[System]
Nickname(Optional): Pfft, no.
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Physical Appearance: Of Average build with short dark hair, Neil isn't exactly the most unique specimen. He is fit but not noticeably so. He isn't big at all, but he is also not small. He has a face girls can find cute, but not exactly dreamy. Tanned skin and a ruddy complexion from all of the machine's he's worked on, coupled with the calluses on his hands gives him an experienced look despite the very youthful appearance he has. All in all, other than the twinkling of his eyes and the trademark grin, he is essentially average. He has dark eyes and very dark brown hair, enough to be considered black under most light. He's about 5'10 and 165 pounds.
Clothing: He often wears baggy pants, mostly military cargo. He likes to wear single colored T-Shirts. Usually he wears red.
Personality: Oh, now that is a question. To say Neil is eccentric is...well, that hits the nail on the head. Very good with hand-eye coordination, competent combatant, good engineer, and a daring pilot. But prone to sarcasm, snide remarks, unorthodox behavior, and just good old fashioned explosions. He's a born jokester, though behind his charming yet insufferable demeanor belies a certain intelligence, and to those he enjoys, he does tend to have a big heart.

[User]
Neil had managed to outmaneuver the one gunning for him, flanking his own team and dancing around the swinging clubs. He tried to get to his dropped shield, but it was too far across the field for him to make it to it just yet. "Yeah that does pose a problem," he replied as nonchalantly as he could to Sayeeda when he formed up with her again. Thankfully they had gotten the point with their quick thinking. A few of the others had noticed it too. One of the tribesman approached, and Neil held his club up defensively before he realized this one was on their team.

He attempted to speak to them, clicking his tongue and pointing his fingers. "Oh, cool." he sighed. At least this one wasn't ignorant there might be a language gap. From what Neil could gather, he and the other would head for the middle while Sayeeda was instrumental with going round the enemy team...probably. Neil gestured to himself, as if to say 'no shield' but the tribesman was already moving. Sighing, Neil headed off with him, straight into seeing the first death on the field. It was a man on their team who had been unlucky enough to be struck in the temple. Blood spittled out of his mouth and ears as he fell heavily onto the dirt.

"Ew," Neil stated, though he did his best to take advantage of the sudden pause from the death and furiously attack the one who killed him, swiping and thrusting his club instrument. The tribal player blocked with his shield, and then raised his own club to come crashing down on Neil. The Pilot instinctively thrust his hand out to catch the shaft, but no blow came. He saw the enemy tribesman gawking at his hand, and it was at that moment Neil realized the man saw the Xenos symbol that had been engraved on it.

Neil unceremoniously thwacked the guy on the head, knocking him out cold.

"And who said tattoos were poor choices?" the pilot quipped.

A garbled cry in the foreign language brought his attention to the ball suddenly flying over them like a freighter slingshotting around a moon. Neil leaped and knocked it, though it went wide and soared onto one of their foes's shields. Bouncing to the ground. Luckily, Junebug was close by. Neil cried out with his best tribal cry and sprang forward, trying to use his hand as a distraction do the warrior didn't knock the ball away before she could get to it.

Above them, the crowds cheered and hooted. The sun was at its zenith in the sky, and the onlookers began a strange, archaic song.

[Assistant]
Dashing the last few meters to the ball Junebug aimed a kick towards the basket. Before she could land it one of the enemy players smashed into her from the side sending her sprawling across the cobblestones. The world stuttered for a moment but she rolled to her feet in time to see the opponent racing down the field towards the basket. One of her team mates leaped onto the man's back bearing him down in a flurry of swinging fist and lashing feet. Pushing herself up she retrieved her staff in time to see another of her team kick the ball towards her in a long arc.

The song of the locals began to swell as the ball bounced before her. She swung her shield at it like a bat hammering it down field towards the basket. Howling with anger or excitement a massive man rushed at her. She thrust her staff like a spear into the fellows stomach setting her whole body against the weight. Even from a few feet away she heard the air rush from his lungs as the point took him beneath the sternum and he twisted sideways vomiting messily.

At the other end of the field a ruck had formed around the ball, which evidently had not gone in where locals clubed and kicked at each other in frantic excitement. Cursing under her breath Junebug saw Neil leap into the fray. Rushing down the field she drew her shield up in front of her intending to smash into the ruck, but quite suddenly the ball shot from the fracas and into the basket like a pit shooting from a namas fruit. They crowed roared and a bass gong sounded somewhere up on the zigguurat. As though someone had flicked a light switch the brawl ceased. The gong sounded again louder and more insistent. Junebug slowed to a cautious walk, uncertain if this was part of the game or if something had gone wrong.

[User]
The smell of sweat and blood nearly overpowered Neil's senses in the brawl, and though he was stronger than he looked, the men around him were combat trained and used to intense physical warfare. He felt like he was knocked about a bit too much, and was just lucky enough to not get anything more than a glancing blow as of yet, but that would change sooner rather than later if the ball didn't get free. So using his monkey-like dexterity, instead of attacking the men head on, he decided to duck under the melee and trip the tribesmen up as best he could until he paved a way toward the ball.

"Shit!" He cried when he saw a club aiming for him, and he dived downward. His head had escaped the club only to knock against the ball with a loud 'thunk.' To say he was light headed after the diving strike to his cranium was an understatement, but perhaps the Gods were watching, for the ball shot out and into the goal.

The next thing Neil knew were rough hands grabbing him, dragging his limp body out of the dying quagmire and into the light. The pilot had a welt on his head and a very ill favored, near unconscious look. But he was alive, and the cheers erupted for both he and Sayeeda for their exceptional teamwork. He was too far off to see, but the servant woman was in awe at his Radifiri skills, biting her lip and gazing hungrily. However the celebration was not long lasting, as the men dragging him set him on his rump across the field with what was left of his team and Junebug, and a Shaman with the same manner of dress as Wetumpkah emerged, stalking across the field. His very presence demanded the game end and the tribesmen prostrating with respect.

"Who is that?" Neil asked tiredly, holding his head.

The Shaman stalked up the central stairway of the Ziggarut, followed by three other Shamans in succession. Wetumpkah greeted them in the traditional manner, and quick words were exchanged. Pointing at the mountains, and at Neil and Sayeeda, there were gasps from the accompanying Shamans. Neil would have made a jibe at their popularity, but at the moment he would have rather a plasma gun incinerate his head.

[Assistant]
Junebug stood beside Neil leaning on her staff. She was keyed up, way too keyed up, and her skin prickled with adrenaline. After years of action her body was struggling to separate the stimuli of games from the stimuli of war. It made her queasy and made her palms itch for a weapon. Sweat glistened on her body despite several attempts to wipe it away with the cloak of feathers she had been given, the material was just not adsorbent enough to do the job.

"Haven't a clue but I don't like the smell of it," she commented glancing around at the locals. Their faces seemed to be mixed between confusion and fear, not a particularly good sign for a celebration. The Shaman were gesticulating at each other now, more agressive now that the traditional forms of greeting had been expended.

"...honor of our...not you..." angry semi intelligent voices sounded in Junebug's ear. Her face blanked to the neutral expression she wore when she was confused before she realised that Taya, still seated by the Wetumpkah had activated her implant and was transmitting the conversation to her.

"I like, really don't like where..." Junebug began as she tried to parse the archaic language but before she could finish the thought Wetumkah shot to his feet and struck one of the other shaman across the face with a full armed blow. The servant girl, apparently taking a moment away from mooning over Neil, screamed as another of the shaman drew a dagger of some sort of black volanic glass from his robes and lunged at Wetumpkah.

"Break! Taya get clear!" Junebug shouted, trusting her military grade radio to squash the girls more ornate but less powerful civilian model. The teir of the Zigguarat was descending into a chaos of flying crockery and flailing fists. Cries of horror and outrage gripped the crowd as half the men rushed towards the base of the pyramid and the other half tried to flee into the low structures of the village. Whether by luck or bad timing a score of warriors trotted from the treeline in full ceremonial war gear. The doubtless had intended to take part in the games but seeing their Shaman under attack rushed towards the villagers, flinging spears and screaming guttural war cries. Junebug hardly had time to pivot and duck behind her shield, covering Neil as well before the flight of missiles plunged down one slamming into her shield with a musical thunk.

"Go go go!" Junebug yelled, tossing aside her staff and plucking the spear from the shield. Both of their weapons were on the top tier with Taya and the stars alone knew whether the girl would think to grab them. Even as she spoke a disorganized group of native warriors with bone swords and rock clubs rushed from the huts to crash into the interlopers. This was going to get really messy.

[User]
Neil was covered in dirt, tired, and still extremely woozy from the blow to the head. But he blinked rapidly, doing his best to gather himself up, comically confused at the sudden eruption of violence. He stood up to his full height as another volley of javelins flung above and past his head, seemingly oblivious to the danger. He placed a hand over his eyes as he gazed up at the ziggurat, squinting. "So what's happening?"

He was subsequently yanked by Junebug out of the field as the tribesmen charged through it, clashing against the forces of the other tribesmen. Neil's brow furrowed in confusion, before Sayeeda screaming for him to get in shape somehow brought a tingling from his palm, which somehow jolted his system and brought him back to focus. He parted from her and gave a steadying breath. "I uh..." he said, running a hand through his hair. "I can get our weapons and Taya." He told her. "I know how to duck and dodge my way through shit. You watch my back."

With that, the chaos of the warriors and the screaming non combatants on the stands would have daunted most anyone. But the crew of the Highlander were made of sterner stuff. Neil knocked aside a warrior's whose back was turned, and as Junebug finished him off, Neil held his palm up to distract another warrior before he took his javelin and ran him through. It was when they broke through the line that it was a bit less dangerous, though still confusing as all hell.

Neil leaped and vaulted up the stairs, yanking people off balance or out of the way and almost snake-like slipping through the crowd until he made it to the top with Junebug close behind, a few steps down. Wetumpkah had a nasty gash on his forehead, and the other Shamans seemed none the better. One of them was now dead, a dagger in his gut. Neil wasn't a political scientists, but this probably meant war so it was best to get the hell out of here.

"Neil!" Taya called. She was on the ground, her legs scraped as if she had been roughly shoved. Thankfully she wasn't hurt, or worse, kidnapped and violated like he suspected would be a captured woman's fate. He dove around the Shamans, banging his knee but finding his balance and stumbling over to Taya, helping her up. "Where's the guns?" he asked her, and she nodded at the items below the wooden seats the nobility used. Neil grabbed ahold of his pistol and tossed Junebug her sidearm. It was good timing, because he suddenly felt healthy and supple arms cling to him, and the assistant woman was probably begging him to save her.

"No no, he'll only kill you!" Neil yelled, as slowly as he could (like that would help her understand).

"You!" Wetumpkah cried, pointing at Neil above the brawl. "Starman! She is mine by right!"

"I don't claim anyone!" Neil cried, picking up Taya by sweeping her off her feet, not exactly having the means to keep the buxom assistant away from him as he leaped down the stairs. Somehow the assistant kept up as she made it down there, and Neil was wondering for the first time if she had been mistreated here with Wetumpkah.

Fuck it, not my call. I'm the pilot. Neil shot at a tribesman, the gunfire cracking so loudly a few of the tribesmen cried out in surprise and anguish.


[System]
* Age: 16
* Gender: Female
* Appearance: A perfectly ordinary witch. Also like 4'9
* Canon, AU, or OC?: Canon
* Universe of Origin: Touhou Project
* Personality: Kirisame Marisa is a frequent liar and kleptomaniac. She'll steal anything that looks interesting or useful, provided it's not nailed down, and she'll even steal abilities from people she's met. She's also nearly always cheerful, always interested in a fight, friendly or otherwise, and an incredibly hard worker. To master the magic she has, she needed to train for a very long time. For some reason she doesn't like talking about how hard she works, but it's likely that most of her life was spent doing so. Marisa is also very proud of being the "Second best in Gensokyo" to Reimu, as well as being a good thief.
* Abilities/Weapons: Capable of flight and danmaku use, spellcards listed here. She's also a pretty fancy thief, and carries around what's known as the mini-hakkero for doing magic. Her biggest, hardest hitting spells are all variants on "Master Spark", a massive beam of magic. Danmaku is non-lethal but can damage objects, but lethal versions of some spells are possible.
* Backstory: Marisa is a proud incident-resolver of Gensokyo, and has participated in the resolution of various incidents. After finding a gate in her closet, she realized she could pass back and fourth between universes. Studying this, she discovered a modification to her base Master Spark could open up portals, and promptly decided to make ventures into the multiverse to steal things and have fun.
* Faction: Factionless.

[User] [WRONG THREAD]

[Assistant]
Cinder Fall, Museum

Cinder grunted as she watched her arrows have little effect on the thing that had attacked her. Well, that was a problem. It seemed that she would have to get serious if she was going to make them pay for attacking her like this.

...Or perhaps not, as she watched the traitors beat a hasty retreat, at last realizing how outgunned they were. She would have felt satisfied if it weren't for the fact that they had stolen the throne that she had come here for. Most likely without good intentions for it in mind. It was enough to get her blood heated in annoyance.

Still, she supposed she should help Kiba before the idiot got himself killed, though taking a few seconds to heal some more couldn't hurt. Those plasma burns were a nuisance at best, even with a healing ability augmented by Dust and Aura.

She'd gotten back on her feet before she noticed the interloper, and just as the sound of a gunshot rang out. Her bow split back to swords as she slashed horizontally, aiming to knock the ribbon off course with the impact whilst flipping over it at the same time in moves that sent jagged spikes of pain through her muscles in protest. A dodge was a dodge though, and she came up as she slowly advanced towards the Faunus with swords held almost casually now.

"Well well, what have we here," she mused to herself with a smirk, which was not helped by the still healing plasma burns. "Blake Belladonna." Not her version given her current garb, but it was possible that she was going easy on her. Which was a mistake, but one could always fault heroes for stupidity.

At the same time, she snapped her fingers, the trio of Beowolves returning to her side to face down Blake, snarling and eager to kill. This was going to be an interesting fight, that much she could tell.

[User]
Lower Yggdrasil - Shady Clinic/Crime Scene

Three things stood out to Gerhard when the local constabulary arrived. Number one was their dress and equipment, the like of which he had never seen before. He watched them seal off the building from outside with yellow tape, and a man with a box walked about taking what he could only assume was pictures. Their manner was strange as well, in that they hadn't beaten him and carted him off yet. He'd been bracing himself for a knock about, but they seemed content to shackle him and post guards upon his surrender, a pair of large men holding nasty looking metal stick that crackled occasionally with electricity. They watched him like hawks as he sat on the sidewalk, primed to take him down should he even think about suddenly changing his mind.

The seconds thing he noticed was when a nice, smart looking young officer ran from the building and deposited his lunch and probably last nights dinner on the ground. Pale faced he took one look at Gerhardt and wandered out of the alley to catch some air. Gerhardt grimaced when he imagined what that young man must think of him after seeming that mess in the elevator. At least the blood on his clothes had completely faded. That, at least, made him feel less dirty. But even the other officers, veterans from the look of it, seemed wary of him. He heard one of them refer to him as "a real Outworld style butcher," whatever that meant. Things like this didn't happen often in this place.

Third was, of course, that anyone had shown up at all.

To him this all but proved his hypothesis: this was another world. Truly another world, not just another blood soaked nightmare like what he was used to. This was polite society. They did not stand for what he had done in there in polite society. He would perhaps hang for this, but that was not important. What was important was getting someone to listen, and they were more likely to listen if he cooperated. So far as he could tell this world was unspoiled, and that was worth anything to protect.

He saw the man that had ordered him shackled step outside the clinic, rubbing his temple with his fingers, and called out, "Sir, about the plague..." but the man just held up a hand to silence him. "Inter-dimensional diseases are above my pay grade. We got someone from the UMMA coming, you can explain it all to them."

[Assistant]
@Flamelord

Kanji Tatsumi, Museum

After making his way off of the ship Kanji enters the museum just in time to see someone teleport away. Where did he go? BANG! Kanji ducks behind a pillar and watches as Cinder flips though the air and then snaps her fingers to call big wolf creatures to her side. Kanji rushes over to Blakes side, gets in a fighting pose by raising his steel plate and facing Cinder. "I got your back."

[User] As much as Kiba would like an extended close quarters combat, he still has to take into account practically everything else going on. He might as well attempt to be practical. From his left palm came two dark red blasts of energy, aimed not at her, but at the ground. The blasts threw up dust and debris. He then darts forward and at the last moment, dashes to his left and maneuvers around to get behind her. He lunges forward with his blade pointing toward his opponent. It was a rather obvious tactic, admittedly, but hopefully something that would give him the initiative.

[Assistant]
Saber - The Council Tower

Saber paused for a moment when Gintoki spoke up. Yes... if she had not been preoccupied, she would indeed have proceeded to the site of the murder and attempted to discern what had happened, and stop the killer if they were still present. But here, she knew another agent would find out... and for now, well, to be so directly summoned by the council, it had to have been some important matter. There was no denying it. An agent had quite a bit of freedom, but a council summon meant that only a serious matter was occurring.

At the end of the hallway, the triangular door slide open. Within, was the council chamber. Every agent had meant the council directly. They were figures from across the multiverse, many former agents themselves, who had made their way to the council in service of the UMMA. Ideally, they governed the Agency as a military intended to prevent harm rather than a governing body. Their only offer to the administrated worlds was protection. Resources were obtained by the founding worlds of the UMMA, the riches of multiple universes handily providing even for such a huge organization. Universes could also volunteer their services, in much the way that an agent could volunteer. This was the reason why some places had UMMA bases or mining operations even if they were not the founding universe.

There were times when the system had failed, when extremists with totalitarian ideals had ascended to the council and attempted to conquer rather then offer protection, for what they believed was the greater good. However, the current council was respectable and dedicated to the ideals held by the UMMA.

To offer protection, to interfere only when absolutely necessary, to leave administrated worlds protected, but free.

There were dozens of members. The most recognizable was an elderly man, who appeared well into his nineties. Tadroth of Lodria, he was called, and in reality he was far older then that. He had sharp blue eyes and a long grey beard, with weathered-looking skin. He was the oldest member of the council as of now. Beside him to the right sat an older woman, in her sixties, with a thing build, dark eyes, and graying black hair. Her name was Moira Adelforth. Finally, the third of the most public of the councilers was a much younger-looking figure, an almost ethereal white-haired girl. She was a being drawn from the Akashic Records of a long-dead world, and went simply by the name of Monument.

There was, however, another figure, standing central to the room. Saber paused for a moment. She recognized the Councilers, yes, but who was this? She looked like a child. Saber knew not to assume based on her appearance, but still, who was she? A blonde(her hair almost as pale as Monument's) young girl, with deeply pale skin, crimson eyes, and an elaborate dress...

"Ah, welcome, loyal agents of the UMMA," began Tadroth, his withering voice still filled with a deeper strength, "We have called you here for an important mission. We believe that this girl's world may hold something of vital importance to our conflict with the terrorist organization, Shadow Eternity. I will allow her to explain, first."

The girl gave him a quick smile and stepped forward. In that moment, Saber caught a glimpse of something that made her realize exactly what the girl was. A pair of sharp little fangs.

"Hello," the girl began, holding her hands behind her back and leaning forward slightly, "I'm grateful to Mister Tadroth for letting me talk, but he got some things wrong! I'm no mere girl..."

Her smile grew as she straightened, still clasping her hands behind her back, "I am Queen Isabella Danielle Valeria Katherine Tepes, Monarch of the Dark World of Nox, and I have need of the loyal Knights of the UMMA!"

For a few moments, there was silence. Saber took a small breath before speaking her confusion. After all, well...

"I am afraid I am the only knight present," she said, simply. Truly, she was still unsure of why any of them had been selected, but it seemed as if the girl had only wanted knights... For what reason did she only desire knights? Why is that all a vampire would want? Was it because of her nature as royalty?

The Queen Tepes pouted, crossing her arms across her chest, "I was trying to make it sound more dramatic then just 'agents'. Don't take it so seriously! Hmph."

Kirisame Marisa – Battle Frontier

Well, that was that! Hah, Kakine was even helping her get away clean! This was going to be a pretty awesome theft... when she could figure out how to make this thing fly, at least. She quickly followed Misaka, and watched as the other girl activated some kind of moving floor. That seemed to be the secret to flight! It launched Misaka off into the distance, and from what Marisa could tell the other girl was now flying manually. The problem was getting to that herself, she definitely couldn't fly on her own and use this at the same time, so she figured that the suit's flying thingies would have to kick in... or something. She didn't know how it worked.

Still, stepping onto the moving floor was pretty awesome. It just launched her right on forward! ... And now she was in the air... and... and not falling!

... It wasn't unfamiliar to the Perfectly Ordinary Witch, of course, and to be frank it felt a bit clunky to her compared to flying on her own. But still, she got to take the suit out with her, and now she was quickly flying after Misaka.

Black Rock Shooter - Client World 576143290-B

Black Rock Shooter paused for a moment when she heard the girl mention a gate. Yes... that meant that she could leave, and continue to pursue Dead Master. It also meant that these others would be safe, and would no longer need any aid. The otherself could easily continue her mission without any hesitation. She turned away from the oasis and approached, her incredibly pale skin almost seeming to glow in the light of the sun. As hot as it was, the black-haired girl did not feel anything more then severely uncomfortable. The sun could not harm her skin, as she was not a normal living thing. The embodiments of emotions and psyche simply did not follow the same rules as many other beings did.

The blonde girl thought deeply for a few moments. It was difficult for her to recall, but...

"... I... think... it was made of metal? And it was... deeper inside... Under... I was brought here through it, because they wanted to... something," she frowned for a moment, and shrugged, "... If where I was... was underground... maybe the gate's underground too?"

Dlanor A. Knox – The Museum World

Dlanor was unimpressed when the armored man attempted to use a debris cloud to block her vision. Of course, she had dealt with similar tactics before. She had even had her eyes cut out on one occasion. Even if the Red Key suffered under more limitations outside of her home universe, there was no way such a simple scheme would halt her execution. If she had guessed properly, his next attack would likely come from behind.

Sure enough, as the Executioner of Heaven turned, there he was, leaping towards her with a blade outstretched. Dlanor swiftly raised her golden arm, and there was a clang as the gauntlet struck the blade to deflect it. Without pause, she raised the Red Key and thrust the crimson blade of energy towards him, aiming for his midsection.

Dlanor could not help it, her catlike smile spread into a grin.

The Leader - Shadow Eternity Headquarters

"... Ah."

The Leader took a deep breath, and rose from her seat. This was... somewhat awkward, she had to confess. Shadow Eternity's recruitment strategies generally ran along lines of 'whoever is willing and unlikely to be bothered if they have to use extreme force to achieve their objective', and with all the Leader's duties she had not personally met everyone who worked under her. This was an awkward moment where, well, it was clear the ork was expecting something far different than herself.

"I apologize for having not met you personally," she began, "But the individual you seek is me. I am the Leader of Shadow Eternity."


[System]
Age: 21

Gender: Male

Race: Markhor (Goat) Faunus

Weapon: The Blunderbuster Full Package - Kiran's weapon of choice is a multifaceted and versatile weapon. It allows him to survive at mid to close range, obliterate at mid to close range, and devastate at mid to close range. Truly a weapon designed for any situation, at mid to close range.

Fundamentally the weapon consists of 3 different configurations. The first, and most common method of use, is a sword and gauntlet configuration. The sword, dubbed Sharaman, is a simple blade of dussack design. Essentially it is a long piece of silver metal with a slightly curved edge that wraps around at the bottom to form a hand guard of sorts. Part of the metal is covered in cloth to serve as a hilt.

The gauntlet on the other hand, named Mehri, is far more elegant in design. It is made up of many intricately detailed metal plates, almost scale like in appearance, the run up the length of his forearm stopping just short of his elbow. His fingers are covered in a claw like metal, allowing him to easily grip into rough surfaces. The metal is mostly silver in colour although the calligraphic inscriptions have a rust like colour to them.

The 2nd configuration involves Sharaman transforming into a flintlock blunderbuss. With a mostly rust like colour, and the metal appearing almost wood like in places, the blunderbuss appears akin to blunderbusses from the 18th century. However while it appears old the technology has been updated for modern day, allowing for Kiran to load it like a modern double barrelled shotgun. In terms of ammunition, it is loaded with many small dust infused lead balls, making it function best in close range. In addition Kiran is capable of modifying the dust rounds, most often employing the four basic colours of dust: fire, ice, wind and lightning. Mehri remains untransformed in this configuration.

The final configuration has both Mehri and Sharaman combine into a massive great sword known simply as the Blunderbuster Sword. All ideas of elegance and intricacy are thrown aside to produce a blade that is simply really, really big. Well over 2 meters in length, the sword towers over every other blade and student in the academy. Indeed, in all his years both at the academy and outside, Kiran has never seen a larger sword. It essentially amounts to one long dual edged blade with a two handed hilt attached. It is also capable of channeling dust rounds, allowing it to catch on fire for instance.

Specialty: Despite the size and heft of his massive sword, years of training and well tuned muscles have enabled Kiran to remain unperturbed by the size and bulk of his sword. A weapon that most people who have trouble lifting, yet alone wielding, fits deftly in Kiran's hand as he blitzes across the battlefield with it. As one can imagine, his weaponry and semblance allow for high damage output to any number of enemies at mid to close range.

In his different configurations Kiran achieves a few different roles, with configuration one acrobatics are the name of the game, and he uses his superior speed and agility to vault over and engage multiple enemies in combat, or serve in a more defensive role using his gauntlet to deflect attacks. In his second configuration, Kiran uses his blunderbuss to provide a little bit more range to his normal tactics, and take out multiple enemies with a single shot. Of course this does require him to have his enemies neatly clumped for his convenience.

It's his third configuration that speaks closest to his heart. While he may not be able to maintain the same level of acrobatics in this form as his others provide, Kiran does not hesitate to use his mighty blade to cut through the swaths of enemies that plague him and his team. He deals mighty blows to all that would stand in his way, or stands fast in the path of hordes of enemies. Indeed when his semblance is not active, his massive Aura reserves do grant him a fair degree of defense. Whether he's remaining fast or steadfast, Kiran diligently plays out his role as the Berserker and Tank in combat.

Of course, he's always stuck at mid to close range, and flying enemies are usually out his reach.

Usually.

Semblance: The Prince of Sand - Kiran's semblance enables him to enter a berserker state that not only enhances his physical traits, strength, speed, endurance, durability, etc, but also dulls him to all feelings of pain. To accomplish this state, Kiran draws his aura within him, which, while increasing his natural defenses to be stronger than normal skin, does leave him more prone to potential injury as he no longer possesses the standard aura defense.

However the gains in speed, endurance and strength, nearly triple of his standard, more than make up for this deficit. As this form relies on his aura it can only last for so long. However it does start to rapidly increase in power just as he hits the red zone. Damage sustained while in this form also knocks his aura lower, and ones fully depleted he is forced out and left exhausted.

One last trick of this form is the ability to infuse himself with dust rounds right as he enters the form. This can allow him to catch on fire, or for each of his attacks to contain an undercurrent of lightning. He can only utilize one dust property at a time, and is unable to switch while in this form. Typically, off a full aura bar, Kiran is able to stay in this form for only about 20 minutes. It should be noted however that Kiran can push himself further, however any damage he takes from that point on comes with the risk of severe, permanent injury.The longer he stays in the form, the more strain placed on his body that will cause severe injury.

In terms of appearance, Kiran's skin greatly darkens, becoming black as coal. However this is interspersed by glowing slivers of a rust colour. Forming intricate circles and swirls down the length of his body. If he infused his form with dust, then some of these lines are replaced with glowing dust of that colour.

Personality: Kiran has been raised to follow a certain set of virtues, a creed of sorts. It is by these virtues that he lives his life. The first is strength, not just physical strength, but the strength to remain steadfast in the face of oppression. The strength to firmly fight for what is right, and never back down to injustice. The strength to protect one's comrades and the strength to protect all those in need. Without strength, Kiran can not be of any use.

The next is loyalty, to remain loyal to one's friends, allies, comrades and virtue. Without loyalty, one is but a fickle leaf in the wind, blowing from one master to another. A lack of loyalty leaves one hollow inside. Yet it is not just an idea of remaining loyal to people, but rather the virtues that drew Kiran to those people in the first place, if need be he will fight till they remember what is right. His loyalty extends to ensure that his friends remain on a just path. This is closely tied with the third virtue of honour, and ensuring that he conducts himself in a manner befitting of a true warrior at all times.

The fourth virtue is humility. Kiran makes sure to always remember that he is but one piece of a much larger puzzle. That to grow in arrogance, is to forsake others and harm them in the process. As a result, he has a large degree of respect for all living things: Humans, Faunus, plants, animals and yes, even Grimm. However respect should not be confused with kindred connection or naivete, for Kiran is quite aware of the evil nature of Grimm. Instead his respect comes from an understanding that they are powerful beings worthy of caution. In a similar manner, Kiran holds the highest degree of respect for all those who have faced him in battle, regardless of whether they won or lost. In fact he makes a point to memorize the faces of all Humans and Faunus he has faced.

However despite these creeds, which are more of personal code then anything and not one to be enforced on others, Kiran is not as serious a person as one might suspect. He enjoys conversing with others and these creeds are merely for emphasis on internal self improvement. He snarks at dumb ideas, cracks a few bad jokes of his own, and is more than willing to dispense advice when asked. It is when in battle though, that he is at his most vivid. It's not uncommon to hear him shouting and urging his opponent to fight harder, in fact there have been many times when he has outright given advice to his opponents in hopes of bettering them. The thrill of battle is most definitely something Kiran lives for. Still, talking to him will reveal a young man of reasonable intelligence, decent charisma, and strong understanding of what it means to fight smart. Unless completely consumed by battle, Kiran's virtues keep him from being reckless.

Color: Rust (Hex Code #B7410E)

Emblem: A massive rust colored sword, blade down, fading into the sands.

Appearance: Kiran stands fairly tall, at 6'4'' and every ounce of him is well toned muscle. However this is not necessarily something that is immediately apparent, as his muscle isn't all that bulky. His skin is a light olive colour signifying the generations that lived in the hot deserts of Vacuo. He has dark brown hair that protrudes out of the long flowing turban he wears, underneath turban however are tiny goat horns, signifying his Faunus nature. Similarly he generates much of his speed and power from goat legs generally hidden under his long pants. In terms of his uniform he wears it prim and proper, however his actual combat gear is much more practical.

[User]
Cian Kuze -Crossroads of A Brewing Storm

"The answer button is flashing and I really don't think that we caused that to happen when opening the gate." Cian said as she looked around. Grimm was not smart enough to lay a trap this over the top where things would be this serious. "I honestly believe that someone is trying to contact us if we go by the flashes that can be interpreted as morse code. So what is the plan of action we can press the button that most people would say not to push. Or we can ignore the flashing that is probably morse code and potentially leave a survivor behind I am not going to allow something like that to happen though so what is your take on the events at hand?" Cian asked as she looked at the people gathered this was serious or for her it was there was a potential survivor alive so her honest opinion was to press the answer button to see if it was a mistake or someone is trying to contact them. Either way time was ticking by and that probably wasn't a good thing.

[Assistant]
Luke Schwarz -- Semantics

?
???

"I don't think the flashing's what we can interpret as Morse Code here." he responded, bemusement evident in his hushed tone. "Rather, if anything was, it'd have to be the tapping."

The flashing light was almost certainly a regular interval to catch the eye, anyway, and there was much less reason to suspect the flashing of an answer button, of all things, to be in Morse. Why waste the time when the people on the other end could just pick up? It wasn't a concept that made sense to him.

Then again, neither did half of the things he had now learned over the course of one week, but he digressed. Focusing purely on the topic at hand, he found such a situation to be extremely unlikely. However, the general gist of her message, those details aside, was one he agreed with: The button had to have been flashing because someone from the inside was making a cry for help, a cry that they as hunters, as good people, couldn't afford to turn a blind eye to.

"But, yeah. I think that means there are people trapped inside we need to save."

A little firmer this time.

---

Sterling Johnson -- Defending a Caravan (and teammates)

"Thanks, babe!" called the Atlesian bruiser as he hit the vehicle feet-first, Aura's natural protection dampening the shock and allowing him to whirl about-face, just in time to notice that, oh shit, two of his teammates were in a bad way!

Luckily, that's what he was here for.

Silvery wrist joint disconnecting, his hand hung in that familiar downward position as instinct guided his aim. Loaded with rounds of Fire Dust, the twenty-something looked to make an impression upon the Tutankhamen's back.

THOOOM!

And so, he delivered, barking an order suggestion at his other Faunus teammate over both his shoulder and the rushing wind, even as the massive incendiary round sailed downrange.

"ESTELLE, GRAB SARINA!"

[User]
Kiran Ali Khan - Package Secure, En route to Rendezvous Point

Kiran was not one to judge so readily, for while the initial encounter pointed towards a lethargic and lazy being, one with little care in the way of her personal appearance or indeed the impressions she gave off, Kiran refrained from jumping the gun on any potential assumptions. Engaging in such an act would be highly disrespectful of his new teammate's potential character, and Kiran always strove to ensure respect. Thus for the time being, Kiran simply filed away his observations to await a later date when he had acquired all the pieces of the puzzle.

Yet despite his silent observations, Kiran did not miss a beat in the conversation, replying with a gentle smile to Noelle's first remark. "I appreciate the compliment, I'm quite grateful to my name as well. One of the many things my parents did well, and yes I am the 'boss-man' of the group." During his reply, and indeed his lengthy explanation in general, Kiran couldn't help but take note of his teammate's frequent glances at his turban.

Then again, I suppose visitors from Haven don't have the opportunity to see those of with blood from Vacuo all that frequently. It's no surprise that she's a little curious.

It was Noelle's humble request at the end of his explanation that served to elicit a slight chuckle from Kiran. If the huntress simply wanted a refill then it was his job as team leader to oblige, "I suppose it's only fair I grab you a drink, I am the one robbing you of rest after a no doubt tiring flight, I'm sure fighting was the last thing you desired on arrival. Thus if a drinks all you require, I'll be happy to oblige. After the mission, drinks are on me."

"Oh and Kiran is fine," the sword-wielding Hunter responded with a hearty grin, as the two made their way towards the airship, "But if you'd rather call me Khan that's fine too, I'm not particular. Oh and the mission is a fairly straight forward one: Spider Grimm, Ozpin wants us to sneak in and simply subdue the beast. Unfortunately, knowing us, Taidan will probably setting the whole place on a fire and the Grimm will probably be chopped up into a thousand little pieces."

Once more a slight chuckle escaped Kiran's lips, "You'll quickly learn that stealth and Team Canvas don't exactly go hand in hand. Just like Taidan and restraint do not mix. If you've got any further questions don't hesitate to ask, and yes," Kiran appended without missing a beat, "I am aware that I talk far too much."


[System]
Gender: Male

Age: 16

Appearance:

Background: Hal comes from a well-to-do family, his father a successful writer and his mother a lawyer. Naturally, Hal was exposed heavily to philosophy as a child, but tries to escape his parents' shadow. Instead of making well-educated decisions, Hal likes to plunge headlong into the unknown, constantly testing his limits. He knows where he stands with his parents, and tries not to overstep them too much, but is nevertheless very impulsive and intelligent.

Relations: TBD

Power:

[User]
Oblivious to the drama ensuing around him, Hal triumphantly finished his test. He slid it on Om's desk, gave him a smile, and bolted out the door without saying a word. He didn't want to draw too much attention, he'd been extremely late after all.

Hal slid into the hallway, noticing other students who'd finished their test waiting out there. He recognized most of them; Richard, Mina, Sophie. Good, he thought. At least I won't have to head down alone. Not knowing any of them well enough to call them friends, Hal certainly appreciated them now, he hated showing up to lunch alone. He decided to wait in the hallway until the rest of them went down, and he'd follow, blended in the crowd.

[Assistant]
Micky felt a little bit of relief when Alden didn't mind him joining, but he wasn't all that fond of asking 'Icy'. But, micky had to do what he had to do, even if that meant succumbing to some criticism or rejection. Micky couldn't hesitate more than the few seconds he already had so he just decided to ask. Micky took in a silent yet prolonged breath, and began to speak.

"You thin--" Micky began, but almost immediately being cut off by the end of the class.

Micky looked at Mina as she walked away, obviously heading to her next class. Micky wasn't going to chase down the Ice queen just to join a History group, the possible outcomes of which were most definitely not worth it. Micky let out his breath and watched as the two students walked out of the room.

"I guess that's that." Micky said silently to himself. All of the students were already out of the classroom by now, so Micky then left too. Micky walked down the hall opposite the direction in which the majority of the class went, instead Micky headed towards the gymnasium. Earlier in the year, when students were picking their electives, Micky had decided to be more healthy and loose some weight in the process. Back then, he thought it was the perfect choice, Physical Education and Health. Looking back, he realized that the decision he made wasn't as thought out has he'd previously assumed. Phys. Ed wasn't an easy class for someone of Micky's weight, regardless though, Micky promised himself he'd never fall into a positions where someone would make fun of his weight, even if that meant pushing his body to the limits for months on end.

Micky showed up to Gym in his usual gym cloths. Coloured mesh shorts, with a grey shirt that had the School's logo and name in a darker color. Luckily it was a Thursday, so Micky didn't really have to worry about exercising to much. Usually towards the end of the week (Thursday and Friday), the teacher will play a game with the class that usually has more to do with thinking and planning, rather than physical feats.

Micky heard the bell and realized the class was over. Usually Micky waits for the bell to ring but when you're actually having fun, time flies.

"Take 6 laps and then you're good to go!" The teacher yelled through the gym.

Micky let out a sigh followed by a whispered, "...shit." Drenched in sweat, Micky 'hit the showers' and put on his regular clothes.

"First half down, one more to go..." Micky said to himself as he made his way through the halls back to his locker.

[User]
Thursday March 21st, 2016

Mina nearly died of a heart attack when Alden and The Slow Test-Taker backed her up. She was grateful, but she couldn't show it, of course.

After she decided that the silence was affecting her doodling, she stepped out of the classroom to lean against the wall and draw. Mina only noticed The Signing Girl when she pulled up her phone and make it speak in that annoying voice. Princess... is she trying to tell me I'm Elsa from Frozen? She sighed. Ugh, princess. Why do girls like them anyway?

"Not drawing, doodling," she said, without looking up. When she finished drawing the last squiggle she held it up again. It still wasn't very good, but she was fine with it. She put back the notebook in her bag and took a drink out of her water bottle. She hated water fountains because she always had to wait.

The Signing Girl was still standing next to her. What does she want? Mina looked around and noticed The Signing Boy reading. She turned back around and started to walk towards the cafeteria.

On the way there, she bumped into The Boy With the Book when he came out of the washroom.

"Sorry," She mumbled. Why am I apologizing? This isn't like me...

She noticed blood on his hand. "Oh! Are you okay?" Crap. I just said that out loud.

[Assistant]
Thursday March 21st, 2016

Largent glowered at nothing. The halls were empty and only the echoes of his footsteps gave any indication that there was life in the school. The old building was so sturdily built that even with classrooms filled with students, the sound was contained to within the rooms. Nothing was to be heard in the hall. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his pack of cigarettes, realizing at a glance that he was nearly out.

He sighed, plucked one of the last smokes from the pack and tucked it between his lips, making his way back to the bleachers. He was skipping third period and waiting for lunch. he only had P.E. next and he really couldn't give a flying rats ass about that stupid class. He sparked up his lighter as he found a quiet spot to sit beneath the bleachers and leaned back against the metal support beams that held up the entire structure. With smoke swirling around him and birds chirping in his ears he sat, and waited.

__________

Richard groaned when Sophia started messing with Mina. Her reputation preceded her and he really didn't think it was a good idea for overly chatty Sophia to mess with the schools resident Ice Queen. The hall was rapidly filling with students, a few he knew, and others he didn't. Alden came back from the bathroom, hand still bloodied and he winced sympathetically but stood, shoved his book back in his backpack, and walked up to Sophia.

He shoved his arms through the straps of his bag so that it hung on his chest, turned and placed his back to Sophias, then reached back, hooked his arms through hers so they were pressed back to back, and leaned forward. The end result was that her feet came up off the ground and she was lying on his back like a turtle on its shell.

"Come on, Soph," he said. "Let's leave the nice girl alone and go to class. Soon as we get through this next class we'll go find you some grub, huh? I think your blood sugar is getting low." He was sure they made quite the comical spectacle as he started carrying her down the hall toward their next class, but he didn't much care.

Third period was quick and easy, looked like most of them still had the same class together. How had he not noticed all these people that he had several classes with every damn day? In the end there was a refreshing lack of further incidents and before he realized they were making their way through the halls and toward the cafeteria. He could already smell the mystery meat that was the staple of high school lunch the world over burning in the pots. Seriously, prison food was probably better than the slop they got, but he wasn't going to complain... much.

He was saying something to Sophia, what, he would never really remember, when the incident that would lead to the complete destruction of the normal, quiet life that he knew, began. He pushed open the door, and with his head turned to talk to Sophia, plowed headlong into another body, sending both of them stumbling to the floor.

"Ow," Richard whined and sat up, gingerly rubbing a small bump on the back of his head. "What the hell happened?" He looked up and froze, eyes opening wide as he took in the site of Largent sprawled on the floor in front of him. Next to the older bully lay an empty lunch tray. Empty because the contents of said tray had ended up dumped all over Largent. It looked like spaghetti with 'meat balls', orange jello, and an entire can of coke.

"I'm dead."

[User]
At the loud crashed caused by Richard slamming into Largent, Hal whipped his head around towards the conflict. He set down his food tray, a smirk on his face as he walked toward it.

So, the big guy's probably about to snap, Hal thought. About time. Hal had never liked Largent, a dumb bully who used brute force to pound through life, in Hal's eye. Largent lacked grace, and cunning. These were things that Hal appreciated, and tried to embellish in his image, which usually resulted in bitter failure. Hal saw, however, a new opportunity. That kid, Richard, was in many of Hal's classes. He was friends with that quiet Sophie girl. Two for the price of one.

Hal moved near the sideline of the crash, lurking in the growing crowd. He'd wait for Largent to make a move, and then strike from behind. Largent wouldn't know what hit him. Partially because, if everything went according to plan, Largent would be unconscious. The other part originated from the fact that Hal wasn't sure Largent knew what backup was.

Hal picked up an empty tray from a pile of dirty ones nearby. It shouldn't be too much longer now.

[Assistant]
Before Blake knew it, the period had passed. He managed to finish with time to spare, but he couldn't deny that was definitely the longest it took for him to finish a test. If he had to actually start studying to get through this class… The thought made him shudder as he turned it in to Om. He wiped the metaphorical sweat off his brow as he packed his stuff into his backpack, slipped it over his shoulder, and went into the hall. Class was essentially over by then, so he just made his way over to his third period class ahead of time to reunite with his brother. Neither twin looked any better, really, but it was nothing they weren't used to.

Once that period passed the two were bound for the cafeteria, finding something to talk about by contemplating how a Gundam Justice League AU might go.

Nerds.

Unlike most of the people in the school, the two usually prepared a lunch ahead of time so they wouldn't have to deal with the dangers of the mystery meat. They've been packing their own meals since middle school, really, so avoiding it wasn't very hard for them at all. Sure it got kinda stale since the only real mixup to it is the kind of snack they bring to complement their sandwich, but it had to be better than school lunch. Their commute to the cafeteria was stopped up by the commotion at the door. The two peered up over the crowd of growing shoulders, managing to make out that one of the people there seemed to be… Largent!

"Oh, that one dick?" Al asked.

"Hey, yeah, that guy!" Blake responded, "…Oh man, the other guy's probably dead if that's actually him!"

Al was just about to ask him if he was going to do something stupid, but Blake was already in motion to go help Richard up. Plan Stupid full steam ahead!

[User]
Thursday March 21st, 2016
@TychosFullmeta @pockets @Great Sogeking @Thundercrash

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---

While the bleeding seemed to lessen, it didn't stop. With a sigh he decided to just get to the nurse's office and grab some bandages. He dried off his hand and placed the strap on his bag on his shoulders. Alden stepped out of the bathroom, slightly unfocused because of the wound on his arm and bumped into a person. He was actually at fault this time,

"Sorry" the figure said, oddly enough,

"No no, it was actually my fault, sincerest apologies."

"Oh! Are you okay?" the figure, who he now noticed was Mina asked in a bit of a worried tone, whilst she stared at the lightly bleeding hand

Alden chuckled a little at her concern, "I'm fine, just a little, annoying mishap during history." he said lightly, no hints of concern in his voice, "I'm headed towards the nurse's room, if you're actually that worried you can accompany me." Alden continued, looking back and giving her a smirk, he was now joking with her and teasing her. Alden didn't know if she would actually come, but he started walking away, towards the nurse's room.

---

He had gotten his wound sterilized left hand wrapped in gauze, with the nurse pulling out a wooden splinter from his wound. She also noted that there may be a scar, which Alden would be very displeased at, but it couldn't be helped.

Alden found himself in the cafeteria, he wasn't planning on eating whatever slop they managed to put together because his mother already packed him lunch. Before he could sit down and eat his prepared lunch there was a huge crashing noise. Apparently two boys collided with one another, Richard and Largent, with Richard being the one at fault. This was going to be messy, Largent is known as a bully of sorts, and those weren't rumors, Alden had seen plenty of Largent being, with lack of better word, a douche.

A crowd now gathered around the scene, of course who wouldn't want to see a scene of Largent losing it and probably beating up Richard. One of the most notable things he saw was one of the students, Hal, picking up a dirty tray nearby, inching very close to Largent, almost instantaneously he got the gist of what Hal wanted to do. Alden got up, and walked over, and getting being him Alden grabbed his arm with his left, bandaged hand.

"You, you're not planning on doing anything stupid are you?" Alden said his eyes piercing through Hal, his eyes were saying that it was stupid a plan to actually assault someone, especially with these much witnesses.

[Assistant]
Hal was off-put, even slightly shocked, as Alden's bandages brushed against him. Hal pried his arm away from Alden, brushing it off.

"It's only stupid if it doesn't work. Plus, Largent's a tank. It's about time someone put him in his place, and I know you wouldn't be keen on scraping guts off the floor." Hal smirked at Alden's glare. "Just because you wouldn't wanna get dirty doesn't mean I'm not going to. No one likes Largent, people will be on my side. Right?"

This last line was said with some lack of confidence, but Hal shook his head, sticking to his plan. At the very least, Hal thought, Richard will owe me for taking his beating for him. If everything goes perfectly, I'll be a hero. If it fails.... well, I'll be nice enough.


[System]
Niah Bautista

Character Quote: Do you so swear?

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Character Summary
Aliases: Oath Keeper
Age: 14
Birthday: Oct. 3, 2003
Ethnicity: Filipino
Birth Place: Manila, Philippines
Godly Parent: Styx
Legacy: Styx
Cohort: 2nd Cohort
How Many Years At Camp Jupiter: 2
Gender: Female
Rank: Centrion
Occupation At Camp: Oath Binder (If someone needs to swear an Oath they usually do it in front of Niah)
Languages: English, Tagalog, Latin

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Appearance
Height: 5'2"
Weight: 130lbs
Body Type: Petit
Eye Color: Golden brown
Hair Color: Brown
Skin Tone: Soft brown, naturally tanned
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: Ears pierced, SPQR with two lines, Cohort symbol
Personal Style: Niah is sensitive to a lot of materials so she is picky with what she wears. She however does like the traditional Roman clothing and wears it a bit more often than most. If she is not wearing traditional clothing she wears jeans and t-shirts, or sundresses. She leans toward blue colors.

She wears a light amount of make-up most days and has her hair down or back in a braid. She is growing her hair longer and hasn't cut it since she joined Camp Jupiter.

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Psychology
Energetic * Picky * Friendly * Competitive * Observant * Pedantic

Sexuality: Demisexual (though she can appreciate the aesthetics of someone she doesn't know)
Relationship Status: Single
Personality: Niah is fast to form opinions about people, and doesn't usually change that opinion. It doesn't help that she can tell if someone has ever broken an Oath, no matter how minor. It is amazing how disappointed you can be when you realize how often people fail to keep them. She has, because of that, made it a point to not make Oaths she can't keep.
Fatal Flaw: Personal loyalty
Habits: Chewing her lip
Hobbies: Reading, planning practice battles
Fears:
* Being forced to break an Oath, or being unable to keep it
* Riding a motorcycle (she saw a terrible accident once as a child and it is seared into her brain)
* Her sister being found dead...or worse

Likes:
* Her cohort
* War games
* Learning new things (Niah wants to attend an actual college, not the one at Camp)
* Traveling
* Reading
* Horse back riding

Dislikes:
* Oathbreakers (She loathes them)
* Bad/bitter food
* Itchy clothing
* Birds (stupid nest outside her childhood bedroom window woke her up too early)
* Apples
* Bad movie remakes of good movies
* Fauns

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Skills
Demigod Abilities:
* Oaths (Niah inherently knows if someone has made an oath and if they've ever broken one)
* Odikinesis

General Skills:
* First aid
* Law
* Botony
* Horseback riding
* Conflict management
* Roman Mythology

Combat Skills:
* Short sword
* Siege engine
* Military tactics
* Use of Odikinesis to distract or demoralize enemies

Magic Item:
* Vial with a bit of River Styx in it (given to her the one time she met her mother)
* Imperial gold short sword, sits invisibly on her back

What Do They Carry On Them:
* Clothing - A light summer dress, and sandals.
* Purse/Wallet - about $30 in USD, and 20 Denarius coins
* Backpack
* Current reading book
* A notebook (with some sketches and notes)
* A pen
* spare hair tie
* Advil
* Chapstick
* A bottle of nectar
*
*

Possessions In Bunk:
* Spare clothes
* A secondary, non-magical weapon
* A photo of her family (Sister, brother, father, and stepmom)
* A trophy from a fight that she had on her way to camp
* An extra blanket
* A reading flashlight
* Her next few books that she plans to read
* Lotion
*
*
*

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History

Biography Niah was born in the Philipines. Her father already had a daughter, Dalisay. He never spoke about her mother, or Niah's. Niah knew something was odd about herself though. She could tell when someone had made an Oath, and more importantly when they had broken that oath. Her first memory was realizing someone her father trusted had broken an oath.

Niah argued with her father saying the man was untrustworthy. Imagine a two-year-old telling you someone you trusted was untrustworthy. Her father didn't take it well and he put Niah into a time out. While she was in the time out her sister tried to cheer her up by showing Niah her own magic. Neither realized how different they really were from the rest of the world because they had each other. A few months after the fight the man betrayed their father and he apologized to Niah. The two became close after that.

Their father married, and they had a son. Niah liked her step-mother because she had never broken an Oath. Things were normal in their home that was until Dalisay disappeared one day when Niah was 12. Her father at that point explained that Niah was the daughter of a goddess and it was time for her to attend a special school in America. He gave her a letter from Niah's mother, the goddess of Oaths. With that making sense, Niah went to America. Her father had given her little direction, but it was through a series of incidences that Niah ended up at the Wolf House. Lupa put her through the usual testing and sent her to Camp Jupiter.

How Long Have They Been At Camp Jupiter: Niah had a hard time moving up from Probatio, while she had good lineage she was not the best at fighting and ended up earning her rank as Legionnaire by performing a great deed about three months before her first year was up. She was good at tactics and made a small name for herself in the games with that skill. She quickly became known as the Oath Keeper and was usually told to be present when someone was about to leave for a mission. Niah started witnessing all Oaths, it helped people remember how important the oaths were putting a face to it. With the new title of Oath Binder, she was also promoted to Centurion, it helped keep the lines of who was in charge better. Niah wasn't particularly excited about the change and for the most part deferres to her counterpart in the 2nd cohort.

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Additional Information

Theme Song: Promises I can't Keep - Mike Shinoda

Extra Information: See Andy's cs
I agree to follow the rules for this RP and understand that if I do not follow the rules, the GM or Co-GM may kick me out of this roleplay.

[User]
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Madalyne Crane

Location: Camp Jupiter, New Rome, the Auguries
Skills: N/A

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Alexandra shrugged slightly, she didn't recognize their faces, Fauns always came and went to camp all of the time and in her opinion they were pretty much useless other than begging food and taking things that aren't theirs. She was glad that they weren't allowed to work in the Legion really either. "Unless you guys want to pay me to help you search and question fauns all day. But yeah I can go to the Senate and have an assembly later in the day." Alexandra was rudely woken up by her half sister Nancy after all.

Madalyne always did feel pretty bad for the Fauns around camp however and would always help them out whenever they did ask for something she'd give them some money or food to eat. She looked at Niah and Nancy to see what the two of them wanted to do, question some Fauns until they assembly could start or do something else while they waited. Madalyne didn't really care to much about having to wait either really at least she wasn't a Praetor or anything like that yet that job wouldn't be to fun for her in her opinion anyway.

[Assistant]
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☀ Nancy Parker ☀

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Location: New Rome - the Auguries
Skills: N/A

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 "Pff, we're not paying you, sis," Nancy told Alexandra confidently. "One, don't have the money for that. Two, if we had the money for that, why in Pluto's name would we want to give it to you? What would you even use it for - to buy out a Build-a-Bear workshop?" she scoffed. She had seen one when she was being brought to Camp Jupiter from the Lotus Hotel and Casino. It had been sickeningly adorable - the sort of thing she would have adored having in her childhood. Of course, Nancy didn't have a good concrete reason to dislike Alexandra so much. Maybe she could blame it on the fact that in Alexandra, she saw a fate she never wanted - becoming an Augury, reduced to just a mouthpiece for prophecies. Or maybe it was the fact that Alexandra just reeked of casinos. Maybe Nancy just disliked blondes.

 "I'm not sure it's worth questioning the fauns," Nancy then admitted. "We know where this gem is - Mount Rushmore, in the eye of good old George. We know it's being guarded by a dragon. The fauns seem... irrelevant, to me? I think we just gotta motor, get the gem, and bring it back here." She didn't have a hatred for fauns or anything, she didn't like them but she didn't dislike them either. They were just sorta there, other beings that lived in Camp Jupiter and depended on them for (stolen) food. They might as well have been shrubbery.

[User]
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Niah Bautista

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Location: The Auguries
Skills: N/A

---

They would have extra time between now and when the Senate meeting would start. They were always a little slow. She would rather get going. Niah shifted on her feet a bit considering her options. She winced a bit when Nancy was mean to Alexandra, but she did agree with Nancy. They didn't have the cash to pay Alexandra to help them question fauns for like two hours.

"I partially agree with you Nancy, about the fauns, but they might be able to give us some details about the dragon. If they do then we might have an idea of what we are dealing with. Personally I've never met a dragon. I'd like a step up against it, they might be able to help with that." She turned back to Alexandra, "Thank you though. When will we be able to meet with the Senate?"

[Assistant]
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Madalyne Crane

Location: Camp Jupiter, New Rome, the Auguries -> Senate Building
Skills: N/A

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Alexandra looked at Niah and gave a slight shrug. "Maybe an hour or two, someone will send for you guys." Alexandra said as she started to gather her things and started to head out, and set up the meeting while their current session was on their afternoon break. Madalyne looked at Nancy, and Niah and gave a slight shrug. "I guess we can go and quest some Fauns see if they know the one who stole the gem." Madalyne said as she made her way out of the Auguries.

A little bit over two hours later, Madalyne couldn't really find any kind of information from any of the Fauns that were in or around camp, until one of the messengers came over to the three of them. "The senate is ready to meet you guys." Before handing the three of them the letter before heading off. Madalyne looked down at it, and then the two of them, she had only been in there a few times once she had gotten her Centurion rank, as well as her initial placement within the legion as well. Madalyne stood in the room seeing all of the senators within the room talking amongst each other.

[User]
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☀ Nancy Parker ☀

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Location: New Rome - the Senate Building
Skills: N/A

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 Nancy always felt that the Senate was dreadfully boring. Ten demigods served on it, deciding pretty much everything for the legion. She could hardly imagine sitting on the stone benches for hours at a time, debating the finer aspects of quests and the possibility of war. She liked to keep moving if at all possible. The only time she ever slowed down was to get her coffee from New Rome - and even then, she could hardly resist gulping it all down at once like a shot. She peered at the letter, squinting her eyes as she tried to make her dyslexic brain focus on it. It was in English, but she got the gist of it pretty quick. They were summoned by the Senate.

 She made her way to the Senate House with the other two, taking a moment to look around. Of the two praetors, one of them was from Nancy's cohort - Maggie Ortega, daughter of Venus. The other, Jasper Moon, son of Bacchus, was from the fourth cohort. It wasn't a terrible cohort to be from, but it definitely lacked the shiny reputation of the first and second. Yet even though she was a centurion, Nancy didn't know too much about both of them beyond just that. She had no idea if they would get pedantic about things, if they would try to give this quest to someone else, or if they would be reasonable and give them the green light to go. "So do we sit anywhere?" Nancy asked, standing and feeling a bit awkward.

[Assistant]
Location: The Senate Building
Skills: N/A

---

Niah was frustrated with the lack of information. She hated it. They were getting to the point where Niah was about to snap when the runner came up with the letter for them. She was thankful for it. After several deep breaths, she went with the two of them to the Senate. She had been here often enough. Usually for her Oath Binding. This was more awkward though. She had never been here for the start of the quest.

"We have a prophecy about the missing gem. I'm supposed to go to Mount Rushmore, the gem is in the eye of George Washington." That was a sentence she had never expected to say. "I've chosen Nancy Parker and Madalyne Crane to go with me." She didn't know what all she was supposed to say, but that felt concise and to the point. Hopefully, it also sounded assertive. Her insides were twisting with fear and she could feel her hands were sweating. She wanted to wipe them on her pants.


[System]
Daphne Saintmarie

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Character Summary
Aliases:None so far

Gender:Female
Age:26

Race/Ethnicty:French/English
Place of Origin:Delphian Empire (Formerly Detroit)

Occupation:Nures; Counselor; Advisor

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Character Attributes
Height:5'6
Weight:120

Tattoos/Scars/Piercings:None
Day To Day Attire: Daphne performs many of her official duties in light armor. When dealing strictly with the sick and injured, she will wear other casual clothing.

Strengths:

* Healing/Physiology: Daphne has combined medical training with her magic to better serve those in need.
* Empathy: She has the natural inclination to place herself in others' shoes before making decisions or giving guidance.
* Psychology: On the job experience and an interest in the writings of philosophers has given her insight into human behavior.

Weaknesses:

* Combat: Daphne's sword is just as ornamental as it is functional. She can protect herself but needs more training.
* Strength/Athleticism: She can move when she has to, but she isn't very good at it.
* Perfectionist: Daphne is her own worst enemy and is extremely self-deprecating.

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Magic
Spells: Daphne's magical abilities are effective in managing wounds and sicknesses.

* Healing Touch:  Her magic is much more effective in close quarters.
* Hail Mary: Daphne can cast from a distance, but with much greater chances of being interrupted and with less predictable results.
* Minor Wards: Sometimes prevention is the best medicine; she can cast protective spells on herself and allies.

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Possessions
Items Of Note:

* Weapon: Daphne carries a beautifully crafted longsword which, in her hands, seems to have adopted certain magical properties.
* Journal: For research, notes, and her general thoughts about life.
* Precious Trinket: She wears a piece of jade on a necklace, given to her as a little girl by her brother. He stole it, of course. It's the only thing she has to remind her that he really existed.

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History
Daphne and her older brother were born into a world of poverty and instability. The Delphian culture is unforgiving even (perhaps especially) to little girls, and when she was just a few years old their parents were killed as bystanders during a riot in their district. Such is life in the Delphian Empire.

By luck or grace, Daphne was not swallowed alive by the streets as so many other orphaned children were. Instead she was adopted by the local church, and this was her home until she was 20 years old. In her teenage years she began displaying a talent for healing magic. It was kept hidden by the clergy and she wielded it in secret to heal the sick and wounded poor. Daphne never knew what had become of her brother, though she thought of him every day.

But word travels, and the Empire serves itself first. A patrol arrived to take her away for their own use at the threat of burning the church to the ground for anything less than total cooperation. She was taken to a military compound in service of the Empire, and was placed in the tutelage of their physician to help get their fallen soldiers back into the fight. For the next few years, her raw magical ability was complimented by lessons from medical literature and practicing non-magical medicine under the guidance of the Empires physicians who rotated in and out of the compound.

The political nature of Delphian culture being what is it, Daphne found herself in the good graces of the detachment commander due to a series of conversations concerning the state of the Empire. Impressed with her candor and humility, and not just a little with her magical capabilities, he placed her in a position over his physicians to manage the entire medical operation from a seat in his headquarters. After all, what commander would miss the opportunity to have his very own cleric as part of his entourage? It would surely increase his status ten-fold. He had arms and armor made for her to be part of his protective service detail.

Though her primary mission remained the detachment medical ward, over the next few years the commander also began relying on her counsel in political matters. He found that she tempered his impulsive tendencies. He could express his fears and doubts about the Empire and its many campaigns to her in private, without fear of appearing weak to the rest of his detachment.

The change of command marked the beginning of a downward spiral for the detachment. The new commander was as ruthless as he was narcissistic, and he arrived with his own cabinet of yes-men. For Daphne's part, he would have had her working in the stables were it not for her magical talents. He distrusted her and subjected her to the command of his own 'clerics'. When word spread of summons from the King of Dall, she made the decision to abandon the dissenting detachment. She had been forced into serving the Delphian Empire. It was time to answer a higher calling.

[User]
Aeriabella Olstrom
Linky McLinkerson

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Aeria stood atop one of the oak tables of the small tavern, a half filled pint swishing in her hand as she moved around; casually kicking the few empty pints she had left on the table from earlier.

"♪I CAME IN LIKE A WRECKING BAAALLLLL♪" Aeria belted the ancient song of old into the dingy tavern. Her voice rather beautiful despite the faint slur on small occasions. "♪I NEVER HIT SO HARD IN LOOOOVEE! ALL I WANTED WAS TO BREAK YOUR WAA~~♪" Her singing cut short into a yelp as she miss stepped on the table and lost her footing. Falling onto the floor with a heavy thud she groaned audibly, giving out a quiet "Ouch.."

Somehow miraculously Aeria didn't spill a drop of her ale. She slowly fumbled to her feet and pounded the last of her ale. With a wobble she found herself back at the bar, practically slamming her forearms onto the counter to catch her weight. "Another ale plEASe" She requested, sliding her empty mug across the counter; her voice fluctuating oddly with the request.

The barkeep shook his head in annoyance "Sorry, Ma'am. Think ye had enough." He insisted, taking the empty mug and throwing it into the washing trough. "Oh come now!" Aeria protested. "I'm barely ~hiccup~ drunk!" She didn't make her case. Aeria gave a whining groan before resting her face on the cool wood of the counter, slouched in defeat.

In truth Aeriabella wasn't that drunk at all, barely tipsy if she was honest. Though she had every intention of making the whole tavern believe herself to be some terrible drunk who couldn't hold her liquor nor her tongue. A simple tactic she liked to employ whenever joining a new band of 'adventurers'. Often made those joining her leave her to her own business, not wanting to get caught up in Aeria's bad image; leaving Aeria free to do as she pleases.

[Assistant]
The SilverFox

A moments peace

Going into the cities were always difficult for the woman in white. It was filled with life but the whispers of the world die here. The ground is pressed and compacted like dead bones bleaching upon the scorched earth. There was enough dead places. Why mankind needed to cluster to them was something that she didn't understand. Probably cause they need connection, connection to the here and now than the dead and gone. It was something she wished to maybe take a moment, a single moment to partake in, but the spirits were everywhere, and they were particular task masters. She could take a moment, food and tea, maybe some wine of pressed beets and spiced mushrooms, but she could not reveal herself fully. Here she was an animal, and she wore the furs of such.

She was here on a purpose, to fulfill the duty and vow of her Magical Overlord. The king had sent for scouts, a great undertaking was at hand, and The Silverfox was to offer her aid, leading the group through the wild lands, spreading the message of the life and the glades in their wake. That was the hope in any case, there was no telling what these warlords desired in the Southern Lands. They never had the love of the land found in the North.

She wore a robe of purest white, fox tails behind her waving as if they had a mind all their own. The chill of the air was blocked by the furs around her neck, framing a cold mask of a great predator. Her spear and shield would further reciprocate that demeanor. She was like a beacon, pristine white against a sea of drab greys and browns. The people would view her with suspicion, another stranger from the wastes, bringing their insane cultures and whims with them. Others would stare in aghast awe, hearing tails of the Dancers of the Glade, who wore the face and skins of beasts, slaughtering until the color of their furs speckled with nothing save the deepest crimson. The silverfox was happy for this, it meant her people were not yet lost from memory.

As she felt the concrete and pebbles under foot, her limbs and bones felt the journey suddenly. A raw soreness chaffed her thighs, blisters threatened her feet. She needed to report to the king, but she needed to rest as well, lest she offer nothing more than a sight for foreign eyes.

The silverfox turned, ducking into an inn for a moment. Her ears scrapped against the door frame as her mask scanned the establishment.
 Again she would stand out as the spectacle she was and for that reason she would immediately turn to duck into an unused table and take a stool only lit by candle light. She wofted her tails and her robes and sat as a noble lady would, keeping her shoulders back, back straight and head up.

She kept watch over the other patrons, a drunken busty woman apparently had the room, and now she had the counter. A soft shake of her mask. These city dwellers and their distractions. She wouldn't mind maybe something strong to warm her bones. The furs only did so much.

[User]
Departing my detachment in the Empire was not the daring escape that I had prepared for in my mind; so lowly regarded was I that the guards at the main gate would have surely allowed me to simply walk right out if I had had the courage to attempt it. In fact, the man who came to sneak me out had carried on a rather pleasant conversation with them as I boarded his covered wagon, unnecessarily concealed in my hooded cloak, and did not entertain so much as a casual inquiry as to his purpose at one of the Empire's military posts. I am left to believe that most of my fear of leaving was related to the fact that it has been the only real purpose in my life until now, even though it was if I had never existed the moment I left. Colonel Aldric Durand was the only thing holding that organization together. Under his successor, I expect that it shall collapse under the dissention and corruption that is now bred there. I have never seen so much of the Empire as I have since embarking on the journey for the Kingdom of Dall, and the more that I do, the more that I believe I have made the right decision. The fear of what waits for me at the end of this road is beginning to pale in comparison to the thought of what might become of me if I stayed. Over the past several years I allowed myself to forget that I was indentured into servitude to the Empire. It was never a fate that I would have chosen for myself. I do not know what good it will do to answer a call to adventure from a foreign king. Yet even if I should meet a terrible end before I ever reach the kingdom's borders, at least I will do so as the result of having taken my destiny into my own hands for the first time in my life.

- D.S.

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The church had not been the intended destination. However, Skirving, the man who called himself a merchant but who had proven to be involved in much seedier activities during their journey, had insisted that it would not be in his best interests to simply ride right up to the palace gates. He had also insisted that a twenty percent increase in the agreed upon payment for his services was in order, due to his claim that the weather conditions would delay his departure from Praetor City. The crooked, gapped smile on his face as he held out his hand indicated that he knew how flimsy an excuse it was to extort the extra coin and that the woman who had hired him was in no position to take issue with it. Purse in hand, he and his shady little band of 'merchants' had faded into the bustling district to attend to whatever business they had in the kingdom's capital.

Daphne Saintmarie stood before the steps leading to the church doors, pulling her heavy cloak tightly around her as the cold wind swirled though the city streets. Not wanting to be left in the middle of town with nowhere to go, this had been the next thing that had come to her mind. She gazed at the impressive structure and smiled as fond memories from the church she had grown up in flashed though her mind. It had been many years since Daphne had set foot in such place.

The snow crunched beneath her plated boots as she finally walked up the steps and entered the church. It was a relief to be out of the cold. Daphne drew back her hood and pulled her long blonde hair over one shoulder as she slowly made her way into the sanctuary. Sconces on the walls were ablaze, gently lighting the big room and adding warmth to the atmosphere. The stone floor was split down the middle by a heavy carpet, creating an isle between the rows of pews that ended at an alter. A couple other visitors sat near the front of the sanctuary; Daphne chose a spot in the back to rest and gather her thoughts.

An unknown amount of time passed during her reflections; Daphne had needed a certain degree of decompression after everything she had been through that ultimately led her to the Kingdom of Dall. At length, feeling sufficiently calmer and more collected, she left her seat and walked down the carpeted isle to the foot of the alter, her cloak flowing behind her. She knelt before it and said a silent prayer to the Goddess to guide her on her journey; it was time to present herself to the King of Dall.

Daphne rose to her feet and turned to leave the church. She had no idea how to reach the palace gates, however she was aware that places existed where locals and travelers gathered that might be willing to part with that information. The snowy winds greeted her once more as Daphne walked out into the city, and her hand instinctively wandered to the ornate hilt of her longsword. She was accustomed to how the Delphian culture treated those who dared to wander into unfamiliar territory, and she had to be prepared for a similar greeting should the denizens of Praetor City take a particular disliking to a defector from the Empire.