[System]
Age: 17

Heritage: The son of Hatter Madrail. Ghent's mother was murdered a few years after he was born.

Adoptive parents: Frederick and Elise Preston. Elise was the first to find Hatter's son; she was astonished to discover him in the woods near their home, disoriented and impossibly lost.

Appearance: Thick, medium length black hair. The style is unpredictable, but the layers sometimes give it an unruly appearance. His bangs fall in front of his eyes, which are blue in color and have a sharp, piercing quality to them. The rest of his features are dark and seem to contrast against his paler-than-should-be skin. He has a lithe build and currently stands at 5'9", but has about a year left to grow.

Distinguishing Marks: A few light freckles running across the bridge of his nose. A more noticeable one is underneath his left eye. He has a small scar underneath his jaw.

Clothes Wear: Whatever's comfortable. He usually wears hoodies, jeans, worn out sneakers, and three quarter/graphic t-shirts.

Abilities: Strength and magic, both inherited from his race. As far as magic goes, Ghent was completely unaware of the ability until Drust and Elayra came to earth. Understandably, he is inexperienced but has the potential to become better with practice.

Weapons: A staff, given to him on page 13.

Personality: It's no secret that Ghent can be a pain. He isn't malicious, but he enjoys pushing the buttons of others in order to get a reaction out of them. His sarcasm usually lands him in trouble, but his past experiences haven't been enough for him to keep his mouth shut. Despite his immaturity, he has a good heart. Ghent has lazy tendencies, but can be hard working with proper motivation.

Major Positive Traits: Compassionate. Empathetic. Hardworking (sometimes).

Major Negative Traits: Sarcastic. Cocky. Klutz. Impulsive. Awkward.

Weaknesses: At times, Ghent doubts himself and his abilities. The fear of failure usually prevents him from achieving success. Having lived in two worlds, he struggles with deciding where he belongs and where his loyalties lie.

Ticks and Tags: Ticks: Fidgets a lot, often with the drawstrings of his hoodies. When he's faced with a situation he can't wrap his mind around, he will pace and/or mumble to himself until he can make sense of what's happening.  Tags: "Cut me some slack!" "Great." "Wait, what?"

Fears: Ghosts. Failure. Being unable to return home. Wonderland in general.

Short Bio: Ghent's story could have been a tragic one, had he not been found. He was discovered in a forest as a toddler, and later adopted by the very family that took him in.
 For much of his childhood, Ghent lived in the comforts of a small farmhouse in the country. Life was serene, quiet, and good. He grew up happy and healthy, with a mother who doted on him and a dedicated, hardworking father.
 Things changed when they moved. Seeking better employment, Mr. Preston uprooted his family to the city, which is where they remained for the years that followed.
 The city posed many differences and challenges, but Ghent learned to adapt and knew his way around. Unfortunately, street smarts didn't help much in school.
 As Ghent grew older, the nightmares and flashbacks became more frequent. Different events or images would trigger a memory, many of which involved Elayra and Drust. The memories confused and frightened Ghent. He never forgot Wonderland, but he learned to stop talking about it after his parents sought him professional help. It was something his mother made the mistake of telling her longtime friend, Mrs. Saxon.
 News spread and rumors started. High school proved to be Ghent's biggest obstacle. He became an easy target for jokes and ridicule, and his grades began to suffer for it.
 Motivated by money and the desire to help his family financially, he began to take on odd jobs. His fifth job turned out to be his favorite: a part-time shift at Frank's Book Barn.
 Even there, Ghent wasn't free from Wonderland. Flashbacks would hit him at the most inconvenient times…and they didn't cease until became reunited with two important faces from his past.

Other Important Characters

Name: Henry

Age: 14

Appearance:  Henry is thin, wiry, with no muscle tone whatsoever. He makes an effort to look neat, but his untamed shock of ginger hair betrays him by looking a mess and his freckles are out of control. When reading, he wears thick black glasses over his large, brown eyes that give him an owlish appearance.

Clothes wear: Henry wears an odd mix of clothing. Most of his clothes are hand-me-downs from previous cousins, including Ghent. When his options are limited, he can be found wearing faded graphic t-shirts (he favors Disney ones) and jeans that have been rolled up at the cuffs in order to fit.

Personality: Despite a rocky home life, Henry remains optimistic, but he has a sensitive side that results in him crying at the drop of a hat. Although he has a sweet, childlike innocence about him, he isn't foolish. He's remarkably intelligent and has a great love for reading and learning. Because of his OCD, Henry is always cleaning and organizing, and likes to keep busy in order to make himself useful. His desire for perfect order can be a little overwhelming at times, but he means no ill intent and has great respect for his family and friends.

Bio: Henry is an only child who never longed for the company of a sibling. Growing up in the country, he had plenty of family and cousins to spend his time with. The families all lived quite close in the rural area, including the Preston family.
 Even as a toddler, Henry was fascinated by Ghent and seemed to gravitate towards him, viewing him as an older brother figure. To the delight of their parents, the three year age gap and a difference in personality didn't prevent the two boys from getting along.
 After the Preston family moved to the city, Henry was heartbroken. The families kept in touch when possible, making multiple visits during the holidays. The visits lessened over the years, but Henry took it upon himself to keep in touch through any means possible. To Elise's delight (and to Frederick and Ghent's dismay) Henry has been known to leave long rambling phone messages, sends more texts than a teenage girl, and writes letters so long, they need to be mailed in multiple envelopes.
 Henry is the only one Ghent continued to trust with his few memories of Wonderland. Their efforts to uncover the mystery were admirable, but brought nothing but disappointment and wild theories. Eventually, a disgruntled Ghent gave up, but Henry continued to search for the truth behind his cousin's past.

[User]
"Well that's just great." Despite the heat of the fire, Ghent shivered, his delusions of safety replaced by fears of the unknown. "Hanging out with you two, I always expect the worst," he grumbled, folding the cloth over the remainder of the jerky. He didn't want to see, let alone think about whatever it was he just ate.
 After tying off the twine, he passed the bundle back to Drust, mumbling a sheepish 'thanks' before turning to his backpack. He started to put away most of the scattered food items, leaving out the hard candy and a couple of candy bars to appease Drust.
 His attention was suddenly diverted to the exchange involving Elayra's waterskin.
 What, is water not substantial enough? Ghent came close to rolling his eyes, his inner voice heavy with sarcasm. From what he could tell, Drust was even harder to please than Elayra. Why would he object to her drinking water?
 Taking one last swig of soda, Ghent crushed the empty can in his fist, his eyes darting between the two as they seemed to argue over the curious looking bottle. He hadn't known Elayra for long, but he had a feeling it was rare for her to show that much emotion over something. She almost seemed...worried.
 Brows furrowed, Ghent tossed the can aside with the abandoned snacks, completely lost. What was a daejinn, and why did the idea of one seem to bother her so much? He waited for someone to fill him in, but no one did.
 "Um…what was that all about?" Ghent asked finally, perplexed by the entire situation. "Is that stuff medicine?" he nodded to the bottle, wondering of its significance. Whatever it was, Elayra seemed more concerned of where it came from, rather than what it was used for. "And what's a daejinn?"

[Assistant]
Elayra sighed heavily. She held the bottle up carefully, delicately, as if afraid even looking at it too hard would shatter it.
 "King's Curative. Supposedly, the only thing it can't cure is death. Takes a lot of magic to make." She looked to Drust. "Don't you think we should save it?"
 "You were knocked out, girl. You may have a concussion." He glanced to Ghent and took the bundle of jerky the boy had returned. "We can't risk its side effects."
 "I feel fine… Mostly fine," she amended grudgingly, sure the first lie would not go well. "It'd be a waste."
 Drust snorted as he tossed the bundle into the depths of his still open pack. It disappeared inside, devoured by the enchanted fabric.
 "Then stand." The man rose swiftly to his feet, his expression hard.
 Elayra blinked up at him. Craning her neck to keep an eye on his face nearly made her dizzy and her neck ache. She had expected some sort of rejection, but the demand to stand was not a part of it. She glanced to his katana, thankful he had not grabbed it. But that meant little.
 Heart pounding a bit faster, Elayra carefully set her water skin and the King's Curative aside. Keeping a wary eye on him, she forced her aching legs to move as quickly as they would let her.
 She gasped when the movement made the throb in her head worsen and spread. Her world spun and she nearly lost her balance, the clearing going momentarily fuzzy around the edges.
 Drust reached out to steady her with a firm, but gentle—for him, at least—hand. He watched her sit back down, the girl scowling.
 "Two drops." This time, the order sounded less severe. He returned to his own indentation in the grass beside the fire.
 The argument drained out of her. He had made his point. She retrieved the discarded items. Not wanting to look at either of her companions as she gave in, she focused on removing the inkwell's dropper stopper. She put two careful drops into her water skin, then snugly restoppered it. It did not look any emptier than before.
 "Daejinn," Drust began, his attention returning to Ghent, "are Spiritayian cats. Born of the spirit realm. They have more free rein in our physical world. Compared to most other Spiritayians."
 "They… make deals," Elayra began quietly, staring down at her water skin. "The stronger ones can do about anything, but…" She took a breath. Her voice came even softer as she continued, the sounds of the fire threatening to drown it out. "Their services always come at a price."
 Her grip tightened on her water skin. She shoved the cork back into it and shook it to mix in the King's Curative. She sighed, realizing it was barely half full.

[User]
"Are you serious?" A day ago, Ghent would have laughed and called Elayra a liar. He leaned forward to get a better look at the bottle, amazed something so small could contain so much power.
 "Save it?" he scoffed, "I think we should sell it." He locked his hands behind his head, leaning against his backpack like a pillow. "Do you even realize how much that'd be worth on Earth?"
 Before more could be said about the King's Curative, Drust spoke up, startling Ghent as he often did.
 Stand? Ghent wasn't sure if he heard the man correctly. He looked in Elayra's direction, watching for her reaction to the sudden demand. What was Drust going to do, challenge her to a fight? Ghent wouldn't put it past him. Not after the day they had.
 "It's only two drops, Blondie." Ghent spoke up from his spot on the ground, unmoving. From his position, Drust looked like a skyscraper. A really scary, Curse-ridden skyscraper. "Drust's right. You hit your head pretty hard back there, y'know."
 Despite being rather comfortable, Ghent sat up as Elayra stood, seeing the unmistakable look in her eyes. "She's gonna--" he began, but Drust got to her before she could collapse.
 Ghent breathed a secret sigh of relief once Elayra sat back down. He listened as Drust elaborated, his face scrunching up at mention of a daejinn being a cat. Hopefully they didn't shed as much as William.
 "If they've got that much power, why don't we ask one of them to kill the Sorceress for us and call it a day?" Ghent said it as a joke, but was half serious. He shifted his backpack around, trying to get comfortable again as she mentioned a price.
 "What do they usually want in return? A soul? Catnip? Seems like a fair trade for a miracle potion." Ghent shrugged with one shoulder, his eyes narrowing in a combination of suspicion and curiosity. "What kind of deal did you make with one, Drust?"


[System]
Belladonna

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hobbies:* Watching Trashy TV
* Sparring

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

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

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

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

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

Medical Issues/Injuries
* None

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Relations

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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[User]
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Elara

Location: Mojo... world?
Skills: N/A

Elara surveyed the masses as Longshot explained the history. A whole crowd of Mojo's victims in one place, and no one was acting against him? Or plotting a rebellion? What kind of power did Mojo have, that he could subdue all of these people? It was a grim realization.

"Is there anything we could to do help?" She asked suddenly. She turned to Longshot, her face revealing her emotions. "How could Mojo do this to his people without any backlash? Have there been uprisings before?"

She found herself wondering if Mojo was hard to kill and was shocked by her sudden change in morals. She'd only kill out of self defense. It was only out of sheer luck that she hadn't had to kill before. Was this what this type of job required? The steel to kill an enemy? Elara struggled with the thought, but she found herself relating to Bella or any other member of this group that made killing sound so easy.

"If we inspired them to fight back, would there even be a chance that we'd overtake Mojo?"

If that wasn't an option, Elara wondered if they could get another audience with Mojo. She'd seen this group in action. Surely they could take him down, if there wasn't a chance they'd be sent back to a warped reality the second they were caught by his men.

[color=E5D0FF]"There has to be something we can do to stop this."[/color.] Without getting killed, of course.

[Assistant]
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⚡John Watts⚡ and 🏹 Arthur Twist 🏹

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Location: Mojoworld - Hobo Camp
Skills: Investigation

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 Watts eyed Belladonna for a moment, before nodding at her. She was the only one of them who was still a child, really. The subtle implication of her words - that she must have spent time in camps like these - broke his heart. Being a parent made him a more empathetic person. Belladonna was someone's child. He couldn't imagine - he didn't even dare to think of - Leda and Stephen being stuck in some horrid place like this, yearning for scraps of food. For a brief second, he could understand why Longshot kept on trying to help and save these people. But it faded as quickly as it came, replaced with irritation and annoyance that their guide wasn't even that great at getting out of Mojo's kingdom and staying out.

 They had named Stephen after his maternal grandfather. Leda, however, had been named after a spartan queen. The myth ran that she had been seduced by Zeus in the form of a swan. She gave birth to his daughter, the most beautiful woman in the world who would spark the Trojan War. That name had been his wife's idea. Watts had wanted to call his daughter Penelope after his own mother. With a shudder, Watts realized he had been getting misty eyed, thinking about his children and he needed to refocus on the present. "The last time you escaped, how long until they came here?" Watts asked. He didn't care that Longshot had been captured three days ago. He wanted to know how long it took Mojo to come look here in the first place. It didn't make sense to him that this wouldn't be the first place Mojo would check.

 Arthur decided to help with establishing a perimeter. He found it touching, Elara's insistence that they could inspire these people and lead them against Mojo. However, he wasn't certain if it would work. Rebellions were great ideas, yet they just didn't seem to happen all that often. He followed the directions that Longshot had indicated, heading to one of the lookout perches. His eyes were rather sharp - they had to be, as he was an archer.

 He scrambled up the ladder and made his way out onto the open perch. Unfortunately, he didn't see much of anything at all. It just set him more on edge. What if Mojo was cloaking himself, deceiving their senses? What could they do? And when would Spiral show?

[User]
Location: Hobo Camp
Skills: N/A

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It brought a lot of memories back. Both good and bad. Bella wasn't one to reminisce really. Her past defined her, but it was her that made the decisions that paved her future. Camps like this were an unfortunate part of life. People would look at them with pity, anger, sadness. Some would offer help and aid, an attempt to get these people out of this place, into homes, trying to find them jobs, only to realize that they were better off back at the camp, surrounded by people who accepted them and didn't try to "fix" them. Or there was the other side, the ones fighting to shut this down, to send these people scattering elsewhere, into deeper holes, into jails and prisons, and more often than not, into early graves.

She remembered a time she was close to 13 when she hung around. Being a young girl going through her own shit, surrounded by people, it toughened her up more than anything. There was danger, but it was also what made her live.

She didn't much pity Longshot, but she could see where these people, at least, deserved help. She could feel eyes on her and watched Watts glance at her. He was a father, she remembered. He had to be going through a lot. Out of everyone here, Watts was the one person she didn't mind being around.

She scanned the perimeter, following her own path to determine if they would be safe. She would defend these people as best she could, even in her current body.


[System]
"I promise to live another day"
Nickname(s):Ali
Gender: Female
Age:around her 20s

Species : Human

Weapon(s): Two main weapons, her long rapier and and a thick width sword. At least 4 blades hidden on her, most likely stolen. Makeshift sling shot if she wants to participate in hunting
Abilities:
-Photographic memory (helpful if maps are lost)
-Can smell some basic poisons
-Knows what to eat in severe situations

Reason: Wanted to make use of her skills and will do anything to earn, many clients tried sending her so they could earn the reward

Brief Personality && Biography Description:

 Edit: Artemis wants everyone to know her as a vexing person. She lands as an alpha when starting a conversation and topics she mentions are experiments to get people heated. She loves messing with those who are easily angered, but would never attack serious complexes. By Pushing buttons, it seems easier to get an answer. In her jobs, she tends to become quiet and focus everything she's got but with a smile on her face. Under control, she can kill quick and painless, but if seems to get serious, she gets a bit psychotic. Her tactics are a little rash but she believes she gets results dealing with her jobs or with relationships.

 After being raised on the streets, Artemis had practiced pick pocketing as her only way of living in an old famous trading center. When her "home" was burned down by barbaric groups, she became separated from those she knew and traveled with a group to a nearby kingdom. Later on she would take up "odd" jobs, increasing her skill set. Often, she'd traveled place to place trying to find clients. Artemis would then know how to fight, kill, seduce, compromise, and steal from with those she worked with. Though intelligent, she had no understanding of reading and her vocabulary is a slightly short due to the fact of the amount of education she could afford.

Additional Information:
-Apples are the best
-befriends the birds
-Has burn scars scattered all over her body
-seems to like grey

[User] Astiroth sighed as he heard Josephine follwed by Jenso. His eyes gazed toward Jenso. "There is no need for formal greeting." Astiroth turned back to face Josephine. "I did not expect many to be interested in the plague. Most things that hirt are considered a blessing by most." He paused for a moment and appeared to be in thought. "You said holy plague. Interesting. We did what we could to hide information about the plague to be honest. None answered our call for aid so we didn't want anyone knowing what was destroying us. I assure you. Nothing about that plague was holy. If ot was, we would have had a better chance. The disease...was originatong from a plant." Astiroth believed this news would frighten Josephine. The idea of a single plant being able to cause such damage to a species was shocking. Imagining what it could do to others could be more so. "We burned everything before we fled. Destrpyed every trace of that vile plant. Our home had to burn with it."

[Assistant]
Yet another person made their way up the small hill they were all standing on who appeared to a part of their make-shift adventuring group; this one appeared to be quite flamboyant in appearance rather than intimidating, and they also seemed to be suffering from heat exhaustion due to the helmet he was wearing.

Rem could see he was addressing the Kingsman so she stood in comfortable silence until something caught her off guard: the which, of whom she missed the introduction of, reached out to grab the traveler's tail. Her eyes grew in horror at the disrespectful act and she felt herself move closer despite herself.

"Ah, lass." Rem coaxed, "I really wouldn't if I were you, folks typically don't like it when you go pulling on their tails." She calmed down a little seeing as it was a gentle hold rather than a harsh grab that a child would use.

In her other ear Rem could hear serious talk of plagues and having to burn one's home down. She gulped at the severity of another party member's situation, realizing that not everyone was here just to get paid.

[User] Jenso gave the new arrivals a quick glance, deciding to refrain from stating his name again until everyone would have arrived. He gave the masked fighter a confused look, who apparently had arrived at the wrong place. His attention darted to Selene for a moment who seemed to be frustrated for a little while. He thought nothing of it, assuming that something might have just briefly annoyed her. Astiroth's words caught his attention. "That's...terrible man..I'm sorry to hear that." Jenso stated, frowning. He did not know the demons or what they did too well, but a plague that ravaged his people like that had to be horrible either way. He could relate to Astiroth's past in a way as everyone within his hometown was also killed, even though it wasn't due to a plague.

[Assistant]
Cassius blinked in his helmet, his tail was being stroked. He gave a nervous chuckled as he raised his hands to face her. "Meow meow meow~" He teased, his hands up in a pawing like method. "Don't let my appearance get the better of you. I'm actually a skilled Monster Slayer from Lumya. But it is... nice to see such interesting company." He quipped. Though he was curious why she chose to stroke his tail. He endowed a flame at the tip of it, he would not actually burn since his body was a catalyst, but he would at least humor her.

"Now look what you did.~" He spoke rather gaudily. He didn't flail, he simply chuckled before turning the flame on and off, he did this a few times before stopping. "Taaadahhh." His hands somewhat flailing. He must have seemed like a street performer. But his attire was much too refined with his Velvet. The helmet wasn't exactly cheap looking either. But he did over heard something about a plague. This however did send some form of distress. A Sickness of any kind was usually a cause for alarm. He chose to speak not of it. They all were clearly here for something else, and he could live with that.

[User] Jenso looked back at Cassius, glancing curiously at him as he endowed the tip of his tail with a flame. It seemed like he wasn't the only flame user of the crew. It wasn't too surprising, as flame users weren't that uncommon. However, he believed that it took a lot of focus and training for Cassius to concentrate his powers like this, to only light the tip of his tail. It took a lot of control, something that Jenso was never able to do. "Hey...who're you?" Jenso asked Cassius, somewhat interested. "I'm a flame user too. My name is Jenso!" He said with a smirk, creating a flame ball in the palm of his right hand. He kept the flame ball at a safe distance from anyone, but it was clear that his control over it wasn't as good as Cassius's. He absorbed the flames back into his palm. He intended to wait earlier before introducing himself yet again, but the man fascinated him.

[Assistant] Vauldis inspected Artemis for a moment, slightly startled by her confidence , he thought his features alone would discourage that. He quickly recovered however and replied to the question " I assure you, the whores gossip is true, werewolves are still lurking in your little cities, slowly increasing in numbers as their existence is forgotten by the average peasant. But I'm no werewolf. My bloodline has held the curse for so long however, we have became our own race. Lucky for you, the curse is no longer contagious either so if a beast starts assaulting us at a full moon, don't blame me." The lycan seemed to grumble the last part in a rather irritated tone, as though he expected any night time attacks to be blamed on him.

[User]
Polaris Yukon
Location: At the edge of the capital city || Time: Dawn || Interacting With: @CAS1006

---

---

Polaris raised an eye at the newcomer and Selene. The former of the two was completely lost and it seemed that the latter of the two was completely entertained. This entertainment evidently stemmed from the newcomer's Lumyan heritage. True, Polaris himself had never seen a Lumya in person either, but at least he didn't reach out to pet random strangers.

Especially those of whom weren't were they belonged.

Getting a good glance at this individual would be pointless as they were wearing a helmet. Telling them to leave would be equally without a point as it seemed that Selene and Jenso had already taken interest in this man. Besides, Polaris wasn't the leader of this operation and had no right to say anything, "King's man" or not.

"This is a confidential quest to be undertaken for the sake of his majesty, King Horace III of Naviance," Polaris spoke in a deadpan as he glanced over at the newcomer's invitation. Same place, same time. What kind of joke was this? Was this some disguised effort to get this man on board? Why? Certainly the king's advisor would come along soon enough to set this situation straight.

"And it is not the 'Brihen party' that you speak of. Might I ask who you are?"

[Assistant]
Cassius took interest in Jenso's interaction, he even chuckled at the man as he took note of his Pyromancer capabilities... But he sensed he was far stronger than he let on; Cassius strength paled in comparison. But he could tell there was much more to his demeanor than he let on. But he did not quite have time to talk, but the matter seemed far more serious once he heard the King's Knight speak.

He formally removed his helmet; his long silky smooth hair blowing in the wind, as he looked to Polaris. "I am Cassius Alexandros Lumya Svent. A Lumyian from Lumyia as you can clearly deduce. But a mary band out here in the open seems quite dangerous if people wanted to snuff out any hope of saving your monarch, wouldn't you agree Sir Knight?" Cassius' eyes were well trained. His hazel eyes staring into Polaris'. "I can see by the temperament of your eyes that you're well trained in hand to hand combat. Your eyes do not let go of a single detail." Cassius dropped his act really quickly. Granted magic could be used for entertaining purposes. But he was in the presence of a man under the monarch.

"It is clear to me this letter was a waste of my time if this was what it was meant for... They only disguised it if they knew I would not want to be in battle..." He lamented for a moment. "Yet, doing nothing feels like the wrong thing to do... Very well... If you'd like me to be here as a man who channels from the abyss, than I suppose I can be the hand you need me to be... But the moment you do any sort of wrong doing... I will leave where you stand. Promise me as a King's Knight, that you strive to do the right thing. Hold your oath, and in turn you hold mine as a committed person of causality." Cassius extended his right hand to the King's men.

[User]
Selene immediately released his tail as he spoke, her curiosity fading now that her investigation had confirmed it was indeed real. She blankly glanced at the girl who approached her, giving a look of confusion before smirking. "I was only teasing..." She explained curtly, turning to Polaris as he began to speak in his cold voice. "Buzzkill..." She muttered, already sensing her more curious and apathetic personality would collide with his serious one. Selene quickly turned her attention back to the catboy. Though that was not accurate, and he had already given his name, Selene still would insist upon referring to him as such.

The witch took another scan of the group... Quite a strange rag tag team indeed. However, she easily lost interest, nothing could really keep her focused for too long. Instead Selene separated herself from the group by a few feet, staring out over the edge as if recording every minor detail.

[Assistant]
Polaris Yukon
Location: At the edge of the capital city || Time: Dawn || Interacting With: @CAS1006

---

---

Polaris did not like being questioned especially when it came to his loyalty towards the royal family. Nonetheless, he could respect this man's purpose and words, even if his arrival was believed to be a mistake. Additionally, he certainly wasn't wrong about the strategic placement of their meeting. Polaris had considered that himself and came to the conclusion that the royal advisor simply wanted to keep the journey a secret to the public. After all, why wouldn't he? Showing that the king needed help would only distress the kingdom further.

Polaris took the man's hand and gave it a firm shake, "Polaris Yukon, second enforcer of Lady Foll'a and King Horace III. Anything I do is at the request of his majesty," a pause, "Which I hope will be 'right.' I take it that you will be coming along with us?" Truthfully, Polaris had no problem with it as long as the royal advisor didn't. Or if the thirteenth person showed up after all and it wasn't Cassius.

Whatever ultimately happened, only time would tell.

[User]
Artemis clicked her tongue. She could still find out later if he was the one. If this is what a Lycan looked like, she supposed those of her backround would mistake one for a werewolf. Artemis was no stranger to the supernatural, but it's still supposed there are more creatures she wouldn't have known about. She sighed at that thought.

"Forgive me for the sudden question," she half grin. "This group is.. Er- varied, I believe?"

She then looked to another stranger who dressed in an unfamiliar fashion. Before she could nickname him, he had introduced himself as Cassius. She paid some attention to his conversation with Polaris. To her, his speech was a bit formal for her to truly translate. As Polaris replied in the same manner, she had a conclusion they were either a knight or a noble. Artemis slightly cringed, remembering her many encounters with them.

"Buzzkill," she heard from "Little one". She hadn't paid any attention to Selene except for when the nicknaming from afar. Artemis observed as she took a step back from the group. Probably one to get bored easily, she thought. Not her business, really, but if she knew something , everything seemed more comfortable.


[System]
Soul
Sex: Male
Age: Unknown
Personality: Soul can appear quite aloof. Often he ponders things such as the nature of life and existence. He is ever inquisitive, often curious about many things. Like a child, once he learned to ask questions, he never learned to stop. But he is also naive and can become easily confused by complex concepts, especially in regards to emotional things. Often able to repeat many philosophies, but often he lacks a deeper understanding of them.

Appearance:

---

Obfuscation: while not invisibility, his presence is masked. While using this some one's mind refuses to see him, smell him, or even hear him. Even masking his thoughts and emotions. Although there are limits, as people will ignore a whisper if he were to shout, they suddenly become aware of him. He can also extend this ability to other things and people, but the more he needs the cover, the more he has to focus on it and the more draining it can become. It also only affects things that have a will or mind that can be fooled.

Shadow Walk: He can use shadows as doorways and between them at will.

Celerity: He can enhance his speed and reaction time, his very perception of time slows down, and he can react at blinding speeds for short bursts.

Heightened sense: His sense of hearing, sight, smell, and even taste are of an extremely heightened level. He can notice the slightest detail, pick up the faintest scents and hear the softest whisper. He can even smell and track trails of magic, hear the spells' calls, and even find the cracks and weak points in barriers.

Might: He can increase his physical strength, making him much stronger.
Call of the Shadow: He can pull shadows to himself and envelop himself in them and meld into them.

Illusion: He can Create and cast illusions of sight and sound. While not physical, he can make nearly any image and alter entire buildings, inside and out.

Transformation: By focusing his mana on himself, he is able to re-shape feathers and re-sculpt his body, though this takes time as he has to sit down and physically sculpt his new look. Though things like hair and eye color can be rather simple.

Self-Healing: While meditating He can heal his body with magic, even regrow limbs though that takes much more time and requires him to burn more mana

---

 Short Bio: Soul had a rather precarious beginning. He has neither childhood nor a parent. He is as he has always been. He was made to serve a purpose, to act as a key to the Eldritch realm of the void. Born of neither life nor death, he is akin to a flesh golem. But also more. He is walking Paradox, he is, and he is not. A Life without a soul. But he was more aware than they thought he would be. Though before they could complete the rituals to unlock the gateway of the void, they were found out. Soon coming under assault, the cult was rooted out and destroyed. But the question of what to do with him arose. He had a will, and he had a life...he had at least a part of a soul. But more, he had potential. The mages that found him decided that he would be trained to use his abilities and use the innate manna within him.

 Though he had trouble casting magic, he excelled at anything he could channel into and through himself, and they only taught him limited spells. Focusing on only Shadow and Illusion. But they also taught him how to fight with nearly every weapon they could. Skills on infiltration. Seeing his innate ability to hide, even from magic. Many barriers even would let him walk through as they ignored him. He spent years in training, honing him to be the ultimate weapon. At first, he never questioned anything. The only life he knew was the life he had, and it was only half a life at that. Years passed, people came, people went. Some came back old, others he never saw again. It wasn't until someone finally asked him...if he wanted to live as a weapon. It was a simple question...one anyone would consider...but one he never had. He started to ask more questions. Like, why did he kill? Who were they? The more questions he asked. The more agitated people became towards him. The more curious he became, the more he started acting of his own will. Growing distrustful of those who told him they would take care of him, he started to listing closer to when they thought he could not hear. And heard the question of putting him down. Though he didn't let anything like that go further. When next they checked on him, he was gone.

 Though now that he had freedom, he had no idea what to do. So he wandered, and soon he was asked the 2nd greatest question of his life: what is your name? The half soul was the only thing anyone had ever referred to him as. That or the Gateway. Giving it much thought, He decided he would call himself Soul. And with that, he wandered once more.

[User]
Sat watching the ritual happening before him. He found the use of blood as a power source interesting, he even wondered if that is how his own magic worked. After all, while he could easily control the flow of magic in his own body he had trouble pushing forcing it out as the others seemed to do. Though also others seemed to radiate magic, while his own flowed through his veins. If she could use blood to perform magic, he also wondered what she could do with his own magic-infused blood. He believed it was something worth exploring if he was to be of more use to those around him.

 As time drifted on and he sat there in his own mind, he neither fidgeted nor moved. Almost looking like a statue as he kept that neutral appearance on his face. Soon though Ivy was back into their world and speaking to them. Though, she spoke in a way that confused Him. The context of the words was lost on him, and some of them he didn't quite know. Ignorance was no the bliss people kept saying it was. But the boy who seemed to have two scents made the most sense to him, not the two scents part, that kind of confused him, but a mission. A mission was a concept he understood.

 "I agree...having a course of action is desirable," he stated. "We must find this Grail with holes...but why do we need to Harm Ivy with plates...I do not see how hurting her with plates helps in any way. No matter how glorious said plates maybe...also why must they be plates for the use of Sushi?" He wasn't fully sure what sushi was, but he did know it was some kind of food made from fish.

[Assistant] "Well," Ivy said with a shrug, "this isn't the first time Miss Muir has tried something like this. She's got a reserve of souls she's stolen over the years and uses those to maintain her mortal form. As for the Grail, I know it's somewhere in Avalon, with a bunch of old gods watching over it. Probably Celtic, but I'm not as familiar with those stories."

[User] Suddenly, the Hill Top would erupt in violence. Gun shots were fired at the property, missing any students, but they were currently running for cover against the hail of bullets. Various cars had driven up to the property of Blackwell's mansion and then, men dressed in black left their vehicles and continued this vicious assault. To compound matters, after the large group of dozens arrived, the Hill Top was swallowed into another dimension, temporarily, and odd, demonic creatures began to congregate on the Estate Grounds. Tall, ghoulish albino creatures, similar to the appearance of "Slender Man', also wearing the "men in black" apparel, they seemed to have no weapon on their person, but they had murderous intent.

[Assistant]
All Hell Breaks Loose

There was no time to prepare, no time to react and the only thing that they could do was seek cover. The bullets ripped through the wards that protected the mansion and struck various items in the house. Yuri moved to a window and announced loudly that they were under attack. Screams of panic filled the air as those students who were unfamiliar with this sort of thing rushed to hide behind any form of barrier they could. Yuri looked to the older students, the stronger students and nodded as he made sure they were getting the other students to safety. One stray bullet ripped through Yuri's shoulder, knocking him back and to the ground, but the onslaught wasn't over.

The bullets stopped and what felt like microwaves surging over them made Yuri get to his feet as quickly as possible. He clutched his injured shoulder and approached the window once more. This time the assailants had no weapons. They were somewhere he didn't recognize, and what looked to be tall slender albino ghouls began to encroach on their location. Yuri groaned as he knew the bullet had gone straight through his body and he was losing blood by the minute, but his mind quickly settled on Remy. The sigils he had put in place would keep Remy safe. The bullets would strike the window and wall but never break through. The only thing that would alert Remy would be the sound of the bullets striking but never piercing.

"Lithy and you," Yuri said pointing at Adam, "get the kids to safety. I'm going to go check on Remy."

Just as he turned to rush off, one of the slender creatures burst through the window and tackled him to the ground. Yuri felt it's teeth rip into his shoulder and he yelled out before his eyes shifted into a dangerous white. His hand slammed against the creature's chest and within seconds the creature was writhing on the floor in pain until it's head began to expand. The exploding head sent fluid and matter in all direction. Yuri stood to his feet, his eyes showing no emotion. His face void of any sign of pain from the bullet and bite. Yuri slammed his foot into the ground and just as another creature burst through the window, Yuri's palm thrust forward and a sigil of destruction blasted the two creatures, completely eradicating them leaving nothing but piles of smoldering bones. Yuri's divine movements looked as if he were practicing some form of martial arts with his arms lunging into various spots in the air, but when he clasped his hands together, a beaitufl spell circle appeared before everyone. Subsequently a much larger spell circle would envelope the mansion. The spell circle slammed against the door with what looked to be a timer ticking away. It was only temporary. The creatures came, touching the window and doors only to be repelled with great force.

Yuri's eyes returned to their normal light brown and without warning he collapsed to the ground, blood seeping from the open wounds. He coughed and more blood coated the once clean floor. His body shook slightly from the trauma. The spell circle would keep them safe for a moment, but when it faded they would have to figure something out.

[User]
As Soul was still confused about what they were talking about the first of the bullets came flying through the wall. He could feel a shift as the world around them changed. His first instinct was to kill, to slaughter his opposition No that voice was faint in the back of his mind. Suddenly that creature was attacking the boy with two scents, but another window came crashing as another monster came Leaping towards the group Protect them!, that voice whispered to him. As that monster lept towards them, he lept after it. As it got closer he spun, lifting up his leg as it collided with the face of that monster, the force of that kick caved in its face, its body crumpled as it reversed directions and was sent flying back out that window to skip along the ground outside.

 These monsters at least for now seemed mostly physically bassed. More were coming in, leaping in the next came after him. Its movements were slow, at least to soul they were, it came in with a knarled maw with rows of teeth. Before it could register though, it had crumpled down as Soul punched it, he Grabbed its head under his arm. He Tensed, with a squeeze and a jerk there was a crutch and pop. For good measure Soul walked forward bending it back and pulling ripping its head from its shoulder. As another was about to come in. It suddenly screamed and was hurling back that field launching it out.

 He could hear screams, the scratching of claws...he could smell blood. "more have entered the building. We must gather ourselves and prepare a counterattack." his voice was flat and calm as ever. Though his veins had a slight magical glow to them. His already athletic and toned build seemed slightly more pronounced as magic flowed through him.

 "I can only heal myself if any can heal others attend to him." he said as he walked over to his bag. He pulled it open, pulling out a set of swords he pulled back the belt, snapping it around his waist so they were on either side of his waist. He pulled out a large hunting knife as well. Reaching behind himself as it hooked onto his jeans. "Who will accompany me?" he asked looking to the group


[System]
Occupation: Bandit chief/Veteran legionnaire

Race: Nord

Class: Warlord

Gender: Male

Age: 33

Personality: A dour man, with little in the way of a sense of humor, and a determination that could break down walls just as easily as the many siege engines he used and repaired in the civil war. Often in ill humor, he sees life by loss and gain, the age old rule that all power demands sacrifice. Be it your time, the lives of your men, or an entire country, all power demands sacrifice.

Weapons: Steel Broadsword, Steel round shield, Steel Dagger.

General Appearance: (look above~)

Bio: Born into a military family, Brannus knew that he'd find himself in legion armor one day as well, he didn't expect to be wielding a legion sword against his own neighbors though. He spent much of the civil war siegeing and defending fortifications and camps, along the way gaining an appreciation for the bluntness and calculable nature of siege warfare. Brannus quickly found himself being promotoed to a Captain, and in a position of command over a fair number of soldiers, enough to occupy and defend one of the many smaller forts that dotted skyrim's landscape. For a time he and his men were on the front line, archers taking pot shots back and forth at each other from behind and outside of the fortress' walls, him and his men entrenched for months outside of the crumbling stormcloak bastion.

As with any man or mer, time spent breaking the wall could break a man of his spirit, just as easily as defending the wall could. The men grew tired, and little in the way of support or even correspondence was available to him and his men, while the stormcloaks where holed away, doing all they could to try the Captain's patience. Then, like a miracle, or a curse, the siege was broken in almost an instant; not by one of the catapults, a charge through the battered defenses, or any sort of surrender, but by a dragon. Fear ran through the ranks on both sides, but all Brannus could feel was unbridled anger, at his situation, at his superiors, at the enemy, and at the damnable wyrm who had reared its head.

Though small, the dragon was enough to break the defenders, and those who were not burnt to a crisp by its flames, hid within the fort while it toppled ontop of them. Others ran from the fort, scrambling past the imperial troops for safety in the wilds. His own men on the verge of breaking, and the losses mounting past acceptable, Brennus slew the closest man to him, bashing his face in with his armored hand, and as the soldiers, imperial and stormcloak turned to him, awestruck, he roared. "This, is the price of cowardice! That wyrm may rip you apart, swallow you whole, or burn you ash, but that is NOTHING compared to what I will do to you lot, if you do not hold!" His speech echoed like a warsong through the trenches as his men rallied, turning their great siege weapons to the fledgling beast. It was a shot through the neck with a ballista that felled the creature, leaving its lifeless body on the ground. Silence washed over the decimated remains of the two forces, as they watched Brannus Krieg, his broadsword in hand, sever its head.

It was this battle that drove Brannus, and what remained of his men and the opposing army, nearly thirty men all together, to desert. Why should they fight this war, when the world itself seemed to be crumbling? Dragons, the Thalmor, and the assassination of the Emperor? He and his would have no part of it. Taking what they had with them, their horses, armaments, even the great ballista which ended the wyrm, they traveled, spending the remainder of the civil war moving from encampment to encampment, finally settling in a fort in the south of Falkreath hold. Strangely, the inhabitants, a band of orcs, were all dead,and in the basement, it seemed that someone had taken something precious from a pedestal. Luckily the stockpile of food, wines, and cheeses had yet to spoil, there was enough cheese for everyone. Brannus ordered his men to string the corpses from the walls of the keep, and to perch the ballista atop the small fortress. For the last ten years, Brannus "Wyrm's Bane" Krieg, and those few men who survived, have spent their time, raiding, stealing, ransoming, and fortifying, taking every chance they can to obtain resources, and slay the horrid dovah that now litter the skies of Tamriel.

[User]
Whiteout, that's all she could see around her for miles upon miles stretching across the frostbitten lands, a thick veil of snow and sleet obscuring her vision, whipping about her hardened face and blistering her fair skin with the callous chill of another infamous winter, here in a hold much deserving of its name, Winterhold. The ice storm had increased in severity since the woman first tread upon the grounds coated in frost, thick layers of it too. Just behind her lied a military outpost, a few closely clustered barracks of wood and cracked stones having been erected out here in these godsforsaken plains forever cursed with winter's fury, surrounded by thick trunks of freshly powdered pines standing tall but buckling amidst the rancorous winds terrorizing the tundra. There were three sentry towers overlooking the outpost, each positioned at the corners of the triangular layout, torches burning bright through the frost laden storm, the eyes of the enemy ever watchful, but not once did they catch eye nor hair of the Forsworn, the dreaded child of the Reach.

Now, aside from the whipping winds roaring through fair Winterhold and chilling the woman's bones, not a sound befell the old fortress of Fellhammer, silence...dead silence. If one were to cross the scene, what words would they utter with hushed tongues and eyes ablaze with fright....as they stared headlong in shock upon the mounds of mutilated corpses littering the fort's grounds and dyeing the pure white frost into a frothy, red slush? Yes, bodies, hundreds of them ripped to shreds, limbs, entrails, and sinew scattered to and fro across the bloodstained walls that still shrieked with the horror that befell it not long, a werewolf attack, and how much Tarja relished the screams and lamentations as she tore into their flesh, squished their skulls in her ebony claws, yanked their intestines through their throats and feasted as a queen upon their ravaged carcases...leaving the rest to freeze out in the callous chill of Skyrim's most brutal of seasons. But no sympathy for those she slaughtered without giving quarter, for they were slayers of her kin, werewolf hunters known as the Silver Hand, mainly just a pack of uncivilized brigands, yet the killing of were-folk alike gained the Forsworn's ire, and that of her Prince Hircine. May their blades never harm a wolfblood ever again and may Hircine see that they are devoured by beasts of the Great Hunt.

Twas a long journey from the fort left in ruin to the town, a journey that saw many a scrape and squabble against a few unruly frost trolls and ice wraiths, so easily dispatched by her quick prowess with a bow, but soon Tarja found herself shambling coldly into the forlorn town, gazing from the cowl of bear fur draped over her towards the immense structure that stood ominously and yet valiantly amongst Ysmir's furious winds, the telltale College of Winterhold, a place for mages and spellcasters alike to learn and practice their craft with peace of mind, well...as much peace of mind someone could get smack-dab in the middle of Stormcloak territory. Even now, it felt as if that gas-bag Ulfric was breathing down her neck, making her ill with anger towards the fiend and his alleged Sons of Skyrim, those responsible for the deaths of many near and dear to her...including one she so deeply cherished with all her heart, a heart shattered upon the bloody, sharp rocks of the Reach one horrible eve of Frostfall, a heart now shadowed...by hatred. But enough dabbling in the haunting memories of the past. She needed to get out of this gods damned storm. Ah, and what luck there was a tavern nearby.

Pushing the door open, she startled a few, noting some of them to be clad in that wretched shade of blue. Stormcloaks no less. Praise Hircine she didn't have a dagger drawn to their necks already, or an arrow in their....chests. She approached near them, but gave not a glance or a word, why should she give the murdering bastards any sincerity? She discovered an empty table in the midst of the tavern and sat down, unfastening the hawk-skull broach that held together her thick pelt and let it fall revealing her armor, not to mention her face, said to be quite the fairest among the Forsworn. Aye, but not as lovely as the face of the woman who made her a Forsworn.

[Assistant]
Walks-In-Light stood at the front of her ship, looking over her gathered crew members. Her ship, The Cliff Racer, bobbed and swayed with the low waves of Winterhold's shoddily constructed harbor, a wooden dock connected to a steep wooden staircase that ascended the cliff face. It looked much older than it was, her few inquiries suggesting that it had been built in the last decade. The crew, a scruffy mix of Nords and Saxheel, or Argonians in the more common tongue, as well as a small minority of Dunmer and the occasional Redguard, stood half expectantly, the weathered crew still shivering at the bitter winds of this desolate colony.
"Now, I understand you're complaints about the lack of... services in this town. But, it is out of my control. I was asked to negotiate with an 'independent trader,' who felt that he could not trust the security of a larger hold. We also have a need to restock, and while Windhelm has a much greater selection, we need provisions to last us in a trip to Solstheim and back to the open oceans, and it is apparent many of you cannot stomach Dunmer staples," she said, mildly discontented murmuring escalating as people complained about the lack of decent mead and the fact they'd be eating Horker meat for days.
Silencing her crew with a loud hiss, she continued.
"Now, we shall not be here long. I'm taking the first mate and... you four," she said, picking out three Nords and a Dunmer crewman.
"You'll come with me. The rest of you... make sure everything is in good condition. Sit around for all I care. I'll need some of you for carrying goods."
With that conclusive statement the crew grumbled into motion, and a weathered Redguard stepped up to her.
"The crew's going to have trouble focusing for a week, aye Cap'n?" he said mischievously. The crewman she had noted walked towards the captain, keeping a respectable distance.
Walks-In-Light eyed her first mate with a degree of mock exasperation.
"Canis, you could be on the ocean floor if this was an Imperial vessel. Come on, we're heading to the tavern for this meeting," she said, gesturing to her entourage to follow her down the gangplank and up the stairs towards the city.
Canis caught up to his captain with due haste.
"So what's really going on?" he asked, with a mild grin.
"Some bandit king from Falkreath hold. Looking to move some goods. I'm thinking Vvardenfel is our best bet in getting them out of our hands," she said, ascending the steps with a noticeable caution, a layer of ice and snow covering the surface.
Canis nodded silently, and they reached the town with tired legs. They entered the tavern in a generally undramatic manner, and approached the group of men who looked out of place by the fire place, approaching the man who looked most in charge, steel plate shining with a dull light under his layers of furs.
"Would you happen to be Brannus?"

[User]
Asuma kept on running and running, until the orange light of her former village disappeared, Asuma felt.....drained, the adrenaline she had earlier had ran out, feelings came to Asumas mind, about her parents,

Sadness had smashed her like a tidal wave hit the sand, quick, and leaving a mark forever,
she found a tree, just a lone tree in the middle, she walked up to it, well, more like. Limped up to it. and sat down, she didn't want to keep moving, why would she have too anyways?

she already fought, She'd ran for miles. her dad would accept it if she gave up...

she pulled out her sword from her Stealth, aiming it at her stomach, the cold metal of the sword was right at her chest, she didn't give up yet, but she would, closing her eyes. she dropped the blade at her side, a tiny clank sound could be heard from the slim metal thing,

she laid back on the Rough wooden tree, Sleeping, she wasn't quitting, her father would have died for nothing, so would her mother. but now, she was just going to lie down for a bit.

[Assistant]
The large Nord turned from the fire to face the Argonain woman, standing to greet the merchant, and brought his fist to his chest, a simple salute, but appropriate for one who lead men and mer. His men followed his example, saluting the newcomers, before resting their hands at their sides, ready to draw their weapons if anything should go wrong. Brannus looked over the Argonian who matched his great height, sizing up the many curves and contours of her body, he had to admit, rather stunning, confidence was always attractive.

"I am Brannus, I take it you are Walks-In-Light? Its a pleasure to finally meet you. Now, if you'll just follow me, my men are waiting with the goods I promised."

It was a short walk back to the carriage, a far enough way that it would not be noticed or actively pursued by the local authorities. Motioning for the Orc and Redguard to move aside, the warlord pulls the tarp from the cart, revealing piles of pelts, venison, jewels, jewelry, and all manner of pilfered wines,goods, and other necessities. Opposite these more typical goods, was a small pile of bodies, toppled upon one another in various stages of mutilation, decay, and composure.

"Browse my wares, there's plenty of fresh water, drink, and meat to provide you and your crew with more than enough provisions."


[System]
Age: 19

Race: Lizardman

Gender: Male

Appearance:

Lizard Fighter seems like your typical lizardfolk, huge, muscular, and intimidating. Except instead of browns and greens he's ruby red with a cream colored 'underbelly'. He stands at seven feet tall and has the build of a long time laborer, muscles rippling under that naturally tough hide. Some scars do litter his body, focused mostly in the arms and shins, except an obvious quadruple line running diagonally across his face. Barely missing his eyes.

His garb is strange for a lizard man of the deep swamps. Fingerless gauntlets that retained the fur underneath and floofed out at the elbows. A thick hide vest with a fishnet shirt underneath with the same fluffy visibles like his hand protection. Strangely made pants of leather and canvas that left open pockets at his upper thighs, probably due to his tail. Digigrade leather wrappings that had connecting iron kneepads. To hold his ensemble up is a coarse leather belt with a pair of leather bags, one at the hip the other at the small of his back for his stuff.

Height: 7'7"
Eye Color: Emerald Green
Hair Color: None

Personality:
Unlike what Lizard Fighter's gung-ho body looks like, his personality is very laid back. Preferring to lounge and watch others instead of actually doing extra activities with others. Maybe it was because of his reptilian nature, watching and being a lethargic behemoth. Although when he does interact, it's in almost a deadpan manner and incredibly blunt. The reptilian man never sugar-coated what he was saying or thinking. This lack of tact didn't earn him many friends back home.

Despite his supposed laziness, he does get riled up. It's also very easy to do so, a lazy giant with a short fuse isn't very good. This probably ties into his animalistic tendencies, at the hint of aggression or provocation he returns it in force and forcing others to restrain him from going ballistic.

Likes: Warm and Humid Climates, Exotic Foods, Wrestling and Tests of Strength.
Dislikes: Cold Climates, Physical Weakness, Being Provoked.
Hobbies: Trying New Foods, Basking in the Sun, Making Atlas Stones.

History:
Lizard Fighter had the typical upbringing of a lizardman. He was raised in the swamps to the South, learning to care for what the village had as soon as he could walk and speak. He quickly developed a deep seated need to take care of everything he earned considering certain things were harder to come by in a swamp than on dry land. Like quality metal, iron bacteria was plentiful but produced little of that hard metal. Although his people never wanted for food since they knew what to look for.

Unfortunately Lizard Fighter wasn't adept at tracking, or hunting, or gathering non-poisonous substances for the younger tribe members. Eating so much poison gave him a big boost in his resistance to it, it tended to taste good dammit...

He did excel at combat though, each member of the tribe when they reached eight started to learn basic weapon usage. It was here that he took up the lead, wrestling other youths into submission or disarming and knocking them to the ground. His people practiced with clubs, wooden spears, and claws. No metal until they were older so they didn't kill each other by accident.

Of course accidents happen. L.F's rival raked his claws across his twelve year old face, leaving deep cuts that developed into the scars he adorned today. Training and real combat were different however, so he had been sent out years later to experience the world gain the experience needed.

It was at this point L.F received an old knife and a buckler from his chief before being sent on his way. His people weren't blind to the world though and he had heard about Adventurer's. How often they fought and how far they explored. What better profession could there be for the 'savage of the swamp'. He followed rumors and directions to Palisade town, a place of beginnings for Adventurers or so they said.

Adventuring Rank: Porcelain

Equipment:
* Studded Club: A hefty piece of wood with a simple leather binding at the tapered 'grip'. In the bulky head of the club are iron rivets to help concentrate the bludgeoning force into smaller areas for higher damage. Or so the shopkeeper said...
* : A surprisingly huge blade, more like a small beefy sword than a knife, that protects the knuckles of the user with a sharpened guard. It has several cracks along the blade denoting its heavy usage along with a slightly rounded tip.
* Buckler: The smallest of all of the shields, this is strapped to his forearm to leave his hands free. It's a thin piece of iron, dinged up and slightly rusted, with the typical bubble in the middle to ease impacts.
* Leather Attire: Adorning the man were basic leather clothing. Albeit thick and much more crude than what humans normally made. Essentially it was hides turned inside out so the fur was inside, except the collar and hem of the vest.
* Porcelain Adventurer's Tag

Skills:
* Athletic: Living in a swamp has its benefits. You learn how to move through tougher terrain, build strong muscles, and learn how to climb good. Lizard Fighter can perform long leaps, swim easily, climb where others can't, and traverse muddy terrain as if it were a dirt road. Of course the deeper the muck the slower he goes despite being used to it.
* Toughness: Given his reptilian nature he has a tougher physique thanks to his scaled hide. Also thanks to taking many a blow back in his home while growing up. He can shrug off minor hits and mitigates some of the damage of stronger attacks. Either by changing the angle of how they hit or flexing to lessen the impact.
* Poison Resistance: Due to living in a swamp the majority of his life he has become highly resistant to poisonous substances. Prolonged exposure will still affect him but it takes longer than the average human.

[User]
With their lizard friend's leg safe from imminent digestion, Steppe Archer would pump her fists in the air excitedly, just in time with her druidic friend's smashing of the ugly pile of poo-scented pudding. "Nice! The ice really did work!" she exclaimed, glad to see that in spite of getting a little bit of his scales injured, Big Red was as tough as ever. She was sure that she'd at least be crying if that was her skin...but like he said, scales were tougher.

"Just don't go kicking vaguely liquid monsters again," the archer would say, tilting her head as she noticed the faintest glimmer from where the slime had once been frozen. It was...a ring of some kind. Tarnished copper with a small green gem inlaid upon it. "Huh. This might be what made that slime..." she said aloud, putting it in a pouch before adding: "Personally, I think we should get him out of here right away and wash that burn wound. Who knows what kinds of things that slime ate? Aside from maybe that ring."

[Assistant]
Big Red watched the pairs reaction to him starting to be eaten...and then Druid Girl finally used her spell. The cold made him shiver but the slime thickened and dropped off. Rapidly cooling liquid thickened up it seemed. It didn't get that cold where he was from, he had never seen ice or snow...or even breath mist. The blob though was slowly starting to move away, clearly trying to escape the cold source.

Druid Girl prevented the slow escape by splattering the slime with her staff. Which revealed a ring within its stomach. "I doubt the ring made it, slimes are a fairly common creature when it comes to caves and swamps. Which a sewer is like a mixture of both." He stated before shrugging. "Then again magic is strange and can do many things." The big reptilian man continued before the girls started to worry about his leg.

He gave the pair a dull look before patting his own chest. "Swamp-dweller. Disease doesn't affect me nearly as much as one of you. We'll continue on." He rumbled, did humans really worry about their combatants this much or were these two just the odd ladies out? Either way his pant leg was dropped and he made it obvious he wanted to keep going. It was a minor injury really and he felt like there was no point worrying so much about it.

[User]
Druid Girl nodded in agreement when Steppe Archer brought up the proposal to head back. Even if the injury to Big Red's leg didn't look or seem that bad, it could still get infected... But, the big lizard brawler seemed to think otherwise, and promptly stated that he was right as rain... He didn't seem like the type to grit his teeth and act macho, nor did he seem the type to try and impress and flaunt his masculinity... Mostly because of how mind-numbingly pragmatic the fellow seemed to be. So, Druid Girl would just accept that if the large swamp-warrior said he was alright, then he probably was alright.

She was about to go on to speak, when she noticed Steppe Archer walking over to the slushy remains of their defeated opponent, bend down and pick something up. Red flags and sirens buzzed all trhough Druid Girl's mind, and she quickly paced over to her ally, grabbing hold of the other girl's wrist and inspecting her hands and fingers. Once she was sure the little lioness wasn't having her skin melted off by residual slime, she gave the archer a stern but concerned look.

"You dummy! What if the remaining slime-goop were to burn you like how it did with Big Red? You need to be more careful, alright?" It was a scolding, but judging from the tone of her voice, the look on her face and how she seemed genuinely relieved that nothing bad had happened, it was clear to see that she was far more worried about her compatriot's well-being rather than being angry at her carelessness.

Now they were at an impass though. Steppe ARcher had suggested going back, but Big Red wanted to press on and keep going. Both decisions carried value. If they left, they could make sure Big Red was safe and unharmed, but they wouldn't get paid for the quest and would've wasted a lot of time and money on something that yielded no return. On the other hand, if they stayed and pressed on, they could probably finish the quest quick enough - if there were no more surprises at least - and get their reward, with the possibility of Big Red getting an infection or something even nastier... After all, while a sewer might be as damp and smelly as a swamp, the two were still fundamentally different. One contained stagnant water and putrifying vegetation, the other contained feces, amonia, humanoid waste and various types of mold and animal droppings...

"If you're sure that you're alright, big guy, I think it's best if we just finish up this quest real fast and then head back up." Druid Girl fianlly said, gently scratching her cheek with an index-figner. "Still, it's weird." She added. "That... gooey slime thing... I've never seen any of those before, in all the times I've been down here... And it didn't seem shy about advancing on enemies even when outnumbered, so I doubt they'd be smart enough to keep hidden all this time..." She thought aloud, now giving her chin a slight rub. "Maybe... Maybe it got in through one of the sewer grates outside of town? Or... Maybe somebody flushed it down here? Well, whatever, I just hope there aren't anymor eof those... Things... around." She finished, before coming to a realization.

"Y'know... if we hadn't killed that thing, it might've become the apex predator of the sewers. Think about it. The rats and bugs down here wouldn't be able to even hurt it. Hah... I guess we saved the natural order of the sewers." She ended off her thoughts, with a slight laugh. "Well, what should we do then? Head back and pick another tunnel, or keep pushing on in this one? Though, given the lack of critters, I'm not sure we'll find more if we keep moving on in this area." Her last comment was based on the fact that there hadn't been anything up until the slime in this particular sewer tunnel.

For now, in the warm glow of the torch, the nature mage would wait for what her allies wanted to do.

[Assistant]
Steppe Archer had to agree...kicking that thing had been a huge mistake. But at least Big Red wasn't all that hurt. And, as he said, stuff wouldn't seep past his scales and cause an infection. "I agree on finishing this up quickly. I wonder if that thing ate all the rats and roaches itself or not. That'd be convenient for us," she said aloud while trying to peek down some of the corridors. "I've never seen anything like that either."

"I think we should head back. Something like that, that seemed to move on instinct alone, it probably ate just about everything in these tunnels and got that big. As nice as it'd be to call it a day claiming its kills, we don't have any proof that anything on the quest died. If you want, I could scout ahead on the next tunnel, and run back if there's any trouble." Steppe Archer was all for continuing since their Lizard Fighter claimed to be good to go, even in poopoo water. She was a bit worried that there might be more of those things, but as long as they kept an eye and ear out, they'd be able to run if things got tough.

[User]
Big Red watched the two girls interact after Little Puff picked up something from the remains of the slime. A ring, a surprisingly clean one. Then again slimes were essentially sacks of stomach acid. But Druid Girl kept worrying about him making him sigh with slight annoyance. "I'm a hard being, this isn't the first time I've encountered a slime and been munched on by them. Probably won't be the last, although that one was tougher than normal." He rumbled out before gesturing for them to move on.

Little Puff mentioned scouting, she was small and nimble. Probably speedier than anything in this sewer and voices could carry easily. The sewage wasn't exactly rushing along to make a thundering sound like a river. "That's fine, we'll try another tunnel branch. But we'll also report about the slime when we get back. So no one else gets surprised in the future." He continued, not every rookie adventure could handle a slime after all.

His eyes went to their Archer companion. "Watch the ceiling as well, slimes are capable of ambushes." He finished before ushering them along so they can continue with their job.


[System]
清風 美紀
Age: 57 (~16 human age, may change)
Gender: Female
Race: Kitsune

Personality: Miki is free-spirited and energetic, making it her mission to enjoy life to the fullest and aid others in doing so. She makes new friends easily, but only keeps a select few close to her. She does have a certain distaste for boring people, and often tries to shake them out of their routines.

Abilities:
Limited Shapeshifting
-Miki can hide her supernatural features, but that's about it.
Invisibility
-Miki can disappear from sight, and even fool cameras, but this only lasts a couple minutes per day.
Illusions
-With a bit of uninterrupted eye contact, Miki can fool someone's senses. Complex illusions are easier to see through, and suspicious people may not be fooled at all.

Skills:
Parkour/Agility
-Miki is an expert at moving through the urban landscape.
Skateboarding
-Where Miki's feet can't carry her, her favorite set of wheels usually can.
Lockpicking
-With the right tools, most mechanical locks are but a minor inconvenience to Miki. She's useless against electronics, though.

Equipment:
Running Outfit
-A set of clothes chosen for maximum maneuverability without standing out.
Skateboard
-A vintage California Free Former longboard, probably Miki's most prized possession.
Lockpicks
-A small set of picks, only carried while working.

Brief Backstory:
Miki was born in Miura City, and has been around for long enough to watch the rise of the digital era. She spent her first couple decades partying and generally running wild, both in Miura and on the road, but eventually felt the need to do something at least a little productive.

With that in mind, she realized that the people of the Imaginary District often found themselves in need of items from the outside, and that not everyone could mingle with the humans to get them. She decided to become a courier, running items of interest (and occasionally sensitive information) from the human city to the supernatural community... but why buy those things when one can just take what one wants?

Needless to say, her line of work has gotten her in trouble with both human authorities and the Imaginary District police, who don't appreciate the attention her activities gather. But she's not likely to stop anytime soon, as she knows some people have come to rely on her. And as for the law? Well, the thrill of the chase is just one more thing that makes it fun.

So intense, WOW...
Until the day you grasp it, keep pushing forward on YOUR WAY
YOU GOTTA GET IT
Eternally, KEEP IT ON YOUR MIND
Starting right now I'll stop time for you
LET'S PLAY LIKE YOU WANT TO, to your heart's content
Having come all this way, don't you dare say you're turning back!
That's impossible now
Pushing foward with that deliberate crime, come now, GO YOUR OWN WAY
Don't look back! AIN'T NOBODY GOT TIME FOR THAT!
ALL RIGHT! Messing up isn't a problem!
A great battle with the enemy that stands before you!
With that kind of feeling TRY IT
SO Say it, Do it!
Come on just DO IT
If you earnestly wish for it,
There is nothing you can't do
Since there is nothing holding you back,
Always
Wish for it wholeheartedly, make that tongue move
Just the way you want, WOW....
Leave it to your desires, push forward on YOUR WAY
YOU GOTTA GET IT
Clearly KEEP IT ON YOUR MIND
Making a face like that, looking like you're lost
What do you plan to blame it on this time?
A life lived without excuses
Get with it already!
Even shedding countless tears,
Rise above it, EVERYTIME
Even striving for the unreachable,
Calling it "just a dream"
Don't you dare let it end like that
Always
Press on wholeheartedly, meet the challenge with intensity
Just like you want it, WOW...
Seize upon your impulses, GO YOUR WAY, to the extreme
YOU GOTTA GET IT
Instinctively KEEP IT ON YOUR MIND
What can be seen in those eyes,
Is something more certain than anything
With hand outstretched,
It's surely waiting for you
Always
Seek it wholeheartedly, feel it all the way inside
So intense, WOW...
Until the day you grasp it, keep pushing forward on YOUR WAY
YOU GOTTA GET IT
Eternally KEEP GOING ON
Wish for it wholeheartedly, make that tongue move
Just the way you want, WOW....
It's fine to do it just the way you like, keep on going YOUR WAY
YOU GOTTA GET IT
Instinctively KEEP IT ON YOUR MIND
Eternally, KEEP IT ON YOUR MIND

[User]
Ryuuko, Newcomer Dragon

Ryuuko was having A Day. There was no reference point available yet but Ryuuko was somewhat inclined to believe that it would be referred to as an Interesting Day later down the line. This was the first day that she had ever been able to experience, however, and the rest of her existence was an invalid comparison; lots of time but no days. It seemed inappropriate to compare time spent floating, even divisible by the same length of time as days, to a span of time chosen for its intrinsic relationship to the rotation period and orbital path of the planet that she had bumped into.

So far, the day had been exciting in unpleasant ways or simply confusing. Space was notable for its lack of obstacles to run into and, consequently, one of the more mobile specks the dragon was used to seeing getting bigger and bigger was well... unexpected enough to make avoiding the Earth a tricky proposition. She hadn't even thought to slow down (noticeable gravitational effects were rare as well) and had made rather a big trough on landing... which had set off the furry hell-beasts until someone had noticed.

The following talking-to had first made sure that this wasn't intentional and that Ryuuko was a dragon and not anything more common, as well as rather awkward for the police officer until they'd managed to get some fitting clothing. After something that fit the description of a "stern talking to", hey had asked her to go into a waiting room whilst a detective was fetched. At first, Ryuuko had been baffled by this--was she going to be helping out a detective on her first day on Earth? That seemed exciting but a bit of an odd choice...

The white-haired girl had more pressing matters on her mind after a few minutes. Namely, the chairs: not only were they uncomfortably small for her tastes, the backs were solid. What was she supposed to do with her tail in this case? The nice officer that had tied a ribbon on it had told her to not break anything else or start a fight, but the only solution Ryuuko could think of was to use her talons and claws to just tear a hole in them.

So the, rather tall, dragon had ended up crouched on the floor and glowering at the furniture.

[Assistant]
Detective Shun Baba

The alarm cuts through the darkness with a soul wrenching shriek, ripping Shun from his slumber. "And thus it begins..." He thinks, pushing his white hair out of his face as he slams (with no small amount of hostility) the off button from the offending clock. With reluctance, he throws the covers off of himself, stepping onto the cold floor of his empty apartment. Heat cost money, after all, and with his job...well, money didnt grow on trees in the ID.

He rubs his eyes, the above not being necessarily true. On rare occasions, idiots would leave the district and hit up china, buying money tree seeds. Inevitably, they'd either get caught, with the contraband on the way back, or they'd soon discover the trees only yielded bronze coins and get caught trying to pawn them. He drops his PJ bottoms and boxers, turning the shower on. "Damn shame though. Solve me a lot of problems if someone figured out how to breed a yen variant." he thinks as he cleans himself, then lets the hot water warm him as he slowly manages to awaken.

It wasn't like he was in a rush after all. Today was the first shift he had since his minor 'vacation', and he had given himself a good two hours to get to the station. "Still cant believe they made me take vacation time for this. Three damn days just to move and that warrants eating into my vacation time."  he grumbles, turn the shower off and stepping out. Wordlessly he grabs his toothbrush, letting himself air dry as he brushes. Spit, rinse. "Its damn wage theft"  he continues, walking back to his room and then gently throwing the closet open. "We should just unionize already. F**king treat a bunch of effective immortals like wage slaves just cause we dont need to build up a retirement. Chiefs a bigger damn thief than the landlord…" he says while he dresses, clean tailored suit hugging comfortably against him and the familiar weight of his gun resting gently on his hip.

He didnt really mean much of what he was says (well, except for the scalping landlord part). It was just noise to fill the uncomfortably silent air of the apartment. While he was living with his family he'd become accustomed to a certain level of(...the only word which fit in his mind was chaos) to fill his mornings...and afternoons. Most of the day really. As such he found filling the silence with reflection helped ease his discomfort….he then found reflection a terribly dull subject and opted instead to complain even his most minor of grievances to his captive audience of chairs and wall paper.

He stifles a frustrated sigh as he examines himself in the closet mirror, straightening his tie. Enough self pity and whining Shun, today is going to be a good day. In fact, its going to be a damn fine day. The finest damn day you ever damned to to deem as a damn fine day dammit. You're going to walk to work, clock in, get a REAL case, get some productive work done and clock out feeling like-
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"A Massive Asshole." Shun says, steely gaze affixed on the (admittedly) unfortunate secretary as he handed him his days assignment. "...I am deadly serious Yui, is that what I am. A massive asshole?" He asks again. The young (well, he guessed anyway. It always being difficult to tell) Sunekosuri folded her ears back, intimidated as she stammered her answer. "Y-y-you aren't a massive asshole j-j-j-j-j-j-ju-"

 "Then why is it, Yui" he says, interrupting the girl as he reads over his 'assignment' once again. "Why is it then that I'm being asked to act as a glorified babysitter…" he continues "Because, with all honesty. I'd love to know. Your insight would be valuable as a friend and colleague." he returns his gaze to the dog girl, who is now somewhat confused as to how to take that question.

She hides behind her small stack of papers, nose and glasses pressed up hard against the forms. "I d-d-d-dont know ok? Maybe be-because you're such a cute little k-k-kid and-" she feels a physical wave of mild irritation fire off from the sheep demon and presses her face harder into the papers. "WRONG THING TO SAY WRONG THING TO SAY YOU'RE NOT CUTE OR LITTLE OR A KID WELL YOU ARE CUTE BUT YOUR NOT A LITTLE KID IM SORRY FOR CALLING YOU CUTE PLEASE JUST DO THE JOB THEY GET MAD AT ME WHEN I LET PEOPLE RETURN THEIR ASSIGNMENTS BECAUSE WE'RE SHORT HANDED AT TIMES AND I DONT KNOW HOW I GOT INTO ALL OF THIS I JUST WANTED TO BE A SECRETARY AND READ TRASHY NOVELS AND MY EX GOT ME THIS JOB BUT NOW IM SINGLE AND STRESSED AND IM SORRY I CALLED YOU CUTE AND LITTLE PLEASE JUST DO YOUR JOB SO I DONT GET YELLED AT MORE." She says over the span of a quarter second moderately loudly.

Shun maintains his cold stare at her, unflinching at the rapid fire (and very confused) apology. Yui huffs a few times, catching her breath.  "...alright Yui. I appreciate the input and will get it done. Thank you. I apologize if I upset you."  He says coolly, standing up and walking towards the waiting room, leaving the poor girl to attempt to recover on her own. "Thank you Baba-san…." she wheezes as the sheep demon walks away.

The sheep demon pushes the door the waiting room open, one eye glowering out into the room behind a sea of bangs. Directly at the crouching scaled woman currently eyeing the office chairs like they had a history together. . "Excuse me," he says, uncomfortably reminded of his stature by the dragon girl. God, he must REALLY look like a child next to her… he shakes the thought from his mind and continues. "You are the dragon girl who fell earlier today, is that correct?"
Daze

[User]
~Shina~

As she waited on a more...in detail answer from the woman, Shina turned her head to the house. It seemed like things were going...very slowly? Whatever it was, it seemed the others with her hadn't done anything relating to the mission at all. That was fine, really. She wasn't really all for this little get together anyways. What she wasn't fine with, was the fact she said she'd do this, and it wasn't getting done. Which meant she was gonna have to get off her ass and do this herself.

Goddamn it. Unless she was fighting something she wasn't entirely sure she was capable of doing this.

"You," She said to Akio. "Don't get into any trouble." There was a vaguely hostile unspoken 'or else' left there. Not that the kid would have much choice in the matter if he did, but she could at least encourage him to not do anything stupid while she took care of this. Sighing, the Oni walked over to the kid.

"Yeah that's us. Nice to meet ya kiddo." Shina replied with a grunt. "Himeko-chan is your cat, huh? Where'd you last see her?"

[Assistant]
Miki had continued following the cat-hunting group in uncharacteristic silence, hovering around the edges while others joined the squad.

Man, it's strange feeling this out-of-place... Though I guess it must be even stranger for... Akio? I think? Whatever the human kid's name is.

She looked him over with interest, but kept a neutral expression on her face. He seemed pleasant enough, and was definitely dealing with the situation better than she'd expect a normie to. Maybe she could use someone like him...

A thought struck her, and she sidled up beside him, close enough that only he would be able to catch her stage-whisper.

"Y'know, the ID is a lot more fun if you do get into trouble. Betcha I can prove it, too."