[System]
Age: 17
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Appearance:
Raymon is a young male with long black shoulder-long hair that starts to curl at the bottom. He has brown eyes accentuated by his pale skin. He is 6 foot tall and weigh a little under 185 lbs.
History:
Raymon was born into a peaceful family...maybe a bit TOO peaceful. Both of Raymon's parents were stereotypical hippies, so instead of going to school, Raymon was... homeschooled. Raymon never agreed with his parents however, so when he got his hands on some actual study material during his early teens, he was overjoyed. He spent a lot of time in the library since then.

Oddly enough and to the surprise of both friends and parents, he developed a liking for punk music. He went to several concerts where he met several people that he would occasionally hang out with. Until one day.... he ended up here, at the desk of the secretary of some god he'd never heard of. Would he accept the strange and probably dangerous proposal? Of course!

Personality:
Raymon is a punker by nature, but punk is just a music style. Raymon, while he doesn't quite look it, he gets along with others easily since he's seen quite a few points of view and thoroughly understands them too. He is usually light-hearted and easy-going. Raymon believes the peaceful outcome to be the best, but understands that sometimes you must fight to protect what you stand for.

Abilities:
-Skilled at martial arts.
Straight-up fighting skill.
-Thunder Rune.
Sets a Thunder Rune, unleashing a thunderbolt against whoever steps on it.
-Special move: Minefield
Rapid casts Thunder runes in a scatter-pattern. The starting limit is 4 runes.
-Special move: Double-Ruined
The user places a rune on each hand and smashes them simultaneously into his opponent for a stunning effect!* Preferred target area is the head.
*This effect is pain.

Equipment:
Spiked Gauntlets
Medium Armor?

[User]
That hurt like hell. Seriously. The world had gone spinning for a while, as his dazed sight rested on the front bumper, an arm underneath the bus that had crashed. So someone had been caught in the hit aswell? Kevin's blood seemed to drain. He had been ran over by a bus, and was in no position to help.

On closer inspection there was something odd. That was his own arm. How did that end up there? Then he realized that even if his neck hurt like hell, he couldn't feel anything neck down. He literally had nothing neck down.

I see...was one of his final thoughts before he faded to black, his brain ceasing to function. He even began to allucinate. About an office. Was this the afterlife? He couldn't know. Then the guardian had started to talk. Kevin was furious. He had never heard those names in his entire life. And granting being run over by a bus didn't help. So he shouted back. About a soul theft. And heated words were exchanged in return. "Look you daft planarian, there's nothing left of you to fill even an sausage" was the most striking of them all. More voices were heard, as a second female voice exposed a kind of deal. Something with a priestess of a goddess of Light or something like that. Well, he could use someone like that. He was um, possibly dying.

So he in the end accepted. It wasn't going to get much better than that, anyway. Light engulfed him...

And he woke up in a strange, forlorn place, voices hushing around. He immediately reached for his neck. Still attached. Good. He slapped his face to try and awake himself and that's when he noticed something wrong. Her facial structure... was very different. And what he threw him off the most was the fact that despite having not shaving in days. And the neck. The collarbone had felt wildly different. He eyed his hand. It was thin and delicate, also clad in leather and white clothes.

And then he noticed the chest.

"FUUUUUUUUUUUUUN" She tried to curse, her voice coming melodious and intense, only coming with a clever last minute substitute. Two mounds of flesh attached to her chest told that, on first inspection, he was a woman now. That explained why she felt so funnily and sore. She fumbled around, as she struggled to get up. She was somewhat shorter than his past incarnartion. Well, that probably was the term for whoever happened here. She looked at her own reflection in a watery pool, raising her eyebrows. "Gosh. Awkward, I'm cute too." She stated as a matter of fact.

Priestess of Light

The thoughts lingered on the back of her head, and she felt different... like waking up from a groggily state. She knew things a minute ago she would've never thought of. Implanted knowledge. Of priesthood rites. She searched for her Book of Prayers, right next to her side. As well as a mace. Well, at the very least it wasn't an impossible to master weapon like a whip or some kind of weird stuff.

"Alright you boopin' Lady. I will play your funny gig." She said to herself as she steadied....

And that's when she realized she had been done the whole display in front of unknown strangers. Awkwardness and embarassment seized her mind as the colours raged in her face, and dropping to a kneeling position, she chose to bury her face in her prayer book. After what it seemed an endless time, she managed to utter a sentence.

"Um...ma...maybe...landmarks...rivers...roads...follow them..." She managed to piece together as she kept trying to reign her embarassment.
"I am Kevin...NO! I mean uh... Celeste!" She literally pieced the new name at the last second.

[Assistant]
Raymon was blinded by the sudden light. One moment he had been sitting in bed, reading a book to a dim light, just to find himself in a well-lit room the next moment. After his eyes had adjusted, he spotted several people in the room, also several...awkward ones. A girl who looked embarassed and confused, a short girl who seemed very surprised, a young man, and two young women. The weirdest thing about them would've been their clothing, though. After all, surprise and confusion were on Raymon's mind too, (Although he did not consider himself all that cute) but at least he wasn't wearing such a silly...outfit...

Looking down at his own clothes, he realized that not only was he in fact wearing such an outfit, he even had a set of spiked metal gloves that might actually make him look as if he was from a geek-convention more than the rest of them.

Raymon did a fairly good job at hiding his surprise, but naturally he couldn't fully conceal it. Then he remembered what had happened, a god -or rather his secretary- had asked him to go on some weird quest to aid this apparently extraterrestrial world. He had agreed because it had seemed to him like nothing more than a weird daydream and because if it was real, it should at least prove interesting. He had not expected however, to seriously be dragged to another world. Raymon closed his book and watched in silence, this situation should get clearer soon...right?

[User]
When Maria woke up, she was not on her bed anymore.

Instead, she was on a plain, some forlorn place she had no idea about.

A gentle breeze hit her, making her dress flutter about.

Wait, dress?

She looked down, only to find she was now wearing a really fancy-looking dress, a dress straight out of a fairytale, a dress worn by a princess.

She also realized that her body had changed too. Her skin was whiter and softer, and her hair was pure wavy blonde reaching down beyond her waist.

She really, truly had become a princess.

Or at least a noble lady.

Or at the very least someone who looked like one.

She looked around to find a bunch of people in the same state of confusion as her.

First, there was the little girl. A little girl with quite a pointed pair of ears she must add. She looked really distressed as she looked down at her own little body.

Then, there was the young woman who looked to be some kind of cleric, looking like she was around her own age. She touched her own body all over, looking as frantic as a woman could possibly be. After the display, she buried her face in her book, clearly embarrassed.

She saw two other women, one a redhead and one with a silver blonde hair. The latter seemed to be a soldier of some sort, judging from her outfit. She asked if anyone knew what to do next.

Well, Maria couldn't answer that. She didn't know either.

The only recollection she had was of some place that looked like some sort of a law office. And how someone there, someone named Wyn, brought them here to do some job. What job was that? She couldn't tell.

The redhead suggested that they should just walk somewhere. The flustered young women added that they should follow a landmark.

"I agree," she said to them as she joined over to where they gathered. "Standing around here would get us nowhere it seems. No one here really knows where we are right now."

[Assistant]
As the other people in the area began to awaken from their little naps and began to discuss a course of action, Aaron nodded his head in silent agreement before clapping his hands together.

"Alright, let's get to moving, then. Road's looking good... And thank that god for dropping us near a road and not in some random wasteland. That's not something I'd want to deal with, after all."

The young man motioned to the rest of the group to move forward before noticing that a rather petite elf girl was freaking out a bit internally... As was some lady in priestess garb, with the latter being more vocal than the former.

...

Maybe dealing with the former would be simpler.

"Yo, you okay there? 'Cmon, we should get moving... Though, uh... I guess this is a good a place as any to have a freakout. Just don't fall too far behind or I'm dragging you along, aight?" he called out to the elf before walking down the road with whoever else followed (which was, presumably, everyone else in the group).

Luckily, that secretary had decided to not drop them far away enough from a town to the point where they'd be hiking for hours with no goal in sight. Only about ten minutes into the walk did the group find their first stop: a town, rather rustic in its appearance... And notable European in origin. Well, at least it was appearance-wise.

There were no guards at the entrance to the town, though it was surrounded by a decently-sized wall to keep out undesirables from entering. There were a few strange animals that were moving around the outskirts, though; some strange mix of rabbit and cat that reminded him of a certain contract-making alien, but with a rather distinct lack of sapience in comparison. It would be weird to suddenly wander off the path to murder them now, though, but he could probably handle that later.

The buildings inside the town were, for the most part, built of stone; a few thatched-straw buildings were scattered around here and there, but those were mostly located at the edge of town. The town itself was neither dead nor bustling--it lay somewhere in the middle, in a perfectly average manner.

"Wow. They really went with ol' faithful here, didn't they?" he quipped to himself as he wandered deeper into the heart of the twon. The language on the signboards outside of all the buildings didn't look like any language he knew, but by some miracle he could read them all the same.

Thank god for auto-translate.

"...Well... There's a lotta buildings to check out here, I guess. Thankfully, our clothes don't stand out all that much, so we're not getting any weird looks... But I guess we should figure out somewhere to check out first."

The guild, the tavern, the inn, half a dozen different specialty shops... Their options were by no means limited, it seemed.

[User]
When the group arrived at the village, the first thought that came into Maria's mind was how it reminded her of the old towns that she once visited when she went to Europe that one time.

"This really isn't Japan anymore, huh?" she mumbled to herself.

She then saw the odd-looking cat-rabbit looking things that wandered around outside the village. At first, she was tempted to get closer to them since they looked so cute and all. But, seeing how the rest of the group just walked straight to the village, she resisted that temptation. It wouldn't do to be separated with the others when you had no idea where you were.

When she looked at the signs placed in the village, she was surprised that she somehow could read them perfectly even though they were written in an alphabet she couldn't recognize.

"Guild, tavern, inn, weapon shop, armor shop, item shop..." she talked to herself. "I suggest we check out the guild first. It seemed to be the most important place here, judging by its size," she said as she looked to the large building where the sign was pointing.

[Assistant]
Raymon walked with the group in silence, ten minutes of walking later they found a town. The rabbit-cat-creatures near the outskirts of town drew his interest, but upon noticing he was falling behind he hurriedly moved along.

The group seemed to have a general interest in the signs, looking at a few himself he didn't get any wiser. Among others he read 'Outt', 'black market goods', 'Black market weapons' so when Raymon read those he didn't get any wiser. When Maria suggested to go to the guild, but he read 'Gang-hideout' on the sign she pointed at as, he decided something had to be wrong. Raymon struck himself on the side of his head, (much like one would strike an old TV when it stopped working) and after blinking a few times, he saw that the sign did actually say 'Guild'. Relieved that he hadn't ended up in some extremely shady place, Raymon once more read the signs.

Raymon read and considered for a moment. "Don't you usually go to a tavern to get some rumors and quests? I think we should go there first, honestly." Having stated his opinion, Raymon returned to looking around before realizing something fairly important. "Say, don't guilds usually charge you for joining? See, it just occurred to me, I don't think we have any money--or has that secretary left you guys any?"


[System]
Female
Appearance:

Even as she grew older and her body more frail, the youthful spirit and the sense of adventure within her never died out. The presence of a new body only made things more perfect. Narkissa has the appearance of a youthful, slender adult. She stands an average height of 5' 5", and while fit, weighs a paltry 111 lbs. Although her hair and eyes have taken a strange albino coloration, her professional sartorial aesthetic remains.

Goals:

What more can Narkissa wish for than to rediscover progress and reclaim the world? To build an empire under a reborn flag, so large in which the sun would never set on its lands? What more can it be than providence?

Would it really be fine if it ended like this?

As the darkness surrounded her, accompanied by the creaks and groans of her vessel of demise, a lifetime of past thoughts flashed through her eyes.

Even now, Narkissa was fascinated with the past. As long as she could remember, her mind had always fluttered to the tales of the past, the mystery, the majesty, and the grandeur of countries long past.

But of them all, there was only one country that had them all… and it wasn't too long ago that her country had stood at the peak of the world. There was nothing more that could fascinate her than the story of the early modern era, of the rise of the British Empire, and its maritime hegemony. She couldn't love the history any than she could love her own country.

Well, in other words, she was a nationalist.

But unlike others, Narkissa really was more interested in learning about things than shitposting on the internet. She became a scholar of history of early modern Britain. What was it like in the early modern era? How did people live? What technology did people use, how did it work? What food did people eat? What was life at sea like, how did people survive? Those were the questions that she asked, answered, and taught.

By the time she was beginning to reach her middle ages, she had become a marine archeologist, traveling to the ends of the world —and the depths of the sea— to explore the secrets that the oceans had swallowed long ago.

It really would be the past that would cause her demise, too.

Narkissa recalled the closing years of the American Revolution, when the British Empire had won a great battle against the French off Dominica. The battle won, the fleet sailed home with their prizes, only to meet their untimely demise in a hurricane in the Atlantic. It was the topic of her research.

Her life's work had finally culminated in finding the wrecks at the bottom of the sea, and for the first time in almost 250 years, human eyes finally beheld the hulls of the wooden battleships.

It really was just a damn shame that the pressure hull of the research submersible began to leak.

Abilities:

Physical Conditioning: Peak human
Your body is naturally tough, durable, and strong. The pinnacle of human physical strength, endurance, and agility. Keep training, and surely you can surpass even stronger beings.

Soul Flare
The ability to turn ones soul into a weapon itself. Needed for most basic magical feats. Channel the mana present in the air through your body to achieve great feats. Allows one to interact with supernatural things, and perceive things others may not.

Affection of the Sea:
The goddess has given you some of her own favor. The sea itself seems to bend to your will. Should you travel by it, you'll always find favorable winds and currents, the sea always seemingly directing you to where your destination is need to go whilst also hindering whatever may wish to do you harm. Theoretically, it can also extend to anything or anyone you 'own' as well, such as ships and sailors, but they will need some sort of relief or symbol to do so. Perhaps should you gain more favor with the goddess, you may even be able to command the seas themselves on some level...

Her clothes on her back… or maybe not?

[User]
She had the basics down? How odd. It felt like she knew next to nothing about magic. Really, it felt more like an applied science to her. She want to protest but perhaps that was good. Rullphana said it took time and research to come up with new things. As for a goal... Did she have anything planned for? No, not really. She had just wanted to survive. "What do I want to learn? I suppose everything might be too much to ask." Augusta mentioned, thinking on it a few seconds more. "Perhaps I want to be unrivaled in power. A lofty goal, though probably common amongst magic users.

The woman stopped and wondered. "If you wanted something more immediate perhaps I want to figure out how to shoot a lightning bolt."

[Assistant]
"Eh? Wait, isn't it still—?!"

Wholly taken off guard by how casually Lazirha dragged her out of Mie's tent, Misaki stumbled a bit as she attempted to not trip over herself. Given what she had done to help the young woman escape from her would-be captors, the foxgirl was not particularly looking forward to possibly facing off against them again...

And without the element of surprise, it wasn't likely she would get off scot-free like she had the last time. Her hands still stung even now, even if the pain was fading a bit faster than she would have expected.

Luckily enough, it seemed that the worst of the trouble had passed them by. Whether that was related to the commotion outside the tent during her negotiations or something else entirely was something to consider, of course, but when she arrived back at Lazirha's home...

Well, the sight she found was not all too surprising. If anything, the fact that there was even anything left slightly untouched was a miracle unto itself.

"...Well, I was—" she began to say, only to be promptly knocked to the ground by the fawn she had left behind. Though slightly rattled by the impact as she was thrown to the ground, Misaki managed to gather herself and pet the animal on the head as it rested on top of her... Despite the pain from the impact, at least.

"It's good to see you're all right," she said back, smiling as she slowly guided the fawn off of her and shakily rose to her feet. One would have usually expected 40 kilos of animal rushing at a person to not leave them unscathed, but it seemed that she had come out with little more than a pain that was quickly fading.

Food for thought.

As she brushed herself off, though, the sight of the nearby obelisk grabbing her attention. As much as she would have liked to stay out of harm's way, though, something about the situation seemed to suspicious for her to simply ignore. Lazirha seemed to want to check whatever it was out too, given the look on her face, but...

"...I don't think it'd be any safer here left in the dark about whatever insanity's going on, given how close we are," Misaki sighed, scratching the back of her head before looking between the deer, Lazirha, and the array of flashing lights and whatnot off in the distance. "So I suppose that the recovery here can wait a bit longer. Is there anywhere we could get a better look? Ideally, safety would be included in that, but..."

It wasn't as if she could offer much in the grander scheme of things—at least, not as she was now—which meant that if the others were involved and nearby, being dead weight (or just dead) in the middle of combat or something like that would not end well for anyone involved.

[User]
The Journey Begins

~ Forest Near Liven ~

Interacted with: @Rune_Alchemist

The jets of flame Nick spat out were more pitiful than he thought. He was no pro at this, he admitted, but that was just bad. The undead hounds didn't even caught fire, just singed from what Nick witnessed. He'd bet they didn't even feel it. Oh, he was so dead.

Or so he thought, the sudden bursts of fire from Nick seemed to have put the dogs on edge. They had stopped their attack, now wary of their seemingly-firebreathing prey. The belligerents kept their eyes on each other for a short while. Nick still held his torch and flask firmly, his mouth and lips burning from the slight backdraft, expecting the fight to resume any moment. But to Nick's surprise, it never did. The undead canines turned their heads towards the village and went off, deciding that Nick wasn't worth it.

As soon as they were out of his sight, Nick dropped to his knees. He quickly jabbed his torch standing in the frost and put away his oil flask and began scooping up snow from the ground and stuffing them into his mouth before spitting them out. He soon scooped smaller amounts and let them melt in his mouth before spitting out, trying his best to wash off the residue oil. He repeated this crude procedure several times until his mouth could no longer stand the cold and he was forced to stop. He would need to wash properly later.

Inspecting the ache on his ankle, Nick found that the hound's bite had torn through his denim pants but fortunately, the wound was not at all deep. Still, the pain stung and he had to sit on the snow to cool off, maybe literally, from the fight. Placing his face unto his hands, Nick suppressed sobs and stopped tears from forming. How long was he going to stay here? How long would he last? Will he even make it back home? Did he ever stand a chance? His heart was still beating fast from the encounter, exacerbating his despair. Oh, how Nick wanted to scream and how angry he was for knowing it would probably invite more danger.

Wiping his watery eyes from the self-pity, Nick forced himself to stand up. He still had a job to do, a job he didn't even know how to accomplish. Taking his torch, Nick saw the trail the hooded figure left that lead into another part of the forest. It was good a lead as any so Nick decided to follow.

[Assistant]
Narkissa gave Mie a thumbs-up before rummaging through the tools. A cheap cloth bag did well for keeping the basic ingredients all together, but together with that and all the various knickknacks she'd procured over the past few days, she needed a proper bag for the rest of her stuff as well, so Narkissa picked out a leather knapsack looking bag where she promptly shoved her books and the godly blueprint thing (that she still wasn't entirely too confident on.)

A nice pestle and mortar was a given, together with a few miscellaneous tools, she also needed a flat press of some sort for the corning process—she found a tool used for another purpose as a stop-gap for the time being, but she'd probably have to fashion her own later on if she wanted to be more efficient about it. It was probably better if she fashioned some of her own specialized tools, anyway… She didn't want others deducing her own formulation and methods from the ingredients and tools she picked out.

 Thinking about it further, she'd nearly forgotten a minor ingredient, and ended up asking the Oni for a bottle of distilled alcohol –not a required ingredient, but one that would make creating corned powder far easier than just using random impure water.

Finally equipped with the basics for recreating boom boom powder, she thanked the Oni and Mie if she was around once more, before glancing curiously at the odd display over at the Obelisk. Well, fixing up the powder could probably wait just a bit… she still needed to get an idea of what was going on, after all.


[System]
Age: 23
Place of Birth: Massachusetts
Gender: Male
Species: Human
Language: English
---

Physical Description

Height: 5'6''

Stature: Years of either kneeling or sitting haven't done much for Eli's body. He's stick-thin and has just bones, some meat, and skin.

Hair: He's got dark-chocolate brown hair. He usually keeps it at a short cut but Eli has been letting his curls grow out a bit.

Eyes: Cloudy-blue.

Skin tone: Pale as a ghost. As a child, Eli preferred to stay inside and pray. He's got a smooth and unblemished complexion. Who knows what the sun will do to him.

Features: Eli has an oval face with defined cheekbones, a slightly pointed chin, and a sturdy jaw line. His lips are full and with a cupids bow. His eyes are in a rounded almond shape that are emphasized by his double eye-lids. His slightly bushy eyebrows are forever scrunched up.
Attire: Black clerical shirt, black pants, black robe, black everything. When not preaching, he'll wear some dark brown overalls and white dress shirt.
---

Personality: Eli is your typical staunch believer who wants to spread the word to everyone. He's rather calm and subdued in his actions, preferring to fade in the background. While he may seem meek, do not cross over Eli's no-no line. While it may seem like he's patient and thick-headed, he really isn't. In fact, he can be quite a stubborn bull when he truly believes in something. Other than that, he's polite and always keeps his promises. He chooses to live with a smile on his face and without fear clouding his judgement.

Skills/Talents: If there's one thing special about Eli, it's his way with words. He's got a convincing voice and paired along with his passion, he can easily persuade a crowd.

Dislikes: Eli can't say that he dislikes anything. He's pretty tolerant and straight as an arrow. However, he does have trouble dealing with sarcastic grumps.

Ambitions: To help people accept Christ. Eli wishes to take the most run-down soul and teach him the word so that he or she can go to heaven.

Philosophy of Life: Live life to the fullest. Though, you can say that Eli doesn't really follow his philosophy. The only thing he lives for is the Bible.

Religions/Beliefs: God has always been a part of his life. After all, he was saved by a priest, who took him in and raised him to become a priest. He's forever grateful to his adopted father and wishes to follow his footsteps.

Children: Virgin.

Sexuality and History: Virgin. He's very thick-headed when it comes with relationships. You have to be super direct in order for Eli to even realize someone is interested in him. He's easily embarrassed when someone talks to him about sexual matters and prefers not to involve himself in such…indecencies if you will.

Addictions: It's not really an addiction, but more of a bad-habit Eli can't rid himself of. Whenever he gets stressed, he will kneel right there and then and just pray for hours.

Family: Eli does not know his parents. He lived off the streets for a while until he turned five when he was adopted by a priest. Back then, Eli was feral. He would bite, scratch, and hiss at the priest; he couldn't even speak English. His bad behavior would continue well into his adolescence until he came across an old-worn bible. Soon enough, the elderly priest was reading the tale of Jonah or Ruth to him at bed time. Little Eli longed to be able to read the Bible himself, so he dedicated all of his time to studying and praying. With patience and tender love, Eli grew up to become a respectable priest like his adopted father. After being ordained to priesthood, the diocese relocated him to Kansas.

[User]
He knelt there for what seemed like hours, waiting for the tell-tale sounds of the trap-door opening and strangled choking. For the first time in a long time, Eli felt the tendrils of fear wrapping around him. Surely the Judge would ignore his plea. After all, he was a priest who had just arrived in this town a mere two days ago. He held no political power, only the knowledge of God. However, the orders of execution never came. Eli's eyes fluttered open only to shut close, the suns rays striking him. Bringing his right hand to block the sunlight, his squinted eyes managed to witness the scene unfolding before him.

Finn Casey was being released from his bindings. Whether it was some stroke of luck or God's way of approving Eli's choice; the priest was filled with relief. His words had somehow swayed the public's opinion to his favor. Eli could make out a smile on the Finn's face as he was being held up by two officers by his side. Eli could feel his own lips twitching up into a smile before a feral cry reached his ears. He felt himself freeze in surprise, if not fear. It was a howl akin to the ones he had so frequently heard in his memories. Swallowing, the priest staggered to his feet, the Holy Book still clutched at his chest.

Eli glanced at the two men, nodding. "Of course," he simply responded. There was no doubt that the Judge and Tucker would be watching his every move like vultures patiently waiting for a wounded animal to die. As the officers led Finn Casey down the steps and to Eli's humble home, the crowds slowly began to dissipate. It was likely that the news of a young priest who had intervened in a murderer's execution would spread like wildfire.

Muttering a quick prayer of blessing to the two men, Eli made his way down the steps and towards his home, no, Eli's and Casey's new home.

---

Within a few moments, Eli arrived at the rather old weatherboard house. The paint was peeling, the porch foundations needed to be repaired, and the floor creaked and moaned under the four men's weight. However, it was spacious enough for a four-person family to comfortably live in. Eli didn't know who the previous occupants were, but he was certainly grateful for the opportunity to live here instead of a sod house. There was a living room that could also serve as a dining room, a kitchen, and two closets in the first floor. Upstairs, there were two bedrooms and a bathroom.

The officers dumped Finn Casey on the floor before taking their leave, both saying their farewells to the priest before taking their leave. Eli said his thanks before turning his attention to the tied convict. He blinked a few times before exhaling, bending down to untie Finn. Occasionally, he would rub the sun-burnt skin around his neck area. Less than thirty minutes out in the sun and he was already suffering. Eli frowned as he attempted to weave his way through the many knots before striking up a conversation with Finn.

"Well, there are going to be rules here Finn. First, you are by no means allowed to break another law or the Judge'll have my hide. No drinking, no cursing, and no women. I'll teach you the Lord's words and you'll have daily confessions as well. If you're illiterate, I can help you learn and..." Eli licked his lips in thought before continuing on. "Well, you'll have to do something with your appearance. Cut your hair, or at last comb it, and take a bath." He finally undid the ropes, releasing Finn. "Any questions?"

[Assistant]
Finn was in a state of utter disbelief that the Judge had allowed him his life. Part of him scorned the round fool that today wasn't his final one. The other part of him rejoiced that he'd live to see many, many more. Being pawned off to a simple priest in exchange for a weak promise of his salvation wasn't a sound investment, but if it meant a warm bed and a hot meal until he could round up means to jump town then he'd take it over a dirty cell any day. As soon as he was released into Eli's home, his head perked up like a new dog, scanning the area almost as if he'd chosen the space and was congratulating himself for landing a house of decent value. Worn and broken in, but a nice one just the same and better than he could ever afford on his own. Oddly, if you sliced the top floor off and was left with the bottom it could almost pass for his old family home. Deciding that he liked what he saw, an indolent smile crept on his face.

But the smile didn't last as long as he would've liked. With the Judge's rules, his face couldn't help but fall into what could only be described as a child's pout. His light brows furrowed close together, his lips pressed close as if he were deep in thought. No drinking? No cursing? No women... Essentially, a life of abstinence, prayer and good deeds was expected of him. Well, Finn never was good with rules. As soon as the clasps on his wrists were free and once again he was a free man he stood tall over Eli, inspecting the smaller man like a falcon looming over a desert mouse before the first swoop. He certainly didn't have much on him, nor was he the tallest, but to make someone like Finn seem more nourished and filled out he didn't think was possible. A life of servitude to the Lord and a flighty disposition must have been the cause if even a beanpole like Finn towered him. The criminal found it funny but withheld his comments. Instead he stood impossibly close that he wouldn't be surprised if Eli could hear his every breath.

"Daily confessions?" Finn exhaled a deep laugh through his nose. His eyes bore down on the priest. "You'll have me all run outta sin keepin' me cooped up here you won't have nothing to send up to God. No women, no drinkin'... I thought you were a good man, Father. That's just straight torture."

Then, Finn took the liberty to explore his new home freely. He ambled slowly around Eli, rounding him as the number of rules floated around his mind. No doubt Tucker would have his men scouting around Eli's home for a scrap of evidence that he'd violated this new probation of sorts. If he left tonight or even this week, no gun and no means of travel he would surely die at the feet of the law. He'd wait; it would just take him a bit of time. For now he might as well have a bit of fun. And what better way than with a holy man of the Lord?

"That judge," he went on with a flicker of his eyes downward and curled-up lips, "-'s a cock-suckin' son'va bitch. He can shovel shit for a livin' if he wasn't already doin' it now."

[User]
Finn Casey was tall. So much more taller that Eli had to tilt his head upwards to look at the man's face. Even then, he still felt like a minuscule, insignificant bug. He studied the other's foxish features and his blue-green eyes that were laced with amusement. Eli then realized that Finn could easily harm him, even kill him... "See, what did I tell you Elijah? You made a mistake and now you'll regret it for sure." His father's voice floated in his mind, but was it actually what his dear father would say?

The two were so close together that Eli could hear the others breath. He wanted to step back a few times, to distance himself from such a strange creature but he couldn't. His feet were hopelessly glued to the floor in a mixture of awe and fear. Finn then began to question the rules Eli had set for him; saying that it was 'pure torture'. The priest lowered his gaze to the floor as Finn revolved, no, stalked around him. His hooded eye-lids hid the unmistakable flickers of dread. Oh Lord, the Judge and Tucker were going to find his battered corpse tomorrow morning. Eli's heart rate quickened as he thought about running away before it was too late.

Until Finn Casey decided to break rule number three.

Honestly, Eli had no idea what a cock was, he'd have to ask someone later, but he did know what s-o-n o-f a b-i-t-c-h meant. He had heard that phrase from an elderly man when he was a child during mass and his father had told explicitly told Eli to never ever say that because it was a curse word and curses were poison. Eli snapped his head back up to defiantly glare at Finn, his lips pursed into a thin line. The fear that festered inside of him seemed to have fled, replaced by a spark of annoyance and anger.

"Finn Casey, you just broke a rule that I told you not to break a minute ago. You should know better than that. Your life is in my hands son, so it'd be in your best interests to listen to me," he said. Eli began to tremble like a leaf, the frustration piling up into a huge head-ache. "I'm sure there are better things to do than indulge in such...indecencies. Maybe you should start by cleaning up," he managed out before graciously stepping back. He went to a corner, near the kitchen, before falling to his knees to pray. Whatever Finn was to say to him next, Eli would ignore it till he felt better.


[System]
Race: Beorc
Age: 26
Appearance:
Class: Mercenary
Weapon Proficiency: Sword A
Features:
Stats
 Constitution - 4
 Strength - 5
 Magic - 0
 Skill - 5
 Speed - 4
 Defense - 3
 Resistance - 1
 Luck - 2
Inventory: Diamante (Long Sword Effective against Cavalry and Knights), Iron Sword, Vulnerary
Personality: Erik is impulsive and short-tempered. He is quick to action when he believes it is necessary, and does not believe in waiting when something could be done. Although he does not always think about the consequences of his actions, Erik's heart is always in the right place. He is generally friendly, and steadfastly loyal to those he calls friend. He is also straigthforward and blunt, not always succumbing to noble etiquette and formalities.
Biography: As the younger son of Queen Jannis of Albia, Prince Erik enjoyed a rather privileged life. However, he despised the nobility life and wanted to go on adventures. Being second in line to the throne, Erik never had the pressures of learning to rule like his older brother Rolph. Queen Jannis wanted to encourage Erik to experience the outside world, so she sent him to other cities in Albia as well as other countries to learn and train. While he did that, Erik often got into mischief. In Monos, he studied with the crown prince Brandon of House Rolklin, where the two often got into trouble. Queen Jannis also allowed Erik to train in Maul as well. He became fast friends with Princess Anya, who enjoyed having fun as teenagers with Erik. While in Miricia, Erik would often train with the future King Jacob II.

Erik often neglected his duties and tried to have fun with his life. That was until he learned of his childhood friend's assassination. Normally, Queen Jannis would have sent her older son as a representative to find out about Jacob's death. However, Erik volunteered right away, to seek justice for his friend.

[User]
Prince Erik Reighn - Dawn, Miricia

The last thing Erik expected was for Kuro to send anyone. Kuro was an isolationist nation, preferring to tend to the matters of their own borders rather than anything else. So when Gerwazy introduced himself, Kuro was admittedly shocked. "Best keep that information a secret. These ones do not take kindly to the laguz." He explained.

---

The palace of Dawn was marvelous. Erik himself didn't appreciate architecture like his older brother, but even he knew it was quite a sight. Hallways filled with majestic statues and intricate designs. Bronze busts of heroes of old. Incredibly details paintings along the walls. It had it all. And the throne room was the most special room of all. A red carpet led its way from the last doors to the golden throne. Guards patrolled every exit of the throne room, alone with half a dozen of them beside the young king, Jacob III.

"Hail, King Jacob!" Gregory called from beside Prince Erik. Erik knew he was supposed to be the one to greet the king, but he was distracted by the days events, and forgot. Erik wasn't always the best with nobility formalities. Beside him, he had the two laguz he had encountered, as well as Gerwazy from Kuro and Zachary.

"Prince Erik," The King Jacob greeted with a small nod of his head. The young prince had seen better days. His skin was worn and sweaty. He was more pale than Erik remember. His general expressions seemed much more grim as well. "You and your... accomplices have some explaining to do." The King looked across the laguz with a hint of disgust on his face. It was as Erik feared. He was completely blaming laguz for his father's death.

"Maybe you can explain your own actions, King Jacob," Erik answered as politely as he could must at that moment. "Laguz restriction laws? Monos elites? What's going on here?"

"I do not have to explain my actions to a foreign prince, sir" The King responded. "Monos is here to assist with the sub-human situation. What I want to know is what happened in the city. Or perhaps one of your companions may speak and enlighten us all?"

[Assistant]
Gerwazy pipes in. "Allow me to introduce myself, I am Gerwazy Casimir of Kuro. I am a laguz here on a diplomatic mission and to aid my brethren in this time of crisis. Allow me to extend my regrets for your fathers death. While it is troubling times, I also come with news of my homeland. We do not approve of the treatment of the Laguz in Miricia."

He steadies himself and continues speaking. "My kind have always been in conflict with your kind, but this is not what your father would have wanted. Your emergency of state is nothing more than a hate crime. I ask you, no, I beg you, let my people free."

[User]
Dawn, Miricia

An incredulous look came to Zachary's face as he hears the diplomat of Kuro speak. I-Is this guy trying to start something?! The situation is already tense as is. Throwing grease onto a flame will only make this worse. Body moving on instinct, Zachary moves in front of Mr. Casimir, letting out loud fake coughing to grab attention as he gently pushes the diplomat back with his arm.

Zachary brings his arm back over his chest, bowing quickly to King Jacob.  "Your Highness, allow me to speak upon this morning. Prince Eric and we of his group, arrived here after 18 days of travel. Once we arrived here in Dawn, we headed towards the meeting at the 'Dancing Dragon' tavern. Not long after our arrival, however, a strange young man had fallen through the roof of the tavern. As soon as said individual was up on his feet, he started casting magic at other patrons of the tavern sporadically, causing chaos as some patrons started to lash out in the fray. Prince Erik quickly took action, ordering several of us to aid patrons out of the tavern, as he jumped into the brawl and tried to apprehend the mad Mage. Plans changed though, as said mage's fire magic caught the tavern alight and we made our exit. It was at that time we came out to the waiting if you guards and soldiers of Monos, who of course, brought us to you."

[Assistant]
Prince Erik Reighn - Dawn, Miricia

King Jacob listened to Zachary's explanation about the day's events carefully, feeling the need to address it first. "I see. Then, this mage, is he laguz?"

"Human," Erik replied curtly.

"Human," King Jacob repeated. "We shall keep him confined to the weeks end, and release him then." The King ordered. Erik was about to protest, believing some stricter action may have been necessary for the violent mage. However, Gregory grabbed onto the Prince's arm and motioned him not to say anything. Erik was tempted to ignore his companions behest, but ultimately decided this was for the best.

The young King Jacob furrowed his brows and glared at Gerwazy. "Allow me to explain one thing," The young ruler began. He grasped onto the throne room vigorously. "The sub-humans of Miricia are my people, not yours," Jacob snapped. "You are allowed here simply because I wanted to figure out what happened to my father."

"Then let us figure out what happened to him," Erik interjected, as he rose and took a step forward. "Your highness, your father and I were good friends. I fought with him. I laughed with him. I cried with him. Let me bring the bastard that did this to justice."

King Jacob fell silent for a moment. A shorter, portly man whispered into the King's ear. Erik didn't necessarily recognize him, but his garb was very much something typical of Monos. Erik was beginning to dislike the involvement of the northern nation more and more. Yet as of now, Erik was more concerned about finding out more about his friend's death. "Very well. On behalf of Miricia, I would charge you to bring back the traitor who murdered my father, King Temerus, to face the King's justice."

"I... king Jacob, surely you don't really believe that the laguz King of Miricia was behind this, do you?" Erik asked the young King.

"Of course I do!" Jacob exploded angrily. "All the signs point to him. He is guilty, and he must pay."

Erik shook his head. "We can't know for sure. A better idea would be to investigate here first, and-"

"While we wait here," Albert, the mustached commander interjected. "Derak protects Temerus. What if he flees through their aid? What if he departs and is never heard from again? Even if what you say is true, and Temerus has not done anything, then hear it from his own mouth. Show us that he has nothing to hide. Clear his name, if you must."

Erik gritted his teeth. This wasn't what he had planned to do. A trip to Derak would take time. It would be a couple weeks journey at least, and that's if it was a straight shot. And Erik knew the likelihood of finding actual clues more likely in Miricia itself. Yet Erik knew now his best bet was to first clear up the matter with Temerus. Even if there was a small chance he could have done it, the sooner they ruled him out, the better. Erik looked at Albert, and then toward the two Monosian knights from before, Joriah and Derius. Their involvement here was even more troubling, but Erik saw now way to help it now.

"All right," Erik finally conceded. "I'll go to Derak and clear this up. And when I return, I'll find the answers I seek."

The King leaned back in his chair, a look of satisfaction on his face. "Good. I presume you will have a team with you on your travels?"

"Gregory and Zachary will accompany me," Erik replied as he looked over his knights. He then glanced at Gerwazy, then the wolf and raven laguz beside him, not sure what to make of them at this point.

"And the bird, dragon and wolf?" Albert asked the prince. "What's their part in all of this?" Erik fell silent and looked toward the two, figuring he'd give them to explain for themselves their involvement, if any really.

[User] Gerwazy was quite disappointing that he did not get the answer he wanted, but decided to keep it to himself. "I can assure you," He says. "That I am here on orders to protect and aide Prince Erik, so I will accompany him on this trek to catch a king." His black eyes turning a slight icy blue. "But make me one thing clear, Neither my country or I approve of this. You will be hearing from the people above me."

[Assistant]
Prince Erik Reighn - Dawn, Miricia

"It is you and your people that will be hearing of me!" King Jacob snapped at Gerwazy angrily. He then turned to Erik. "And I supposed the rest of the laguz will be joining you as well?"

Prince Erik glanced over at the wolf and raven laguz. Though he didn't want to answer for them, he felt it best that he were the one to speak at the moment, as the King was apparently too bigoted and angry to see any sort of reason with regard to the laguz. "Correct, your highness," More quietly, he whispered to the laguz. "Don't worry about this. You have no obligation to me when we leave this palace."

"Then I charge you with finding the truth and bringing the enemy Temerus back to me!" King Jacob announced, his voice echoing through the halls.

"Which apparently would be right now," Erik joked quietly to the other laguz. "I promise to find the truth, King Jacob. For your father, I promise that." He nodded, gave a quick, half effort bow, and turned to leave. Gregory gave a more pronounced bow and followed the knight out. King Jacob eyed the group as they proceeded out of the throne room.

---

"Well, that went well," Gregory murmured outside the palace gates. The group had been escorted out of the castle and back onto the streets of Dawn. "Definitely could have been worse!" He exclaimed with a warm smile.

"He's blinded by his grief, and being stupid," Erik responded curtly. "The answers to this won't be in Derak. They're here, and we're wasting time."

"My prince," Gregory began. "I know you want to find out who killed your friend, but isn't there wisdom in going to Derak?"

"I don't really care a lot about wisdom," Erik snapped. "Jacob is dead. Whoever did it has to pay."

"And I am sure justice will find him," Gregory added reassuringly. "But as much as King Jacob needed justice, so too does Temerus, does he not? Do not the people, the laguz of Miricia deserve it? We have to clear Temerus's name too. So that peace can come back here."

"And what if he actually did do it?" Erik asked his knight companion.

Gregory shrugged. "Then justice will be served."

Erik glanced at his friend for a long while, before he looked over to the others. "What do you all believe?" He asked, before he addressed the laguz besides Gerwazy. "And by the way, you are under no obligation to stay with my group any longer. Your business is your own."


[System]
Gender
Male
Age
23
Appearance
With typical Darcsen blue-black hair and a thin beard, Harald is nothing special. His off-duty wear consists of a well-worn traditional Darscen robe adapted for his former role as a police officer with a number of leather straps and sewn in pouches. When in his uniform, Harald shows his heritage with a sash worn across the chest.
Rank
Sergeant, Squad 4 NCO Commanding
Class
Scout
Weapons and Equipment

Gallian S1 Rifle and bayonet
Grenade bandoleer with space for three B-Type M1 grenades
Small Ragnaid canister and first aid pouch
Gallian Police Constabulary Service Revolver, .38 cal
Personality
Like many of his Darcsen brethren, Harald is calm and collected, possessed of patience born from a lifetime's persecution. He is likely to bite his tongue and walk away when provoked, but rest assured he will have his vengeance in the end, even if it is a petty one. When in the presence of someone who can see beyond his dark hair, Harald is relaxed and friendly, the very picture of a smiling bobby on the beat. He treats his subordinates like his own children and is prone to occasional fits of paternal rage if they are hurt or wronged.

Bio
The Gallian Police Constabulary rarely admits Darcsen as constables, but in the southern town of Rinneheim there are exceptions. Years ago the town was home to a large ragnite refinery and its itinerant population of Darcsen workers; even once the refinery went bankrupt and the industrialists moved on, the workers stayed to settle. By the time of the Second Europan War, Rinneheim was home to hundreds of Darcsen in various professional capacities, making it both a cultural melting pot and a tempting target for regular slaving raids from across the border. In order to maintain its appearance as a national force, the GPC loosened its recruitment criteria and a young man named Harald became the first Darcsen constable in the region.

Having lost his parents to disease and being bereft of siblings, Harald was raised on the street. His early years were nothing special; a mix of begging, stealing and odd jobs. During his compulsory military education he specialised in reconnaissance and demolitions, hoping to perhaps enter the Gallian Army upon graduation. Even his career with the GPC was uneventful, as Rinneheim was a peaceful city with little crime. However as the years rolled on and tensions rose across Europa, Imperial raids across the border escalated and the GPC soon found itself working as adhoc border guards. Failure by the government and the military to protect border towns such as Rinneheim led to growing unrest among the Darcsen minority, often the target of slave raids and sometimes outright ethnic cleansing.

Finding himself caught between these two opposing forces, Harald became disillusioned with his role as a constable and began to drift away from his increasingly right-wing co-workers. As March 1935 rolled around, Harald was questioning his life and role in society, questioning whether his loyalty should be to his state or his people. The events of that day in early March soon gave him his answer.

RP Sample
A lone figure strolled down Rinneheim's main street, his breath crystallising in the early morning air. AM beats were always his favourite; the air was crisp and fresh, the people too groggy to cause problems. He thought of it as a pleasant walk after a good morning coffee at the station. He rounded a corner, entering the area known among his fellow constables as Darktown, home to Rinneheim's vibrant Darcsen community. The change in atmosphere was sudden and drastic; Darktown was alive with the sounds of industry as a dozen blacksmiths plied their trade and apprentices ran to and fro across the street. The policeman smiled, nodding to the occasional worker as he rolled a cigarette. Just as he was sparking up, a melodic voice floated down from a second story window. 'Morning Harry! Still hung over?' The copper flashed one irate finger in reply as he walked on, not even deigning to look at the young woman. 'Oh really? Really, Harald? Same place, same time tonight or I'll rip your balls off!'

The same old jokes, same old banter. Such was life in Darktown, where everyone knew one another, had grown up together; the same couldn't be said for the rest of the town. The up-town beat was Harald's least favourite, where the shop owners sneered as he passed, people crossed the street to avoid him... and worst off, the little old ladies never invited him in for a cup of tea. Philistines. As he strolled through the ghetto he passed the occasional empty building, barren and silent... The Imperial raids had grown worse recently, with entire families taken in the night. He shuddered to think what fate awaited those taken by the raiders, especially considering the... examples they sometimes left behind. Harald found himself subconsciously reaching for his old service revolver, conflicting feelings of outrage and responsibility weighing down on him. If things didn't change soon, if the government didn't take steps to protect its citizens... He glanced around morosely, reflecting on how fragile a place like Darktown was. If those raids ever became something more concrete... He stopped himself. Such pessimism had no place in the eyes of a on-duty constable. Squaring his shoulders and lighting up another cigarette, Harald set off toward the station to begin his next beat.

I want to be Nancy Dufour's Onii-chan.

[User]
Pvt. Callaway
Squad 04

Veronica's day started the usual military way: By getting yelled at. She was used to it, a little. Of course she didn't like the fact that the sleeping arrangements were co-ed. Not that she didn't trust her comrades but because it just made things really awkward. She had to change in the bathroom before going to bed. She slept in her PT uniform, as was regulation. T-shirt and shorts, with everything else in the locker beside the bed.

The girl shook her head, trying to clear the cobwebs out, then hopped out of bed and got her shoes and socks on. She was out the door and ready for the fall-in formation in seconds.

[Assistant]
Evan & Lilly's Post
"Eugh..." It wasn't so much the Darcsen's voice that woke him (for he was a heavy sleeper), but the sudden stampede of militia men running for their gear. Fuuuuck... they just came back from a battle, why were they doing PT so early... Evan rolled over, tumbled out of bed and onto the floor with a dull thud before staggering to his feet and haphazardly changing into PT gear. Damn fuckin' Darcsen, fuckin' PT early morning bullshit. In the back of his mind, Evan wondered if he'd still have to have put up with this if they'd just left the bloody dark hair to die. Shirt went on, then boots went on... then boots came off as he realized he needed to put on pants. Evan's dressing speed was usually slow, but his lack of sleep and judgment was compounding issues further. By the time he finally sauntered out to the group assembling outside it was clear he was one of the last ones there. Not that he cared, mind you. Being low on sleep had a tendency of making him not give a shit about... well, just about anything and he was confident that his strength (which was significant) would carry him through any additional pushups he was assigned.

Lilly on the other hand, was one of the first out the door. Though she was out the minute her head hit the pillow, her sleep was light and haunted by nightmares. It didn't take much to wake her up, and by the time Harald had finished his yelling, she was already in the process of putting on her socks. ~180 seconds later, she was outside and standing at ease in formation, letting the others mark off of her. While her abilities in combat seemed to have plateaued (probably due to her panic attacks), her ability to get up and dressed in a short period of time was still readily improving. Her appearance almost looked normal this time.

[User]
Lance Corporal Eris Reinhardt

Fort Breda ❖ Next Morning

Well, it seemed like Eris had lost her chance to get settled with most of the rest of the Squad after her transfer. Hopefully, she would be able to do that today. Though, she was initially startled by the thought that they wold have to use a single dormitory for the whole of the Squad, men and women alike. That said, it wasn't a very improper idea when you think about the fact that they would have to eventually sleep beside one another while in the battlefield. As long as the regulations were respected, there was no need to be overly prudish.

On the following morning, Eris was one of the first to wake up, mainly because she was used to doing so, like most people who live in the countryside. Also, there was the fact that she didn't have any tiredness to shake off. As such, she was geared and ready to... PT? (well, looks like that was the best way for the Command to reward a Squad that just came back from combat without making them feel too much at home, huh?). Either way, she was ready and standing at attention besides the others as soon as the Sergeant called.

One thing that Eris couldn't help but notice, as she spared a moment to glance around those already lined, was how many women were part of Squad 04. "At least I'm not going to be alone in a male dominated Squad," Eris thought, letting out suppressed sigh of relief. For once she though what would be if she got her promotion to Lieutenant a few years ago? But then, what would happen when people found out that she was of Imperial origins? "It's no use thinking about those issues. Just calm yourself and do what you are told as long as you don't stick out too much, people won't be pointing fingers at you, Eris..." the silver-haired woman thought, steeling her stance and glancing forward. Even then, the way she held her equipment close to her, made it quite clear how nervous Eris was.

@Massasauga @Lennon79

[Assistant]
Sergeant Harald, Gallian Militia
0535 April 17th, 1935 EC
Fort Breda, Gallia

As the last few seconds ticked away, Harald drained his cup, flicked away the dead cigarette and marched purposefully back out to the waiting squad. En-route he passed Carn still pulling himself together. 'In your own time PFC...' He couldn't say he was surprised by the driver's lack of enthusiasm; Carn had performed well in the field, but wasn't one for discipline. Probably served him better in this outfit than a more... orthodox one. Regardless, the rest of the squad was stood outside to attention, by and large looking pretty good for the time of day. 'Good morning ladies and gentlemen. Feels good to be back with you after Vasel; I hear you gave 'em hell.' Mild overstatement judging by the mission reports, but the Sergeant rather suspected Squad 4's contributions had been downplayed by the writers. No officer would willingly give praise to a squad not led by one of their own. 'Most of you remember me I'm sure, but I do see the odd new face, which means it's time for that same introductory spiel once more. My name is Sergeant Harald and I will be your squad leader for this war. I'm a police officer by trade and not a soldier, so I will try to treat you like my co-workers instead of my subordinates. I hope you all do the same. On the other side of the base, bells began to ring, signalling the arrival of the first morning convoy. All going well, the squad's new toys should be arriving with them. 'While I'd love to have a meet and greet, we need to start off with some PT. First off, hundred star jumps in full kit; spread out a metre apart and start when ready. Hunt, you count reps, there's a good chap. Those of you who were late, looking at you Carn, make it a hundred twenty.' As the squad grudgingly set themselves up for the PT, Harald took a position along the line to join in. 'Ready and... count!'

___________________________________________

After a good hour of basic exercise and runs, Harald called everyone back together and with a whistle, called over a lad with a brace of water canteens. 'Good reps people; have a drink and take a knee. Got about... half hour to waste, so relax.' As the squad settled in to recuperate, a truck ground to a halt just outside of the barrack house and a young militiaman jogged over. 'Sergeant Harald, Squad 4? Got your delivery here; four munitions crates, one medical, one private goods and one recruit. Please sign here.' Once he had Harald's signature, the man jogged back over and began unloading. Another lad hopped down off the truck, apparently their newest member. 'Morning Private!', Harald yelled over. 'You're over here with us.'


[System]
Anything with an asterisk is an edit for the arena.

Timore Scarborough

Theme
Alias: N/A.
Nicknames: Timmy.
Age: 21. *26
Species: Human.
Relations: None.

Appearance: Timore prefers to war scarves along with neutral colored T-shirts and jeans. Metentis can be found wrapped around his left arm, his ring on his right ring finger, and his necklace around his neck. He has an earring in each ear and they are typically small triangles or small diamonds with no crystal or the like to speak of.

General Activity – Musician: As a Musician at the Academy he spends his time in class and socializing here and there. He also loves to just find a place to play.

Personality: Oh, you'll see.

Biography: All you need to know is he's grown up with a passion for music, and magic, all his life. Beyond that it's only notable that he has no family to speak of, though no one seems to know that, and that he is a bit of a troublemaker. He joined the Academy only recently and thus has yet to really make any friends.
Equipment:

Fulcrum: A necklace purchased from at a shady establishment for enchanted, or anamolous, items, Fulcrum has the passive ability to absorb nearby emotions and essence. With minimal skill and individual can draw forth these things from it and use them for their own purposes. Fulcrum can be used in a more active fashion to actually sap emotions from people consciously, but this process is incredibly gradual and only works through pulling at the essence of those nearby. The object cannot work on anyone thirty meters from its location. Prolonged exposure its effects can cause mood swings, depression, apathy, and emotional exhaustion.

*Timore can release the emotions/essence within Fulcrum and manipulate them with Metentis. Fulcrum currently has no essence within it, but plenty of emotions.

Metentis(Harvester): The instrument given to him by the Academy a few years prior to his moving to his apartment near its location. This instrument is always kept spiralled around his wrist and it has several essential methods of use. Timore can use it as a whip, allowing it to become a dangerous implement that he can channel his essence through so as to instigate a severing effect on any essence it comes into contact with. When it is kept around his wrist, Timore can channel his essence through it with incredible precision to instigate different notes, which can influence the emotions of others. In this state it is capable of invoking only two major emotions in those it effects, and Timore will be incapable of deciding who its notes are directed at. The two emotions are fear and love.

The third use is the traditional method that the intrument can be utilized, which is by unwinding it from his wrist, straightening it out, and allowing it to temporarily become rigid. In this state it acts much like a mixture of a flute and a saxophone, though the music it produces is much more akin to a flute. In this state Metentis is in what is nearly its optimal form and thus it can manipulate the emotions of the listener(s) to varying extents depending on the skill of the user. Metentis' final form is instigated by feeding it emotional energy, and raw essence, allowing it to become considerably larger in both thickness and length, and act as an actual snake does. In this state the instrument's mentality becomes quite apparent and it can, to some measure, act on its lonesome.

In terms of Metentis' personality, the instrument is a ravenous deceiver, considering people to be as a winery is to wine, worth something only for the emotions they produce. Its creators marveled at how coherent the serpent's mind and thoughts appear to be, but in actuality there is quite a bit of chaos that goes on in the instrument's twisted little mind. However, many of the personalities held within it have agreed to cooperate with the one who refers to itself as Metentis, as this particular being –who was once a demon-- seeks almost solely to feed them as a whole. Yet, secretly, Metentis wishes to escape the instrument's form and regain his own body, something that has so far been a slow and grueling process. In terms of communication, Metentis is capable of speaking with Timore telepathically and verbally through the mouth of the flute. Metentis has had several players over the years, but all of them have, thus far, succumbed to various ailments, be they mental or otherwise. However, the instrument thinks that it's current wielder, Timore, holds much promise....

*Metentis can attempt to influence emotions, but it takes time (preps) for the effect to actually work properly. He must either charge essence in the flute to create an effect that will immediately become useful, or he has to continuously play the flute.

Praecisio: The concealed form of his not so inconspicuous weapon, this ring is in actuality an enchanted weapon, which has shifted its shape to its master's will. It is actually a rather dangerous curved sword, which feeds on the blood of those it cuts. While the blade is plainly demonic in nature, it has no aura to speak of unless it has recently been fed. When it has been fed the blade will cause others near it to feel uneasy. Praecisio sucks out blood or essence when it cuts something. On living things it leaves behind a burning sensation on the wound, which fades over the space of a minute.

Physical and Mental Capabilities

Athletic Physique: While he does in fact enjoy playing his instrument, Timore makes it a point to stay in shape and thus goes to the Gym tri-weekly as well as practicing mixed martial arts at a nearby establishment. Still, he is no Olympic athlete, but he does possess a considerable amount of stamina and an above average level of physical strength and speed.

Genius Flutist: Having studied, and played, the flute since he was young, Timore has a passion, and a natural talent, for it. Thus he has gained quite the level of skill throughout his years, allowing him to now play somewhere between a skilled musician and a professional.

Sweet Talker: In short, Timore is an exceptionally charming young man and is very good at getting people to think that what he wants them to do, was their own idea (and furthermore that it is a good idea). He is well acquainted with the opposite sex and how they think and happens to be a very intense hopeless romantic.

Physiological Knowledge: Having grown up with a doctor for a father, Timore was often asked questions and taught about human biology. Thus, over the years, he has gained a considerable amount of knowledge in said field both through his father, and through his own research in more recent years.

Magical Skills:

Essence Flow and Differentiation: While no mage, Timore does have some magical talent, allowing him to subtly manipulate the flow of essence both inside his own body, and in his direct vicinity. While he is not capable of too many magical feats, he can amplify his own physical attributes through manipulating the flow of his internal essence, as well as being able to cause some basic phenomena in his direct vicinity. Specifically Timore is able to create pulses or generate a push or pull utilizing his own essence. Timore, through his unique synesthesia, and ability to manipulate the flow of essence, is capable of differentiating between different types of essence. This allows him to recognize the use of different forms of magic within a half a mile or so, but only if it is fairly strong. The closer it is to him, the easier it is for him to sense. Additionally, he can typically tell someone's race as well. He could learn how to read people's emotions through this ability with time.

Magical Synesthesia: Born with this, Timore has lived his life learning to cope with this strange trait. To specify what exactly it does, Timore's synesthesia allows him to not only see essence in colors around him and other people, but it also allows him to hear emotions in people's voices. Timore's sight is much more potent than his hearing, likely due to his body's attempt to cope with the bustling environment of society. Still, because of this, Timore prefers to stay away from places with massive crowds.

*Essence Manipulation: Timore can weave essence into simple constructs such as barriers, blades or other fairly simple implements. He can charge essence with emotions imparting different effects, which he can then weaponize. All weaponized/emotion charged essence requires at least 1 prep to infuse before it can be utilized. The more preps the stronger the effect.

>1 prep is a very weak effect.
>Combining emotions requires 1 uninterrupted prep--can dodge, but not block or attack during this prep.

Rage: Containing a great amount of malcontent and destructive influence, any essence infused with this emotion can explode or burn those touching it, including the user. Can be explosive.

Joy: Charges anything touched with incredible energy. This energy can, if too greatly infused, cause an explosion. However, things touched by the explosion are strengthened rather than harmed, becoming more durable.

Love: Slightly reinforces things touched by the infused essence. However, has the primary effect of repairing or healing things in contact with itself.

Despair: Degrading effect, causes things in contact with the infused essence to gradually deteriorate be they physical or energetic.

[User]
Timore Scarborough
Initialization

---

Reaching his destination he placed a hand on a tree trunk four trees away from the one which his target was in. He smiled and then turned around, leaning against the tree. He'd felt something pass over him, though he wasn't quite sure what it had been. Now in position he let essence trail around the ring before he flipped it into the air, making it clearly visible, before it suddenly fired forwards and directly at the girl. His essence traveled up through the tree behind him and his tongue continued to click as he hummed. The energy continued to gather upon the mechanical object. Perhaps his maneuver would get her to do something.

If not he'd be rather disappointed really.

[Assistant]
The ring began to accumulate a disturbance. Katheryn's real body remained still, although she wished to tense for a dodge, but she knew her heightened senses would prepare her. Suddenly, if one swift movement, the ring, heavy with disturbance and gaining more, find quickly at her. She knew she was too weak to deflect it, and that disturbance would make it even more powerful she was sure. All the while, the man continued humming. It was beginning to bug her, as if he was laughing in her face. Shaking the thoughts away, Katheryn realized that this set the fact in stone that he had a partner. He himself did not have enough disturbance to view her himself, but his green-eyed coil did. The tree behind him gained a disturbance. He was about halfway inbetween the center and the edge of her range.

Gathering all her speed, after that lightning-fast chain of thought due to the Wiring, Katheryn broke the connection and rolled her head, which the ring was aimed at, to one side as if stretching. The ring shot past, barely missing her. She rolled her head around a bit more, as if mocking his 'act' with another. Well, that and the short maneuver was all she had time for. She hoped that the coil was watching, and relaying it to the man all the while. Katheryn smirked.

[User]
Timore Scarborough
Once Veiled Intentions

---

So she'd decided to dodge eh? Amusing. His left hand, the one that had flicked the ring, moving up and stroking his hair back, causing the string of invisible essence to tug on the ring after it had flown 2 meters behind his target, Timore began his maneuver. He continued humming as the ring practically slingshotted back towards the woman's back. He grinned, activating the essence he'd sent into the ring. It swiftly morphed into a blade, poised to stab the girl in the back if she didn't move. Only problem is if she moved to her right, the string would tag her with essence, or better yet, cut her and impede her movement some due to its being reinforced by his humming. He was channeling emotion through the essence, emotions of joy, which reinforced essence it was in. This meant that she'd have to move down or up to escape the strike, as the trunk of the massive tree upon which she was perched was located to her left.

Each of his actions had been calculated and this one was no exception. His essence he had placed within the tree earlier was gathering more from the tree and spreading throughout its form. He wondered if he could weaken its energy enough to cause it to collapse.

He'd find out soon enough. For now, he had only the girl to focus on.


[System]
Age: 15

Year: 1st

Nationality: Japanese

Appearance:

Personality: Mami is a withdrawn and introverted girl, quietly sticking to the background of events and doing her best not to be noticed by others. Social interaction, you see, is quite difficult for her to get her head around, and so she avoids it the best she can, rarely talking to her fellow classmates and getting everything done as quickly as possible so that she minimises the time spent in public. Indeed, she is much like a deer in the headlights of an incoming eighteen-wheeler when forced to engage in niceties with people, shyly doing her best to manoeuvre herself out of the situation, or, if incapable of doing so, speaking as little as possible. She fears the embarrassment that she believes she will cause for herself by interacting with others, a fear that can be evident from her low, quiet tones and tendency to utilise filler words so that her mouth doesn't stumble over itself and crash and burn like Mariner 1 in the North Atlantic.

In her heart, however, the girl truly wishes to overcome her difficulties in social situations, forever yearning to be able to engage in meaningful conversation with others without turning skittish and trying to run. Though she is fond of keeping to herself, one of her dearest wishes is to make a friend that will be there for her, one whose presence will be neither disturbing nor unwanted by her. As such, Mami frequently consults self-help books in her spare time, trying to conquer her low self-esteem and undeveloped socialisation skills as quickly as possible. She can be incredibly hesitant and uncomfortably shy, but deep underneath there is a strongly honed sense of determination and boldness that drives her through life (one that is noted through her many attempts at running from others) that she seeks to apply to her interaction with the public (currently failing, but despite her moroseness, she has yet to really give up).

Her interests lie mainly in the domain of nice-looking hats, but she also engages in the activities of writing in her diary (a simple, black bound exercise book), watching sports on the telly (she is also especially superstitious, as can be seen from her near-religious belief in the "Curse of the Colonel") and magic tricks. The latter was picked up in order to further her attempts at socialising with others, but her complete lack of friends and general avoidance of people have prevented her from showing any of her tricks off. She helplessly tries to keep a dignified manner as well, but the attempts are usually ruined upon contact with the outside world as she dorks around in life.

Bio: A native of the southern prefecture of Kagoshima, Mami was born as the heiress of an agricultural company, one that mainly dealt in the growing and selling of rice and rice products. From her earliest years, she was raised with the expectation that she would inherit the position of chair(wo)man from her father, and so was provided with the very best in education in order to establish the foundations she would require when running the company in the future. As a naturally meek and shy girl, the pressure weighed upon her intensely, forcing her deeper into a shell and straining her relationship with her parents. Becoming a major player in the rice industry was something that was greatly intimidating for her, and though she performed all the duties requested of her with little resistance, the goal set out by her family was not one that she really felt keen on. Her relationship with her mother and father, due to this, slowly degraded as time went on, and while there was still love between them, she grew distant from them, not really experiencing the gentleness that existed between other families.

School was no different for her, with any acquaintances she originally made soon becoming strangers as she retreated further and further from society, becoming a mere introverted girl on the edges of social life. She had no friends, no real connections, and while she did decently in her work, felt as if she was far inferior to everyone else. It was a tough time for Mami, as her self-esteem was non-existent, and her enjoyment of life was barely present. It was only through the intervention of a teacher that she began to try and improve herself, starting to religiously keep a diary and attempt at reaching out to others. However, even with her new vigour, she constantly failed, frightened and reclusive when faced with other people, and by the time she left middle school, she had progressed nowhere.

Her acceptance into Nakkashiro Gakuen, a prestigious school where she could hopefully find herself a fresh, new start, is where she hopes to change herself for the better.

Other: She is fluent in the Kagoshima dialect, and tends to speak overly formally (when she speaks, that is).

[User]
"M-meat?" Oh, that was not a good nickname at all. Still, she might have meant it in a nice way. Maybe.

How can 'Meat' be a compliment, you dolt?

...

 Probably shouldn't have put too much thought into it...

And she said it so aggressively - like she was trying to intimidate her or something. Admittedly, she didn't know much about this girl in particular, but if a friend at home had spoke to her like that she'd assume they were upset with her. However this could simply be her way of talking. She wove expletives into her commentary like a quilt, so maybe she was just the rough type.

Trying to deviate slightly, she asked something mundane to relieve the pressure "Hmm? What's that you picked up?"

Hmm. She was holding the door for her. Maybe she wasn't as rough as she thought. Or maybe she was and Leagsaidh had just hit it off well. Either way, that was good news.

"Go raibh maith agat." She winked as she passed by but was unable to repress a shiver. Being this close to the girl, she could see her many muscles in all their glory. She could snap Leagsaidh like a twig if she wanted to. Best to keep on her good side. "Lead the way, would you kindly?"

"So you grew up in Brazil, huh? What was that like? I've always wanted to go, but Father said that it wasn't a country he thought worth going to. But come on - Christ the Redeemer, the Carnaval, Iguazu Falls - it's a cultural wonder!" She stopped and laughed nervously "Sorry. Here I am, going on like I know what I'm talking about. You'll know more than me."

[Assistant]
HITOMI KIBIYASHI

Time went by rather quickly for the third year student. Hitomi had her head already buried in a binder of curriculum for the coming year; not wanting to be caught off guard by what was to come. Before she knew it the gates had opened and was instructed to head to the auditorium, just like every year. Hitomi closed the binder and wrapped her left arm around it and hugged it to her bosom as the right reached down and picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder. She shuffled in with the rest of the students and into the auditorium, scooting past a few other students to find an open seat near the front. Sitting down she stuffed her back beneath her chair and sat her binder on her lap after making sure the uniform skirt was pulled down on her thighs.

Curiously her bright blue eyes looked around, seeing familiar and new faces from either transfers or first years. After a few minutes of peaking around she heard the principle begin to talk. She sat back properly in her seat and remained quiet during the proceedings. This was the third time she had to sit through the dreadfully boring ceremonies but she remained as quiet and reverent as the two years previous. Remembering the exactly time it ended she had already began to gather her things once against and stood, brushing the back of her skirt flat before scooting out of the isle and moving into the hall.

Hitomi knew which dorm was for the third years and so she headed straight for it. As she was walking she noticed the infamous Thalia, obviously having skipped the ceremonies as per usual. She sighed softly under her breath but kept walking, it was non of her business; at least not until she returned to the student counsel.

Hitomi continued on and within no time had found her room, checking the name it was Illa Wronski, she wasn't really sure if she had a face to put to the name but letting it be for the time being. She pushed through the door and looked around the nice room; it was empty. Hitomi assumed she was the first in the room. So she set down her things near her designated bed. Before heading out to the homeroom she hopped over to the mirror. Quickly looking over her appearance and making sure her blouse and skirt were clean and neatly pressed. She smiled as she was happy with her appearance and out the room she went and towards homeroom; binder hugged at her chest casually.

---

ISABELLA VEGA

Young Bella was terribly late. Having slept in far too long due to a good dream she ignored her alarm subconscious; something she was beating herself up for. As she ran down the street she constantly readjusted her large bag, seeming incredibly large in comparison to the slender girl. She may have gone overboard with clothes and stuffed animals but she couldn't resist. They were all so cute she couldn't leave them behind. Bella dashed through the gates and barreled down the courtyard towards the auditorium. Luckily having been her second year she knew the campus rather well.

Bella thanked the heavens as she arrived shortly before the doors had closed and slipped in, wiggling and swaying between people as she found a seat in the very back. She flopped into her seat and huffed a heavy sigh. She was out of breath from the long run and the heavy pack. She took a little bit to catch her breath before pushing herself upright in the chair and brushed her fingers through her hair to try and straighten it out the best she could without a mirror.

During the ceremony Isabella was rather restless, tapping on her legs and quietly as she could humming to herself. Even the first time she had to sit through this it was a bore fest. Minute after passing minute Bella seemed to sink more and more into her chair from the crushing boredom. Finally it was over. The hyper active second year hopping up from her chair and stretching her tired body; getting all the useless bored germs off of herself with a little shake. She lifted her big bag with a small strained groan and headed out with the mass of students. She started making her way towards the dorms. She wasn't proud of the fact but it took her a rather long time before actually finding her dorm room. She pushed through the door to see it empty. She shrugged and slipped her bag off her shoulder and onto the floor near her bed. Thinking it wouldn't hurt to lay down for a second she hopped and rolled into bed, sprawling out on top of the covers. She sighed comfortable. Letting her body relax into the bed.

[User]
Noriko "Yoshida, Well I guess we should go in." Noriko looked down and into the empty room. "I'm not particular on either top or bottom so please go ahead. I will just put my suitcase under the bed." After pushing the suitcase under the bed she turned to the door. Yoshida was pretty, and taller. The way she moved made Noriko think Yoshida was a dancer or some type of martial artist. She could see Yoshida was just as shy as she was and let out a sigh of relief. Noriko didn't know what to expect until now and was glad this confrontation was over. "Ok I'm going to my home room. Nice meeting you." Noriko darted out of the room and down the hall holding her hand to her chest as she made her way to class.

Naomi: She waited as long as she could if Naomi had a room mate she was probably in class already. Maybe it was her luck day and she had the room to herself? The answer would have to wait. Naomi would need to sprint if she going to make it to class. She made sure the door to the room was secure and started to sprint.

She mad it to class and sat in one of the few available chairs. She looked around to see who would be in her life for the upcoming year......

[Assistant]
Nakkashiro Touka | 永花城　十花

"So that's why" Touka said as Seika answered her questions, she had a sliver of doubt that it might be the case, but still to know that Seika had gone to such lenghts just because of her made Touka quite happy "Thank you, Onee-chan, I love you."

However, when she noticed how sad her sister got when she turned her down, Touka turned away from Seika, to hide her embarrassment as she said "If you really think that I can be a good Vice-President, Onee-chan, I'll do my best to not let you down. Sorry if I hurt you." On these situations Touka never knew who was supposed to be the little sister, as Seika's dejected face always succeeded in convincing Touka of anything. "I'm glad to see that you're still the same as always, though." She finished the statement with a bit of sweet sarcasm very characteristic of her, leaving her sister to wonder if that was a compliment or not.

"Also, I want to join the Swim Club, yes. But I'd appreciate if no one had to have their legs broken because of me, Onee-chan. Hahaha!" This last sentence was actually meant to be joke in answer to Seika's own and thus, Touka broke out in a very rare laughter -something only Seika ever had seen- before going back to the door and saying "It's almost time for homeroom to start. I guess that we'll see each other again during lunch, then? Unless you're going to say that you messed with the homerooms too. You didn't, or did you Onee-chan?"

.@Spriggs27

[User]
All she could do was nod weakly in return as her shadowed eyes followed her roommate's rapid departure from their shared dorm. The moment she could no longer hear the pattering of footsteps upon the floorboards, Mami allowed herself to let out a breath she had not realised she had been holding in. That had ... gone better than she had expected. Her heart was still pounding loudly within her chest, but she was calming down. The other girl was gone now. Gone. Left the room. She was now alone and no longer accompanied by people who frightened her.

She slowly shifted her gaze to the suitcase sitting by her. The shivers were gone now, but the butterflies in her stomach continued to remain. It was hard ... frightening and scary and horrifying ... to really stay around people. Mami wanted to change that. She really wanted (I want to make friends!) to ensure that she wasn't going to skitter away from everything in fear. Her meeting with the roommate ... she hadn't run away. The very thought of it was warming, and a light blush tinged her cheeks. She'd talked to somebody without getting too overblown and scared! It was a small triumph, but if it could decide the rest of her school life ...

She had to keep it up.

Firstly however, the hat-wearing girl immediately lifted up her own suitcase, moving it over to the bottom bunk. She wasn't too good with heights, and sleeping above somebody else scared her. The other girl ... Noriko Murakami ... she wouldn't mind her, right? Mami hoped she had heard properly.

And-

Her eyes glanced up at a clock ticking on the wall.

Class.

She meeped.

Mami grabbed the bag she had prepared before arriving at the academy and ran.