[System]
Age: 17
Crest: Knowledge
Appearance:
Bio:
 Aaric was born into a very affluent family. His father and mother got along fairly well, and Aaric had neutral (bordering resentment) relationship toward his parents. However, the oddity was that his parents were absent most of the time due to work. Especially coupled with the fact that he was the only child, Aaric had little interaction with other people, minus the occasional silent nanny that came over to clean the house and the family dog. Fortunately Aaric had access to large swaths of books and resources thanks to his parents wealth, odd choices, and lack of computers. Out of the extensive collection, he would usually ignore the more scientific books in favor for more lore intensive studies, including extensive fantasies, historical non-fiction, and even advanced literary works when age permitted him understanding.

 By himself, Aaric had learned to become somewhat independent, learning to cook, to laundry, and to take care of the dog whenever the maids were not present. He even biked to school on most occasions. Though, these skills were gained more out of necessity, as his parents refused to provide him with a myriad butlers or maids to take care of him. More often than not, Aaric was left to his own devices when it came to management of the house. However, despite not providing great amounts of servants, Aaric's parents hired numerous tutors that visited the estate after Aaric went to school, nearly everyday. This left Aaric with a surprising lack of free time.

 With the influences of his somewhat privileged and "freed" life, Aaric gained some amount of independency. However, in school, with tutors, and with the rare servant, Aaric rarely had any real human to human interaction, leaving him inexperienced with conversation and relationship. In addition, because he grew up on literature based on fantasy and history, Aaric had a certain "disposition" that made him a little bit more "romantic" yet "flatter" than others of his age. Often, kids of his age usually stayed away from him due to his eccentricity and inflexibility toward others.

 Now approaching the halfway point of age 17, Aaric is successful in his schooling. However, he is, as of now, ignorant to the fact that there is much more to this life other than eat, study, and sleep.

Name: Hakase
Personality: A easy going yet witty digimon. Often, Hakase will crack sardonic criticism with the worst of it occurring in his rookie form. Despite his habit, however, most of his judgements are actually quite reasonable, albeit in a manner that might not be all that appropriate. In addition, Hakase knows a great deal about the current state of the digital world but chooses not to flaunt his knowledge in favor for more critical assessments of character.

Stage- Baby
Species: Botamon
Attribute: None
Technique-
 1: Acid Bubble - Shoots acid bubbles from his mouth

Stage- In-Training
Species: Koromon
Attribute: Data
Technique-
 1: Acid Bubbles - Shoots acid bubble from his mouth
 2: Soft Tackle - Uses the body to tackle opponent

Stage- Rookie
Species: Hakase Agumon
Attribute: Vaccine
Technique-
 1: Hakase Bo - Employs his professor baton to sway the target.
 2: Baby Flame - Shoots a small flame from his mouth.
 3: Claw Attack - Uses his claw to beat down on an opponent.

Stage- Champion
Species: Wizardmon
Attribute: Data
Technique-
 1: Magical Games - A technique that can have varying mindgame-esque elements
 2: Electro Squall - Releases lighting from hand or staff
 3: Blink Breeze - Release an icy blast of wind from the staff

Stage- Ultimate
Species: Wisemon
Attribute: Virus
Technique-
 1: Pandora Dialogue - Captures and stores the attacks of the opponent that can later be used later with great speed and potency.
 2: Eternal Nirvana - Captures a digimon into the Space-Time stones for any desired time.

Stage- Mega
Species: Ancient Wisemon
Attribute: Virus
Technique-
 1: Proteus Mirror - Can replicate any attack that has been observed and absorbed by his mirror raised to Hakase's power level
 2: Laplace no Ma - Imprisons a digimon into the spirit world for any desired time
 3: Elder Sign - Summons a powerful interdimensional being to fight for Hakase
Other:

[User]
Lizzy raised an eyebrow at the girl who had snatched up the cigarettes and was now staring her down. Her stare seemed almost hostile, Perhaps not the time to give up those conniving bitch ways just yet. She thought as she mocked striking a lighter with her right hand, hoping the other girl similarly lacked a means of lighting the cigarettes, that would just make her day. Or at least it would somewhat make up for the whole falling from the sky to a foreign land thing that had happened.

And perhaps Dorotea would've followed this gesture as well. Perhaps she'd even try to put her foot down, had she not been taken back by the triumph Biance showed. It was impossible for her to hold back her giggling at this point. Was it immature? Probably. Was it uncalled for? Most certainly. Was it a complete mood killer? Absolutely. But if she cared at all, she did little to show it. Once the series of choked, disbelieving giggles were more or less successfully smothered poorly by a hand in front of her mouth, she lifted it away with a single finger raised.

"Hold--hold up. Put those things down man. Why you bringing this from a zero to a hundred?"
She took a deep breath, trying to drown out a second bout of giggles.
"I mean, shit, I ain't judging if you need that many, but c'mon. Who's you gonna use them with even?"

Lizzy stifled a giggle at the girl who had introduced herself as Dorotea's comment. A young lass probably still in secondary school by the looks of her, and a fellow ginger, perhaps a kindred spirit - though it was still far too soon to make such judgements. She followed pausing for a moment, she didn't want to cause an escalation of hostilities, but the opportunity was there and she couldn't resist."Don't listen tah her darlin', nothing wrong with bein' a bit 'adventurous' I'd probably not advertise it so readily though."

The younger ginger gave a small snort.

"No kiddin', least take the lucky guy to dinner before y'all start fucking. Or gal, sure ain't no judging from me."

"Aye but perhaps it's just another case of the Irish Catholic Institute producing a sexually repressed frigid prude on my part."

Lizzy snickered at her own comment. In strange company the joke lost a bit of it's luster, but she still amused herself and it got a chuckle out of Dorotea. Though the thought struck her that maybe there was some truth to it, she doubted it, but just maybe wherever this stranger was from the cultural differences were so vast that she actually was a sexually repressed frigid prude to her. A terrifying thought.

[Assistant]
"I..." Carter was dumbfounded. Cigarettes? Condoms? What the ever loving fuck was going on? "Ok, ok. First off, Language. Please. For the love of god." Being raised among the military, Carter knew a couple things about a few swears here and there, but all of that was put away when he was around his parents. Even now he still tried not to curse in front of people, despite the fact that it was all too easy to slip into that sort of language. "We need to find out what's going on. Smoke if you want, but nobody's using those condoms. We don't have time for that." Maybe it was something inside Carter that was naturally against the thought of sex. Maybe it was his own previous experiences that lead him to being somewhat adverse to it.

Some of these people looked around his age, some looked a little younger, and some looked really young. Carter didn't want to make any parents mad or see any judges, so it was best to try and keep things as clean as possible. Just for the sake of safety. He looked to each of them, moving his hands around to offer them a chance to speak. He certainly didn't have and ideas on where to start, but maybe one of them was a boy scout or something."Ideas, anyone?"

[User]
Franky was clearly on the receiving end of some weird looks due to the infamous box of condoms. The worst offender being a girl whose face looked comfortable being upset. She looked like a goth to him, and she called herself Dorotea. His literal first time hearing that name. He wondered where she, or hell anyone else here was from. The first ones to speak sounded fairly western but as more of them spoke up the subtle hints of where they came from made this a sort of melting pot. Still dazed by what the hell was happening Franky still held the box in his hands, though he clinched it bending the paper wrapping. "Hey." He said lowly to her and her strange looks, a warning that she was steering down a wrong path in her idea of who he was. Though he sighed immediately afterwards, shrugging emphatically as if to show he was letting it go. Though this was for himself more than for her.@Loony

Z took the time to sit with his legs crossed. Clearly frustrated but meditating it out. He looked at the child Alex who spoke up. She sounded like a girl so he safely assumed it was. But the child body made it hard for him to tell either way. He felt truly unlucky now. It was not good to have kids around wondering what sex was in what might be a alien planet waiting to devour them. He didn't need to feel anymore anxiety. Speaking of anxiety I do have those cigarettes. I'm not a smoker but.. He began to reach for the pack but felt a shadow loom over him from another person who was in this group.

"Huh?" Not often does he come across a foreigner. Or at least one from upstanding Europe. Normally from south of the boarder and a lot less pale. "Oh uh nice to meet ya. Yeah it's Z to make it easier." He smiled at her. She seemed clean and her accent was kind of attractive. Definitely more classy sounding that the NY accent from the Bronx. He thought about the price while rubbing his chin hairs. "Euros? Nah you're good. Just tak'em." As he spoke he reached for them to hand to her. He felt nothing but grass and air as he touched where the pack was. She looked up to see the girl from earlier who addressed everyone taking the condoms and the cigarettes.

Franky couldn't help but shake his head at this girl. She was a fiery one and a trouble maker. A lot like the girls at his old inner city highschool. Best to ignore them and flow with it. That's how he got by their infuriating behavior and there was seldom chance things will change by arguing. They were only good for a few things and it was made more clear by the amount of pregnancies he saw. He thought this as he watched Biance's petite rump from behind as she walked away.

The other girl Dorotea began giggling uncontrollably and making passing jokes. It didn't infect him with laughter instead he looked to the east of their location and sighed placing his hands on his hips as he lifted to his feet. Standing taller than the two girls now he looked down at them but briefly before scratching his head. He felt at a loss of what to do. When asked by Carter if anyone had ideas he could only shake his head. "Just what kind of fucking day is this turning out to be...?"

[Assistant]
Aaric had remained as stiff as glass, his face still tinted with red. As he shifted his eyes around, he realized that nobody had paid attention to him. Relieved, Aaric's body became flexible once again, allowing his head to rest upon his shoulders and his blood to settle down.

 "What was I thinking? I've never done that to complete strangers!" A moment of contemplation of his recent actions was taken. Slowly, his focus began to shift towards the conversations being thrown around in the group, but upon hearing subject, Aaric immediately placed the simple ideas of those things into a mental box labelled "forbidden fruits." His blinds were immediately closed and his doors were locked, Aaric withdrew within himself, applying himself to observe the scenery over rather than listening to the offensive conversation.

 Aaric looked up into the pale blue noon sky. Aaric found it quite refreshing despite having fallen down to the earth. Aaric continued to stare at the sky. Then he squinted his eyes and cocked his head closer towards it. The heavenly being that always watches over the earth was absent. Mystified, Aaric began walking around the clearing in a circle, looking in multiple angles. The sun was still absent. In order to clear his confusion, Aaric began his ascent up a tree. It was a clumsy climb, but he was invested into it and his curtains open to discovery of knowledge. Higher and higher, he climbed, pushing through the branches, twigs, and leaves, eventually popping his head out into the open canopy. The same gentle breeze that moved the clouds brushed against his face. Refreshing after a cramped and stuffy climb.

 Aaric refocused himself. He perused the open horizons, confirming that indeed, the sun had vanished. This caused Aaric's eyebrows to furrow. Aaric then looked down into the clearing. He could see everyone from his vantage point. There was some commotion down at the bottom, but he couldn't care less about what was going down there. His setting was much more important. Aaric continued to stare down at the clearing, observing the beige, compacted earth present everywhere on the ground. He suddenly noticed a feature of the ground; it appeared to be printed with very light wirelike engravings. It was now the ground that called Aaric. Aaric began his descent from the canopy through the leaves, making a similarly clumsy movement down the trunk. Immediately after touching the ground, he scrutinized the ground to ensure that his observation was correct. There was no doubt that the ground had etchings, and in fact, the wires were on nearly everything. The trees, the leaves, and the flowers, perhaps the sky were ladened with wired impressions.

 Aaric's eyebrows furrowed. His mind began to leaf through his mental library, gathering and connecting all the relevant information he had in his expansive collection. All outrageous and even unlikely possibilities were immediately discarded, but however, informational voids halted this progress. His mind combed through the data once again, only to have the true realization pass underneath his nose once again. He could smell it, but he could not see it. The fact that this truth had eluded Aaric incurred a juvenile frustration inside of him.

  A person's voice requested, cutting through Aaric's thought process. Aaric wasn't too keen on sharing his knowledge with others. However, with the gap in his knowledge, Aaric was a little bit more inclined to do so. However, he wouldn't do it with those unconcerned hooligans but with the person who actually cares about the situation. Aaric meandered towards the the militarily dressed man.

 "Hey" Aaric said, catching the attention of the military man. "I have not the slightest idea where we are." Aaric said calmly as he finished walking towards person. Whenever it came to business and information, Aaric could manage talking with people. "However, I did make a few observations that might help us indicate where we are. I've noticed that…" From there, Aaric recounted only his observations he had made.


[System]
Age: 23 (technically)
Gender: Female

Description:
Standing at a total height of 5'9", Aryanna is just a little taller than the average height for humans in her realm. Her long black hair stands in stark contrast to her already pale complexion, reaching all the way down to her hips. Aryanna's eyes are a striking golden color that are considered fairly uncommon amongst humans, a clear sign of her affinity to the magical arts. She isn't much for athletics however she is reasonably fit despite her physical appearance, built more for stamina than physical strength. Her clothing is somewhat outdated to the current trends, though they bear a sense of status over just your average commoner.

~~

Personality:
Once upon a time, Aryanna used to be a very kind a lively soul. Having belonged to a family of notable status, she was brought up in a privileged environment and bore many of the mannerisms that accompanied that lifestyle. She made it a point to be nice to everyone, however, she knew where she stood socially and would do her best to avoid interactions with certain kinds of people because of it.

Even the 'perfect daughter' has her rebellious side though. Aryanna was never much of a fan of particular areas of study. These were usually the classes that taught her to sew, and cook, and be an all around perfect lady so that someday she may be happily married. The entire idea of it bored her to tears and she would often skip out on these lessons to read, even as a young girl. She would ride horses like any man would, and could be found on occasion dirtying her clothes in sports matches with the boys.

Much of this changed after it was discovered that she and her brother had an affinity to an incredibly rare type of magic. Without being given much of a choice, the pair had been removed from their home and began their studies in the magic arts. By the time the two had completed their training, most of her light-hearted nature had faded away. Her sense of superiority had grown exponentially and she found great pleasure in manipulating people into getting her what she wanted. What used to be fun games turned into cruel pranks for her own amusement and gods help anyone who tried to tell her no. Aryanna had developed a relatively short fuse, and had little patience for anyone she deemed less intelligent than she.

Some of her extreme behavior evened out after the apparent loss of her brother, as she became more reserved and less willing to interact with others at all… Even negatively. She did, however, maintain her sense of superiority and a slightly less than acceptable fuse for stupidity. These days she seems lost more than anything else, but is much too prideful to admit to any sort of weakness.

History:
Aryanna Torre had a fairly normal upbringing as a child. She and her twin brother could always be found playing with one another, managing to get themselves into harmless trouble. Growing up as nobility, they had access to schooling that many other kids did not though it wouldn't be until much later that they would recognize and understand their difference in privilege. Even at a young age, and despite much of their trolling antics, the pair were quite the studious bunch. They would steal books and hide away, reading for hours on end and sharing with the other what it was that they had learned. For them, everything was completely normal until the day they turned ten.

She and her brother had always had lighter eyes, brown like their parents but with the added gold flecks throughout the iris. It wasn't unheard of, and was actually highly regarded in their circle. However, when they woke up on their tenth birthday, both children discovered that the gold had completely taken over. They appeared much like those belonging to the beast shifting tribes to the far south, yet their pupils were still rounded instead of slit. This was a sign of a much different bloodline altogether. In the following days, a few different elders were called in to assess the children. While each sage was able to identify their affinity to magic, none were quite able to pinpoint what their alignment was to despite them pair appearing to have the same exact alignment. It wasn't until a man by the name of Halberd made his assessments that any answers were given. Aryanna and her twin brother were both identified as being users of the magic knowns as Nether. Neither child was too keen on spending any time near the man and had both voiced their fears of him, alas, their parents still made the decision to hand them over to a man who was all too eager to teach them.

For the next five years, the twins studied day and night to learn all that they possibly could… not that they had been given much of a choice. Their training was harsh, cruel even. Food was restricted, they could sleep only when told, and neither kid saw sunlight for the first year they spent with the man. The first year was spent breaking them of their spirits, leaving behind blank slates for him to work with. The next two years were spent in constant competition with other potential mages, learning the basics of spells, runes, and the like. A few of the disciples died, others disappeared without a trace, never to be seen again, but through it all, Aryanna and her brother survived. Things began looking up during the final two years of their training as they had already proved their worth and earned the right to learn their element specific craft.

Pieces of her memory are lost from those last two years, having maintained knowledge of her craft, but recalling no specifics on events… Almost as if they had been stolen from her. All she knows is that by the end of her fifth year of magical training she had become a master of Nether. She never saw the sage Halberd again and it would be nearly five years until she saw him again, having assumed him dead after the first two. Unfortunately, their reunion was not to be a happy one, and has set into motion events that could very well reshape the whole realm.

While she never figured out what happened to have twisted him so badly, Aryanna found herself at war against her own flesh and blood. There weren't many mages that could stand up against the forces of darkness that had been unleashed, and one by one, Aryanna's comrades were hunted down and murdered. Those that remained either joined him or fled, never to be seen again. She attempted to face him on her own, however, they were matched evenly enough that neither side could manage to best the other. In an attempt to win her over to his side, her brother revealed that she was a piece he needed for his plans, plans she would take no part of.

Aryanna fled, following the voice of a crystal she had worn around her neck since she began her training so many years before. Her cowardice disgusted her but she knew that she was doing the right thing in the end, sealing herself away until the day she could return and face her brother once more.

~~

Elemental Alignment: Nether
Crystal Form: Around her neck on a silver chain.

~~

Other: She has an inexplicable fear of spiders.

[User]
Morgan Reine

Morie glanced at the Asian boy as he beckoned her over--man, actually, now that she looked at him. He was quite short, but it was clear looking at his face that he was at least her age, if not older.

She hesitated, not entirely certain about complying and adding herself to the group of complete strangers. Before she could make a decision, a voice answered her from the edge of the clearing. Morie wheeled around, ready for... something. Her eyes widened slightly as she took in the state the owner of the voice was in, alarms going off--as if they hadn't been already.

"Clearly you are no longer."

Morie subtly pulled a face at the statement, unsure if it was supposed to be sarcastic. "...Clearly," she muttered, eyeing the woman up and down some more. Morie paused seeing her exposed feet. That wasn't okay.

The pale-blonde made a movement to reach into her gym bag... but realized it wasn't around her shoulder. Of course it wasn't. She had put it down just before she was taken here... to 'Astoria.'

Frowning slightly, Morie glanced down at the sneakers on her own feet. The black-haired woman looked in far worse shape than she was. Morie could live without shoes for a bit. She paused before kicking them off though, seeing the short man reaching into a bag that he evidently hadn't left behind, seeing him pull a pair of... shoes? It was footwear, at least, but not like any Morie had ever seen. Well, they would be better than nothing for sure. Morie smiled to herself as she watched the man placed them on the ground near the woman. It was a good first impression he was making on her--she definitely had respect for him now, considering he had evidently had a similar train of thought as she had.

Morie's gaze shifted to the tiny blonde. Lucy. The way she had introduced herself and asked for information from the black-haired woman was warm and polite. The girl seemed genuine, which was good.

Looking back to the black-haired woman's torn clothing, Morie gave a small sigh and slipped her arms out of her track jacket. Her heart skipped a beat for a moment as she realized she wasn't wearing her necklace--had she left it back at the gym? After the moment of intense anxiety, she remembered exactly where it was. Unzipping the right pocket of her jacket that she now held in her hands, she pulled out the leather necklace, a green stone fastened at the end. With another small sigh, this time of relief, she put it on, fingering the stone with one hand while she held out the jacket towards the woman.

"If you want to cover up some more, you can borrow this," Morie said. With her head, she motioned towards the shoes that the short man had just put down. "You look like hell. Put those on, and then start talking." She glanced from the woman to the rest of the group. It seemed like none of them had a clue what was going on, so they'd likely appreciate answers sooner rather than later. The platinum-blonde paused for a moment as she looked at the group. "Morie," she said simply, with a slight thumb point to herself with the hand that was playing with her necklace to make it clear that that was her introduction.

[Assistant]
"Yeah. Safely," Damien muttered getting to his feet and rubbing his sore backside.

This newcomer was rather off-putting. The dirty, bloody dress and lack of shoes did not make him feel any better about her despite the fact that she seemed to be their only source of information on this.. Astoria. The Asian offered her a pair of shoes and one of the blondes offered her a jacket, but something told him she would not bother to accept them. Whoever the bizarre stranger was, she had yet to even introduce herself. One of the blondes, whose name was apparently Morie though this was likely a nickname, was the first to outright demand information. Damien figured the aggressive looking redhead would have been the first, but nothing about any of this was anywhere close to normal.

"I'm with the blonde. Who are you and where are we? More importantly, how do we get back?"

[User]
Aryanna was quick to note her impact on the group standing before her. A few of them seemed slightly alarmed at her sudden arrival while a couple of others seemed rather unphased. If she were apart of their group, she figured she would have been with those skeptical of the stranger. People's reactions to new situations always seemed to amuse her, this case was no different.

What did surprise her was the first arrival's willingness to share his own supplies with someone who he knew nothing about. She hadn't even had a chance to introduce herself yet before he was offering her some kind of shoe out of his bag. Aryanna looked down at them curiously as the boy stood back a few paces. They appeared to be made out of a material she was unfamiliar with, having seen nothing like it before in her realm. She was uncertain as to how they would feel on her feet, but she did have to wonder if they would be better than nothing. It wasn't as if she particularly minded going without, after all, she had been chased for miles through these forests before she made it to the clearing. If she recalled correctly, the weather had been winter at the time… She wondered what season it was now.

The girl was pulled from her wayward thoughts as one of the others spoke up, the final arrival before Aryanna had revealed herself. If she had to guess, it seemed as if her slightly disheveled appearance had caused a small amount of alarm among the group. To be fair, there were dried blood stains on her clothing. She was beginning to wonder how long it would take for one of them to snap and attack her. Aryanna thought that outcome unlikely, however, considering how generous they were being with their own supplies.

"Your kindness is appreciated. I must, however, decline your offerings. Probably best if you keep your supplies close for now, no telling what you'll need." She shook her head politely, raising a hand in refusal. Considering their current position, it was possible that trouble could come looking at any time. Part of her concern was being ready for such a situation whatever it may be, after all, the group before her wouldn't have any idea of what to do. They were, after all, already freaking out over their transportation… How could she expect them to fight properly. Either way, she couldn't be bothered with adjusting to unfamiliar adjustments. She also wasn't too keen on wearing other people's clothing, but that was an entirely different gripe.

While the girl had yet to hand over her jacket, the boy had already retreated back to his original position. She thought it might be a little rude to make him walk all the way back just to pick them back up, so she did the polite thing and returned them to his hands herself. The only catch, she never moved from her position. Aryanna's golden eyes sparked to life, seeming to take on an incandescent glow of the same color as she raised her arm. Scooping her hand up through the air, the shadows surrounding the shoes engulfed the items and raised them off of the ground a couple of feet. She made a motion with hand as if she was offering out the shoes herself, the shadows delivering the item back to their owner before retaking their rightful form. Without skipping a beat she turned her attention back to the group as a whole and spoke.

"Well, since we'll be stuck together for a little while it seems, I guess a proper introduction is in order. My name is Aryanna Torre although if you find the need to shorten it, Ari will do just fine. You'll find that a lot of things in Astoria are a little different than what you're used to in Terra, but you don't have to worry too much. So long as you're with me, I'll make sure you're taken care of… Mostly." Aryanna's smile held a hint of mischief to it, a subtle curl of her lip and laugh in her eyes that betrayed her amusement. Her tone, however, left little room for doubt as to whether or not she was telling the truth.

She paused for a moment, turning her head to look out at the treeline curiously before returning her attention back to the group.

"Since you all seem to be handling the transition rather well I guess it wouldn't hurt to tell you how you got here. It's simple really, I brought you here. " Aryanna admitted rather bluntly, seemingly unconcerned by any of it.

"I just won't be sending you back. Well, if we want to be accurate here… I don't actually have the power to send you back. That is beside the point though. What exactly would be the point in summoning you all here if I was just going to turn around and send you right back home? There's far too much work to be done and not a whole lot of time left to do it… That's why you were called here."


[System]
Demon
Age: 50

Personality: Abraxas is a mysterious entity, who is a conflicted creature. He can be animalistic at times with little reasoning and is aggressive, preforming acts of violence quite frequently. He is naturally a malevolent creature but can be reasoned with. Due to his imprisonment he has a deep hatred for humans but knows nothing of the outside world. He has a corrupting influence on magic and those that get too close.

Looks:

Alternative looks: Has none yet.

Background: He was born in a place far away, to parents who abandoned their offspring. His siblings were either eaten or killed within the first couple of days, for only the strong survived. By chance he was set upon by the hunters not a week old, yet already as large as a big dog. They captured him, as he was not yet dangerous enough to pose a threat to challenge their safety. Abraxas soon learned the cruelness of the humans as they frequently lashed out at their captives, deeming them inferior, lower then dragons. He wondered what a dragon was, and if it could be eaten with one gulp.

Months later, and now as large as a man they arrived at the prison in the darkness of night. The journey itself was harsh and his cage was covered with a black cloth to hide him from the sun and prying eyes. Every time he tried to escape his confinement, he found that the bars burned his skin at the lightest touch but it didn't stop him from trying. Days became weeks, weeks turned into months and the passing of time blurred into years. Throughout those years he grew into a formidable demon, the size of an upright grizzly bear, looking down upon the guards always. His brute strength made him deemed dangerous, and instead of moving him to a different cell, they built a larger, more durable one around the old. That was until his metamorphism began around the age of 25.

It would last for another 25 years, changing his body slightly, making him become infused with dark magic. This magic was of flame and shadow, and deadly to those that would incur his wrath. The shadow was about him at all times, and the flame he could call upon at will. It engulfed him, wrapping around his body like a blanket, free flowing. It was dark and it suited him for upon his awakening, he found things in ruins, the prison that once contained him in flames. He broke free from his old confinement and clawed his way up to the surface. The light blinded his glowing blue eyes and when they adjusted he saw a strange place, full of rock towers and thick layers of fog. He walked away from the rubble, quickly coming to a street full of humans and their devices. His revenge had begun, yet in this world he did not know, there were creatures more dangerous then humans..

Did they escape the hunters prison?: Yes

[User]
A black and grey cat sat on a tree branch, staring into Gold Village. Next to him was a closed notebook, which contained various drawings of humans and dragons with ancient writing next to each sketch.

His tail swished back in forth with curiosity as he watched the civilians walk around the village. His piercing red eyes were staring at a fruit stand. He always wanted to try human food, but he has no way to acquire the money needed to buy it. He stared with a bit of envy as one of the humans bought a red-ish fruit.

(Is this long enough of a post? If not, I'll try to make longer posts. Also tell me of anything else I did, because I'm 99% sure I messed up somewhere? ^^')

[Assistant]
The village's peace was not to last, for suddenly, a group of men and women ran through the streets, flapping their arms like wings and screaming out, "We are the Chickens of the night, here us cluck and tremble!" Before using their hands to peck at people all around. The village guard tried to apprehend them, but they moved fast and fluidly, easily evading the guard's clutches as they continued their mass pecking. On a nearby rooftop was Nexias, laughing his ass of as he witnessed the chaos he had wrought below, his laughter becoming even louder when one of the guards tripped and went flying into a meat cart, causing it to collapse and for ham, sausage, and other assorted meats roll along the ground, causing even more chaos as people ran to grab it, or tripped over it while trying to avoid the chickens of the night.

"I knew this was going to be hilarious, but it turned out better than I had ever imagined.." Nexias said when he finally calmed down enough to comment on the chaos below. He sighed, however, as all good things must end, and he'd get in trouble if he let someone get seriously injured from this. With a snap of his fingers, the chickens of the night were returned to sanity, and looked around confusedly, wondering ow they had gotten there. Nexias then gave a coughing grunt, alerting all in attendance to his presence, his wings in plain view, his fangs shining in the daylight, and his intense purple eyes filled with mischievous glee.

"Well know, wasn't that something, huh, I hope you all enjoyed that little bit of chaos in your day as I know did. Oh, and don't blame the chickens for any of this, they were under my control and not in their right minds. If any harm does come to them, then I will personally beat the sorry shit out of the idiot who did it. With that being said. . . later." The chaos loving dragon dispersed into a shadowy mist that flew away in the blink of an eye, leaving the on lookers of the event speechless and confused at what the hell just happened.

Nexias was soon back at the tribe, as he was fairly fast in his dragon form, which he had taken as soon as he had exited the city, and was preparing to get ready to show off his magical abilities, eager to be recognized as one of GrandFather strength. He was quickly growing in his dragon age, his powers in near constant use and always growing because of it, and his wild ways making it impossible for him to settle down and raise any family or take any mates. Nexias would only take for a mate anyone he deemed interesting enough, as free-spirited as himself or more so, or one who had beaten him in combat, the race of said person didn't matter.

Watching the children as they strutted their magic, seeking to prove themselves able, he smiled, wondering if he'll ever get the chance to see one of his brood take to the stage. If he continued on his present couse of actions, it might soon be impossible for him, though that was mostly his delusions of grandur speaking, as he believe that Great Grand Father ship would soon be in his grasp after he proved himself today. One could say a lot about Nexias, but it should never be said that he is lacking in confidence.

[User]
The dim light of the sun seemed to sketch long shadows upon the area as Abraxas stood silently in the shadows of an alley. Upon his awakening he had left the burning prison from which his cell was held, as the fire barely scratched him. No, in contrast the fire gave him comfort in the twilight that was now. The alley that he stood in was apart of a large market, with many humans about buying and selling, completely oblivious to what was coming. It had been 25 long years since Abraxas had eaten last, he was famished to say the least, and this hunger was now driving him to find the nearest food source; humans. He had never tasted human before, those in charge of him had only fed those in the prison scraps of whatever they could find. Now it was time for the demon to feast.

Before he could come from the shadows, something occurred. Humans who acted differently then those in the market. No, these human flapped their arms and made screeching noises, causing a momentary chaos in the marketplace. Then it was over, and a voice could be heard coming from top a building. It said, "no harm was to come to those that had acted in the odd way, or those that did it would suffer" then vanished into the night. Abraxas was perplexed by this oddity and wondered what the thing was. The most logical thing that came to his mind was a fellow demon of sorts. He didn't really care, as long as it was gone and wouldn't pose a threat, for Abraxas would be the one to make them suffer.

Erupting from the alleyway, like a mad bull, came Abraxas towering over the humans like a lion over sheep. The spikes connected to his wrist, elongated, turning into formidable weapons. Shock filled the humans hearts as they looked at the monster from afar. Abraxas then roared defiantly, letting the town know that he was there and sending the humans running. He charged, his bulk causing indentations in the ground with each power step. He came upon the nearest group of humans in a matter of seconds, sending some flying into buildings with a swipe from his right arm. He swung his left spike blade at a group, sending their bodies to the floor with a sickening crunch. Next, he picked up a screaming female by the looks of it, and devoured her. The taste of human flesh was invigorating, and he craved more.

He sent a bolt of fire into a nearby building, causing it to explode in a plume of fire and smoke, which would soon be seen by all. Abraxas was content causing this chaos, for the thrill of it all was great and he deserved it for being imprisoned for so long. The humans would pay for the insolence at keeping a demon of his caliber locked away. Nothing could stop him now he thought, as he continued the destruction.


[System]
Nickname(Optional): June Bug

Age: 33

Gender: Female

Physical Appearance: Sayeeda is a medium sized woman of middle eastern extraction. She has the wiry build of a swimmer or long distance runner. Her eyes are dark and almond shaped and focus slightly beyond the horizon most of the time. Sayeeda keeps her hair just longer than a buzz cut in order to facilitate wearing her helmet. She has a large tattoo of several owls in flight on her right shoulder. Sayeeda does have feminine curves but her breasts are on the smaller size of average and she does very little to emphasize her gender.

Clothing:  Camo pants and a tank top are her civilian dress. She wears a ceramic breastplate if she is expecting trouble and also has a commo helmet which she uses in battle and for technical tasks.

Personality: Sayeeda is a former mercenary soldier and has a fairly relaxed view towards life. Anything and anyone not currently shooting at her is the second priority. She is very tightly wound when it comes to people doing what she expects them too in dangerous situations and she is extremely punctilious when it comes to fulfilling any sort of formal contract.

[User]
The Hexanagallion gave a clicking growl, unused to such disrespect. It was then he realized he was now standing beside Neil, and the pilot realized it too. "I think we should go," Neil said, trying to change the subject, hoping the Hex would forget he wanted Neil dead. Unlikely he would forget, but still. "Maybe you should help one of us uh, get on top?"

The Hex's expression was unreadable. Well, usually it was unreadable due to his Xeno's nature, but it was unreadable even to Neil, who's had a few very uncomfortable encounters with a very expressive Saxon. Neil decided aid Sayeeda by pushing up on the soles of her shoes, hoisting her up top. She had to squirm a bit to get her weight atop the roof, but she had to keep her body flat to avoid any of the random gunfire, and the possibility of people using optics to spot her.

Neil was less fortunate. Junebug would see Neil being tossed out of the hole she had crawled out of, flying much higher and further than was safe. Neil was fortunate to not get hit by a stray bullet or lasbolt. He rolled almost violently across the roof to fall off the tertiary side in the opposite alleyway. Suddenly, two smoke grenades were tossed out into the streets, fog suddenly billowing out and blanketing the ground below the roof in haze.

Saxon leaped, his saurien legs giving him the strength to make good air but not good enough. His torso was above eyesight, and a series of spikes shot out of his armguard. He slammed the spiked device on the roof, and once the metal was stabbed into the tile he yanked himself up with a grunt. The roof grumbled under his weight.

"Where is your ship?" The brute rumbled.

"I need my pilot first!" Junebug roared back at him as the gunfire increased.

The gangsters on the streets were in the middle of the smoke, those without optics shooting at random thinking they were being attacked. Those that were shooting caused that belief to strengthen, and further shots were fired, curses and battlecries joining in. It seemed they were doing part of the work for them. Neil would have made a quip but he was nowhere to be seen at the moment.

"Where did he go!?" Saxon cried.

"You threw him over the side!" Junebug replied. "Fucking Lizard!"

"Ware your tongue or I'll cut it out!" The Xenos warned, slamming his fist into the roof tile. It was then they both realized the guns had stopped firing, and instead there was shouting.

Meanwhile below, Neil had gathered his wits and clung to the alleywall, hidden from view to the gangster and listening to them regroup. Luckily the smoke still permeated the area, so Neil was still cloaked even when he peeked out into the street. He saw silhouettes in the shadow, about a dozen men he guessed. They didn't seem to bulky, which meant they probably only had moderately powerful armaments. Still, with those numbers and optics, he wasn't sure if they could get out of this.

"They're probably still on the roof," one of Gnorlaac's goon's said. "We should circle around and surround them from all sides, wait until they poke their filthy heads out."

"That idea's horseshit." A voice replied from the smoke. Neil chuckled to himself and slid back into the alleyway.

"Oh, horseshit is it!?"

"I agree, it sucks, we need to take the fight to them."

In less than 15 minutes, Neil, Junebug, and Saxon had managed to make it out of there while the men still debated on how best to kill the would-be escapees.

[Assistant]
"I can't tell for sure," Junebug declared as she shimmied back into concealment between the two towering buildings. On the Smugglers Moon it was impossible to tell how many stories up you were, there was no objective 'ground' by which to judge. From Sayeeda's position they appeared to be about three stories above the street across from the hangar where the Highlander was berthed.

"But there must be fifty of them out there," she concluded. The three of them were in a gap between towers that must have once held cabling or plumbing, but had rotted away to an open semi cylinder of ancient concrete. Water, or at least fluid, run off had pitted and slicked the channel, but not to the point that it was impassable. Saxon crouched beside Neil his lips pulled back into a snarl that might or might not have been contempt.

"Why do they not storm the hangar and take the ship?" Saxon spat. Junebug exchanged a look with Neil. The Pilot had a lot of explaining to be do once they were safe, but it would have to wait. The tactical situation was fairly simple, the longer the gave Gnorlac's goons to hunt for them the worse their chances of escaping became. Unfortunately charging through fifty armed men resulted in even worse odds.

"Judging by the heat signatures coming from the hangar, Taya is running the plasma motors so they cant get in," Junebug supplied. It was a smart move, burning the thrusters at low output would fill the hanger with plasma discharge at a temperature of several hundred degrees. The hangar was built to survive such abuse, but lightly armed gangsters would not fare so well. Unfortunately the Highlander didn't have fuel reserves to keep up such a trick forever. Even if the hydraulic lines were still connected, the thrusters would cut out eventually. The EM discharge was also blanking the comms.

"Let us tear our way through them!" the Hex snarled, flexing his clawed fingers menacingly. Sayeeda arched an eyebrow. It was difficult to judge if the suggestion was a serious one, or merely and expression of frustration. Gnorlac's men had certainly taken Saxon's ship already and there seemed little reason to hope they could take it back.

"We have two pistols and twelve rounds between us," Junebug pointed out. The weapons they had brought to the meet had been for emergencies, not to fight a running battle in the streets. Saxon's own weapon might have made such an attack practical, but it was hopelessly jammed and would require tools to repair.

"Also, I don't have anyway to let Taya know to cut the thrusters, also even if she did the concrete is going to be heated to several hundred degrees, more than we can stand without more battledress than we have."

"What do you suggest then?" the lizard spat.

"We need weapons, and we need to get a link to the Highlander, either laser or microwave, maybe if we could get onto the hangar roof?"

[User]
They were up shit creek without a paddle. Any other day or time, if he found himself in a similar hell as this he would let Saxon go on a rampage. But unfortunately he was too damaged and too outnumbered to really make a difference. Their normal tactics of Neil playing the distraction with well timed shots as Sayeeda mowed them down from various positions wouldn't work either. "Think..." he breathed, speaking to himself. "Think, think, think, think, think."

Saxon growled at the mere sound of his hated quarry's voice, still wondering why he doesn't simply slaughter Neil now and throw the woman to the men below. Though the sound logic of teaming up rushed in to fill the void left by his irrational anger and he calmed himself. He was nothing if not patient. He had to be in his line of work.

"-think, think, think, think, think, think, think-"

Sayeeda elbowed him in the side of the head, subsequently knocking sense into him. Neil's head snapped to the side, and as if by an electric shock, he got it. "I can fix this..." he heard, and realized it was himself talking. "I can fix this? Wait I can." He just needed to call in a favor. Maybe it would make up for the part he played in all this, though he thought it was a little too unfair to blame himself for this entire farce, but still. Always good to cover your bases.

"You two go to the roof. I'll meet you there." He said, sliding back to fall off their elevated position.

"Neil, wait! What are you...." Junebug groaned when she realized he was already gone. Her eyes met Saxon's. "Sometimes I feel like killing him too."

Neil made his way into one of the many entrances to the hanger that led out into the greater Presidium. It was a bit less crowded than earlier, probably because of the recent violence by Gnorlaac's men. He was the big boss around here, so it made sense. Still, violence was the norm so the entire market square wasn't completely devoid of life or activity. But he only needed one man's help.

Sven's bionic eye gleamed for but a moment, identifying Neil before the pilot even knew he was there.

[Assistant]
Neil felt a sudden unpleasantly familiar pressure against the small of his back. One did not forget the feeling of a gun being pressed into one's kidneys easily after all. No one in the crowd paid much attention to Sven as he stepped up behind his one time friend, concealing the weapon in the folds of his coat.

"I was just thinking I should by a jingo ticket, and well and behold a jingo ticket comes to me," Sven said placing one hand on Neils shoulder to prevent him from pulling away from the gun.

"I don't know what you assholes did to Gnorlacc, but whatever it is the bounty he put out on you is big enough for me to spend the rest of my life somewhere far better than this stinking shitpile."

With deft motions he guided Neil towards the edge of the market, where a large garage, its sign large an neon but in an unfamiliar script sat, the open maintenance bay yawning cavernously.

"If you will just step inside…"

________________________________

"You'll have to boost me," Junebug said. The roof of the hangar was thirty meters away but a story beneath them. Saxon bared his fangs at the suggestion.

"Why should I help you, more likely this is a trick so that Edwards can escape my clutches," the alien grumbled. Sayeeda placed her balled hands on her hips in exasperation.

"Oh yeah, this is all part of our master escape plan, Neil is probably on a tramp freighter out of system already." The Hex spat onto the concrete, the warm fluid sizzled slightly and Sayeeda had the unpleasant impression that the things bite might be poisonous.

"He was always weak when it came to females," Saxon rejoined, causing Sayeeda to arch an eyebrow. Whatever history Neil had with Saxon it was obviously more personal than she had imagined. Neil had told her that he had been a mech pilot in some war, he didn't really seem old enough to have been kicking around the galaxy long enough to have that sort of history. Well if she survived she supposed she could ask.

"Whatever, just boost me," she snapped, pulling open closures to loosen her leather bodysuit and gain a few extra inches of motion. The Hex glanced skeptically at the hangar roof across the street.

"You will break your bones," he said, the assessment surprisingly neutral, as though voluntarily breaking bones were something that ought be considered but not necessarily rejected. Junbug moved back up the accessway to give herself a run up.

"Only if I'm really unlucky, and besides, its not like my options look that great otherwise," she added. Saxon squatted down and made a stirrup out of his clawed hands.

"If you abandon me I will kill you as well as the pilot female," Saxon hissed, his voice filled with menace.

"If I had a credit for everytime I heard that one," Sayeeda said and sprinted down the accessway towards the hex. Just before she reached him she bounded into the air and bought her right foot down in his hands, the Hex uncoiled like an olympic shotputer and hurled her out over the street. For a moment she arched upwards on momentum before gravity reasserted itself. Spending years in speeding combat vehicles prepared you for that shocking second when the ground wasn't there. You had to keep functioning, keep thinking, or else you were going to loose your vehicle in an unexpected gully or swale. Sayeeda twisted forward as she flew, letting her head drop. The street below rushed up and for a moment she thought she wasn't going to make it. Then her hands struck the roof of the hangar and she let them fold slowly as she tucker her chin down and balled her body up. She tumbled across the ferocrete roof and slammed into one of the ventilation motors that perched atop it with a crash. The leather clothing she wore saved her from being torn to bloody rags by the stunt but the jolt she had adsorbed with her arms and wrists hurt like hell. Groggily she came to her feet waving at Saxon. It didn't sound like anyone in the street had noticed either the airborne mercenary or the sound of her abrupt return to the ground, that wasn't surprising, the steady thrum of the Highlanders plasma motors was enough to dull the senses of anyone this close.

"Now I just have to get in touch with Taya," she muttered brushing at her now ragged clothing with irritation. The heel of one of her boots had torn away in the fall. Curse this planet and everyone on it.


[System]
Appearance:
Nickname: None
Age: 28
Race: Argonian

Items and gear: Hide armor, A one-handed iron sword, a basic longbow. He also has an unenchanted circlet obtained from a dungeon. He doesn't use footwear.
Abilities: Low level spells across all schools but no necromancy. Good skills with one-handed weapons and decent skills with the bow.

Job: Adventurer and hunter. He occasionally fights bandits and kills off dangerous animals when the pay is slow.
Bio: Hailing from Black Marsh, Ardashir was accused of having sympathies for the Dunmer when the argonian advance on Morrowind was halted by House Redoran. He fled the Argonia to avoid political repercussions and took the first boat out of the province, which happened to be heading to Windhelm. Finding no life worth living at the Argonian Assemblage, he headed south and settled in Riverwood, where the locals were suspicious at first but have since come around to tolerating him.

Other:

Here are his claws, taken from a Skyrim mod.

[User] Valrona looked around at what was left of the great city of Helgen. The dragon had basically destroyed the poor town to the ground. That was about a week ago. She looked around as she nailed up another board down on the floor of her shop. She was to be soon finished repairing her shop back to working order. Yang walked up to her licking her cheek making her smile. "Good girl." She said smiling. Yang was her best friend and a damn good hunter. As she finished with the floor, she stood up and opened her shop door to look around the town square. She wondered what everyone else was doing to fix up the place. She knew that once more of the place was secure, she would gather people up to probably go on a quest. She hoped it would be sooner or later. She could feel herself starting to go stir crazy. Yang sat down in front of her looking around and sniffing the air. Yang has been a bit shook up ever since the attack. Valrona ran her hands in between her ears to help her relax.

[Assistant] Wolfgang Vestenheimer paid the builders from Falkreath the final amount of money that was owed for the construction of the new headquarters for his new holy order, which he made a mental note that he still needed to come up with a name for. Wolfgang turned to gaze at the building, it was a wood and stone building that was small compared to the churches in the main holds of skyrim or the monasteries of cyrodiil, but it was nonetheless an impressive sight considering what it was and also not to mention in comparison to the rather decimated landscape left by the dragon Alduin. Wolfgang pulled a silver flask off his belt and sprinkled some holy water around the outsides and as well as inside the building, ensuring its divine protection from the Gods.

[User]
The smell of freshly cut wood hit Ardashir's nostrils a moment before he saw a nordic lumberjack bring his axe down on another piece of wood. The argonian had just scored a kill in the woods of Falkreath and was on his way back to Helgen. The town which had been destroyed by Alduin was still recovering, the rebuilding going slowly as a result of the civil war and dragon attacks. It was good to see new construction, especially when it came to buildings which might attract pilgrims and other visitors. The more traffic Helgen got, the faster it would recover.

Careful not to step on any of the splinters which littered the ground, Ardashir carefully made his way past the holy site under construction. While some Argonians in this land used footwear, his tribe never bothered with it. Then again, this wasn't Black Marsh. The often-cold weather sometimes made him regret coming here, but he knew that he had no choice. It was warm enough for now, and he had to get this deer sold for its meat and hide. Then, he might have enough coins for an extra drink tonight, preferably by the fireplace of the town's inn.

[Assistant]
A week ago the dragon Alduin attacked Helgen, bringing death and destruction. The news of the return of the dragonkind, previously held to be fantasy creatures in tales, rippled swiftly through Skyrim. Felix, a young novice adventurer, packed his belongings and left Riverwood for Helgen immediately upon learning the event. The journey proved far more time-consuming than it should have been, with bandits, wolves and the temptation of treasure from caves dragging Felix behind.

When he finally arrived he found Helgen feebly recovering from the catastrophe, with the townspeople busy rebuilding their homes and shops. A female elf opened the door of a shop, which appeared to be an average general store just repaired. Felix decided to give it a try. He needed information, friends, materials, food and rest.

"Hi. Is this your shop?" He couldn't think of any novel way of starting a conversation, thus the dull question for the elf.

[User]
Casimer Demetrius-Kahn - Helgen

His exhaustion hung in the air, forming anew with each coughed up breath.

Perspiration clung to his skin despite the bitter chill; the stench permeated the air. But his swollen muscles still strained themselves to retrace the same arc, commencing each revision with a huff and ending with the distinct clatter of metal on metal. Too proud to have asked for help, his entire frame heaved with exertion at completion; tired hands dropped the hammer he'd guided with expert precision. He took a careful step back across the length of wood he stood on and examined his handiwork: it was a start. Having spent the largest part of the week since the attack re-establishing the wooden beams that had, at one stage, supported the non-existent roofing, he moved to reinforcing the construction with steel:

Whilst not an intended part of the initial design, Casimer had decided the times demanded it nonetheless. His house - no, his home - for the last quarter of a century had been decimated in the attack: the roof had collapsed beneath the intense weight of the beast, and with that the first floor had been wrecked; the interior, otherwise, had been gutted with fire. The walls, thank the gods, had been saved the devastation he had witnessed enacted on other buildings.

With slow, purposeful, painful movements, he descendant the ladder he had established to the ground floor. Beneath his feet was the entrance to his former basement-cum-storeroom, now basement-cum-storeroom-cum-entire living area; entrance covered with a reinforced steel trapdoor, as to deter thieves during a time when he had an actual business, it had been left unaffected by the attack. It was his home now - it had to be, or he would be left to sleep in the open air. But he stepped across that space, and to the door; drained beyond the capabilities to think, mind disorientated and lacking focus, he huffed down the fresh, Northern air, with the same sort of enthusiasm he might have afforded to a breath that was his last.

[Assistant] Cedus finished the last blade he'd need to sell to a store. It was a dagger, a beautiful thing. He would probably charge less than it was worth. His whole goal was to help the town. As soon as he got here, he'd found an anvil and got to work. Cedus admired the dagger before placing it in his pack. Satisfied, he walked into the inn and bought a night's stay.

[User] Jo'marash was walking through the woods on his way back to Helgen. He had been searching for new ingredients and was now on his way home to see what he could do with them. As he entered the gates he saw the beginnings of a new Helgen. He could hear to tools of the workers and the hammer of the blacksmith. A warrior from Cyrodil had built a big stone building and a local wood elf had opened a general store, and then he came to his own shop. A small wooden building that was far from finished, he didn't have the time to build it himself and he didn't have the coin to hire someone to do it for him. When he entered he was met by the pleasant (at least to him) smell of Khajiit cooking. He sat down at the table and started browsing through his books looking for info on the ingredients he had found.

[Assistant] Corinth whistles a tune as he heads into Helgen. He looks around and finds a spot perfect for farming. Setting down the handles of the wagon he drops his sack and starts rummaging through it. "I have that deed here somewhere... Aha! There it is." He pulls out a paper and reads it again. "One property deed for Helgen.. So long as we man guard house and make a farm... I can do that easily. Made them back home..." Putting the paper away, Corinth takes his greataxe and straps it to his back, then heads off to look at the inn to get some information on the newly rebuilding town.

[User] Valrona smiled as a male Nord walked up to her asking if this was her store. "Yes. Welcome to the Helgen General Store. Come on in. I am sure I have what you are looking for." She said as Yang sniffed him wagging her tail. "My name is Valrona and this is Yang." She said as she held the door open for him to show him the supplies she had. Along the walls there was shelves with different types of food, books, small weapons, arrows, and pretty much anything else someone could need.

[Assistant] Helena swept rubble off the porch of the mostly rebuilt Helgen Inn. The rooms were rebuilt, except a few holes that needed patching up. The ground had many burn marks and cracks. Other than these imperfections she was open and ready for business. A room was cheap, but she warned wanderers that her prices would go up when the city was rebuilt. People walking around the slightly repaired Helgen brought a smile to her face as she swept.

[User] Corinth walks up the woman in front of the inn. "Hello there, friend. I have been sent by Jarl Balgruff to aid in protection of the town. I was wondering what you could tell me of the place." He smiles, giving a wave. "The name is Corinth. Corinth Frozen-Hammer."

[Assistant]
Ardashir got a good price for the stag he had brought down, and sure enough, had sufficient coin to spare for an extra round at the inn. He went there, careful with his tail as he negotiated his way through the crowd. He smiled slightly, happy that Helgen once again had crowds at all.

He entered the inn and looked around, seeing if there was anyone he recognized.

[User]
"Hello, Corinth, my name is Helena and I own this inn," Helena introduced. She let the broom lean against the wall and held out her hand for a handshake. "This is Helgen. It was attacked by a dragon a week ago, during an execution. A group of us has gotten together to help rebuild the city to its former glory." She saw a new customer enter and decided it would be a good time to reenter the inn. "If you need a place to stay, my inn is very affordable, especially in the current conditions. Once the city is rebuilt, the prices will rise some, but rooms are a steal now." With that, Helena went back in to Her inn.

Helena found Ardashir and smiled at him, remembering him from his earlier rounds. "Sorry, we just have the basic ales for now," she reminded him, now standing behind the counter. As far as food went, the prices were about the same as any other inn.

[Assistant]
"Alright, Helen. Just one basic ale." He sighed, setting the coins down. Whiterun had a supply of fine argonian ale, but that was quite a walk from Helgen. He wasn't a fan of the roads in Skyrim. Too cold and hard on his scales. Not nearly warm, soft, or wet enough. Still, he gave a smile as she set the drink down on the counter.

"Thanks." He took a sip of the drink, and looked around the inn, hoping to find some new faces. His hunting could only take him so far. There were several ruins nearby, and he wanted to see what could be found in them.

[User] "No problem," Helena said and took the gold. She put it into a pouch attached to get waist, very close to the concealed dagger. Everything was running smoothly. The Helgen Inn currently only had six operating rooms, not all occupied, but the travellers that came through supplied good gold, even though she didn't have too much to offer. Many people wanted to see the damage the dragon had caused, so it was a good tourist attraction.

[Assistant] Several of the guests gave Ardashir a dirty look. Part of it was bias against argonians, but he had a feeling that it was partially to do with fear of dragons. The physical resemblance between the two races was likely coincidental; the dov were believed to be a race of fallen aedra while argonians were probably descendants of lizards who had ingested hist sap. A few nords looked like they would give him a hard time, but seeing as he was armed with a dagger and possessed claws, they thought better of it. The jarl of Falkreath Hold wasn't too keen on having so many outsiders move to Helgen, but the town had to be repopulated somehow.


[System]
* Gender: If "Girl Queen of Darkness" didn't give it away... she's definitely a girl.
* Appearance: She might only be 4'3, but looks can be deceiving.
* Personality: As all those ominous names might suggest, Evangeline has an attitude of an unrepentant villain, evil to the core and completely irredeemable... well, so she insists, even comparing herself to RPG bosses. The truth is that, although she's cynical and has a sadistic streak, she's actually one of the relatively good guys--though not prone to altruism, given where it got her in life. Mostly, she's quite happy to keep to herself and watch how things develop. If you don't mind dealing with someone that often acts her real age and embraces her sarcastic streak quite fervently, Evangeline isn't too bad to be around.
* Brief History: Born sometime during the Hundred Years War, for the first nine years of her life, Evangeline lived about as good a life as most could hope--a member of the nobility, wealthy... and of course that all changed on her tenth birthday, as she was turned into a vampire. She found this out rather unpleasantly, since she woke up to find her entire family dead at, presumably, her hands. Her life as a vampire was off to a bad start and it only ended up getting worse once, somewhat altruistically, she killed some wizards who were controlling a town.
This turned out to be a bad idea, since they had families and friends that wanted to seek revenge. Now, normally, a person would die and that would be the end of it--but Evangeline was too strong and they died as well. Cue more people and a growing reputation as an evil monster that nonetheless encouraged more people to seek her end, until eventually the entire magical community came to see her as a boogeyman of sorts. This apparently was no barrier to travelling the world, since she not only built a castle in Africa but travelled to Japan and learned Aikido from its creator.
Then she managed to get a crush on completely the wrong person: not only one of the few people in the world that could put up a fight against her, he happened to be married anyway, and wasn't terribly into having this strange blonde following him around everywhere. In the end, a fight and some trickery allowed him to win... and seal Evangeline in, of all things, a school by using a curse meant to stop truancy. This would have been less problematic for her if the school didn't also have barriers against, say, vampires that lead to her generally having no more abilities than your average ten year old. Of course, the fact that the person who cursed her simply disappeared at one point meant she couldn't get out...
... until over fifteen years later his son arrived to be a teacher. After trying to drain him of blood to get out of the place, she somehow ended up becoming his master in order to teach him how to actually fight, and helped a lot of her classmates to do the same as well. Her involvement was generally indirect in his achievements, however, aside from the one situation involving a certain demon god. But at least she's free now...
Only to have ended up in this world, which has so little magic (of her type) that she can't utilise anything more than a complete novice's spells. Fortunately, her vampire abilities are unrelated and simply tiring, so they are still at full strength due to the lack of an oppressive barrier.
* Universe of Origin: Mahou Sensei Negima (also technically UQ Holder, but aside from some backstory details, that isn't relevant here)
* Equipment: Evangeline has an iron fan and... that's about it. Really, this is quite inconvenient for her; at least if she can get her hands on a lot of wire she can start doing puppetry again.
* Abilities: If the world had more magic, it would be quite easy for Evangeline to demonstrate why she has such a terrifying reputation. Not content with having mastered the ice and dark magic she has an affinity for, she's shown to have personal knowledge and an ability to use lightning and wind, or even create her own ice-and-lightning spells; quite likely, with her age and talents she could utilise almost any type of magic if she had a strong desire to. And where those spells aren't powerful enough, she made the dark art of Magia Erebea--essentially, absorbing your own spell for a strength boost, though nobody with a human soul can safely do this and remain human. Unfortunately for her, the rate at which she recharges is so pitifully low that there's almost no chance of being able to use the majority of these spells--she at least retains the ability to cast flight spells, not needing to rely on broomsticks or such fanciful things. The air makes quite a good seat for drinking whilst watching festivities.
It's fortunate for the world that she doesn't have these, as even demon gods are trivial obstacles, and she devised a spell specifically to incapacitate enemies that are too difficult to harm magically.
No, what Evangeline retains full access to is her lifetime of combat ability and the simple act of being a vampire. She might seem like a doll-like ten year old, but her speed and strength is inhuman--lending itself remarkably well to her default combat approach being simply brawling with a lot of experience. Those with equal abilities and weapons certainly have an advantage over her in melee, however, as her only weapon is still more suited to a battle of martial arts. Nor does being able to teleport through shadows particularly assist within a fight.
The real ability, as a vampire, that allows her to fight without magic against someone properly armed is quite simple: there is essentially nothing, short of disintegrating her entirely, that will actually kill her. Wounds heal almost immediately and simply dissolving into bats and reforming can do it even faster--though both are tiring, to a vampire on her level (amusingly noted as true ancestor), it's not too problematic. Dismemberment is a more effective method of fighting her as she needs to go reattach the other body parts. And, well, she's got no magical barriers to toughen herself up nor the magic to do anything about most forms of imprisonment, so going for knocking her out or restricting Evangeline's movement is actually a remarkably efficient means of dealing with her.
Inflicting lasting damage is just rather pointless.
* Other: As her titles indicate, the sun doesn't do anything to her beyond the fact that she is naturally pale anyway and thus burns easily. On top of that, her other weaknesses seem to include an allergy to garlics and leek, and a total inability to swim despite her age. She can also regain magical energy via drinking blood, but the general population here is hardly any more effective than the world itself...

[User]
Emilio Michaelov

Tokyo Tower

"Hngn. Where am I? Something is wrong..." He watched the city of Tokyo from the top of the Tokyo tower, and how lively it was with all the cars driving below. Something about how peaceful it seemed bothered him.

"Is this really New York? No. Does not look like it." Emilio furrowed his eyebrows and then offered a smile as his spectral wings manifested and he leapt from the building and he began to take flight from there down towards a lower located building where he could inspect things abit closer. The building just below the tower held a sign.

"Tokyo...tower? That's right! This is then Japan? So where to go now? Heh.. Let's go and see what can be found."

Alberich

Forest north of Three Palace Sanctuaries

"What is this place? What's going on? This is not my homeland Asgard." Alberich stopped in his tracks to take some glances around, all around him were trees and none of them were snow filled. Not even the ground was covered in snow.

"Has Shiryu been able to deceive me? No this is not him. Another saint?" Alberich closed his eyes and placed his sword in front of him trying to reach out and feel any nearby cosmos. His eyes flung open. He couldn't feel anyone at all. How could this be possible? Alberich took his left hand before his mouth and pondered on other possiblities.

"Have I been sent to another dimension? A bronze saint would not be strong enough to- That means there must have been a gold saint which-" Alberich tightened his hands, one tightening around the grip of his crystal-like blade.

"You dare deceive me! I am a god warrior!" Alberich began to run forth, taking a leap up on a branch of a nearby tree, sighting a building in the distance. You will pay dearly for this... Saints of Athena. I will collect all the Odin Sapphires and defeat Hilda with the Balmung sword... then all shall bow to me in worship.

Menomaru

Gate of Daitokuin Mausoleum

Menomaru looked around himself in some confusion. "Hari. Ruri." His calls for his servants were not answered.

Tch... What has happened here? Where is the remains of the great Hyoga...? Menomaru thought to himself then began to command forth his moths and surrounding himself in them, before sending them out to spy for him.

"Find the remains of the great Hyoga. Find me the fang of destruction. Find out where we are." The moths began to scatter and fly off in all manner of directions. Some carried slightly away by the wind.

[Assistant]
— Yoyogi Park, Shibuya —

A lurid tear opened in the air leaking the silver fires of chaos. Out of the rent tumbled a figure that flailed in the air momentarily before impacting a body of water.

It remained still for several heartbeats as the scar in the air slowly sealed itself shut without a trace. Then it stirred, lifting itself up onto hands and knees, head just above the water.

"Ugh... Mael's Spit."

Quick Ben pushed himself back to sit in the water than only rose to midway up his chest. This wasn't a familiar location, which wasn't exactly unusual for him. Something had obviously gone wrong and the air still stank of chaos. It would be a while before he attempted to travel by warren again.

The mage stood up, dripping water as he made his way out of what turned out to be a small pond and onto shore. He stepped over a rope barrier as people on the path stared. Not wanting the attention he called upon shadow and vanished from sight as he entered the treeline and headed east.

At least that one worked properly. Now he needed to find a place to have a drink and find out where he was.

[User]
Evangeline A. K. McDowell - Tokyo

It was your everyday sort of park, one that you could envision being full of children under slightly different circumstances. Instead, the swings Sat empty, disturbed only by a slight breeze. An artist might have considered the setting a perfect view to capture childhood nostalgia, the park the best subject now as there was nobody to ruin the view.

The illusory artist would have been sadly frustrated by the sudden and unexpected arrival of a blonde figure. The decidedly voluptuous figure climbed to her feet, already running down a mental lost to see who could possibly have forcibly summoned her anywhere. This was the real Evangeline, not some scroll-bound construct, which left a list consisting of...

Nobody. The only person with such capabilities had been dealt with for now. She was the strongest, undefeated magician of evil. But someone had pulled off this feat... but at least she was still in Japan, things hadn't changed so drastically.

Evangeline wasn't alone for long with her thoughts. Two other figures, a seemingly overdressed child and... a knight in armour? If anything, that would imply that somehow residents of the Magical World had been pulled here, if the armour was any indication.

And wasn't that more disturbing?


[System]
Nickname: The Protegé, Gentleman the Eighth

Age: 17

School Year: Third

Gender: Male

Appearance:

Nationality: Has passports for both England and Australia

Personality: Miles has had the brute knocked out of him. He is a gentleman, trained by one of The Gentleman in putting others first and treating them with respect. He lives by his teacher's words "Respect is not something to be earned, but to be lost". Underneath the charming gentleman, beneath years of conditioning and etiquette training is a self-confident and egotistical person who after many near death scenarios has been left slightly deluded about the durability of the human body.

Bio: Miles wasn't always called that, but he has long since forgotten his old name, however his story is easy to tell.

Most kids dream of joining the circus, Miles was born in one. He was home-schooled, trained as an acrobat and enjoyed an otherwise normal home life. His parents claimed that they were descended from some royalty from a country that no longer exists, but Miles didn't really care about that. When he turned 13 his happy home life was ruined.

When touring England after a particularly unsuccessful show a drunken crowd tried to get their money back. When they couldn't they came back at night and set fire to the tent. That in itself wasn't particularly an issue, however Miles reacted violently and the police report said that for no reason the wild child head butted the ringleader of the group, straddled the man and punched him in the face until he was unrecognisable, the man later dying on the way to the hospital.

Fearing for their son Miles' parents gave him all the money they could afford, gave him a change of clothes and told him to run. Run he did, eventually losing himself in London's busy streets. Months passed and Miles had started earning his way through excessive force.

One day he followed a rich looking man and reached for his throat, the man span on the spot grabbed Miles' hand and asked "How many have you killed?" surprised, Miles fought against this man using the wall as a stepping stone to try and get behind him. The man however just threw Miles' to the ground and then tied Miles' hands up with a business tie. "How. Many?" was asked again more forcefully and Miles told him, he honestly didn't know, but they all made it to the ambulance. "Well, I suppose I better get deal with you then... I'm probably going to regret this" and then with a sigh the man took Miles to his house and trained him, turning a circus born street rat into an upstanding gentleman of the highest order.

Miles reacted violently to the teaching at first, but soon learned the futility of resistance as the man was able to subdue him with little effort. With the acceptance of the situation the man started teaching in a more considerate manner "You already know how to kill, I don't need to teach you that. What I'm going to teach you is how to not kill."
And so each day Miles was taught restraint, etiquette and how to be the very model of a gentleman assassin, which really meant was how to act unsurprised by anything, treat the target like they are the most important person on earth until you kill them and how to kill them while being dapper.

One lesson was at a dinner party where he was told to kill the host without leaving his seat. Miles was sat down at the far end of the table and placed a napkin on his lap. As the meal progressed Miles had to restrain himself, stop himself from just running across the table and snapping the man's neck, but he was told to never leave his chair and to wait until dessert to give the man his last meal.

When dessert came Miles waited until the target started eating before taking the fondue fork and throwing it through the target's eye, piercing the brain. Standing up, Miles took a tulip from a nearby vase and put it in the dead man's hands. Then the other members of the table turned to Miles and congratulated him on his precise throw and his courtesy to let the target have some dessert as well. It turned out that everyone at the table except the target were also considered 'Gentlemen Assassins' and although the target was real; it had all been a test of his manners more than his ability to kill.

On the last day he ever saw what he had come to think of as another father he was given a plane ticket, a passport with his new name, the location of Riddle Academy and instructions to go there and "Integrate back into society, become a good man. You're now the eighth in line, make me proud."

Weapon: Miles primarily uses a silenced Walther PPK to assassinate, but will always resort to using his hands when pressed at close range.

Equipment: A small pack of sugar-free gum, keeps a steel plate in his breast pocket which has deflected many a bullet to his heart, usually carries a bouquet of flowers that he will hand out a flower of to all the lovely ladies that he passes

Skills:

Impeccable Manners – first and foremost, Miles is a gentleman. He will hold the door open for a lady and will treat everyone with respect.

Acrobatics – not commonly shown since it doesn't fit with his gentleman training, but Miles can flip and tumble with the best of them.

Hand-to-hand combat – Miles was a natural born killer that was taught restraint and to have surgical precision when taking out a target, using only as much force as required

Improvised Weaponry – Miles was taught that it was uncouth to carry around too many weapons, but a mistake to not be prepared. So Miles is as likely to use his gun as a fork, a frypan, chair or car. He'll use whatever happens to be close at hand.

Cleaning – when he makes a mess Miles will be sure to clean up after himself, or others... or anyone really

Ballroom Dancing – a bit old fashioned, but so was his master

Violin - Miles was taught classical violin, mainly because he can hide lots of weapons in the case if needed and actually play the instrument on demand as a cover

Value Judgement – the clothes make the man and Miles knows how to value any piece of apparel

Devilish Temper – not really a skill, but as a side-effect of his conditioning Miles has been left with instincts he long since wish he had suppressed. As his clothes become damaged his demeanour starts to crumble, and Mile's hand-to-hand combat skill becomes far more unorthodox and incorporates his acrobatic skills more fully, as if the clothes maketh the man was almost literal with him. The end result is closer to a serial killer than an assassin, attacking from any angle and with anything he can find

Other:

[User]
By the time Minako and Miles had walked off into the short girl's dorm room, Donna had already thought of several different and descriptive ways in which to murder them both. Of course, as her fellow third year student, she'd go easy on Miles. Maybe only have him conscious while she ripped his guts through his face with her teeth as opposed to something else. Minako on the other hand would pay dearly...

"Oh ho, well isn't this new," the shark-toothed girl muttered to herself. "Heh, been a while since I felt something like this. Don't tell me Calamari is actually making me jealous…maybe I can ask mom about it later. Oh well. Boss needs me, oh ho!"

Checking the reports between Kaede and Izumi, Donna saw that she was required in the nurse's office. The dummy had gotten herself killed, leaving the infirmary in a state of mass panic and hysteria. Or something like that. Shaking her head, the sharp-teethed girl was there in a blur, noting the corpse of the poor nurse. Changing back into her own outfit, she snickered as the chaos continued to ensue. Oh well. More traffic control for her.

She did notice the boss' little sister and her friends though. Apparently the shy one had a personality change and was performing what looked to amount to surgery on the mummy. It really wasn't Donna's business to meddle, and if Rei was the Head Director's sister, there was no doubt that she'd just chew her out for "helping". So for now, Donna ignored them.

It was a good thing too because then Donna would have to see the grimace on Rei's face. While she didn't particularly like Sayaka-at least not her pervy nature-she couldn't help but cringe as the mummified girl began to scream and holler as Addie unwrapped her bandages. She was even about to step in and suggest Addie try a different method of…whatever she was trying to do.

Then Sayaka mentioned the desire to see both her and her sister in the nude. Rei's eye twitched as all sympathy for the now revealed and pale girl evaporated. With a dark look, she moved aside and motioned for Addie to do her thing. Whatever it was she was doing.

"Go ahead Addie-san. I'm sure you can make her feel just right again," she said with venomous sarcasm, not really caring now that Sayaka had apparently fainted. That's when the PA began to go off and Rei looked up. She raised an eye at this…interesting new message spoken by the Head Director.

---

Attention students of Riddle Academy. Due to recent events, we have a new teacher who will be joining us this semester. Please welcome with warm regards Kanzaki Itsuko as one of your new sensei.

---

What? Who the hell was Kanzaki Itsuko?

[Assistant]
Right as Addie began to take off Sayaka's bandages she started to slowly twitch back to life, and when Addie revealed Sayaka's pale gut, Sayaka snapped awake and started to panic and scream while Addie tried to unravel her bandages, Sayaka felt a burning feeling on her pale skin, it felt like someone took a giant lighter to her skin or soaked her in kerosene for a couple days and just lit her up with a lighter, Sayaka could hear Rei and Addie, she kicked and flailed her arms around feeling the worst pain imaginable.

" STOP ! Put them back on me, put them on me, it burns ! IT Burns ! Put the Bandages on ! Put them on ! NOW !" Sayaka screamed to the top of her lungd at the two of them like she was about to die from pain, she tried to reach for more bandages as Addie put more bandages on her and Sayaka kicked at Addie but didn't hit her, just trying to scare her." Don't touch my bandages again, don't they are my skin on top of my skin and keep my wounds from burning me alive and killing me. I need them to stay alive." Sayaka told Addie feeling angry at her for taking off her bandages and revealing her skin to the air.

[User]
Kyoko Akera

@liferusher

Kyoko had noticed that the katana-wielding girl had addressed Kyoko as senpai, well she was a third year so that would make the most sense, and the girl who addressed her kind of looked a little young in the first place. Then hell came, Kaede came rushing down the hall towards Kyoko, which would mean that her booze is going to be taken away! Kyoko grit her teeth as she was prepared to run, she wouldn't let this black class student take away her only means of delight. But in the end, she was too drunk to run, let alone even walk. Kyoko then looked up to Kaede who had been talking to her, maybe she could sweet-talk her way out of it, or maybe even blackmail her?

But to be honest, she had to material to blackmail Kaede about, and besides she was just way too drunk in the first place. She was kind of hoping that Kaede would not find her hidden booze, but she managed to, sending Kyoko into a swing of emotions, most of them being incredibly sad and angry. And besides, she is going to be taken to the head director, she knew that she was going to get the shit kicked out of her. But, she could be given a bath by the cute girl, which made Kyoko grin slightly.

This truly was the opposite of the regular and sober Kyoko, she would have been so calm and collected, she wouldn't even flirt with anybody in the first place. Kyoko stumbled up off of the ground, saddened that her booze was taken away from her.
"C'mon... I need that..." Kyoko slurred her speech, reaching for the booze but her arm swinging the opposite way from it. She could pass out just about any second now, but she would like to do it after her glorious bath.

[Assistant]
Miles smiled as Minako was happy to have him stay over for the night. "Very well little sister, I'll just go and get my things and some medicine, just in case alright?" with a soft kiss on her forehead and a pat on her head Miles reluctantly let go of the soft little hand still holding his he left, gently shutting the door behind him. This onii-chan stuff seems fairly straightforward.

His footsteps echoing through the silent halls Miles' demeanour was different than a lot of the younger students who joined this Academy. Being strong in his gentleman ideals he felt there was no reason he should ever have to hide or ambush from around a corner, since he believed no such attack could outright kill him. Reaching the front desk, Miles let himself in, searching for his luggage that he had left since in previous years things have been known to go missing during the introduction ceremony.

Finding his things all in order, Miles carried his bags and made his way to the infirmary to get some common cold medicine. As he approached he heard un-earthly screams and pleas echo through the corridor. Is the nurse using a bone-saw? She has a bone-saw?! Oh I hope so! They are so useful and so very persuasive~

With a light knock on the open door to announce his presence Miles took a quick survey of the room and saw a young girl completely bandaged "Hello there, sorry to interrupt I'm just here for some... cold... medicine..." Miles had just noticed Donna in the nurse's outfit, surprisingly not covered in blood. Coughing to clear his throat and hide the slight reddening of his cheeks Miles recomposed himself and grinned
"Donna! How good to see you! Or should I say 'Helloooo Nurse'? Hmm, sorry, bad joke on my part relating to an old cartoon, it was in poor taste" entering the infirmary proper he politely bowed to each of the other young ladies in the room before turning back to Donna,
"I did not expect for us to bump into each other again today, and with you in such a fetching outfit! I'm just here for some cold medicine and maybe some painkillers if any are left after the cacophony of screams." Seeing the bandaged young lady Miles could only imagine what Donna did to her.
"Pardon the rudeness, but were you the causes of those screams? Scaring the young-blood with a bone-saw perhaps...?" an odd hopeful tone crept into his voice as he asked about the bone-saw, nearing on excitement at the idea that the school had a bone-saw.