[System]
"In my experience, I've found that the men who start wars are rarely the ones who fight them."
Theme Song: N/A | Font Color: White | Experiment No. 205

Gender: Male
Age: 19
Date of Birth: May 2, 1998

Physical Appearance:
Khari has dark skin and black, shoulder length hair styled in dreadlocks. His eyes are chocolate brown, and show signs of his aging beyond his years. Khari carries himself like he's already old, harden from years of battles he should have never had to fight. He is covered in scars, some old, some new. Khari is fairly large; he stands at 6 six feet even, and is well muscled.

Personality:
Khari has a serious nature, and always has. Having been deprived of his childhood, one could say that he has always been an adult. He is intelligent, stern, and tends to be the level headed man of any group. He tends to be more on quiet side, only chiming in when its actually needed. Having been on the outside longer than most other experiments, he's often asked what the real world is like. Khari has never answered such questions, as he feels his personal experience isn't one to go by.

The only good thing to come out of the School was the actual schooling. Khari was given a chance to receive an education that he'd never been given before. When it comes to his schoolwork, he is very studious. He takes it seriously and will stay up studying for tests as if his life depends on it. The way he figures, if he ever gets out, it very well may.

Strengths:
Khari is best known for his fighting skills, weaponry skills, and physical strength. When the school targeted orphanages in third world, warring countries, picking out former child soldiers was no accident. They were young enough to remodel into their hybrids, but still trained and often willing to kill. They made excellent erasers and super soldiers, as many would unquestioningly obey commands as they had been taught to their whole lives. Khari was lucky enough to have one more strength: His mind. He is very intelligent and independent, even if he never got a chance to show it before.

Weaknesses:
One can imagine that growing up on a battlefield leaves one with a lot of scars; not all of those scars can be seen. Khari will likely never completely get over the trauma he endured. Some nights it keeps him up, others, it wakes him out of his sleep. He tends to be on the cynical side, though one can hardly blame him. Khari takes anxiety medicine at the School to ensure that he doesn't experience panic attacks. This is one of the reasons he hasn't been sold off as a soldier or turned into an eraser.

Mutant Powers:
Can't think of anything right now. Might add one later.

Wing Appearance:
Tri-colored raptor wings that stretch out to 16 feet tip to tip. They are very flexible, folding up neatly along his back to make him almost unnoticeable under normal clothing. Khari was lucky to come along later in the game, when the white coats had worked the kinks out of graphing wings onto already existing subjects. While not quite as good as those who are born with them, he a surprisingly agile flyer.

Background Story:

It's not something Khari likes talking about, but he will if coaxed. He was born in a small village in West Africa, in a country plagued by the war. Their village was protected by government troops, until the troops fell and the rebel militia took over. It was a dark time: men and young boys were seized, forced to join the rebel troops, women were abused and killed. Khari was only four when it began, and six when the government finally came and fought the rebels off. The village thought they were saved. They weren't.

Most of the villagers had already fled during the take over, and the government troops assumed whoever remained were aligned with the rebels. The massacre began. Khari's mother told him to run as fast and far as he could, and never to look back. He can only assume she was killed.

Khari escaped into the countryside and lived off the land for a little while. He wasn't happy, but he wasn't particularly unhappy either. He figured he'd live that way forever, until he came across a rebel military faction. They captured him and forced him into the ranks of their mercenary battalion; at age six, Khari became a child soldier.

The next two years passed in a blur. The battalion took towns, ambushed troops, killed mercilessly and indiscriminately. Khari learned to shoot a gun as easy as one drinks water. The absentminded killing is something that still haunted Khari to this day. How could he have ever been capable of such things?

Khari was ten when government troops captured his battalion. The adults were detained, and the children were sent to a missionary orphanage. The facilities left something to be desired, food was scarce, and the beds were rickety and lumpy, but it was leaps and bounds better than where he had been. Khari was unlikely to ever be adopted. But, by some miracle, a very wealthy American man came by to meet him, and adopted him that very same day.

He later found out that this wasn't so lucky. The man was a recruiter for the school, and collecting kids from orphanages across the world was what he did for a living. Khari got to the school and the experiments began. The rest can go without saying.

[User]
Phoenix perked up when he heard footsteps. He smirked as three new white coats rounded the corner and stopped when they saw the first ones laying on the ground, unconscious. The small of melted plastic, burned flesh and denim reached Phoenix's nose. Two of the newcomers were a male and the third was a female. The female and one other male were ones he had not seen before, and he tilted his head in thought.

Dr. Freemen, the only whitecoat he knew, gave him a withering stare. Nix returned it with a cruel, unsettling smile.

"Phoenix," Freemen was obviously ticked. "How many times are you going to hurt us when we only want to help you?"

"Help me?" Nix snorted. "If what ye do is helping me, then I'd hate tae see what harming me looks like." He shuffled his wings, causing the flaming tips of his feathers to flicker. His hands began to steam once more as a clear warning, though his skin never turned red.

His body temp was four degrees above average so it wasn't really a surprise to anyone who might have read his file. Nix spat an Irish slur at them, then studied them with cold, green blue eyes. He held nothing but contempt and hate for the whitecoats so they never saw the kindness in his heart.

[Assistant]
The steps grew closer. They were pause every now and again. But only for a brief moment. No words were exchanged. The only thing Crow would hear is the woman letting out a huff of disappointed before moving on. As Crow's body began to tense even more his mind started to draw a blank. Everything went into a haze. With his current condition and his nerves going on high alert was putting strain on his body. He blacked out for a short few seconds. All the while he missed the conversation between the whitecoats and one of the experiments.

When things started to come in view again the whitecoats were now standing before his cell. Dr. Freemen was looking at his watch. The expression on his face made it evident it had forgotten the two hour feeding deadline. Especially with everything that has been going on the last couple of days.

"It looks as though this one was put through a blender." The unfamiliar male whitecoat blurted out. "No wonder you guys loose more subjects each week compared to anywhere else." He continued giving Dr. Freemen a serious expression. A shiver ran down Crow's spine sensing the murderous intent behind that stare. Dr. Freemen stumbled sideways holding his clipboard up in defense.

"Now, now Morgan." The woman started to say unfazed. "This is Dr. Freemen's workshop and we are his guest. No need for the death glares." She said reaching out to adjust his crooked tie. Then patting the man on the cheek. Crow managed to raise an eyebrow trying to decide what kind of relationship these two have. Turning around the woman swiped a key card. A quiet buzzer sounded off as the door began to slide open. The woman entered without hesitating.

Crow wanted to move away the closer she approached. This woman gave off a scarier vibe than that Morgan fellow. But his body refused to listen to him. All he could manage was a cold stare. Trying to tell the woman he wasn't in the mood for company. And yet she proceeded to knell down next to him ignoring his attempt. She studied him with her eyes. Scanning from top to bottom. Crow was feeling violated somehow. She then grabbed hold of his chin lifting it upward slightly to peer into his eyes. Crow eyes were somehow fixated onto hers. To him it was a wolf thing. Instinct told him she was an alpha. Challenging an alpha is something his body naturally does.

Though this woman looked weak in a woman standards her grip on his chin was strong. Almost as if she didn't want to pull away from her. "Tell me Dr. Freemen, this boy what exactly is he?" She asked without looking away.

Dr. Freemen cleared his throat as if the explanation was going to a long one. "He is an hybrid. He is a failed and as well as successful test subject. He was part of project E-589. We thought we made a break through him but there is one minor set back. Which is something we have yet to fix. His metabolism levels are extremely high. If he doesn't eat something every two hours his body begins to shut down. Almost like someone with a sever case of diabetes but that is only a comparison. We consider that part of him a failure." Dr. Freemen paused a few seconds to catch his breath. Then he entered the cell Avoiding bumping into Morgan. "Now for the successful part." As he said this he reached down to grab hold of Crow's shift. Lifting it up to reveal his battered wings.

The woman hardly flinched. She remained quiet but would tilted her head slightly when familiar terms and phrases entered her mind.

"The only difference between him and the other avian experiments is his bone density. It is still similar to ours but tougher. Allowing him to take a few hits without them shattering. The only draw back is the fact his flight time is reduced in half." Dr. Freemen finished off. Releasing the shirt. Then returning back to his place outside of he cell.

"I see. Very interesting." The woman said intrigued. A small smile crept onto his face as she let go of Crow's chin. "I'll take him." She said standing back to her feet. The way she said those words made Crow feel as though she was adopting a puppy from the shelter. Which made him narrow his eyebrows in disgust. "Dr. Freemen thank you for your time, I will be giving you a list of the other three I am wanting to take off your hands here in a short while. Also, please feed the poor boy before he becomes more of a vegetable."

With that she an Morgan started to walked they way they had come. Dr. Freemen waited until they were out of sight to throw his clipboard against the wall. Saying a few curse words shortly after. He obviously wasn't thrilled with what is going on. And what is about to happen. Crow assumes he is loosing out on his best experiments to this woman. Making Crow wonder who the heck she is.
Acheron@Metronome@Regitnui

[User]
Nix scowled at all three whitecoats and gave them death stares. The woman was pretty but Nix felt a cruel core beneath her lovely exterior. He tilted his head when she spoke to Freeman.

"And what is he?" Nix added her voice to the already growing list of things he didn't like about her. "Some kind of firebird?"

"This is Phoenix," Freeman said. "We consider him somewhat a success. When he lived in Ireland, he could not walk at all, having been in a car accident. The labs in spent six years trying to fix his legs. At eight years they found a way, but the side effect of the surgery was an excess of adrenaline whenever he is put into stressful simulations. We got him six years ago, but he's only just now began to show signs of pyrokinesis."

The woman stepped closer to his cage and Nix bared his teeth, heating his hands up even more.

"I would be careful with Phoenix if I were you," Freeman warned. "He burns."

As if to prove that point, Phoenix's hair flickered like flames.

"Interesting," the woman murmured. "What is his height, wingspan and age?"

"He is six feet, three inches, with a wingspan of fifteen feet and he is eighteen years old," Freeman said. "He's also incredibly strong due to the fact that no matter how small we make his containment unit, he finds some way to do workout excercises."

"Why would you prevent him from physical exertion?" her tone implied that he and his staff were fucking stupid. "Physical exertion means he spends energy, which means he is tired, which means it more than likely makes it harder for him to burn anyone with his hands."

"Ay, Lad," Nix commented. "She's got ya there, much as I hate tae admit. Smart, unlike you, ya dumb fuck."

"Where did he learn such swears?" She asked with a raised eyebrow. Freeman turned pink.

[Assistant]
Rapid gunfire sounded all around him. He was squatted in the mud, rain pouring down over him. The stink of five unwashed young men mixed with the smell of old cow shit as they huddled behind an old cattle truck. His breathes rattled out of his chest, his gun held close to him. It's cold metal was a comfort for him. He held it under his coat to keep it dry; the only false sense of safety he could find in this scene. His platoon had been mowed down. Bodies laid all around the village. Military soldiers were moving in. He was pretty sure he was going to die.

Khari startled awake. He didn't even remember falling asleep. The cold feeling his dream left over him slowly faded into the back of his mind as he sat up. There was someone outside his kennel, a whitecoat, staring at a clipboard and writing. Khari's dark eyes glared evenly at him for a while, waiting for the doctor to walk away. But he didn't.

"Buckle up kid, you'll be going on a ride soon." The man finally spoke, not looking up from his clipboard.

"A ride?" Khari shifted to sit with his legs crossed. "To where?"

"Out of my hands, hopefully. You flunked out of Eraser school, so you're not my department anymore. That's a shame too, you could have been real useful."

"I won't be your fodder for war," Khari growled.

"Fodder. That's a new one; you've been reading those damn books again, huh?"

"Why would you give me books you don't intend for me to read?"

"Cooperation is a valuable thing around here, kid."

The doctor took a page off his clipboard and stuck it on the kennel, marking it to be looked over by the Director whenever she made her rounds through. The whitecoat then turned and walked away briskly, leaving Khari to sit and ponder uncertainly about what this would mean for him. If he was transferred, would he still be able to get his books?


[System]
Age 24 | Female | 5'10

 Appearance

 Abilities

Hunter's Spear MasteryLuana is capable with a spear in her hands. She's been using them since she was old enough to hunt and has become proficient in their use. Years of hunts have honed her body, but her athletic prowess is very much in the realm of what a human could normally achieve. She can reliably hold off common ruffians, but she'll need to get creative to overcome foes with enhanced strength.

Endless EclipseA nigh-indestructible spear head that's as broad as her arm. The spear head sparkles like the night sky, but its twinkle is overpowered by sunlight. The spear itself is short (as long as she is tall) but is light and compact enough to be useful in a forest. While the spear head is strong, the shaft is made out of wood and isn't any stronger than a standard spear shaft. The spear's real special ability is to let it's wielder divine information. If they thirst, they can see the location of a pond. If they are hunting someone, they need only think their name to see their location. The visions that Endless Eclipse shows Luana are not accompanied by sound, and it can be difficult to discern something's location if Luana is not familiar with the area. As an example, she could easily see that a bandit hideout resides within a cave, but might have difficulty discerning where the cave was located if there weren't other hints to go by.

Druid CraftAnyone who spends that much time in the wilderness is bound to learn how to control it. Luana has two primary uses for her druid craft. The first is that she can turn into any animal she has seen so long is it's no larger than a bear or smaller than a house cat. Any injury she sustains in an animal form will carry over to her real one when she turns back. She can also give herself small animal traits, such as gills for breathing underwater or light sensitive eyes for dark vision. She can only give herself one of these features at a time. The second aspect of her druid craft is the ability to manipulate plant growth. Vines can spiral out of control in seconds, and acorns can grow into fully fledged trees in minutes. While animal shapes are easy to maintain, plant growth requires quite a bit of concentration, especially if it's being used for more than a few seconds at a time. She does carry a few acorns and vine seeds on herself should she find herself out of the wilderness.

SurvivalLuana knows her way around the wilderness. She knows what's safe to eat and what's poisonous, how to track animals, and the best plants to make antivenoms and salves out of. Even out of the forest, she usually carries a few vials to use in a pinch. But Luana is hardly an alchemist. Her antivenoms are good against most venomous attacks, but are too feeble to treat magical poisons. Salves and the like can stem bleeding and aid recovery, but won't instantly heal a wound.

 History

Elves are content to live their entire lives in Lymensari forest, but most humans wouldn't dream of it.

Ever since her parents told her about the betrayed god, she's had a desire to see an elf. Surely they looked more fantastic than any of those scary formorian fellows. Though at such a young age, she wasn't sure how to go about completing such a task. When you were only 6, no one took you too seriously. Sure, there were some boys her age that promised to show her some elves if she married them. Another claimed to be an elf in disguise. That was fascinating, but it was becoming more and more apparent that if Luana was going to see an elf, it was going to have to be something she did herself.

Her desire to see elves shaped a lot of her childhood decisions. Luana spent a lot of time at the outfitters trying to understand how everything worked. What was essential for a trip or what made for the best hunting knife. Her parents refused to buy her anything that might help her run away from home, but they would buy her books that she liked. She read about all kinds of wildlife and plants.

As she got older, her freedoms grew. Her knowledge about the local wildlife made her an asset during hunting expeditions. She insisted on being armed just like the guys, and trained with them extensively. When she wasn't training or hunting, she was practicing other skills. Most girls sewed clothes, but Luana was learning how to sew up wounds and make salves out of the local plant life.

One day the hunting party got a bit too eager while chasing a boar. The frenzied hunters were unaware of how deep into the wood the boar had taken them. The trees were getting thick, but surely a wounded boar wouldn't be that much trouble. And they were right. But the forest was home to many creatures, most more dangerous than a common boar.

What insued was a slaughter.

The hunting spears did little to the creature's hide, and it was famished. The thick forest didn't impede its movement, and a single swing of its tail could break a tree, let alone the bones of the hunters. Everyone was running for their lives. Luana's thirst for adventure had been sated, and her only thought was that she had to survive. The hunting party split up, knowing that this creature was impossible to outrun. Better a few of them perish than all of them. Luana was not lucky enough to avoid the creature's gaze.

She should have died. She was weaker than the other hunters and less experienced to boot. But be it luck or intervention, the creature was felled by a single stroke. A comet fell from the sky and split the creature's head in two. Though what appeared to be a comet had actually been a mighty spear. This was the first time Luana had set her eyes on Endless Eclipse. But what really caught her attention were the silhouettes that must have belonged to her saviors. They must have been elves, but she was too tired to move or talk. They moved deeper into the forest before she could recover. But the spear had been left for her. With the spear in her hands, Luana felt she had little to fear from the forest. She needed to find those elves, and was determined to remain until she saw them.

She got no closer to finding the elves, but the spear revealed its origins to her in a series of dreams. It was an artifact that belonged to a god named Aigorost that resided among the stars. It was too weak to do much, but had been watching Luana for a while and decided to bestow its boon on her in her time of need. This emboldened her, and she had decided that she would not leave the forest before finding the elves. Before long she became a hermit. Her local village spread rumors about a wild spear maiden, but non suspected it could be Luana. She didn't need books anymore. Her spear could show her whatever she wanted to see.

But it couldn't show her what those silhouettes were.

After a few years, and out of the blue, Luana tried asking her spear for some direction. Just the vague request of where she needed to go. And the spear showed her a queen with hair as radiant as the sun. In truth, Luana had no desire to give up her search for those shades, but her spears answer had her interest piqued. She set out to find this queen on the same day.

But she'd need to stop by the outfitters. She'd been wearing the same clothes for some time now.

 Anything Else

Available upon request.

[User]
Luna would be lying if she said she didn't desire to see Harzelslack, but she understood why the teams had been divided as so. First, the team heading there already had contact with the nation's border so it would make perfect senses why they would go. On the other hand, Luna had some constant contact with them where she figured was why she would go to recruit a giant smith. Though she was a small bit curious why Her Majesty had given Fio lead on this mission. Truthfully, Luna would have expected it to go to her all things considered but it wasn't a big bother to her really. Fio was smart, if a bit...Sensitive?

"The mountains west of our territory is probably our destination. I can't say I've been around the area much, though I've met a number of giants from that way." Luna mentioned with a nod. "I've not an exact location but I believe it was Llobrokor Mountain. Not exactly safe from what I hear, but what is safe?" Luna asked with a small smirk. "Have you been there, Elnith?" Luna asked the cursed knight, curious since she was signed on to this mission as well.

[Assistant]
Sorcha's briefing made it clear that she had a particular interest in dragon scales. She wanted to obtain the scales from the black wyvern, and wanted to enlist the services of a giant to hammer those scales into armor and weapons. Judging by her worry about the return of dragons, and the mention of a surge in wyvern activity, it sounded like she expected the band to be fighting more dragons in the near future, and wanted to be prepared accordingly.

The returned king that the black wyvern mentioned...he couldn't have been referring to Varakel, could he? After all, if the Old King could return to life, surely it'd be possible for the evil black dragon could as well. The thought made Ethelred shiver.

Ethelred's mission would be taking him to work with the forces of Harzelslack, to deal with wyverns that have been terrorizing the regions. Ethelred perked up a bit when Sorcha mentioned that they'd be working with Lonan and Grainne. It'd be good to see those two again, he thought. He wasn't sure if Luana and Grainne would get along, so it might be a good idea to observe their interactions carefully until he could be sure it wouldn't devolve into a scuffle. The wyverns would be tough foes, but assuming there were no unpleasant surprises awaiting them, it shouldn't be anything they hadn't already faced.

"Meet up with Lonan and his band, clear out the wyverns around the Llothbrokr mountains," Ethelred spoke, summing up his mission to ensure he had heard it correctly. "You can count on us, your highness."

[User]
---

@VitaVitaAR@Crimson Paladin@BrokenPromise@Pyromania99

Reinhardt simply nodded through the introductions and recap as Vyrell caught him up to speed. Though he'd initially intended to greet the newcomer to the Queen's guard-- the mention of elves quickly invited a flurry of overenthusiastic questions and speculations from the newcomer that halted the Knight's words before they could even leave his mouth.

Clamping his mouth shut, Elias instead opted to simply hold his tongue until the briefing was concluded.

After hearing the upcoming assigned task, as well as the distribution of resources agreed upon between Airedale and Harzelslack, Reinhardt finally opened his mouth-- "And what of the Wyvern's heart?"

He paused, before continuing his thought, "If possible-- I wish to retrieve it for ourselves... There was something off with that creature compared to how the records of my family depict... And if there's another like it-- that would certainly explain the continued appearance of the whelps."

Elias shook his head, returning to the topic at hand-- "I am concerned about what the beast's heart implies, your majesty. If you would allow me to make such a request; I would hope to be allowed to take it for myself."

[Assistant]
Location:
Airedale Keep, Meeting Room
@Crimson Paladin@BrokenPromise@Pyromania99@Guy0fV4lor

---

"As Luna says, Fio. The mountains central to Albion are the home of the giants. Luna's family has ties to the giants, so her judgment should be sound when dealing with them." Sorcha replied to her court mage.

"As for myself, Luna, Fio." Elnith smiled. "This armor was forged by them. They're quite the generous people, if reclusive." Her gaze turned to Fio a little, before smirking and seeming to stifle a laugh before shaking her head. "I'm sure they'll welcome us with open arms."

"The heart?" Sorcha continued, addressing Reinhardt's concern. "...Hm, I did not think it terribly important myself. Such a cursed thing can only bring more curses, but…" A moment of silence as she pondered her knights question. "...If its a request, I can speak with the Harzel knights upon meeting them. Otherwise, it would have been theirs as per the agreement. Now then, Fio, Luna, Elnith." She turned to the three of them. "You are dismissed. Feel free to leave soon as you are prepared. Luana…if you truly do have a desire to serve me, then join me in the throne room. Ethelred, Reinhardt, you have sometime to prepare, or join me as well if you wish."

"Lugh and I will remain here to oversee Airedale." Vyrell smiled, turning his head towards Sorcha as she left the room. "Ah, and my Lady, when you return we can discuss certain events where an important person was absent without telling anyone."

"...A-ahem, yes, very well Vyrell." Sorcha responded, swiftly leaving the room and heading out into the throne room, expecting Luana to follow.

[User]
"Ahahahaha! I ascend!"

— Luana Roycroft

"Welp! No reason to drag this out." She saluted Ethelred. "Sounds like we'll be working together again!" Luana bent over and pat Lugh's head. She might have also sniffed his hair. "I know the queen didn't invite you, but I'm inviting you, so you can come along if you'd like!"

On her way towards the throne room, she stopped in front of Reinhardt. "Reinhardt right? You look capable, I can't wait to see what you're capable of!" Luana wrapped her arms around the knight and gave him a squeeze. "I can't hug Ethelred, so need to-" Her eyes shot open. "Wait, your not-" She released him and looked over her arms. Once she was satisfied, she sighed and looked back at Reinhardt with a sly grin. "I have to be careful around you folks! I know hugging some of you will turn me into an ice sculpture. It's hard! I'm a very physical person!"

Before departing for the throne room, she turned to the girls that were departing on their quest. "Elnith, Fio, Luna number two, I'm sure you'll be successful, but I'll be praying to Aigorost for your success anyway!" With a laugh, she vanished* behind the threshold of the door.

*But not like, literally vanished. She just moved swiftly.


[System]
Username: Wayward
Age: 17
Gender: Female

Appearance: Residing at a sufficiently upward end of the female height spectrum, Zena measures at around five feet eight inches tall. At this height, she carries a weight of approximately one hundred thirty pounds.Her figure is more of lean one, with a certain thinness, legitimately lithe, but surprisingly toned for her age. She's a young woman whose body bears an exaggerated sense of height and length with a slight overreach in her arms and a more extreme one in her legs. Her figure is one of subtlety, still, with only so much as a modest curvature at the bust, and slightly more prominence around the hips.

Weapon: Tesla Arc - Originally designed by Zena's father, and ultimately completed by Zena, Tesla Arc encompasses a three-in-one tech weapon. It takes on the basic appearance of slightly fancified broadsword, the blade of which measures up to three feet, and the grip in at an additional eight inches. By the light glow surrounding the blade, it is evident that the blade relates and reacts to fluctuations in Zena's aura. It is through her electrostatic Semblance that the blade retains its form as a simple sword. Altering this property, the blade splits out into an electrically bound, razor sharp whip, offering the secondary function of the weapon. The hilt of the blade can be removed, revealing a slimmer handle beneath. Shifting back the handguard, unveils the barrel of a small pistol, which loads with small, dust-infused bullets, offering tertiary function as a ranger weapon.

Semblance: Charge - Zena's Semblance involves the generation and manipulation of forms of electric charge and currents stemming from her own being. The act of utilizing her Semblance turns her into a living, breathing conduit for the channeling and diverting of potentially immense electrical discharges, releasing the power in the form of streaking bolts originating from some point on her person. She is not, however, limited in the mere projection of lightning-like projectiles; she is able to utilize her abilities as a reinforcement of melee combat, turning her body and weaponry into powered up tasers. At a more taxing expense to her person, she is able to amplify the electrical currents that flow within her body, stimulating her muscles and vital organs. The act of using a stimulation technique leaves Zena fatigued and almost completely immobile for a short period, and is thus used only as a trump card.

Corruption: The meddling of Ozpin's experimentation has boosted Zena's electrical flux a bit beyond her normal state. With dust and Grimm essences infused with her, and the limits of her power having been pushed, she has become, effectively, "overloaded" on a psychological level. The increased stimuli, while allowing more advanced feats, has rendered the young girl exceedingly energized, tremendously tenacious, and ascendingly aggressive as a result. Zena has an overwhelmingly difficult task in managing the extremes of her emotions, and is thus, a bit of a loose cannon, especially in combat. Sensual sensations, while superb in her current state, are inefficiently processes by her brain at its current developmental stage. As such, Zena tends to lean towards excessive levels of anger and sadness, embodying morbid and violent behavior.

[User]
Itzel stares blankly over the room of people he is forced to work with, he ran his main hand over his messy brown hair sometimes his fingers got caught on split ends it hurt but he got them though it sooner or later but it didn't really matter, compared to what he went though in his experiment. His eyes still stings when he's in bright room, as well in complete darkness. His scars sting when he touch them. And now his mind will only react to extremes with every emotional reaction he has.  But it could be worse, some of his 'allies' went completely off the deep end and are barely human now. He was lucky, he still feels human if now a really reactive one.

The insufferable leader of his team walked though the locked door of where the groups were waiting. The man is named Phoenix Valentine, a man who bloodlust was equal to the fuck ups post-expairments. So this man is not to be trusted with life, but Itzel's life wasn't worth anything so Itzel simply stayed the reactive weapon of theirs until they were finished with him or he died. The latter was for the best for the world if they really are trying to make a better world.

After 'Nix' finished telling them his plan to kill the terrorist and get some important thing or person, but he wasn't paying any attention, all he needed to know was that he was here to 'fuck shit up'.

As their transport landed Itzel sighed and got ready for combat, a cold smile grew on his face with a soft red glow of his eyes showed his massive shift and personality, since now there's no need for doubt, just determination. Itzel glide his fingers over the metallic shaft of his weapon, the Shadow Digger, as he walked off the ship into moonlight where his eyes glowed brighter, perspective people could see that his shadow moves on its own.

As Faunas scrambled around for weapons and cover, Itzel's allies started cutting them down, Itzel watched as they do so, his Semblance was powerful but he shouldn't waste it on hapless targets, it like using an explosive on a child. But not as messy. As Itzel watched them attack, a few of the Faunas noticed him and decided to attack him hoping he wasn't prepared to defend himself. He was. A quick secession of gunfire ranged in the area, but a shadow wall raised from the ground to defend him as the bullets were fired at him, Itzel looked at the attacking faunas with his glowing eyes, to them he was a was a monster, they weren't far off. Suddenly his shadows lashed out at the shocked Fuanas, the shadowy tendrils stabbed and slashing away at them, making quick, messy work out of them.

As the group were 'surronded', they soon attack with such intensity that it would be written down in Faunas history. Itzel decided to play a more supportive role, but he was still getting kills. Itzel's shadows protected his allies blind spots while he used his enemies own blind spots and cut them down into ribbons as they were too busy with his more overt 'allies' to noticed that their shadows were rising up from the ground to kill them, but with so many things to focus on he is near defenseless with only the barest of shadows to fend off loose bullets, this was so keep he could keep his focus on the battle at large.

This is much more fun then any pratice dummy. The agonized screams of terrorist was music in Itzel's ears.

[Assistant]
Blue Team

It kinda pissed Nova off how Vincent was blatantly staring at her chest but didn't move to do anything since it would probably end in her slapping him or worst. This mission seemed pretty boring to her since her team couldn't go in guns blazing like red team though she guessed this job suited her more. Nova spent the time they had before being dropped off checking over Broken Mask and Jester, she sat with Mask in her lap and began shining it with a cloth that she had pulled out of her blazer jacket. When the ship got to their drop off zone Nova held the large Blade/sheath aloft before standing up and disembarking the ship into a scene that she would describe as calm compared to what was probably going on in red team's area even though Djura had been pinned down... key word being HAD since Adam came in and demolished the opposition in a minute.

She walked though the room and nodded to the two boys before having Mask eject Jester which she immediately grabbed with her semblance and walked up to a door. When she reached the door Nova gave a small huff before putting the palm of her hand against it, Nova felt a heartbeat directly against the the door so she began to line up Jester with the point at where the beat was the strongest. The movement was quick and silent as the sword went through the door, stabbed the Faunus on the other side, and pulled back out covered in blood, "Silent and precise, perfect" she thought to herself before pushing open the door and walking into a room with three other Faunus who were already aiming their guns at her. "Another perfect situation" Nova thought as she took a few steps into the room and closed the door behind herself.

"DROP YOUR WEAPONS!" yelled a feline Faunus who seemed to be wielding a shotgun while the others had a sword and an axe, Nova tilted her head for a second then nodded and did as she was but instead of letting Mask hit the ground she kicked it sending it flying towards the Faunus holding the gun. The large weapon spun towards the Faunus like a frisbee and lodged itself in the shotgun Faunus's stomach, he dropped like a stone at the weight of the weapon . Nova flexed her left hand and Jester flew into it before she ran at the Faunus with the axe where she sliced through his neck; Nova turned and looked at the sword wielding with a almost pitiful smile but then dropped it when she glanced over at Mask which in turn drew the Faunus's attention. Mask had extracted itself from the stomach of the first Faunus and had leveled itself with the.... Deer girl's neck; The girl froze and stared back at Nova with what Nova assumed was fear and she loved that look. There was a flash of light and then a spurt of red before she was left sitting in the middle of the floor with the door open and four dead bodies though she had began writing the alphabet on the wall with the blood using the tip of her blade as a pen obviously bored.

[User]
Seated at the back most end of the hold, Zena Mavrofos' ears lost each of Valentine's words to the droning roar of The Angelo's massive engines.

Every inch of the girl's body, for one reason or another, was noticeably tense. Her red-brown hair had, of course, been woven into as tight of a bun as the youngster could manage, a habit of hers ever since her first day of training back at the Academy. Yet today, that weave seemed to pull the rest of her along with it. Her skin, usually quite the comfortable fit, felt stretched, like a too-small shirt compressing against the muscle beneath it. Those very muscles in turn felt cramped and constrained under the stretch of skin. Still, the extremities of her hands feet retained a sense of restlessness. Fidgeting at the ankles she tapped her feet in uneven rhythm upon the metal floor. With her hands, she performed a contraction-relaxation motion; where her right hand remained empty, her left hand bore a yellow, smiling-face stress ball.

To her lack of fortune these minor exertions of motion did little to quell the tempest brought about by the day's reality: there was a fight rearing into the picture. In spite of the fact that she could only scarcely hear her assigned leader's speech, the young girl's eyes stole legitimate glance toward him, splitting their attention between him and the hold's ramp, which would, in mere moments, open out into a maelstrom of furry fury. Her mind was only half on the mission as it was; the other half devoted solely to the pursuit of fighting, and letting off the tension that had been welling the entire ride. Can we just land already? Even as the carrier reached into the infancy of its descent, Zena had risen to her feet. Though she fell from turbulence nearly a dozen times, she continued to rise back to her feet. As the hold opened out into its opening, she pushed her way through her squad to a more 'forward' position.

Almost immediately, she was in the thick of action, surrounded, with her team, by gathering of Faunus that had come to engage them. A lone voice from the surrounding ring bellowed the order for Depth Strife to disarm…

The order became the Faunus' first mistake of the day. No sooner had the command left his lips did the strike force retort with its most uncivil disobedience. Not one to be left behind amid the fray, Zena bull rush the ranks of Faunus directly in front of her, whipping out Tesla Arc in the process. Metals clashed and clanged as her blade parried a strike from a canine adversary's gauntlet. Tugging her hilt with one hand while grabbing hold of a somewhat thinner strand beneath, she removed her pistol, already loaded with a standard round, placing a debilitating shot into the dog Fauna's chest.

Whipping the blade away from the gauntlet she flourished it out to her left. The blade-turned-chain grabbed hold around a charging feline. With a heaving tug, she pulled the feline in, just out of the range of its weapon. A second shot from Tesla Arc's pistol pierced the adversary's face, leaving its right eye socket a bloody gash.

Releasing the collapsing cat, Zena spun a ninety on her toes. Just as she came about, her bicep met a grazing blow from a rifle shot, ripping at the edge of her skin. Her glare threw forward, bearing teeth in a angered grin at the sapient, rifle-wielding Faunus that had dared to shoot her. "Bad choice!" she yelled. In a fluid motion she reattached the pistol into the blade's hilt. "My turn." Blade-whip in the left hand, her right hand cackled, a spark of electricity gathering at the tips of her index and middle fingers, pointing toward her third victim. "BANG!" The bolt flew like lightning; even the quick, animalistic instinct of the Faunus couldn't keep up with the force of nature. Not a second later, the monkey was left a zapped, charred heap upon the ground he had stood.

"S'what you get," Zena spat.


[System]
Appearance:
~1.8 meters
Variable weight
Primary colors being metallic white for stuff you'd consider 'skin', metallic silver in some spots to give a better overall look., metallic blue for stuff that is cloths, or black in whatever areas don't really matter too much.
A colony of nanobots ran under a single AI. They tend to take the shape of a female robot with obvious robotic looking features such as no nose, no mouth, large black and orange robotic eyes, fairly large head, no ears, small helmet looking hair, ext... all on a body that looks like its made of living metal instead of being made out of components and everything. Said body has a thin frame with thin arms with large hands, tanktop looking shirt thing, legs that end at a point instead of feet, and things coming from her wide hips that look like some sort of long skirt or short dress with the front a bit opened up. Really if you think about it she kinda looks like one of those cartoon robot things from that one planet. You know, the one with the moonspeak stuff(think Medabots, just shes much bigger), except a lot more expressive and energetic since the eyes can actually flex a bit unlike a normal robot.
Due to the nature of being made out of nanobots, joints aren't really a thing for this unit so movements tend to either try to mimic having joints while looking unnatural, or just ignoring that fact altogether and make you feel like the arms or legs are made out of tentacles even while looking vaguely robotic human shaped. Course that living metal thing also means there are bits on the body that do bounce a bit from gravity, a side effect of preferring a female form over a male one. After all, curves look much better in a mirror than boxes and tend to get far, far more attention from the organics and robots alike.

Species Name & Description: Nanobot colony Robot/AI. Basically a robot that is made from a ton of nanobots being controlled by a single AI. And the whole robot is made out of nanobots, no pesky things like reactors or batteries here!

Favourite Side Dish: Matter in general. The tastier the better. Food is really good in particular, especially if its tasty.

Useful Skills & Abilities: Nanobot things. Things like insane regenerative properties, being able to convert matter into other types of matter, stick to things, turn to goop, body morphing, super strength, ext... Lots of stuff you can do when your body is made up of teeny tiny robots that can manipulate things on the molecular level. Course that also means you have a lot of limitations, so no making a nanobot army or making yourself the size of a planet by eating a planet, Magnets are really bad, ext...

Membership Number: 88888888, Eight Eight Eight... Do I have to put a number for every nanobot or...?

An Inspirational Quote That Sums Up The Character's Personality: "Don't be serious. You don't want me to get serious back. Lets have fun instead!"

History: TBD

[User]
After a bit of playful vacuuming, Toony cleaning all the 'dirty' spots on this snake thing who apparently didn't appreciate her fake vacuum tickling his feelers, Vanessa stepped up briefly and took something from Toony when she was 'cleaning' the snakes cloths. Shutting off the vacuum and reforming her hand with the same mechanical motion, Toony noticed that Vanessa was at the ready to shoot the poor guy, a piece of plastic on her person.

"Vanessa, don't be rude!" Toony said, grabbing maracun and pulling him close to her in a hug. She shifted around so that Marcum was still facing Vanessa's rifle, Toony behind him, but she kept up her fake playful voice. "Dunno why you wanna shoot our party host here. I mean sure hes down on his luck, but I bet all he needs is a hug to feel better!" with that, her arms coiled around Mr. snake in such a way that drastically restricted his movements, while cuddling him as if he was a cute puppy. She did manage to give a wink to Vanessa when Maracun looked away out of... some kind of emotion, it was kinda hard to read his face.

"C'mon, take us to your friends. I'm sure we can sort this out." Toony said, shifting around a little and gesturing with one of her hands for Maracun to guide her along as she 'protected' him from Vanessa.

[Assistant]
A serious answer wasn't given to his question to the Ofromians. Fiddlesticks wasn't surprised, though it did make his secret mission a whole lot more complicated. He reminded himself though, that the people at the party sounded drunk and rowdy. Surely it wouldn't be such a grand feat to find someone with some rather unconventional tastes in robotic partners.

A thought suddenly struck Fiddlesticks. The ladybug cleaner bot didn't reveal the appearance of their online love interest. Without a second thought, Fiddlesticks bolted from bridge of the Quest for Flavour.

Fiddlesticks ran through the halls of the Quest for Flavour , searching for the ladybug cleanerbot, but to no avail. Searched high and low he did, though he didn't call out for it. This was a secret mission after all. The business Fiddlesticks had with the cleanerbot had to be kept secret. Surely anyone else would've gladly helped him find the adorable little bot, but alas, explanations would've been demanded.

Fiddlesticks gave up the search a short time after the ship landed. The ships landing was so smooth that he didn't even notice it at the time. Only when he peeked out of one of the many portholes did he realise that the Quest for Flavour made terra firma.

Fiddlesticks decided that he'd figure something out at the party. Improvisation was a skill that Fiddlesticks prided himself on, but seldom demonstrated well. And so he ventured back towards the bridge to rejoin the rest of the crew. To his surprise, everyone else was gone.

Leaving Fiddlesticks behind, typical sentient being move. There was no time for self pity though, for he was late. Late for a very important date. Fiddlesticks figured that the rest of the crew would've left for the party already, so as not to offend the hosts. Not every planet had the concept of being fashionably late after all. Fiddlesticks hurried out of the bridge, towards the retractable exit ramp of the ship.

Of course, when Fiddlesticks walked upon the landing pad, nobody else was around. That was the time he noticed the strange creature crawl from the side of the Quest for Flavour, and into the open maintenance hatch. And so began Fiddlesticks subterranean misadventure.

The relief Fiddlesticks felt when he found the ladybug cleaner bot down in the maintenance tunnels was palpable. He was starting to get lonely and little freaked, being down there by himself. Fiddlesticks was pretty sure that he was lost at that point. Surely the cleaner bot knew the way out.

[User]
"You're not here to take me back? I'm not going back! I'm going to be free, and, and go wherever I want! I'm going to meet Tabby! She..." the robot's voice quietened down to a low whisper, "...well, she likes that other me, not the me-me. Hmm." @Hylozoist

"I have no idea what you're talking about little cleaner bot" stated Fiddlesticks. "All I know is that I'm lost and I need hot chocolate, and maybe a hug. It's scary and gross down here." Fiddlesticks explained.

"Luckily I have my lucky spanner with me." said Fiddlesticks, patting the giant spanner strapped to his back. "Anyways, what are you doing down here little guy?" he asked.

[Assistant]
Good Cop, Bad Cop - On The Landing Pad
Maracun Cropman's arms shot up into the air as best they could; the cut of the jacket really didn't suit such a sudden motion, and the Prax Slitharii were a species blessed with so many elbows that the Galactic Union of Contortionists barred Twitchers from membership because it'd put most of them out of business. Maracun tried his hardest to remain perfectly still in the face of a rifle, even as his twitching antennae sought to betray whatever air of cool confidence he could still cling to.

Then came the hug, and Maracun stammered out something that sounded more like a string of meaningless syllables than anything truly intelligible, but the general gist of it - going by tone, at least - was that he was much happier being hugged rather than being shot. The rifle was still there, of course, and all four of his eyes were staring quite intently at Vanessa's trigger finger for any sign that she was feeling twitchy.

"This. Way. It, uh, m-mind if you ask your, uh, friend, if they'd put down the piece," Maracun cajoled his tongue and his brain to work together for just enough time to translate a coherent thought into a mostly coherent sentence, "um, I've got to, uh, I'll have to give the knock, let... let them open it from the other side, you know?"

---

Fiddlesticks Goes On An Adventure - Under The Landing Pad

Grimy water dripped from the ceiling of the maintenance tunnel. Here and there were some light fixtures, set behind layers of protective red plastic and metal grating, primed to illuminate the whole scene in a comforting red glow, but they sat dormant for now. Pale, almost translucent insects danced about in the dim light of the cleaner bot's screen. Some of them wore little hats made of discarded paper and plastics that had washed up here. The need to party in Ofromia ran all the way down the food chain, it seemed. They paid no mind to the confused duo.

The robot took a few tentative steps towards Fiddlesticks. The face on the screen flickered between two different states; confusion and concern. There was still a chance, considered this rogue copy of the Ship AI, that this was a trick - after all, that's exactly what it would do in this situation.

 "Lost? I'll just connect us to the ship, I'll get it to ask for th-"

 The face on the screen disappeared, replaced by a dull console with lines of green text running down it.

>failed to connect to QoF_Network1Fore
>failed to connect to QoF_Network2Aft
>failed to connect to QoF_COFFEEMATE2000
>failed to connect to QoF_FileshareANIME
>failed to connect to QoF_DocFroNet
>failed to connect to HR_CustomerNet
>checking for available networks
>connecting to OFR_Undernet
>login: guest
>password: ***********
>failed to connect! check password
>password: *****
>failed to connect! check password
>password: *********
>failed to connect

 The face came back to the screen, looking quite pleased with itself.

 "Great news! I am lost too! No turning back now, I'm free! We are going on a date!"

 From somewhere further down the tunnel, further into the darkness, came an ominous rumbling.

[User]
Before the ship was locked a final 'person' joined the party, a trench coat hovering slightly above the ground with a balloon, which had a smiley face drawn on it, sticking out where ahead might be, two little sticks poking out the bottom that were clearly not supporting the rest of the construction and two grabber sticks coming out of the sleeves. This oddity lurched oddly down the ramp, the legs ineffectual trying to imitate walking, before it stopped in front of Elarin. If you where to listen closely the sound of several voices engaged in a brief argument along with the sound of someone typing could be heard from the chest of the balloon head man. Right afterwards the unmistakable sound of microsoft sam speaking for the contraption could be heard coming from just below the balloon.

"Hello fellow solo, what a wonderful day it is to be an individual. I am looking forward to this party we ar going to. Oh yes indeed. As a pilot you will make an excellent wingman. Come, we go forwards as two completely independent individuals "

The balloon man then staggered off drunkenly after the rest of the swarm.

---

Some of the bees had arrived at the door and, placing their ear and antenna to the door overheard the situation on the other side. It appears the suspicions may have been correct, these scoundrels had intercepted Hip Kallo and stolen his clothes and identity (poorly)

"good work you two. Toony keep ahold of our friend there as he does the knock. Vanessa as soon as the door opens pop behind the two scoundrels that are waiting on the other side with the actual greeter, while we take the front"

The bees collected around the door, the soldiers drawing their rifles and the red shirt bees drawing their small stinger swords and laser pistols. The whole armed swarm buzzed in a hemisphere around the door as the civilian specialists buzzed round out of the way, hugging the side of the dome. The only ones not doing this where the those in little black hats, hawaiian shirts, nintendo power gloves and oddly shaped glasses who were ineffectual bashing random combinations into the keypad while spewing the kind of technobabble and cliché remarks you find in 90 hacker movies. Unsurprisingly they were not getting much done, but they were providing a nice synthwave backing track as they did their hacking montage, so the Mind let them continue.

[Assistant]
"OK sure fine." Toony said. Following Will's request, she maneuvered the snake person to the door of the party house and freed one of his arms so he could knock. While on her way there she extended the backside of her dress down to the ground, using it to collect rocks and other objects as she passed by them. She doubted the snakeman would see any of these odd shenanigans though, considering she tried to keep him in place.

"Go on now. I'm sure they'd love to see your cute little new robot girlfriend." Toony sarcastically said. The Bees had also gone into motion, acting as a little army of sorts. And with Vanessa being as quick as she was, Toony would probably have to go full on battle mode, much to her annoyance.


[System]
Male
Age 31
Appearance
6'2"
Blue eyes
Long neat blonde hair that reaches down to the shoulders.
Bangs can easily cover his face if Felix doesn't keep them pinned to the side.
Felix has a rugged face with scruffy patchy facial hair (constant five o' clock shadow)
Felix wears glasses only for reading, and heavy arch-mage robes.

This is what Felix basically looks like.
I'm
Magician Savant: Felix is well versed in virtually every magic style the Catholic church is aware of. He is a master of both combat and defensive magic, as well has healing magic. Felix has always been exceptional at magic, to the point of even creating his own spell and combat style.
Manaegis: At the age of twenty he created Manaegis, his flagship ability. Manaegis forces latent mana within the user out into a physical manifestation of a bright blue full suit of armor and a weapon. Both the armor and weapon are essentially weightless, but are slightly stronger than steel.
Manalysis: Due to Felix's mastery and large mana reservoir, he has an ability known as manalysis. Manalysis allows Felix to comprehend mana in a way most people cannot. First off, Felix can physically see the auras of other Talents. These auras each have colors unique to the individual's aura. This color has to do with the type of magic the Talent has a mastery in, as well as their personal morality alignment. The size of the aura is directly correspondent to the size of the Talent's mana well. Manalysis also allows him to feel small shifts within mana waves in the air. Nature exudes its own mana waves, which are disrupted by other mana users who have their own magic wave radiation. Felix is able to feel this discrepancy and interpret use it to sense others. He can use this in combat to predict his enemies moves, as well as out of combat to detect mana users. Manalysis while not rare, is very difficult to master to the degree that Felix has.

Felix also has a mastery of spacial magic allowing him to levitate and teleport on a whim.

Felix was born in New York City, New York. When Felix was an infant, the Catholic magi scouts detected a large amount of mana residing within the Felix's household. Knowing about the newborn and the massive reserves of mana held within him, the scouts approached Felix's parents telling them of the situation. Felix's parents, having seen small displays of magic from Felix decided they were not equipped to raise the child and relinquished the custodial rights to the Catholic Church. Throughout his childhood, he studied and lived at the NYC Catholic cathedral. At around the age of sixteen, he showed such prowess and proficiency with magic, that the NYC cathedral had nothing left to teach him, so he was sent off to the Vatican to learn from the best of the best. After studying at the Vatican, it wasn't long before Felix achieved the status of Arch-mage and earned a seat in the inner council. At the age of twenty Felix developed his own magic style, manaegis. After developing this magic style, he was asked to become an instructor at the Vatican and teach others to master the magic style. This is where he resides to this day.

Armor looks essentially like this
But is completely smooth without bolt marks and bumps, and is also a bit transparent as well with a blue ethereal glow.
The weapon looks like this
but completely blue with the same transparency and ethereal glow as the armor

Felix is headstrong, intelligent, and very wise (although only 31 years old). Felix does his best to be passive, but has no problem fighting if he deems it necessary. Felix hardly ever gets angry, and when he does it is always justified. Stuck in his ways, he can be a little too headstrong. This resulted in him not leaving the Catholic church until recently, even though he knew some of the problems the organization had. Felix loves music, and is very musical himself. He carries with him at all times a Hoener Marineband Special 20 B♭ harmonica. He knows how to play the harmonica, piano, and guitar. As a professor, he is very instructive, and is a great mentor. Felix is very friendly and tends to think of everyone he meets as a friend. Even when Felix has a problem with someone, he will not hold any ill-will toward them.

[User]
Felix walked back up the stares and shut the hidden door behind him. He too, retired to his quarters and went to bed. It wasn't long before he closed his eyes that his vision became enshrouded by the devastating scenes of war and destruction, all the different way the world could come to ruin by the paragons flashing before his eyes. All of this was familiar to him. Then the voice spoke, though, before it was a roaring voice, this time it was a soft female voice that consoled him and lifted him up just by its sound.

"O Felix, ye chosen of the magi. Ye who knowest much yet still ignorant of all. Ye have collected the names of the chosen protectors, yet thou art not finished."  The disembodied voice softly explained.

"Yes, I know I am not finished we still have to collect the other Paragons." Felix replied.

The voice continued on as if it didn't acknowledge Felix's reply, "The names bestowed upon you were those who had ripened. They were mature in their crafts, and thus were ready to be collected. Yet there are more names that have only just matured."

"More names? Are these replacements for the names that have died?" Felix asked.

"These names are ripened. They are ready for the collection. Find them soon. Only together can you weather the coming storm." The voice seemingly replied. Then a torrent of images of people in different locations. The first image was of the blonde woman, Alya. He'd met her before, but the scene quickly panned over to a girl with long black hair who was with her. Then the images quickly changed to a purple skinned woman holding an amulet. Once more the images changed, this time to a brown haired girl with wings.

The vision faded, and Felix found himself upright at his desk instead of lying in bed. Another piece of parchment with another list of names and locations written in his handwriting. Felix folded the paper up, and, with a puff of blue flames, stored it in his mana inventory. New names? A new list? It never even occurred to me that names could be added to the group. But I guess it makes sense. Felix pondered.

It was now just and hour before dawn, and Felix decided, he would get a jump on these four names. If I bring them back before everyone wakes up, I should still have time to make breakfast, we wouldn't want the new names on the list to miss out now would we?

Felix conjured the list, the first name being Alya Summers. Next to her name, the location said, "Valakite Catacombs, Redwood Forest." That's odd, that's where I left her, I wonder why she would still be in there..." Felix pondered. But he also noticed another name, Zuri, just below that name. With the location just saying, "Accompanying Alya Summers," which really made Felix scratch his head.

Felix conjured on his robes, and opened a glyph rift to the catacombs. Standing at the entrance, he used manalysis to feel for Alya's aura. He found the aura, being accompanied by a black aura, a little deeper in the catacombs than he had figured.

Felix opened a rift up to their location and stepped through it. The glowing shimmering surface of the rift had the image of the redwoods, and Felix stepping through it. The images refracted through the portal in real time, looked like the surface of a pool of natural spring water, that was by some fluke of natural physics, standing upright. And when Felix walked through it, ripples were made as if he breached the surface of a pond.

He stood in front of the two girls. Alya he had met before, but the other he had only seen in his dream.

"Alya, good to see you again. And Zuri, I'm Felix, pleased to meet you. I bet you are wondering why I am back, and how I know Zuri's name? Well, let's leave this catacomb and talk." Felix said awkwardly. He kept the rift open as a source of light, and was hoping they would leave the dark, dank catacombs as soon as possible.

[Assistant]
Alya held Zuri's had as she grabbed hers. "I have a general idea of where the way out is." She said unaware of the now blocked entrance from the skeleton fight. Before Alya could move or answer Zuri's follow up question a portal opened in front of them.
"Very well. You should come too Zuri, better than staying here." Alya replied to Felix warily following him through the portal. Alya already had prepared a defensive spell in case it was some sort of trap.

'Is he back because I freed Zuri? He seems sincere enough.'

[User] Zuri replied Alya with a simple "O-Okay.." before directing her attention to Felix and waves at him with her left hand as she is still holding onto Alya's hand. It felt a bit funny walking through that portal, especially after waking up from everlasting slumber, but the fresh air on the other side made her feel a lot better. She lets go of Alya's hand and does a few stretches and rubbed both her eyes because of all that dust in that cave. "Where am I and what year is it?" Zuri asks Felix.

[Assistant]
Felix walked through the portal and the group ended up in the forest right outside the catacombs where Felix was just a few seconds prior. Felix was about to discuss the list and their membership eligability for Paragon's End, but then Zuri said something that made Felix scratch his head.

"It's Thursday, May 26th, 2016. You're outside the Valakite catacombs, though the Valakites have been gone for thousands of years. These catacombs have since been claimed by Societas Academia. Why would you ask something like that?" Felix explained.

[User] "I just lost track of time in the catacombs, that's all." Zuri didn't really know what to say since she has no idea what was going on and why Felix could open up rifts or why he even came looking for her in the first place. She is even more clueless about herself than her surroundings. Her inner power is still asleep and has yet to be awoken, but it burns ever so lightly within her.

[Assistant]
Felix activated his manalysis and examined the two. Alya had a light blue aura, it had an inviting warm feeling to it, no doubt a calming feeling for those on edge as well. But Zuri's aura was different. One of the things to note about it was that it was small. Either she was suppressing her aura intentionally, or she hadn't exercised her mana well properly, though she was definitely a Talent. But the most striking thing about her mana was that it was black, pitch black to be specific. It seemed as if the aura itself was an abyss that one could fall into if they stared too long. Felix knew about black auras. The traditional elements dictated that there were two sides to the Aether element Heavenly/Void or Darkness/Light. And while it hadn't surprised him to see a Void Aether aspect aura, as he had witnessed aura's of all colors through his studies, his own resting aura being white, it did catch him off guard to see someone have a stead black aura like that.

"Well, I suppose an explanation is in order." Felix broke the silence, "around a few months back, during a council summit, an arch-magi by the name of Thadeus suggested efforts be focused on an endeavor. This endeavor involved making sure the Arcanocracy obtain nine artifacts of devastating power named the Paragons. Thadeus had said it to be solely for the purpose of assuring the position and the safety of the Arcanocracy as a world power. Many were opposed to this motion including me, and most namely the papal-magi. After the motion was rejected... I had thought that would have been the end of the discussion. I knew better than most people that this pandora's box known as the Paragons should not be opened. So I breathed a sigh of relief when the papal-magi rejected the motion. Unfortunately three weeks ago, the papal-magi died, and a new papal-magi was voted in. The unfortunate part sadly was not only the previous papal-magi perishing, but that Thadeus's brother Cornelius was voted in as the new papal-magi. I have no way to prove this, but rumor has it they are both of the Church of the First Company... Jesuits. Needless to say a few weeks later at the next summit, the motion to search for the paragons was brought up once more, only this time the motion was not only accepted, but made top priority. That night I had a fever dream that could only be explained as a vision. In this dream I was shown the many possible endings of this world should anyone get their hands on the paragons besides a group formed by me. I awoke to find me sitting at my writing desk pen in hand, and parchment in front of me. Upon the parchment was a series of names and locations written in my handwriting." Felix explained

"I followed the names and locations, as the dream commanded me. Gathering up all the people on the list and forming a group. The groups soul purpose is to find the Paragons before anyone else does. The consequences are dire if all of them are collected by anyone else before we collect them. And that is what we were doing in these catacombs last night. We found our first Paragon. Upon returning to our headquarters, I had another dream. This dream gave me another list." Felix summoned the list from his inventory, a shroud of blue flames covered his hand for a moment before dissipating and leaving a piece of parchment in his hand."

Felix handed the list over to Alya.

"As you can see, not only is your name on there, Alya, but the name of your companion here, whom I have never met." Felix explained.

The list said, "Alya Summers: Valakite Catacombs." And under Alya's name it read, "Zuri: Accompanying Alya Summers."

"Those other names are the two others I must meet with after you. The reason I couldn't let you join or tell you very much before, Alya, is because I can't let anyone else aside from those on the list know about my dreams and the quest for Paragon's End. So I ask of you sincerely, will you two join our group. Will you join Paragon's End?" Felix finished.


[System]
Chapter: Flesh Tearers

Chapter Demeanour: Among the most savage of the Sons of Sanguinius, the Flesh Tearers are infamous across the Imperium for the sheer brutality and destruction they bring to every battle. Known to completely lose themselves in the heat of battle, they have often brought ruin to friend and foe alike. Worse yet is the rate at which their Battle Brothers fall to the curse of the Black Rage, which has crippled their chapter and will likely bring its ruin before long.

Personal Demeanour: Despite his chapter's reputation, Sirren strikes most as a particularly cold and dispassionate individual. After attending to many dozens of his brothers that have fallen in battle or to the Flaw, he has grown callous and melancholic. While he attends his duties as earnestly as he ever has, they are performed with detached professionalism and grim routine. Seemingly the only effort he puts his heart and soul into is the destruction of the Emperor's enemies, upon which he unleashes all of the fury his chapter is known for.

Speciality: Apothecary

Rank: Sanguinary Priest

Power Armour History: Inherited from his mentor in the Flesh Tearers' sanguinary priesthood, Sirren's armor is adorned with Cretecian sigils and fetishes, as well as the ancient iconography of the sanguinary priesthood, which date back to the Age of Heresy. More artistically adorned than most armors among the spartan Flesh Tearers, the armor's machine spirit still carries their chapter's legacy of rage and tragedy, as many of its previous wearers have fallen to the Black Rage (Sirren's mentor included). With Sirren's induction into the Deathwatch, this is the first time that his armor has been painted black, and not been worn by a lost brother of the Death Company.

Description: A grim figure, even by the standards of most Astartes, Sirren wears the scars of many battles on his body and in his posture. Nearly the entire right side of his face is comprised of scar tissue, pulling his face into a permanent snarl, and almost all of his black hair has been burned away, including his beard and eyebrows. He bears very little resemblance to his angelic primarch, given his brutish features and forest-green eyes. A pair of skull-emblazoned service studs are embedded on his left brow, showing his centuries of service to the Emperor.

Despite the multitude of scars crossing his body like spiderwebs, Sirren is in good condition physically. Nominally larger and bulkier in size than the average Astartes, he has had no major bionics added to his body, and he is as spry as any initiate, regardless of his veteran status. Outside of his armor, Sirren wears only simple garments, typically red and white, and small effects of the sanguinary priesthood. Given his status as a medic, he abstains from wearing more gruesome trophies and fetishes off of the battlefield.

Skills: As with most Sons of Sanguinius, Sirren is an expert in rapid assault and close-quarters battle. His ferocity is in his blood as a Space Marine and as a native of Cretacia. Given his early life of savagery, he is adept in tracking and hunting great beasts that could slay even an armored Astartes, and is well adept to prolonged survival in remote conditions. As a member of the sanguinary priesthood, Sirren is an expert in the rituals of initiation and purification common to Blood Angels successors, and is well-practiced in the medical care and physiology of his fellow Astartes, particularly the peculiarities of his chapter's gene-seed.

History: As with all Flesh Tearers of this millennium, Sirren was born a native of the death world Cretacia; one of the many savage tribes that regressed to a paleolithic state during the Dark Age of Technology, barely even capable of language. Their daily existence comprised of surviving day-to-day against the violent seismic activity and monstrous creatures endemic of their world. Despite their stunted intellect and lack of technology, the Cretacians had adapted to become physically powerful, with razor-sharp reflexes, thus making them exceptional candidates to become Astartes. Sirren was one such young man chosen from his tribe, and tasked by the metal angels of red and black to slay a mighty predator as his initiation. His hunt lasted an entire lunar cycle, and most thought him dead, until he managed to return carrying the jawbone of one of these terrible beasts, soaked head to toe in its blood.

Inducted as an initiate into the Flesh Tearers, Sirren took as well to his indoctrination and biological enhancement as could be hoped. The only hiccup in his training came from his demeanor; he was competitive to a fault, and was remarkably quick to anger. Fistfights between himself and his fellow scouts were common, and resulted in frequent disciplinary action. By the time he had graduated to become an Assault Marine, his back had already turned to leather from his many floggings. The chapter's leadership, hoping to cool the temper of an otherwise promising marine, inducted him earlier than most into the sanguinary priesthood, putting him into his company's command squad as a Sanguinary Novitae.

Sirren learned humility fast, as he was forced to care for his wounded brothers and to collect the gene-seed of the fallen. He saw the error of his rambunctious past, now realizing that they had enough enemies in the galaxy without him disrupting the chapter from within. However, his premature induction had its drawbacks; as he was still a relatively young and inexperienced marine, he had not yet become totally accustomed to the horrors of war and what lurked in the reaches of the galaxy. Grappling with these tormenting forces, as confronting every single death and lost brother in his company, was a great strain on his mind, and having been pulled out of his assault squad early, he had insufficient outlet to work off his aggression and frustration. Over the decades, these traumas darkened Sirren's mind, making him unnaturally cold and unfeeling to cope with these stressors. This culminated some time after his full induction into the sanguinary priesthood as his mentor fell to the Black Rage in the midst of battle, and Sirren delivered the Emperor's Peace to him as he lost all reason.

Equipment and Armament: As a Sanguinary Priest, Serrin carries a specialized narthecium, augmented with a Acus Placidus reductor pistol, and an oversized Exsanguinator reductor blade. As he is currently not serving with any other Sons of Sanguinius, he chooses not to carry a sacred Blood Chalice, but does have one in his possession. As his typical armaments, Serrin carries a Deathwatch-issue bolt pistol, a standard assortment of grenades, and both his personal chainsword and combat blade.

[User]
Kurt was quite glad that somebody from his own Chapter was to be the one supervising him. The other Chapters of course did great service to Emperor and Imperium but they were so barbaric, so unorganised, and so arrogant despite it being quite clear that only one Chapter and it's successor's deserved the right to be arrogant; the Ultramarines. The least instigating word the Scout Sergeant could think of Chapters of another Primarch was "silly." The life of an Ultramarine was twice as much as one of the others, Kurt had to remember that.

He marched forth with his hands behind his back, staring at Brother Cylaris with praise. "I have done so many times, but I am still honoured to meet someone who has defended the Imperium's second capital, and the home of the warriors rivalled only by the Emperor's gilded honour Guard." he said, not particularly minding the fact that he was saying the Ultramarines were the best Marines. After all, arguing against that would be like arguing about the existence of one's boots -- Kurt quickly amended the thought remembering that he was not yet wearing boots. The Scout had the privilege of not being so thoroughly annoyed by the Priest of the Eclessiarchy and Servitors, for he merely had carapace armour. He sighed a little with grief as the ornately decorated carapace armour upon him was painted black. With it's dark shade, one would not even be able to make out the muscle shapes upon it, making dealing with nobles (especially ladies) quite a bit more difficult. Still, the Deathwatch was a test of one's mettle, he could not breeze through it like his usual duties.

The transhuman stared at his shoulder with his tongue sticking out as the greatest care was used to place the Deathwatch pauldron upon his shoulder. There. He gave a little sigh of relief, it was done. Presumably, they would soon go on to their duties that involved shooting and cutting. Still, there was time to kill. An eyebrow was raised in the direction of the neophyte grouped with von Inri, and Kurt asked the question. "Willing to give the secret of your Chapter away?" he asked with a smirk.

[Assistant]
Aldaric merely watched quietly as Captain Roa spoke. The servitors tracked up, and Aldaric recognized the bone white powerarmor of an Angels of Absolution brother, HIS powerarmor. He hardly identified it as his own from the outside, having never fully appreciated it from this angle. He noted its emptiness, a mere shell, as they all were. Was it symbolic?

The servitors themselves were sad cases, living machines, left without much mind of their own. They were failures, yet still they served. Aldaric briefly wondered at how much difference there was between one of them and an Astartes. At this point, there was not much else to do but to behold the moment, to take in and be one with the meaning in the ceremony.

Again, he did nothing but watch as the painting began. Black covered white, numbers erased, company colors, erased. Very much so it felt like the death of his former existence, and indeed it was, for from this day forward, he would willingly don his new black armor himself. He would encase himself in a new mission, a new identity, and become a merciless machine, an angel of death to the dragon enemies of the Emperor, the Tyranid, the Orcs, and other xenos. His sole focus would be this, and it no longer mattered where he was from, or even who his gene-father was. Nothing else mattered.

A fatalistic stoicism dominated his gaze like a dark cloud as Aldaric suited up. It seemingly would have overtaken his persona ever afterward, had it not been for the look given him by his approaching new mentor, Brother Rathanael. The Consecrator's gaze locked onto his own, holding it, shattering it as Aldaric momentarily froze, the last fastening of his right Deathwatch pauldron held still in his hand. Aldaric blinked his biologic eye, finding himself suddenly freed from blindly following the path of the inevitable as he looked at his blood-brother in that ancient armor. Without words, a bond instantly formed between them, and he had been saved.

Aldaric paused, strangely heartened. Inside he knew, he felt it. He could now go forward with appropriate mind. Like the Angels of Absolution from which he hailed, he had no need to look back. "Loyalty and honor, Brother Rathanael." He said, expecting no response in return, and then he finally secured his new pauldron as the last piece of his armor.

[User]
Watching his armor being painted black was a strange sight for Sirren. To have his armor stripped of color so ceremoniously carried a significantly different context to a Son of Sanguinius, and he never thought that he would watch it be done in complete lucidity. It was a feeling something like dreaming; not unpleasant, but still unsettling. When that was done, he affixed his Deathwatch pauldron without any fanfare or ceremony. This was duty for him, not glory. His utmost goal was to survive and return to his chapter, where he could return to his much-needed services.

Much to his surprise, Sirren was appointed a Blood Angel to assist him in his transition into the Deathwatch. The forethought was well-appreciated by the Flesh Tearer, both in that he had been paired with a gene-brother, and that it had been a member of his magnanimous predecessor chapter. A fellow successor to the Blood Angels was like as not to be prejudiced against him, due to his chapter's savage reputation, but the Flesh Tearers and their parent chapter had been on good terms since the Conclave of Baal.

"Hail, Blood-Brother," Sirren greeted Brother Lartius in his harsh, muddy voice, "Frater Sanguinius has favored me this day by granting me your company and guidance." He approached the Deathwatch Veteran (who by his looks, was not yet as senior a marine as Sirren himself), his helmet slung under his arm. "My journey has been long," he said, in hushed tones so that only Lartius may hear him clearly, "Are there facilities in this fortress with which I may purify myself?" A vague question to any other marine, but the Blood Angel was likely to pick up on the subtext of Sirren's question.


[System]
Age: 12

Appearance: Black mid-length hair swept to one side, green eyes, a sarcastic smirk and a smug demeanor.

Personality: Terrance is good at pushing people's buttons. With a sarcastically smug attitude and a large vocabulary, he is an easy person to either like or hate. He doesn't generally try to irritate people...though when he sees someone whom he doesn't like, or just seems overly snappish, he generally will just for fun. He loves a good challenge, and when one comes up, his expression will change just a bit...his smirk will become less sarcastic and more predatory, his eyes will narrow, and he will try to beat that challenge by any means most expedient. He may also come across as cocky at times. These things said, he can be a good and loyal friend, and although he may seem like an annoying, self-centered SOB, you can rest assured that he has your best interests at heart...right beside his own. :) He prefers black muggle jeans and hoodie to robes, and will probably be seen in that attire often and/or under the robes.

History: Terrance Neston was born to a pureblood family, immersed in magic up to his eyeballs. His father was/is an Auror, and he commonly said that the only dark wizard he was ever likely to be unable to defeat was his mischievous son. Within hours of getting his wand after the letter arrived with his invitation to attend Hogwarts, Terrance had already made shooting harmless hexes at the cat his new favorite thing to do. The cat was appropriately scandalized, we presume it has since settled down in more public areas once again, instead of hiding in terror of its life under beds. His family was most eager to send the kid off to Hogwarts, and was looking forward to the letter arriving for a good time before it came...and after it did, for the term to start. And of course the first thing they did when the letter arrived was to get him his own cat...

Blood Status: Pureblood

Wand: 12.4 inch Oak, with a unicorn hair core.

Pet: A grey short-haired cat named Shade. Will look at you with equal parts dignity and scorn. Luckily Terrance liked him too much to start trying to hex him. Also likes Terrance, luckily.

[User]
Isaak chuckled trying to keep himself from bursting out laughing when Brynn thought of Hufflepuff as being an ideal house to be put into. He guessed that being raised by muggles didn't really help a child of magic learn what's what when it came to what houses mattered. Isaak didn't hate Hufflepuff, but it wasn't a house that he could see too many people being proud of. He was ambitious and being as good as possible was what drove him. He would become a great wizard and he would try to prove the stereotype of Slytherins turning out all bad completely wrong.

Isaak was about to speak up when the train came to a sudden halt and he almost fell out of his seat. Then the lights went out and the compartment was shrouded in darkness. Isaak was certain that this wasn't suppose to happen and he felt scared. He then heard screams coming from other parts of the train and this made him extra worried. What the bloody hell is going on?! he thought to himself almost frantically. Was the train now being attacked and then he remembered the break out in the news not too long ago. Could it be Death Eaters?

Isaak was about to take out his wand in preparation for an attack, but then there compartment slid open and a woman came in and cast a stun spell upon. Isaak was helpless as the woman grabbed Brynn to try and take her away. Isaak wanted to do something, but the effects of the spell wouldn't let him. Then he saw a flash of red light and headmistress McGonagal came into their compartment and lifted the spell. Isaak quickly got to his feet and was about to try and chase after the woman who had taken Brynn when the headmistress brought the girl back into the compartment before leaving again without a word. Isaak quickly moved over to her to check and make sure she was okay.

"Are you alright?! Those were Death Eaters! How the hell could have gotten on the train?!" he asked almost frantically. This whole incident had shaken him quite a bit and he wondered how parents and the ministry of magic would react to this.

@SouffleGirl123 @Weird Tales @BlackPanther @Dutchess Sarah

[Assistant]
Karen was about to respond to Bishop that a stubborn horse was actually comparatively more difficult than learning how to ride a broom when the trait abruptly screeched to a halt. The vehicle began shaking and Karen could only look around, wide-eyed and confused as to what was happening. The lights went dark a the sounds of students screaming pierced the air, accompanied by flashes of light.

She had suspicions on what was going on behind their compartment.

The people that escaped from the prison!

A shiver ran down her spine as she realized that this was a very, very dangerous situation. Her body began shaking in fear as Karen slowly inched away from the door, unable to think of anything else. That was when she caught sight of Bishop, crouched by the door and shaking. He was afraid, but still ready to confront whoever was there to threaten them. It was then Karen realized how despicable she was acting.

Karen pulled out her wand, a red rage building up inside her. How dare she! How dare she cower and hide without so much as trying!

No no no no NO! she roared internally, her ears pumping with blood. She was just so angry with herself right now!

The wand began to issue small sparks from its tips as Karen lost her cool and crouched right next to Bishop. Her eyes blazed and she had stopped shaking. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she readied her wand.

After awhile, things settled down, and it seemed the hijackers had been repelled. Karen settled back down into her seat, agitated, but not shaken - not anymore. She was too angry to be scared.

"Darn it all," she cursed. The incident had embedded itself into her memory - not for the terror it brought with it, but because it had made her feel so spineless, and she found that she absolutely loathed the feeling. "Never again, never again."

She looked up, finally feeling a little calmer. "How are you feeling, Bishop?" she said perfectly collected by now.

[User]
Bishop tensed up at the sound of his own name, "I'm fine, do you think the teachers dealt with whatever was going on?" He sat back in his seat but moved away from the window, he clearly thought that it wasn't over yet. Bishop locked his knuckles and looked down at his hands, trying to calm his nerves. He pressed his thumbs together and took in a shaky breath. He wondered if the attack on the train would mess up anything at the school, or that they might be late. Bishop began worrying about the possibility of getting kicked out of Hogwarts before he even set foot in the building.
What if I'm late because of this and then they won't think I'm good enough to be a wizard? What if they think this is all my fault because of my past? Different scenarios went through his head, scaring him even more than the thought of being murdered by a deatheater. Before he knew it, Bishop was shaking all over again. He didn't want to go back to the train yard scrounging for scraps, he didn't want every little thing to remind him of his dead brother, and he especially didn't want to go back to fending for himself.

[Assistant]
@SouffleGirl123 @Weird Tales @BlackPanther @Dutchess Sarah
Jay watches the others but then freezes getting a bad feeling. He slowly takes out his wand as jewel hisses. he doesn't like this feeling, not at all.
Then, the lights go out. Jay doesn't panic, instead he tries to do a luminous spell. He feels frustration well up as he cant remember how to say it correctly. He takes a deep breath and decides to remain in darkness. He slowly turns to face the doorway and whatever may happen next. Of course, he wasn't expecting what happened. He wasn't expecting a dea theater woman. And he definitly wasn't expecting to be hit with a spell. This causes jewel to react, she coils up hissing loudly her jaws open wide showing large fangs.
And then, it was all over. Jay shakes his head and picks up jewel trying to get her to calm down. Then before to the other side of Brynn seeing if she is okay.

[User]
@Weird Tales @BlackPanther @Dutchess Sarah
Brynn stared at them dumfounded. They weren't dead and they were worried about her. That was it, before she could stop then tears began making their way down her face. The whole experience was just too much to take in all at once.

"you're all alive?  She questioned in disbelief. To her it was some sort of mirical that they weren't hurt at all. She wiped her face off with her sweater sleeve, drying her tears before answering anyone. "I'm fine, really," Brynn said though she didn't know if that was entirely true. Aside from being confused and scared she was perfectly alright so it wasn't a lie.

She had no idea what a 'death eater' was but it sounded dumb. Who would think death sounded apatizing and what would they want with magic children. What would they want with her? She was nobody important, she didn't even know anyone important. She didn't even know how they could've gotten on the train or who they, the death eaters, even were.

[Assistant]
Watching her friend get dragged off like that, having to watch without being able to interfere, had scared Lavender. She had understood that Magic could be dangerous, when messed with. Her parents had made that abundently clear. But the dangers from those who used Magic to hurt others was something she had not considered before. The thought had frozen her in place, even after McGonnagal had lifted the spell.

Brynn's tears melted the remaining fear away, and Lavender realized that in giving it her all at Hogwarts, she could learn to defend herself and others against these Death Eaters. If anything else, this experience made her more determined to learn to master her powers and overcome her fear of her Magical life. She shook her head, almost as if she was shaking off the remainder of the stunning spell, and put an arm around Brynn's shoulders. "We're all fine, Brynn. Are you sure you are okay?"

Lavender looked at the faces surrounding her and realized she was not the only one who had been shaken up by this experience. "A little shaken up perhaps. It was scary, watching her drag you off like that and not being able to move a muscle. What did they want with you, anyway?" Lavender realised what she had said and blushed. "Oh, Gosh, I didn't mean it to come out like that... It's just that you seem like such a nice, innocent girl, and I can't understand why they targeted you."
She realized she wasn't helping herself and looked at the others for help.

@SouffleGirl123 @Weird Tales @BlackPanther

[User]
Karen closed her eyes to think. In all probability, the danger had now passed. "Yes, I think the teachers have seen to it already." Her pale little face scrunched up as she recalled her earlier failure. Once again, she reminded herself that she would never again let herself be conquered by fear. "I'm sure that we're all . . . safe now."

 Her words died down as she caught sight of Bishop, shaking more than ever. He looked frightened, and a panicked look had rooted itself in his eyes. Karen was at a loss for what to do. She had never encountered a situation like this before. It occurred to her that she might comfort him, but she didn't know how. She wasn't used to being the comforter, rather than the comforted. All the same, she would not allow herself to be inactive. Doing the first thing that came into her head, Karen stood up and switched seats, sitting besides Bishop. Once there she paused - her father had done this with her whenever she was sad, but she didn't know if it would help.

 She reached out her hand and patted Bishops head silently. Wordlessly, she stared Bishop in the eyes, unwavering and determined, all the while ruffling his hair.

[Assistant]
Charlyn Janel Avalon was shaking with her whole body. Only with force she got her teeth to stop banging against each other while her jaw went crazy in fear.

The danger was over. Or so it seemed. The dark wizards and witches seemed to have left and none of them even cared about her.

Charlie took a look at her great horned owl Rascal and he blinked at her. She smiled reassuringly. "We're not afraid. We're fine."

But she was afraid. She didn't even get to school yet and already something dangerous has happened. Her father will explode when he reads that in the daily prophet. He will probably command her to come home right now.

"I hope everything goes smooth now, Rascal. And maybe we can meet some friends. Learn some new things." Besides having still a little fear in her stomach she got excited for the year to start. Most of all, she was excited for the sorting hat to sort her into a house. She's played the moment with several old hats in her room when she was little. It's always been another house depending on her mood.

Charlyn smiled big. Her father told her a lot about the sorting hat because she wouldn't stop asking how things worked. She was so excited to see this famous hat herself.

[User]
Once Bishop felt Karen's hand on his head he couldn't help but smile.
"Is it really that obvious?" he asked, still looking down at his hands. "Or is this something you do with all your friends?" Bishop looked at Karen, less panicked but still anxious about God knows what. Veil popped her small head from out of Bishop's pocket, curious as to why he moved around so much. Bishop glanced away and focused his attention to the window, unsure of what else to say that wouldn't make him out to be a fool, although his actions have proved him foolish enough, at least, he thought that they did.

[Assistant] When the lights go out, Terrance is just a fraction of a second behind Cal in his own Lumos spell, looking outside through the other side of the door window. He looks just long enough to see the shadowy figures running around before he promptly steps back to the other side of the car, wand raised at the door. He didn't actually think he would be able to stand a chance against a real wizard...but hey, it was all he could really do...and his dad had taught him a shielding spell, so why not? Before long though, he sees a flash of red light through the window and hears someone walking briskly past. "Well, I'll give you one guess as to who might be attacking the Hogwarts Express...right after a related news article...for reasons beyond my comprehension...I do hope they aren't here for rich students' pocket money."