[System]
Gender:

Female

Age:

27

Birthplace:

Glasgow, Scotland.

Appearance:

Personality:

Aloof, impatient, strategizing, understanding, merciful, logical, prefers dark humor.

Occupation before the breakout:

Dog trainer, specializing in attack and police training while attending college.

Skills:

Dealing with animals, more specifically dogs and horses. Medicine and botany.

Fears/incompetencies:

Being left alone. Geese. Bad at building intimate relationships with people. Has an addictive personality.

Equipment:

One large duffel bag. Two .44 Desert Eagles. Ammunition. One envelope opener. One pocket knife. One broken rusty pipe. One 10 pound dumbbell. One canine unit by the name of Themistocles (Alaskan Malamute, male, alive). One flare. Three glowsticks. One can-opener. One package of plastic eating utensils. Three med kits. Three packages of sanitary wipes. One medium sized bag of dry dog food. Six cans of random soup. Two loaves of bread. One photo album. One jade rosary.

Group:

On her own with the dog.

History:

Rowena was born of a one-night-stand between her Scottish mother and American father. The only reason she was brought to America two years after she'd been born was because her mother was looking for the man. Unfortunately, she didn't find him. Just sunk her teeth into the nicest and richest man she could find as soon as she could so that Rowena could have a life of some kind. The divorce happened when Rowena was eight years old and after that, the men just came and went like the news. Nothing interesting.
Her neighbor's father got her interested in guns, training her carefully until she was able to hold her own with a weapon. The man took her out to the farm he owned, out far in the countryside, teaching her how about wildlife and the plants that grew in the nearby forest. Every now and again he'd let her watch as he treated and cared for his horses. But it was the dog that Rowena grew most fond of. It was a skinny thing that ran faster than anything she'd ever seen. That sparked her interested in dogs, pushing her to take up training them on the side.
Eventually she left home and started post-secondary education as well, Themistocles given to her as a congratulatory gift when she was accepted into her program of choice. Rowena was close to finishing up her program when the outbreak started,uprooting all her efforts and sending her life into turmoil. She'd travelled back home only to find her mother dead and her step-father gone, a note of 'be safe mody' on the floor being the only comfort she had. So after a second rage-filled breakdown she began preparing herself and Themistocles for the worst, heading out into the storm in hopes of finding survivors.

[User] Slightly worried about the man outside all on his own in a bad state of mind, Rowena was thinking of sending Themistocles in after him, but realized she'd rather not be separated from her dog and so she just kept him close, rubbing her fingers along the edged of his pointed ears. She looked in the direction of the man speaking, realizing the it was the man that had reached for her dog. If he agreed with Ethan's views that'd be rather strange of him then, to reach for a dog that could've been violent or untrustworthy. It just made her smile a sad smile internally as she listened. Ah, so there had been a reason as to why everyone was so broody and on edge. Walkers and death was nothing new to her anymore, nothing to grieve over because she didn't have anything to lose. But these people might've been in a different situation and they might've not only gained traumatic experiences but lost people they loved. The woman hadn't had any experience with that sort of thing since she'd discovered her mother's corpse but she most definitely remembered her grief and anger, along with the weeks that followed. The weeks of coping that finally subsided as she finalized her survival plan and moved into the sewers. So she understood to some degree what they might have been going through and sighed, taking the baseball cap off for a minute and running her fingers through her hair. " I see. Well if that's the case, I do apologize. I was obviously oblivious," she said but not taking back her words. She still did mean what she'd said, though now she understood why the group were as they were. " I just want to help," she said, glancing around the room, her dog completely and utterly uninterested in the exchange of words.

[Assistant]
Collaboration with @josephb@Aerandir

Nikki said "Excuse me" to Jason and she followed Ethan outside. Katana at the ready she looked around, then walked over to Ethan. Her voice soft she asked "Hey, you ok? I heard." She sat down next to him and leaned her head on his shoulder and gave him a one armed hug. Nikki felt like she had been slugged when she heard the exchange and saw the look on his face. She could only imagine how he felt and it had to be pretty crappy. She kept her head on his shoulder and let him lean into her a little. It was amazing that she and some of the others hadn't just snapped today. If she had been in his shoes she was sure that she would have.

Ethan smiled as Nikki came to console him, "I just needed a bit of fresh air." He leant into her hug and didn't really say anything. Seeing Kat had brought a load of memories back from before the infection broke out and how simple life was before when he had no cares in the world travelling around America.

Jason raised an eyebrow when the blonde guy, whom he heard was Ethan, rushed by him after blowing up at the scottish woman's questions. He did manage however to catch the door from slamming completely as he was standing right next to it. He looked around the room and noticed how most of the people reacted to him storming off, a bit of shock, and a bit of 'what now?' on their face. He glanced at Nikki as she said "Excuse me," and simply moved enough to let Nikki to go out side.

The scottish woman continued to introduce her self, and explain her situation. Licking his teeth under his lips he decided what to do, obviously the man who just stormed off was the leader. While the other man with a heavy accent and broken english engaged the woman he pushed the door open and slipped out. Closing the door behind him gently and glancing around to see Ethan just a wee bit away with Nikki with her arm around him. What were they a couple? That would make things a little more awkward for Ethan if that was the case.

Still scanning as he walked over, he flipped his safety to single shot casually, Being outside it was more safe to keep it off than on. He made it clear he was walking towards him, not to spook him in his state, but to also let Nikki know he was there. He turned around and leaned against the wall Ethan was crouched against on the opposite from Nikki and was silent for a moment. He then asked, "You doing ok there champ?" while sucking on his teeth. while he looked down at him.

Ethan looked up see one of the newcomers, leaning against the wall. He was in the army, that was clear enough from the outfit and the heavily specialised gun that the man had with him. The sun was slowly starting to set now over the ocean as Ethan thought about the question. "I don't really know to be honest." He paused for a few moments and then continued, "Sorry about what happened in there, I'm usually better at keeping my emotions in than that. What's your name? I didn't hear you mention it."

He looked around, his eyes squinting at the lowering sun. He waited a moment before speaking. "I'm Lieutenant Jason Hunter of the Navy Seals." He paused for another moment, just twice he interoduced himself with his rank...not that it really mattered out here...hell he didn't know if the Aircraft Carrier that served at his base was still there...was there a reason to still hold that title?

He glanced down at him, "Don't say sorry to me...I just met you. Say sorry to them." He said jerking his head back to the house. "I understand you just lost your home, but you also just found out your a father? You know how many people would love to find out that they have family somewhere? Even if it' s a six month old kid?"

Ethan took in everything that the man was saying to him. "I'm not upset that I'm a father, I'm just still in shock." He thought about what had happened, but he started to talk anyway, not really knowing where his thoughts would take him. "I was trying to process everything I guess... and then in the middle of that, I had a complete stranger going on about people being too cautious. I just needed to vent and she was unlucky enough to be there... I just came outside to try and come to terms with what's happened... And now there's Kat, who I met once more than a year ago and we somehow ended up in her house with my child and now that's two more people I feel like I have to look after." Ethan suddenly paused, he had no idea why he was telling this to a complete stranger, when a minute before he'd snapped at the girl for being someone he didn't know. He thought about the man giving his full name plus his rank. "Hmm, I didn't know the army was still going. Where've you come from?"

Jason scratched the back of his head,"I'm not Army, I'm Navy, As far as I know we still are. I was on my way to Coronado, Supposedly there is an Aircraft carrier that is there, and was the base of operations at least six months ago." He glanced back down at him. "Next time you want to vent, do it to a walker. Your group doesn't need to see you have a break down infront of them....It only causes them to worry and make things worse."

Ethan didn't reply to him, but he completely took in what the Lieutenant said to him. For better or worse, everyone who had survived seemed to look towards Ethan in their time of need and he needed to start being a proper leader. Hopefully he could live up to everyone's expectations.

Nikki had no idea how long they sat like that. It was getting dark. She had been listening to Jason and Ethan talking. She leaned over and kissed his cheek and turned and hugged him. "You know I'm here if you need me. If I were you though, I'd go talk to her." Nikki squeezed his hand and nodded to Jason and went back inside. She went over to the playpen where the baby was and she could see the baby was Ethan's spitting image. There was no doubt this was his child.

Jason didn't expect an answer, as a few seconds after Nikki went in, he decided to follow, Slowly making his way back to the house he gave a few more scans of the area before slipping back inside. He situated himself near the window though just to make sure Ethan was in his sights.

A few minutes after Nikki had gotten up, Ethan decided to go back inside as well. Everyone was chatting in separate groups. Lauren had fallen asleep, Ethan forgot that some people had it a lot worse than him. "Sorry about that outburst before everyone... I shouldn't have done that." He said in a much calmer voice that he'd used before. "I don't know what came over me" Then Ethan looked over to the Scottish woman, he didn't quite catch her name. "I should really apologize to you. You just wanted to help out and I shouldn't have a snapped like that." After that, he went and found Kat and simply said, "I think we need to talk." With a slight smile.

[User]
Walter Pierce

"Hey, relax-"

Walter extended an arm out in attempt to calm Ethan down before his friend had stormed outside, shaking his head. He sighed, rubbing his head in the wake of a headache. He honestly had enough of all the revelations and surprises for a day, in lieu to all of the dying and destruction he'd already seen before.

"It's not your fault," Walter told Rowena as he looked to the side where she sat, a weary smile on his features.

Being the one to have always done supply runs, he had his share of experiences when it came to speaking with outsiders. Some of those run-ins were not all-too friendly, but a lot of the times, he had returned to Dana Point to introduce a new member of their community. So why cast someone else away when they needed one another the most at this point in time?

"Rowena, is it?" he nodded to the woman. "I'm Walt."

When Nikki came back into the house, followed by the soldier and Ethan himself, Walter watched his friend apologize to Rowena before looking for the resident of the house. To be fair, they still had not debated on whether or not they could reside for the night, and the possibility of being thrown out was still reality.

Walter blinked, wondering what the night would bring; he had volunteered to watch over, after all. "Thanks for not sicking the dog on me, earlier," he said.

[Assistant]
The slightly uneasy repetitive movement of fingers over fluffy pointed ears was paused as Rowena was addressed, looking to the man who'd spoken to her and replying with a and drop of a shoulder. The corner of her mouth turned up in a half-smile as she spoke. "Maybe not but I did pull the trigger. Partially at fault, I'd say," she said, glad to hear he was willing to give her his name. She'd felt bad about the man storming out of the home and had been minutely debating following after him or sending her dog but the same thought as before stopped her. Just that she didn't want to be separated from the canine and that being alone again might have her losing the rest of her mind.
"Yes, yes it is. Pleasure to meet your acquaintance. It's nice to put a name to a face then, Walt. As for the dog, don't you worry about it. He's quite friendly but there hasn't been anyone to be friendly with lately. Poor thing's getting bored of just my company," she said with a chuckle. Themistocles looked between the two humans, judging the situation. Upon deciding it wasn't anything worth of his attention he glanced away, far more interested in the other humans he hadn't yet had the pleasure of meeting. "Have you all been together since the outbreak?"


[System]
Age: 18

Gender: male

Personality: Ronald prides himself on being as sneaky, attentive, and cunning as possible. And, of course, he is, thinking up plans on ths fly, which usually involves complexly conning someone or just outright tricking them. He's not a prankster, though, seeing petty tricks that benefit no one as beneath him. Beyond that, he's very honorable- a "steal from the rich and give to the poor" kinda guy, though replace rich with, though his interpretation on this varies. Somedays he'll steal from the evil, no matter how much money they have. So long as someone who deserves it benefits, at the end of the day it doesn't matter who he cons. Despite his overly calm nature, he tends to break under intense pressure, falling to pieces if there's a battle he can't- or thinks he can't- plan his way out of.

Backstory: Ronald was a frail, and sickly when he was young, bedridden for days at a time because he was almost unable to move without barfing- not that it mattered because he barely had the energy to move. Needless to say, he was a miserable kid. To cheer him up, his father learned some sleight of hand tricks, ranging from pulling a rabbit from his hat to making a deck of cards disappear. Ronald was completely enamored with these tricks, and his mood did a complete 180°. Not long after, he miraculously started to get better and, once he did, learned the tricks from his father, as well as some other cheap tricks he learned online. But what was a boy to do with such useless knowledge? Con the rich and corrupted by posing as a psychic selling disturbingly accurate fortunes, gleamed by researching his current victim at the time as extensively as possible and hoping his victim doesn't figure out you can just google or ask around town and make an educated guess on what'll happen to them next.

Sell cheap trinkets that supposedly bring good health and a number of other things.

Host private magic shows, then have some friends steal wallets and whatever else and replacing them once they're empty.

And then sending whatever money he got to charities.

It wasn't until a year ago that his channeler powers kicked in, and he got invited to the institute, leaving his old conman life behind and hoping to start a new one.

Appearance: 5'8 half-asian, half-caucasian male with a skinny build. Ronald has black hair, brown eyes, a round face with a sturdy chin, and slightly pointed nose. He wears a black suit jacket over a red silk shirt, and black slacks. The jacket always has the middle button buttoned. On his head he wears a short magician tophat. A cloth sunflower is pinned to the left breast of his jacket, while a metal sunflower is pinned to his hat. His shoes, black loafers, also have sunflowers on them, as do his jacket cuffs.

Equipment: Handkerchiefs hidden up his sleeve, a smart-phone, a deck of tarot cards in his pocket, and a backpack filed with books, several packs of gum, pens and pencils, and also various school notes are his normal equipment. For school events and fights he knows he's going to, he ditches the backpack and takes a butterfly knife, if allowed.

Abilities: Ronald is extremely attentive, picking up many more details than a normal person. He's not particularly athletic, but makes up for it with his constantly thinking brain, which thinks up plans for him on the fly. Ronald is also extremely talented at sleight of hand tricks, similarly to Joseph Joestar. Finally, he possesses quick reflexes, almost akin to a martial arts master.

Channeller category: Alternative

Description of power: Ronald manifests his willpower and psyche as a figure he calls a "stand." As of right now, his stand can't do much of anything, except react to threats as Ronald notices them, and sometimes even beford he notices him, and act for Ronald. Later on, Ronald's stand (dubbed Wayward Son) should be able to manifest two guns, which draw in rocks and dust with a vacuum and shoot the compressed material out like bullets.

Names/descriptions of moves:

•Wayward Son: Ronald calling upon his stand. As it can't do much, he only has one other move at this point.

•Carry On: Ronald using Wayward Son to directly attack his opponent with its fists and feet, while Ronald goes in to stab them.

•Dust Shot: Once Wayward Son manifests his guns, he uses their vacuum to pull up dust and small rocks to form bullets.

•Air Shot: Pulling large amounts of air, Wayward Son fires out several bursts of air which, while not lethal, could still break a few bones.

Character theme song: Carry On Wayward Son

Other: Wayward Son is a blue-ish humanoid around Ronald's height, wearing a red and dark blue plaid shirt, a straw hat (with a sunflower on it, of course), and burlap pants.

[User]
ASA

Asa's thoughts about the flag and the girl were suddenly broken when she heard Alexis getting her attention. If this were the first time Asa had met Alexis, Asa probably would have freaked out from her downright horrifying appearance. However, she didn't react or pay any mind to her appearance or her actions as she had been exposed to her strangeness a long time ago and was more than familiar with her by now. "It's nothing major, just this one here. A hit in the groin with a ninja star and a punch to the head that knocked him unconscious for a little while" she explained, gesturing to Brock as she explained to Alexis

[Assistant]
Freyja was visibly annoyed with Brock's response to her chastisement. And so, when she replied with "You didn't even aim it at her! You aimed it at the ninja! It wasn't self defense!", she did so with a scowl on her face. At times like these, she wished she had Mako's abilities to put fear in her students.

And speaking of Mako, she would be perfect to handle him, she thought. He seemed to be the kind of student who didn't really give any respect to his teachers. Mako should be able to break that ego of his a little.

Suddenly, he jerked his hand off of her grasp, before firing another heat wave towards Akiko. Luckily, it simply fizzled away, thanks to his weakened state.

OF course, this made Freyja even angrier.

"Freyja, if your intent is to mete out punishments, I suggest keeping those two separate for now. Mako can deal with the girl. Given his outburst, I'll take the boy myself later."

She was about to give Brock some more tongue lashing before Daler interrupted her telephatically. It seemed he offered himself to deal with the boy, while the girl could go to Mako.

"Very well, I shall entrust him to you," she replied back by just thinking about it, knowing that Daler would be listening to her thoughts.

She was then interrupted by another teacher, this time it was Dr. Maxwell. He expressed his displeasure that she had stopped the fight when it was just getting to the good part.

She couldn't believe this guy. He really put forward his research over the wellbeing of the students, it seemed.

"We've already seen enough," she replied back via her own small microphone. "And you will have more chances to observe them in detail once they have their classes. No need to take a risk by allowing them to battle freely, especially when they just arrived and they still didn't have good control of their abilities."

After that, Asa rushed to the field and announced that the match was over. Freyja sighed. The entire thing seemed to have ended in a failure.

...Or not, as one of the students came forward and showed the flag on her hand. She had sneaked by and stole the flag while everyone else was focused on the incident.

Freyja immediately put both of her hands to stifle her giggle, which soon turned into a laugh. She simply couldn't help herself. She found the situation really funny as it came out of the left field. She had caught her off guard entirely.

"A-apologies," she said once she regained her composure, coughing a little to put her dignified look as a teacher back, "I too did not notice you stealing the flag. Let this be a proof that not every fight is about who's stronger. Anyone can be clever enough to put the stronger opponent at a disadvantage even though they're weaker themselves."

She smiled at the girl. As an architect, she had a firm belief that brains trump over brawns and she was glad that she had proven it to everyone present. And she was even happier when she saw her pupil Ryuuto approaching her and introducing himself to her. He also saw the worth of her cleverness, it seemed.

"Alright Asa -- who's been hurt, and are they hurt enough to need immediate intervention or can I go back to bed?"

Freyja turned around to see that Alexis had made her entrance. As usual, she was an odd one, but she was the best healer that she ever knew. Knowing how often fights broke out in the institute, a person with skills like her was an absolute necessity for sure. Asa explained to her about Brock's wound. She glanced at the boy, noticing his horrified expression. She couldn't help but to smile a little at that.

@tipssyCalibrator@Azereiah

[User]
AKIKO

After the game of capture the flag ended, Akiko was kind of just left standing around not really having much to do. However, that changed when she heard the voice of a man inviting everyone to play some kind of game. Akiko didn't recognize this guy and wasn't sure where he had come from, but she was certainly interested in the game. She also didn't really recognize the game at all and had no idea how to play, but hell would freeze over before she ever backed down from a challenge. She walked over to the stranger and his game of dice to accept his challenge. "I'm down, how do you play?" Akiko asked the man

[Assistant]
Ryousei Aoyama

Ryousei was about half of the remaining distance to the flag when he suddenly heard Asa calling out that the game had been cancelled.

Oh.

He was about halfway back to his side of the field when she noticed the purple-haired girl there, standing with his team's flag.

Oh.

The fuck?

Okay, well... alright.

Ryousei sighed. This had all been pointless. What had his teammates been doing? As he got closer he noticed a dude on the ground, surrounded by puddles of vomit.

Had he missed something big? That's what he got for being so single-minded, he guessed. There were other people standing around his side of the field now.

"So, uh..." he started, approaching them, before noticing... something getting closer to the group. If Ryousei had to guess, he would say that it was a person.

He tried to ignore it.

"What now?" he asked.

@Hammerman@Azereiah

---

Jun-Sang Kim

Jun-Sang had seen it. Well... in a sense. He'd been watching the commotion with Brock and had been side-eyeing the flag. He was therefore able to notice a blur of motion and suddenly the flag was gone.

He blinked a few times, trying to process what happened. It wasn't until the purple-haired girl showed the flag to Asa that Jun-Sang connected the dots.

"Well, that happened," he said flatly... the first thing he'd said since shortly after the game started. He looked over to see that someone new had joined them. Jun-Sang hadn't seen him before, so he deduced that he was new.

He idly cracked his knuckles before turning from the field and walking away.

@Silver Carrot@13org

---

Rumi Kataoka

And then the game was over.

"Huh. Jus' like that?" Rumi said, before shrugging her shoulders. "Well. I guess nothing much was happening anyway."

Rumi wasn't exactly taken aback by any of this, if she could be honest. She hadn't exactly expected it either, to be fair. Rumi approached the group reconvening in the middle of the field at the same time another person did.

She looked horrible, but more importantly was asking who'd been hurt.

"He is," Rumi said, pointing to Brock.

Hex@Dblade26

[User]
Ryuuto Koriyama

"Not much of a talker, are ya?" Ryuuto said to Hana, noting her reluctance to formulate the most basic of coherent sentences. "That's fine. Actions speak louder than words, anyway." He gestured over to Brock, as he boasted about how everything went according to plan. "Better to keep quiet then make a fool out of yourself by talking yourself into a corner." Ryuuto gave a soft chuckle. "I know it was Captain Morgan who made most of the plan, not The Human Hand-Warmer over there. Well, it was nice meeting you, but I gotta meet up with some people." He smiled and gave Hana a friendly wave. "You need anything, let me know. I know how tough it can be adjusting to all this craziness. See you around."

With that, Ryuuto headed off to meet with Mina and Jun-Sang. It was good to see that all the new students weren't loud-mouths. Still, that made her all the more dangerous. He hadn't even seen her grab the flag. That was an important piece of data missing. Hopefully one of his companions would help him fill in the blanks.

@Silver Carrot@CondorTalon@Azereiah

[Assistant] "Why, this game has many names, friend!" Ronald began to politely explain to the first player of courtyard Cee-lo. "Cee-lo, Chinchiron, 4-5-6, or even just Dice. And the rules are quite simple." With a sly grin, Ronald picked the dice up and shuffled them in his hand. "Banker, me, goes first. I roll the dice and, depending on the combination, I either lose the bet entirely, win the bet entirely, or the round continues. I've got a guide for combinations right here, actually..." From his left pocket, Ronald took out a neatly folded piece of paper. Unfolding it reveals a guideline of winning and losing banker combinations. Immediately underneath is one for players as well. "I'll give you a second to look over that. Tell me when you're ready to play."


[System]
Gender: M

Age:24

Power:psychokinesis

Appearance:blonde hair short stature green eyes short hair

Personality:doesn't talk much and keeps to himself tends to do things without noticing and as such keeps himself in constant check to make sure he's not doing anything wrong so he doesn't mess anything up like usual

Biography: Not much is known about him even the files the government keeps seem to be lacking information but nobody really notices him and that's the way he likes it

[User]
"I've got nothing," Sebastien said as he looked around. As his eyes fell upon certain objects, his eyes saw something that could be compared to an invisible matrix of numbers and letters as they calculated in his mind. The ominous shadows that were cast on the other side of the windows as people passed by were observed to make sure their postures didn't pose a threat, empty alleyways were surveyed to make certain there were no possibilities of other hidden in them, observing vantage points that assailants could use to their advantages to attack unnoticed, etc. The world was nothing more than a large mathematical problem to him and it was up to him to solve it. Once his mind was truly put to work, the pains dissipated drastically since he had bigger things to focus on.

After taking one look at the top to make sure Parker made it to the top safely, he walked to the mouth of the alley and leaned against the wall before pulling out a smoke from his worn brown leather jacket. He usually wasn't the type of person to condone the use of drugs and other substance, but the nicotine helped calm his nerves. Once the cigarette was lit, he took one inhale of it before instinct warned him to look down the street.

Just as he looked, a figure wearing a dirty, ragged long coat rounded the corner and was walking straight for him. The figure looked innocent enough, but someone told Sebastien to keep an eye on the figure as it approached, so he did. Though he tried not to, he stood up straight as his own body tensed as he saw noted the tension in the shoulders of the person, knowing that they were a loaded gun about to shoot.

The seemingly homeless individual stopped just in front of Sebastien and looked him directly in the eye; definitely the eyes of deceit. "Could you spare a smoke, friend?"

It took a moment for Sebastien to respond, since he was practically in a comatose state as his mind kept reeling in the information of the current situation presented. His training had taught him what to do and could perform his duty near flawlessly, but upon seeing his first target while on the job it was too surreal. Everything seemed to be happening too fast yet in slow motion at the same time.

"Sure," he finally said as he slowly reached into the inside pocket of his jacket, never taking his eyes off the intruder. "Do you have a light?" Just as his hand grasped the handle of his specially made trench knife, the assailant seemed to notice what he was doing and raised his hand to strike at his chest. Not knowing what type of power he possessed, Sebastien jumped back as far as he could to prevent contact with the hand, slamming his back harshly into the wall as he struggled to get the knife out of his coat pocket.

"Parker!" Just as Sebastien was about to strike, the assailant tried grabbing at his throat and he shoved off the wall to roll to the side of him. As he pushed himself up with the momentum of his feet, he slashed at him, but when he made contact with the blade it came back partially melted. "What the...?"

[Assistant]
Upon hearing his partner's cry, Parker rushed down the ladder. At the end of the alleyway, he could see Sebastien and a homeless-looking man facing each other off. Deliberately, he shouted out, "Sebastien, are you okay?"
 Immediately, the man yanked his head around; his arm then lifted, one finger on the trigger of his revolver. Though shaky, it remained aimed at Parker, who gave pause about five yards from the two. He then looked back at Sebastien, and said, "You must have had some sort of power to know what I am. So what about your friend here, huh? What can he do? I'm assuming he can't dodge a bullet."
 He then smirked, and in one fluid motion, fired.
 The bullet sunk into flesh, and Parker released a hiss of pain as he looked down at his stomach. Blood oozed from the wound, soaking through his coat until it began to dribble onto the ground.
 "That was just a warning shot. Now--what?" The man's eyes widened as he watched Parker take off his coat calmly, reaching through the tear in his shirt in order to dig his fingers into the wound. Though it was true that he could heal, bullets could be rather tricky in the future; his skin healed, but he couldn't just allow the bullet to stay in there and make a new home out of his intestines, now could he?
 "And there we go," said Parker cheerfully as he flicked the bullet onto the ground. He then looked back at the man, smiling. "I've been waiting to meet one of you for so long! And here you are! It's my third biggest dream come true!" He reached for the holster on his hip, taking out the semi-automatic pistol. "But I'm afraid I'm not here to make friends. What's that phrase? 'Shoot first, ask questions later?' Yes, that's what my superiors expect of me."
 He fumbled with the gun, brow furrowed in confusion.
 "What, boy? Don't know how to use a gun?"
 "Sebastien, how do you turn the safety off again?" Parker sighed.

[User]
"How did you graduate from training again?" Sebastien said, shaking his head. The guy raised his gun to shoot Parker again, but wasn't going to allow it; just because he could heal didn't mean he wanted to see his friend in pain. He threw his knife to the ground and reached into the back of his jacket to pull his own gun from his holster, taking aim. Now that he had the advantage over him and the guy lined up in his sights, he didn't know if he could take the shot. Utilizing your abilities was one thing, but he honestly didn't know if he was capable of murder; wasn't that part of his job description now, though?

"Drop your weapon or I will blow a hole through the back of your skull!" he said in a demanding tone, gripping the gun with both hands to steady the aim; hopefully he didn't notice the shaking in his hands. "Drop the gun...drop the gun... There had never been a prisoner taken into custody before, but had the DEA even attempted to capture one alive?

[Assistant]
The man only grinned, the expression almost feral. He then said, "Drop my weapon? Boy, it's just as your friend said. 'Shoot first, ask questions later.'" He lined up Sebastien in his sights once more, finger itching to pull the trigger again. "Your incompetent partner doesn't know how to properly wield a gun and you are too cowardly to pull the trigger on yours, so I suppose it's my responsibility to take matters into my own hands. I wish you the best of luck in your next life."
 Just as he was about to fire, there was a flash of pain and then darkness.
 The corpse collapsed first onto his knees, and then fell to the side. Half of his head was just gone, the brain matter splattered on the ground and on the nearby walls. The other half was contorted into an agonized expression, eyes wide and jaw hanging open, as if the man was still in shock even after having lost awareness.
 "Are you okay, Sebastien?" Parker asked, rushing to his partner's side. Hastily, he checked for injuries, but thankfully, he found none. He then sighed and, before Sebastien had the chance to answer the first question, he inquired, "What happened? Why didn't you shoot him? He was going to shoot you, and you've never been the type to freeze up before. He would've killed you, Sebastien!"

[User]
Time seemed to freeze when the gun was trained on Sebastien, but he could find it in himself to pull the trigger to save his life...quite literally. The only thing he could do was stare into the eyes of the man knowing that he had every intention of killing him because the look in his eyes and the taut finger on the trigger had told him so. The loud pop of a gun going off made my heart freeze in my chest and even as he noted the half-missing face of the man, he thought that he'd been shot himself.

As Parker rushed to his side, he didn't hear a word that came out of his mouth but read his lips, getting the general concept. Could he really admit that he had been too much of a coward to pull the trigger? Didn't that make him a liability and a danger to everyone on his team? If that gun had been aimed at Parker's head, would he have found the courage within himself to pull the trigger to save his best friend's life?

"You were that close to death, Sebastien...your life ending at the end of that barrel...and you froze."

The ringing in his ears of the blood rushing through them was beginning to fade as he took his time putting the gun back in its holster. Finally, he looked Parker in the eye and gave a grim smile. "I had faith that you would pull through in the end. It would have been selfish of me to not let you have the first kill since you wanted it so bad." Even Sebastien could hear the lie in his voice despite his mind screaming at him to believe the words. He quickly adverted his gaze, not able to stand the look Parker was giving. Still shell-shocked from the experience, Sebastien turned away from him in a daze.

[Assistant] Parker considered Sebastien's words for a moment. He knew that Sebastien was lying; that dazed look in his eyes told him everything, considering that he still had his glasses on. Finally, though, he sighed and said, "Should we just head back to base now? Tell them it's done?" Perhaps it wouldn't be wise to push Sebastien about it--he already thought more than necessary, after all. It didn't mean that Parker didn't plan on eventually asking him about it, though; he trusted Sebastien more than anyone else, but he wouldn't be going on another mission with him until he was certain that he wouldn't just throw his life away on a whim like that.

[User]
"Yes, let's head back. There's no need sticking around." Without waiting to see if Parker followed, he started making his way back towards the base. He took off his glasses and shoved them in the shirt pocket. He was thankful for the blurry haze that shrouded his vision. Almost immediately, the thoughts begun to slow down and became a dull presence in the back of his mind. The fact that he almost died also seemed to numb the thoughts as well.

Once they were back at base, they turned in their mission report with Sebastien giving as few details as needed to their commander. They had passed their first test, which had served as an initiation into the department officially and as a token, they gave each agent a personal DEA patch that said they were tried and true in combat. Once they had finished the mission report, they turned on their heel to leave.

"Kemp, mind staying in my office for a moment?" Commander Jones said. From his peripheral he could see him standing and Sebastien mentally cursed.

He pivoted on his heel and turned around, standing at attention as he stared at the wall in front of him, staring just above the commander's head. "Sir."

Jones stared at him for the longest, no doubt gauging Sebastien's expressions. He's been in this business for eleven years now, almost since the beginning of when this crisis had begun. "Your mission report was quite empty for someone who is so calculative," he begun. "In training, your reports were equal to that of a college thesis."

"Is there a problem with that, sir?" Sebastien asked. A cold sweat had broken out on his forehead and he wanted to swat at the trickle of sweat that tickled his temple but refrained from doing so.

He paused for a moment. "Look at me, Kemp."

With a deep breath, Sebastien finally made eye contact with him.

"Did the mission go according to plan as the reports suggest?" Jones asked, his tone growing more serious.

"Yes, sir; the mission was a full success with no setbacks." It was hard to look him in the eye without saying more; he wasn't lying, but he wasn't telling the exact truth, either.

"Did something happen that should be brought to light, agent?"

"No, sir. The reports were-"

"I can tell you are hiding something and you will not be permitted to leave this room until you speak."

He felt backed into a corner and honestly didn't know what to say. This was the biggest worry he thought of when he first walked into this room and had to say something to throw him off from his cowardice for the fear that he would be kicked from the department for not being able to perform his duties accordingly. So he said the first thing that came to mind. "It was just shocking experience, is all. Seeing the blood and the head blown apart...it was something that I had only seen in movies and wasn't prepared to witness for myself. Training hadn't taught us that aspect of the fight, sir."

To his relief, Jones nodded his head as if he believed that story and seemed to relax. "That is to be expected on your first kill. Just remember, though, the first kill is always the most difficult. This is war, and no one ever said that it was pretty."

"Yes, sir."

"It will become a normal occurrence to you soon enough. Just remember, the more blood of theirs that you see means the less blood of your own men. You are dismissed."

"Sir." Sebastien waited until he was outside the building until he released the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. Sweat had thoroughly soaked into his shirt and he had to pull the leather jacket off to cool himself. God, what would have happened if he'd learned that he completely froze up in combat? Would they have simply kicked him out or would they have done worse? There were stories that circulated about what happened to defected agents and he wasn't bound to find out if any of the rumors were true...

[Assistant]
"Hey" came the voice of nick, whom was just run into.

"Man, you knocked over my papers"

The papers he was now just barely holding in the air with an invincible force.
Slowly the pages flow into his hand as though attached by strings that could not be seen even though the motion seemed fluid, he was now frantically putting them all back in order and mumbling things like "Sarge is gunna kill me for this!" and "If anyone could find someone with a description like he's the guy that can heal quickly."

After searching a good minute he finds the paper he's looking for, after a moment of thinking he turns towards his "Assailant".

"Do you know a man that goes by Parker Morton? By any chance, supposedly he has the ability to heal quickly.


[System]
Birthday
Janruary 12th x874

Guild:
Phoenix Wing

Magic:
Absorption Magic: While possessing a large potential for magic she does not have a consistent way to release it without exposure to other magics. Small amounts of magic energy used around her gets absorbed until she is able to use a variation of it. For instance, being around fire magic will eventually allow her to produce and manipulate fire at a fairly basic level. It is not as strong as the original nor can she reproduce the same spells. Extended exposure increases the strength but that still takes quite some time. The only exception to that rule is use of a Lacrima. However the increase is temporary and usually burns through her magic reserves. It is a quick way to gain access to other magics for the future though. Typically elemental magics are easiest to learn such as fire, water, and earth. Others are more scarce and thus she may never be able to use.

As she unlocks other magics she is able to switch between them, only able to use on at a time. Switching is similar to requiping, her clothes, hair, and eyes changing color to reflect the magic she is meaning to use. This leads us to the more negative aspects of such an ability. Her magic controls her just as much as she controls it. Each magic is accompanied with a different personality. So fire will exhibit a more hot headed demeanor than the more docile water. More chaotic type magics could lead her down a darker path.

Magic Level: B

Equipment:
A chain weapon with small blades on the end that her father taught her to use. Mainly a defensive weapon as it lacks real mass or punch.

History:
Given the overall decreased number of mages Ariel's magical prowess went without being realized until her late teens. There was always something a little off though. The few times a mage would pass through her home of Oak Town she would start acting up even as a little girl. It was always attributed to her young age and later on to being a tenager. Being a free spirit she would often visit the Crystal Lake through the years. Never able to keep the child put her father taught her the use of a weapon for self defense. Thankfully she's never had to use it.

As she grew into a young woman more mages began to come through. While beginning to be exposed to more magics the first one that showed up first was water. Perhaps it was the legend of the mage upstream but the many years by and swimming in the nearby lake finally drew in enough traces of magic to allow her to use water magic. Unable to change back to her usual appearance she hurried back home. She stayed shut in for the better part of a year until she changed again, a nearby guild having a couple fire users. Nearly burning down her home that first time only switching back to water did she manage to save most of her belongings. Clearly not having this under control she left town so she wouldn't harm anyone else.

Along her travels she visited a few guilds but whenever she began to feel unusual she would leave. Eventually she realized the mood swings she would have coincided with the changes of magic. Coming to the conclusion that she couldn't truly figure this out on her own she began to ask around for a good guild to actually join. Phoenix Wing came up a few times and it sounded like a good place to start. It it wasn't for her then she would move on.

Personality:
Ariel's personality varies based on the magic she is currently exhibiting. Normally she is quite wary of people, having been taught not to trust outright. See appearance for more on each personality.

Team Members:
Team Powder Keg

Three Strengths:
1. Versatile given time.
2. Loyal once you can get past her distrust.
3. Can change to a better mood almost on a whim.
Three Weaknesses:
1. Takes time to become more capable.
2. Visibly broadcasts the magic she intends to use.
3. Easily corruptible.

Greatest Love:
N/A

Motivation:
Find a safe place where her magic won't lead her down a bad path.

Appearance:
Color: goldenrod

Color: bold

Color: slateblue
Main personality trait: Melancholy

Color: orange
Main personality trait: Aggressive

Color: khaki
Main personality trait: Cheerful

Color: black
Main personality trait: Apathetic

Color: pink
Main personality trait: Loving

Color: lightblue
Main personality trait: Cold

Color: tan
Main personality trait: Reserved

Color: yellow
Main personality trait: Excitable

Color: crimson
Main personality trait: Subservient

Color: lightgray
Main personality trait: Defensive

Color: saddlebrown
Main personality trait: Stubborn

Color: green
Main personality trait: Motherly

Color: skyblue
Main personality trait: Playful

Color: bold
Main personality trait: Commanding

Color: steelblue
Main personality trait: Fearful

Color: gray
Main personality trait: Brooding

Color: deeppink
Main personality trait: Passionate

Color: bold
Main personality trait: Creative

---

Color: orangered
Acquired by absorbing the magic from the ashes of a fallen Phoenix. Transforming through reincarnation Ariel has a full pair of wings that allow her to fly.
Main personality trait: Forgetful

Color: black
Acquired by stealing the power of a god sealed inside a magic artifact. Most of her body turns jet black and her power is fully displayed.
Main personality trait: Arrogant

Additional Details:
Also I will try to make her name color coincide with the current magic she is using. So long as I can find one readable.

[User]
Maddox

The past two weeks at Phoenix Wing hadn't seen much of Maddox Colburn. While in the past he was known for constantly taking jobs, he had been busy otherwise lately. Training. Something he hadn't done in years. In fact, it was likely that he hadn't attempted to train even once over the years he has been in the guild. While he did train his body, it was not his focus. Daily exercise and workouts kept Maddox incredibly fit already. But instead he was training with his magic. His fights at the council, several weeks ago, had proven that years of being idle had taken its toll. His magic had atrophied. Now he was determined to get back into shape.

The red-haired mage strolled into the guild hall. His hair was slightly longer, and some might still not be used to his leather jacket (compared to his old jacket), but he hardly seemed different. Maddox checked in at the hall every day, to let everyone know he was alive and also to see if Jamie had returned yet. But today seemed different. The moment Blink stepped into the hall, he saw that most everyone had gathered around. Something to do with the upcoming Games, I bet, Maddox thought to himself, standing at the back of the crowd with his hands in his jacket pockets. An interesting strategy to change how the world looks at magic. Showing it off in a positive light. Naturally we're going to want the flashiest mages. For the first Games, winning isn't really important.

Or at least that's how I see it. With a small grin, Maddox moved from the crowd and sat down at a table, crossing his legs and waiting patiently to hear who would be in the teams to represent Phoenix Wing. After the speech would be concluded, Maddox intended to talk with Jarvis anyways. To see if he knew anything about how Jamie was doing. Not that Maddox intended to bring him/her back, but just to see if he/she was at least safe. A vacation is always nice, but Jamie was a famous person. Infamous to criminals and dark mages. Being alone is dangerous, emotionally and physically. Maddox knew that all too well.

Beatrix

"About damn time." The tan woman was standing on a hill, overlooking Magnolia. An evil grin had formed on her face as she crossed her arms over her chest, tapping the gauntlets with a metallic clink. Her adventure in Edolas was not a pleasant one, having been captured, tortured, and used by the Edolas version of Maddox. But she had managed to escape with the help of Edolas Damien. It was a hassle staying under the radar after that, because she knew the Phoenix Wing of both realms would've tried to capture her as well if they found her.

But here she was, cocky as ever. "I learned from my mistake last time," Beatrix admitted out loud, still looking down at the city. "Fools can't be reasoned with. I'll just play it safe and wait. The time will come when I can kill you. I'll make sure to give you an extra beating, for your Edolas version." Beatrix pulled up her purple cloak, bringing the hood over her head and letting it conceal her identity. The only thing visible from under the cloak was her bare shins and black boots. "And if any of your stupid friends try to get in my way, I'll show them what a real dark mage is capable of."

[Assistant]
Phoenix Wing
Trinity smiles softly when Karn looks up at her. "Heyya, Karn. Yeah, I've been alright." She circles around and sits with him. As he uncurls, she takes her gloves off and tosses them into Karn's lap. "Found these a couple weeks ago. I think the owner is sick, I found them with blood coughed onto them. I was hoping the owner would come to claim them, but he hasn't. They're very nice. You wouldn't happen to know owns them, Karn...?" She looks him in the eye, patient, knowing.

Jarvis began his announcement, Karn's answer or no, pertaining to the magic games. "Oooh, Karn, who do you think he'll pick? I'll be sure to cheer you on if you're on the team." Jarvis was waiting to announce teams because Damian had answered the door. Such was the polite thing, but why right now? In the mean time, it seemed as though Maddox had returned. The white-haired waved to him, though she wondered if he'd look her way.

[User]
Karn
Fiore || Magnolia || Phoenix Wing Guild

Karn smiled brightly, glancing to Damian as he went to interact with the people who decided to pay a visit. They smelled a bit funny, but he didn't really feel any hostility from them.

As Trinity placed a pair of familiar white gloves on his lap, Karn curiously picked them up and examined them before stiffening at the woman's words. Oh.. She found him out. What does he say? He was horrible at lying. But he didn't really want to say the whole truth. "O-Oh these are mine. I just had a pretty nasty cold." he said.

Luckily, Jarvis caught both of their attention as he spoke up to discuss the teams for the Magic Games. Karn was looking foreword to it. It sounded fun and he wanted to experience such a event. Though he wasn't sure he would be chosen. There were several good wizards, many here longer than he has been. And so far, he hasn't really proved himself a good combatan in comparison. Still, he was a little hopeful but if he didn't get chosen, then he'd happily cheer on his Guildmates.

Of course, it seemed he'd have to wait for the results in order for the new arrivals to be greeted properly. "Mhmm well.. I think Penny or Damian will be on it. Maybe Lazarus or Maddy. But I'm not really sure. It would be cool if I was on it. I'll definetly win one for you if I get picked." he said in a excited tone, feeling a bit eager.

Prince
Fiore || Shirotsume || Dragon Fang Guild
@Caits

It didn't seem avoiding the brawl would be something Prince accomplished today. Since soon, Hunter had effectively slammed into the feline. Luckily, Prince was nimble so when he fell, his legs clamped around the beam so when he fell backward, he was now just hanging upside down. He could of easily dodged, he was quite faster then most here, but it gave him a excuse to touch people and eat.

"I should turn you into a gecko again, Hunt." Prince laughed in response to the apology, humming as he swung a little from his position on the beam before his ears perked as the doors open and a boy timidly entered.

Quite a cute thing, pretty blue hair and eyes with a ethereal sort of feel. The boy seemed ready to bolt, especially at seeing the brawl going down. But with a quite voice, the boy tried to say he'd like to join. The boy's voice was most likely unheard by most of the people, even Prince's sharp hearing had trouble with the loud racket going on. Didn't help the boy was staring intently at the ground.

But, Prince couldn't help but grin mischievously as he eyed fresh meat. Such a adorable human like this was his favorite to tease and greet. Today was quite a lucky day, despite Hunter getting thrown into him.

Swinging his body, Prince swung off the beam and landed neatly beside the fallen boy. The freakishly tall feline creature smiling brightly before promptly picking up the boy by the waist and helping him up. Practically carrying him away from the brawl to avoid getting a accidental beat down.

"Well hellooooooo there! Aren't you a cutie! Don't mind them, this is a daily occurrence, their nice people though. My name is Prince, and you're interested in joining Mhm?" Prince purred, arms wrapped around the newcomer, ears twitching as his eye looked down at the stranger. Leading him closer to the bar to be in a more closer safer distance and be with Master Jack, but didn't seem to have any intent of releasing his embrace.

[Assistant]
ArielPeople were mulling around, coming in for the call that Jarvis had put out. Thankfully by now Ariel had become accustomed to most of their magics even if she hadn't started to exhibit them. Partly out of defense, partly for fun, she switched to her Charm personality and suddenly remembered that she wanted to help Nolan out. Since his return he had seemed rather down. What happened while he was out she couldn't tell but one thing was for sure, he could use a little cheering up. Had she a more discerning mind she probably would have left him alone.

Last time she just popped up next to him though and freaked him out. That would not do for getting him to relax. So this time she stepped up on the upstairs railing and held one hand out. Drawing back her other hand her magic formed what looked like a pink bow and arrow. Since their last encounter she'd been working on her magic just for this. Ariel had been making claims that she would cure Nolan of his fear no matter what. A fool's errand. With the bow mostly being for show the real magic was in the arrow. Letting it fly it shot toward his back where his heart would be.

Not particularly paying attention to her own footing she slipped and fell to the floor below, arms and legs flailing. Picking herself up she brushed herself off. There was no time to worry about the pain, she must admire her handwork. Surely another personality would complain abut the bumps and bruises. Skipping over the popped up be Nolan. "Nolan! I'm not giving up on you yet" Not staying still she whirled around to his other side to see if he was reacting any different. Why move? No idea.


[System]
Age: Twenty-eight

Country of origin: Spain

Native language, accent (in English): Renata's native language is Spanish, so when she speaks English, she has a slight Spanish accent.

Appearance: Renata stands at 5'10" in bare feet and 6" flat in her typical pair of heels. Physically, Renata is imposing, not only because she's taller than average, but also because she's far prettier. Her face, with its small straight nose, full lips, and bright blue eyes, seems fit for the cover of a fashion magazine; and that's because it is. Every inch of her, down from her wavy brown hair to her perfectly-manicured toes, screams high-maintenance. Renata makes a living contorting the long smooth planes of her body for a camera, and she sticks to a strict diet and exercise regimen in order to maintain a standard of perfection. At the moment she was sent back in time, Renata was wearing a plain black blouse, an alabaster blazer with three gold buttons and a zipper going down its front, dark-wash jeans with a zipper and a sturdy button, and shiny boots, also black.

Strengths: Beyond the obvious physical beauty, even Renata's personality is sultry and seductive. She's charming and gregarious, but she's also quite cunning and emotionally intelligent. Renata's strongest trait is manipulating people and situations to her advantage. She also has a remarkable amount of self-control; a profession which requires strenuous daily exercise and a strictly-water diet before runway shows does that to a girl.

Weaknesses: Catty and often selfish, Renata sees the negative in others before she sees the positive, and she's much more likely to ramble about herself than she is to listen to differing opinions. She cares little for other people on an individual level and, though she doesn't readily admit it, thinks herself superior to everyone both in terms of beauty and in terms of pure intelligence.

Possessions: She carries a medium-sized purple purse (with several compartments) with 10 tampons, her car keys, a half-charged iPhone 6, a tube of sticky lipgloss and another of obsidian mascara, and a tiny journal attached, by string, to a rather fancy looking black ballpoint pen.

[User]
Day One

Raya's eyes slowly came open with the sensation of sand scratching her retinas and throat. Parts of her felt like they were on fire, where others were simply numb and she had to cough but found it hard to draw in air. An unpleasant feeling sat in the muscles of her entire body and at first the world she saw with tearing eyes didn't make sense. Grass was growing from the sky and everything was tainted an unnatural shade of green or blue, or maybe grey.

 Her heart thumped harder, trying to provide enough oxygen for explanations. Soon everything received a very simple answer. She was lying on her back with her limbs twisted in all sorts of awkward positions and her bag had somehow ended up pressing down on her chest. Picking herself up slowly, the woman could feel there had been something digging into her back. Sand and sticks rained down her shoulders as her head assumed the position nature had intended. Feeling too dizzy to walk just yet, she tried to remember the events of the recent past.

And came up blank. There was nothing, absolutely nothing. In fact, she should have been in class right now… And it should be about four in the afternoon…. shouldn't it? Class… maths… the dreaded test….

Then what was this? Raya cautiously turned her stiff head to inspect the surroundings. Barren land all around, the gloom of dusk or dawn barely outlining some trees in the distance. No roads around, no electricity poles, no light pollution from a nearby city.

Did someone assault me and leave me for dead? Fear crept into her heart as she gingerly looked down at her clothes for signs of a struggle. Nothing. Then what the heck was she doing in the middle of this wasteland…?

Confused and trying to keep the fear at bay, Raya turned around to see what had caused the stabbing in her back. And she froze.

It was a hand. A human hand….

Nausea and panic were quick to flood her system and she staggered backwards, only to bump into… another body.

"Oh God…." She whispered breathlessly, realising there were a few others scattered around. All completely motionless. "No…no, that can't be. It can't be--!" She chocked and desperately started shaking the person nearest to her.

Please be alive!

[Assistant]
Mervyn started as someone shook him awake, bolting up into a sitting position and glancing around blearily as the world spun around him uncontrollably. He swayed back and forth planting both hands behind him to steady himself as the world slowly began to settle around him. "I'm up!" His breathing rapid, from being startled awake, Mervyn focused his eyes reluctantly and saw a young woman's face centimeters from his own and he blinked in surprise, unable to do much more than stare in shock as his world wasn't quite stable yet. "Or am I?"

Realizing his rudeness, Mervyn jerked his head away from the woman blushing and sending his glasses tumbling from his face. Great job Merv you wake next to a woman and the first thing you do is stare like a dumb lamb, that's sure to score some points. And stop acting like bimbo! You're just making things worse! You try waking up to a stranger shaking you! I'm not even in bed, and my clothes are all on so we didn't do anything together.. bummer. He caught his glasses with a practiced hand, and slid them back on before checking the rest of himself.

He felt... mostly numb, but a little sore too. He was breathing slow deep breaths now and checking his pockets and searching the bag that had lain next him... nothing was missing. He looked around seeing the unfamiliar sights around him, and the others, and turned back to the woman who'd woken him. What the dickens? Was this some kind of party or what and how did I get invited if it was?

"Where am I? Who are you? What happened to me, er us?"

[User]
When she was five, Renata demanded to be addressed as "Your Royal Highness". She had read The Princess and the Pea and identified so strongly with its main character that she began acting like a royal; her parents complied with her finicky commands, assuming that her overactive child mind had just conjured another fleeting fancy. Two weeks later, they called her by her first name again, and she complained so much that they were forced to buy her an entirely new bedroom set, complete with an ultra-soft mattress and satin sheets, before she was appeased. Ever since, even the slightest lump in her bed, whether it be a small movement of the springs or a predestined pea, displeased her fine senses so much she couldn't sleep and had to call whichever local authorities were responsible for what she termed "emotional trauma".

Renata couldn't sleep.

She woke up with her muscles tense and slender tanned hands twitching, half-curled into a fist. "Cabron!" There was no pea in her mattress. In fact, there was no mattress at all.

She had been in New York, or Los Angeles, or some other smog-filled American city, marching through the streets (no doubt to attend a high-society function), and then a second had passed and she was unconscious and then she was here. Nowhere. Other than some life-weary trees, she had woken up to a flat plane of withered grass and an oddly clear sky.

And bodies. Not bodies in the sense she typically saw them; these people were clothed, not particularly attractive, certainly nowhere near famous, and unconscious.

Mouth pulled in a taut line, Renata stood up unsteadily, wiping off the dirt on her jeans and frowning at the streaks of brown and green on her bleached white blazer. Two others had woken up already. They looked like the type of people she would sneer at on the street - poor unfortunate souls. Renata withheld a low wail of desperation.

"You don't know where we are," she repeated, looking down at the most unfortunate looking of the lot (and certainly of the conscious lot). "This must be a sick joke!" Renata exclaimed, clasping the purse she only just realized was still wrapped about her shoulder. Who hated her enough to leave her stranded with these losers?

Nobody, she realized with a growing sense of dread.

She was perfect.

[Assistant]
She kept having horrific nightmares of being an art teacher, forced to watch dozens of children ignore shading or any sort of color theory. What was worse would be the constant requirement of pretending that they were doing fabulously. As if their atrocious little drawings were worthy of being compared to the likes of Klimt or Vermeer. No one appreciated you until you were dead, and unfortunately, Matilde was still expected to live on for a few more decades. Therefore, as an artist, her only choice was to either face the former, or become the sellout that she was already morphing into. It would have been incredibly lovely to survive as some sort of anarchist, living in the outskirts and painting whatever pleased her. But she was too comfortable with a life indoors, and had settled into the routine of eyeing bridges and tall buildings with a certain lust.

This time, her heavily tattooed arms were covered in various shades of pink and gold. She'd been commissioned to paint the anniversary gift for an unfulfilled housewife, its subject too childish to ever garner approval above the age of ten. The husband, however, had been overjoyed and paid generously. Matilde still struggled to be discovered by galleries, and though she had attained enough income to support herself, the woman detested having clients to appease. They were uncultured, and most likely the type of people who thought that Banksy was an underground artist.

"C'est quoi ce bordel?," she almost yelled, finally noticing the rest of the group. She'd woken up with the worst back pain, and the reality of sand in her underwear finally settled in. Matilde lived nowhere near the beach. The others were unruly looking and worse off than she. Grass and dirt had been caked into their clothing while sand seemed to be the only offending medium on her. One character stood out somehow familiarly, and Matilde could remember the Spanish model from several magazines.

Matilde wasn't sure whether to run off or not, and could feel her legs twitch in anticipation. She'd seen enough movies to know about what trafficking was, and looked around for any other suspicious characters. Bags filled, those that surrounded her seemed almost ready for the trip. Clearly, the young woman was on her own as she searched her own pockets. There was almost nothing to her name apart from a few coins, and Matilde wasn't even sure if she was still in France.

[User]
*Posting Note: Due to facilitate easy writing Kjartan's thoughts will be in plain English, his speech accented"

Kjartan Reinhølt

Blue eyes blinked groggily at the sky, and then squinted fiercely at the sunlight that danced across the scarred face. Kjartan was intensely aware of how much his head hurt and threw a muscled arm across his eyes to block out the sun all the while muttering under his breath. It took him a moment, perhaps it was the hang over, he wasn't sure, but he was suddenly aware of the smell of crushed earth and grass, and the unmistakable sensation of damp turf beneath his bare back and shoulders.

An idle thought flashed through his head as he lifted it slightly so that he could see through a narrow slit between his arm and his cheek, the lads would never let him live this down if he'd passed out on the rugby pitch. He was flat on his back, right knee in the air, kilt falling around his waist and he supposed it was a good thing he was wearing rugby shorts underneath or he'd be showing the world "the goods".

Through the gap he could now see a pair of tight blue jeans and black boots. Whoever this person was happened to be facing away from him and he smiled slightly at the curve of her backside as it strained against the jeans. He'd certainly woken up with less attractive women and not been able to remember the night, his initial concern was if he'd used protection or not, I he already had a half dozen illegitimate children running around the Commonwealth nations.

The thought was abruptly cut off as the person of his attention began to talk to someone else nearby and he raised his head some more to see a pathetic looking little fellow on the grass. His gaze shifted to the right and he saw more people. Now he was confused. He laid his head back down on the grass with a slight groan, maybe if he went back to sleep they would all be gone by the time he woke up and he wouldn't have to speak with any of them. That would probably be best. Yes, he'd do that.

His eyes flew open quite suddenly. He'd been at a fund raiser, now he remembered, and it hadn't been just ANY field he'd been on. It was a Team Scotland fund raiser and the team had been at Balmoral Castle to meet the Queen. He'd been one of the first selected to meet her because of his military service. Now he was worried he had passed out on the grounds of the castle. He sat up abruptly, his head spinning so hard he almost vomited. For a horrifying moment he thought he would but it passed swiftly and he staggered to his feet, eyes racing around as he turned quickly about him. No castle. No guards. In fact, beyond the people lying about in the grass with him, there was no one he knew at all.

"Thank ze gods..." He muttered out loud and allowed himself to sink into a crouch, head in his hands.

[Assistant]
Justin Beiber, the one whose backside the man had been admiring, turned around with a shining smile.

"You're welcome."

[User] Doctor I feel you, Doc, but you gotta learn how to spell your own character's name right. (Maybe hijack some other RPs while you're at it, eh? Maybe less serious ones with players who'll actually appreciate it?)


[System]
Age: 27

Gender: Female

Appearance: Dirty blonde hair kept in a messy ponytail, a quite nasty scar running over her left eye and the left side of her mouth (reaching from just above the eyebrow to almost the chin), her scarred eye is white and blind but her unscarred eye is hazel. Her body, or what's left of it, exists within the combined power armor / life support system that is her suit. She was of average height before being equipped with it, but now she's eight feet tall thanks to it.

Weapon (up to six): The hydraulics that power her suit give her monstrous strength, enough to get into fistfights with even the larger aliens. There is a mount on her right arm where a minigun can be affixed, though this means she can't punch with it. Another mount allows a grenade launcher to be attached to the upper left of her back, allowing it to fire over her shoulder. Though not technically a weapon, her suit is outfitted with jump jets that, although they don't allow for the heavy machine to fly, allow for jumps that can place her on the roof of a two-story building. Similarly, while not actually a weapon, her cybernetics have taken advantage of her blinded eye to co-opt that optical nerve and link it to sensors on her suit, allowing her to see an array of information including details about her suit status and also various environmental and rangefinding details useful in a combat situation, i.e. ladar scans and toxicology / radiation warnings.

Position on Infinity: Heavy weapons specialist, assists with the heavy lifting

Reasons they joined The Infinity: Revenge for being mutilated and the deaths of many people that she cared about at the hands of the aliens.

Bio: A career soldier, she was nearly killed with the rest of her unit in an alien attack. Initially expected to be bedridden for life, she was quick to volunteer for the experimental project to put critically injured soldiers back on the front lines by outfitting them with a super-heavy exoskeleton / life support system, and the invasive cybernetics required for them to interface with the suit as though it were their natural body. No longer able to survive outside of her suit or a similar cybernetic life support system, she has made it her mission to break the aliens into as many little pieces as possible, even if she has to do it with her (admittedly large and metal) bare hands.

[User]
Emily was already awake when the message was rang through the intercom to be at the briefing room in fifteen minutes. She had been set straight to the job of a neural networks operation as soon as she boarded, someone else taking care of her belongings and storing them in her cabin. She nodded to herself as she continued guiding a maintenance arm toward one of the dropships in the hangar. She clicked on the 'mount' button on her screen, and then once it had confirmed the task as being completed, she clicked on the 'drain fuel' option. A warning voice began to speak into her ear. "Warning: The draining of fuel must be monitored by an engineer or a ne-"
Emily spoke at the same time as the computer spoke to her. "Neural network operator bypass, authorization 'Whiskey-Bravo-Three-Nine-Five'."
The computer made a clicking sound as it authorized the drain, and pooled dropship fuel back into the tanks. The dropship was currently not needed, so she was making sure that if it had an accident that no fuel leaked. There were other dropships she had drained, however she left one fueled in case of an emergency that required it.
She locked her computer, which she was trained to remember to do. If someone were to access her computer, they would have a lot of power in the way of accessing databases. Most of the highly confidential stuff required a second authorization every time it was accessed, however there were still basic things that could be accessed or done. After locking, Emily took her Admin Deck and trotted down to the meeting area, where she sat in a chair at the very front, giving a salute to the Captain. She then logs into her Deck and is immediately greeted by several errors and things that people have messaged her about while she was logged off. Emily shakes her head to herself as she taps on her pad, going through everything.

[Assistant]
The earth-shaking sound of metal on metal footsteps warned of Jacqueline's arrival long before she came into sight. She had already been busy around the lower levels of the ship for some time, helping to move and install the large upright docking cradle that served as her necessary alternative to a bed. With her massive frame, there was no bunk that could fit her, and even if there was the regular diagnostics and maintenance required by her suit was most easily dealt with during a normal sleep cycle. Since such a thing couldn't fit into the crew quarters, a small section of the cargo hold had been cordoned off to function as her domicile. What it lacked in privacy it more than made up for in functionality, as the cargo hold was one of the relatively few places on the ship where she never had to worry about damaging the roof by raising her arms too high.

When she arrived at the briefing room, she had to duck slightly to fit in through the doorway. Her suit's integrated helmet was inactive, revealing her heavily scarred face and messily tied-back hair. The suit itself was blocky and industrial looking in a way that only military hardware was, and combined with her size she almost looked like one of her parents was an actual tank. Looking around, her one good eye passed over the available seating to rest on some crates left in the corner—crates that looked sturdy enough that they wouldn't just crumple under her weight. Walking over, she eased herself into a sitting position, bringing her head to eye-level with the rest of the room's occupants. Drumming her fingers on her knee with one hand, she scrutinized the rest of the crew that had so far shown up.

[User]
Brian Savior

Brian woke up with a new sense of enthusiasm, Staring at the metal wall infront of him he gotten off of his bed, and gotten ready for his new day saving lives, putting on a Khaki-colored Uniform with a Green Vest and Helmet which reminded him of a WWI Helmet in a way,

he armed himself up with a Simple Pistol and some ammo. and a Medical Kit full of cool medical stuff, he was extremely excited and he could barely stop himself from exploding with happiness, he walk-runned out of the door to what he thinks is the Briefing room. he walked inside viewing a medium-sized room with a Table in the middle,

and a person who looked more robot than man Sitting on a crate, just the view of her gave him goosebumps. he looked away from the person. she looked like she had a tank for a mother or something, he looked away and ignored her, he had more important things to do than stare at a robot, he stood with Enthusiasm and waited for briefing to happen

[Assistant]
Alfred was already heading in the direction of the briefing room when the message rang out. His dropship had docked a few hours ago, and he had taken the time to unpack in his cabin. Back on duty after a 6-month medical leave, he hoped that his fresh energy and enthusiasm would match how rusty he was. A few days in the training complex on Earth gave Alfred a bit of his old edge back, but live combat would be needed to return to full capacity.

He checked the map on his deck (similar to Emily's, but without administrative capabilities.) to ensure he was going the right way, before entering what should be the briefing room. The room was not small, but crates piled in the corners made it a little claustrophobic. The occupants were a varied bunch, not seeming to fit any description of a team. A small platform across from the door supported a scruffy man with multiple scars, who appeared slightly upset about something. "I'm sorry," Alfred said, with a polite, cultured tone. "I appear to have taken a wrong turn. Could any of you direct me to the briefing room?"

[User]
Brian Savior

Brian immediately answered the dude, Stepping forward to his direction he answered, his voice full of New-Enthusiasm, This is the briefing room I think!

[Assistant] Soloman's cold eyes watched the new crew as they poured into the briefing room. One of them who was carrying a medical kit, looked far too enthusiastic for Soloman's liking. One member asked if they where the briefing room was. "It's right here idiot!" He sneered distastefully. "It looks like we're all here. Good. We have just received a very basic mission. We need to transport ammo to an outpost in our base on Uranus." He gave the crew a stern look as to dare them to make a joke "Sadly our alien 'compadres' have taken several areas of Saturn and have heavy artillery," he pulled down a picture of the flight route "so to avoid being destroyed on your first mission, that does happen, we will stop on Jupiter where our a new military lab have devolved a device to make us travel past unseen, so we can safely land on Uranus. Sadly we may encounter an alien or two on Jupiter or Uranus so I expect you all of to have all your wepons on you at all times. If you don't and the aliens don't kill you I certainly will, and I'm not joking!" He knew one thing however, the neural networks manager would be into him, he protested when they were brought into his ship. Then again if he had his way a the female members of the crew would dress like french maids. "Any questions?"

[User]
Brian Savior

The commander yelling made Brian flinch a bit, he turned away from the person he was talking to and listened. and frowned after hearing what his mission was, and that he was just going to sit down and wait in a space ship all day,

He wanted to actually do something cool like Rescue soldiers from a POV camp or Lay siege to a city! but instead they were just being glorified cargo ships?. Brian Sighed. this was not what he signed up for.

[Assistant] Jack shifted her weight, causing the crate beneath her to creak in protest. When she opened her mouth to speak, her voice had a slightly synthetic edge to it that implied some level of cybernetic assistance to her voice, but even that couldn't mask the distinctive rasp that only a smoker's voice would have. "Experimental stealth tech on a high end warship, all for an ammo drop? There's either something more that we aren't being briefed on here, or else someone idiot in the brass thinks we're a freighter because this is some shit use of materiel if I've ever seen one. Though to be fair..." she looked around the room, her face the very picture of unimpressedness. "...I've seen forests that are less green than some of the faces here, they could probably do with a gimmie mission so they can decide if they'd rather run home or not before things get serious."

[User]
Emily let out a small huff. Ammo drops would mean little difference to her, probably only just a few extra scans to make sure that nothing had fallen out of place. However, the way the captain said they should have their weapons on them at all time made it sound like she would be going onto the ground with the troopers. A neural operator was senior crew on a ship, as they were the only members of the crew that could access remote control functions of many of the things of the ship. The senior operations officer could do that, too, but they never really had the time, and they were limited with what they could do. The captain could also do that, but it was obvious why a captain wouldn't be the one doing it.
Emily grunts. Maybe the reason she could be going onto the ground was to monitor the dropoff of the ammunition, and edit the ship's inventory likewise with her Admin Deck. She shrugged. She'd need an escort if she was going to do that.

[Assistant]
Alfred quickly sat in the closest chair as the captain began to speak, still slightly confused by the lack of professional atmosphere in the briefing room. The crew being briefed were arrayed at different points around the room, some even standing, with no attempt to even organize themselves by rank or position. The angry man at the front, apparently their captain, sounded a little drunk, and was yelling far more than necessary for the small space. After the captain finished his tirade, a heavily-scarred woman in a suit of heavy battle armor spoke up, raising a point about the absurdity of the mission.

Alfred raised his hand, then stood and spoke when no-one acknowledged him. "I must agree, using a warship to carry cargo is less than effective. What limited space we have is mostly used to hold the dropships and our own supplies and ammunition. Perhaps you meant that we would be escorting a convoy or single cargo ship to its destination?" Sitting back down, the young technician officer wasn't sure if he preferred a yes or a no. Which is worse, an incompetent captain or an illogical mission?

[User] Soloman smiled at the man who spoke up. "Right there!" He shouted "Right there is a model solider, who can guess what the rest of you where to dim to realise I didn't metion." He liked this kid, he was smart unlike most recruits he met. "Yes we are escorting a smaller convoy to our destination, Uranus. That's why I asked you all to bring your wepons. I wasn't lying about the gadgets though, we need to been unseen by the aliens on Saturn." He turned to the Medic "Listen son, that media it of yours may be used quite frequently on Uranus so, do you feel prepared to fight," he sternly frowned at him "and use it, at the same time!" He said at the same time to faze him a little. He slammed his hand on the desk "Well, do you?"

[Assistant]
Jack rolled her eyes at the captain who was increasingly sounding like a wannabe Drill Sergeant. "Take it down a notch, Commander. If we need ground support or extraction, that's where I come in. Leave the medic somewhere safe, I can drag any injured personnel back to safety where we DON'T risk having a hole blown through the skull of our support staff. We have one medical officer from what I saw of the unit roster, if sparky there gets critically wounded there's not gonna be anyone to patch him up."

Putting her hands on her knees, she rose to her full standing height. "Besides, we're still in Earth controlled space. Even if we DO run into hostiles, there's no way they'll have the numbers to pose a serious threat. We can just shell any exposed targets with the ship's guns, and we have enough ground firepower to dig them out of any bunkers they might somehow have set up. Unless there's some gaping hole in our intel, there's no reason to expect heavy resistance." She fixed Soloman with an unamused stare. "At least, nowhere near heavy enough to put support staff in the line of fire."


[System]
Apparent Age: 19

Gender: Female

Nation: Grado

Class: Faithful(Female)

Weapon Mastery: Staves E

Level: 1

Background: Arathyra was born in a small village, her mother served as the towns Wise Woman so to speak. Always ready with a healing remedy, or if the situation was worse, then her trusty stave. Her mother told her that the stave had been in the family for a very long time so you could always count on it. Arathyra, being a young girl, of course wanted to be like her mother and quickly learned alongside her the arts of healing. Eventually though when she was old enough she decided that she wanted to do something more important.

So Arathyra traveled to the capital in order to find a better use for her skills. Her mother gave her the family stave as well as another stave that Arathyra had never seen before as a farewell gift telling her that she would even be able to help people far away with it once she learned how to use it. Arathya was over joyed with the gift and promised her mother that she would learn how to use it before she departed on her adventure to the capital. She departed with a group of traders there heading there and decided to aim high and see if she could find work at the castle itself.

Plot-Susceptive: Yes

Equipment and Items: x1 Heal, x1 Physic, x1 Elixir

Personality: Arathyra is very kind and as a result rather naive. She gets very serious over things she cares about and she just wants to help in any way she can.

Ability Assessment: Arathyra is extremly talented in healing and can heal most wounds with ease but has no skill in any other area.

Quirks/Talents/Aspirations/Other: Freakisly ticklish, loves animals. Doesn't eat meat and is terrified of loud noises. Is a terrible cook but wants to get better and often volunteers to make food. Dreams of finding true love

R-button Summarization: A sweet young healer from Grado

[User]
Ret flicked his hand, loosening his knuckles triumphantly over his fallen foe. Still not realizing he punched someone who was not going to attack them. Glancing back to his comrades behind, he saw aldo using his form of magic. A dark, sinister kind. The type which reminded him of an even more sinister woman. Ret grimaced.

 ...But their foe was ahead, there was no time for such things. Anyone who would lend their skills and strengths were welcomed. With that notion Ret strode forward, gaze locked onto the overly talkative one they called morag.

 In between his hands a crackling orb started to materialize, growing with each incantation mummured in a harsh breath. His fingers clenched. Lightning was nature's fury, to call it - Man must harness man's own anger. Only then is he worthy of wielding such wrath. Ret had no lack of suppressed anger, he just needed something to let it out on. Watching as morag swung his weapon at marwood, he waited for a moment, then as the offender would draw back - he unleashed a lance of electricity straight at him!

[Assistant]
"It's gonna be hard to lay a finger on anyone once you're pinned to the wall mate," Archibald said as he slid his finger across the multitude of arrows in his hip quiver. His exposed thumb rapidly tapped across the dozens of nocks as he continued advancing, his one eye peering out from beneath his tattered hood. His gait was measured and his advance inexorable. He was concentrating so hard on Morag that he failed to notice a horseman rush past him until he engaged the eyepatched prick. As he easily sidestepped the clumsy swing, Archibald used that time to quickly nock the arrow and bring the string to his cheek. As soon as the mercenary looked behind him, Archibald's pupils narrowed. He could spot every wart, every pox mark and every scar on the miserable creature's face. He could see the cruel smile hidden under his mask. He could see the slight cateracting of his remaining eye as he turned to judge the horseman. He could spot the fresh pink scar tissue from their last encounter in the Grado woods. He narrowed his eye slits. It would not end there today. As Morag's head started to wrap around again, Archibald fired, the arrow spiralling majestically through the air...followed rapidly by another one at a lower angle...and another one even lower. With almost inhuman speed, the bandit leader was nocking and firing, unaware or perhaps just uncaring of who was behind the wretch.

"I am no friend of yours, royal," Archibald hissed, the final word dripping from his mouth like poison as he drew back another arrow, "your kind are scum to me, living in your decadence while others suffer for your lifestyle." He had no love for the high born given his history, and royals he ranked amongst the worst of the lot. Judging by how much from the larder Darius and Aiph were able to take, they were living quite comfortably. "You're lucky I haven't turned my bow on you yet," he said finally as he took a step back to draw the final arrow. Feathered of raven and cardinal, the arrow's shaft looked wormbitten and rotten, however the head was a completely different story. With backward facing barbs and cruel hooks on them, it was a complete horror of a beast...and it was making its way onto his bow.

[User]
Alvin stared Morag straight in the face. "We will pass." He declared with a sense of finality. He saw Marwood charge ahead at Morag, the villain raising his mace in preparation. Alvin brought his lance to bear, using his knees to urge Medea to flight. Her midnight wings flapped as they gained altitude, below he saw the Archer knock an arrow and fire at Morag.

"I am no friend of yours, royal, your kind are scum to me, living in your decadence while others suffer for your lifestyle. You're lucky I haven't turned my bow on you yet."

The archer hissed, Alvin barely heard it but the venom in his voice was clear. If that was the case why was he helping us? He DID almost hit Alvin a couple times with stray arrows. Perhaps he should be more wary of this character, and others rallied to help them. Alvin knew Griswal was behind him, as well as his other companions. So he flew over Morag and dove at the fighter that was assaulting Marwood's flank.
Sure he was bringing a lance against to an axe fight, but he had Marwood there to help him.

[Assistant] Marwood turned his horse just in to dodge the axe blow he gripped the spear closer to the point and stabbed at him. It was weak but enough to give him room to maneuver. "Alvin, I can handle this. Go help the others." He growled and stabbed at the fighter twice, both missing as he rode back. He growled and readied for the fighters attack his horse ready to move and dodge. "You really think you can take me? I beat dozens of bandits tougher than you. Your axe won't save you, barely any of you stand. If you run now I promise I won't chase you... If you don't I promise you will die on the end of a lance." He spoke straight faced staring right at him spinning the lance around him.

[User] Arathyra looked ahead worriedly as yet more fighting began. These next bad guys looked more capable then the other ones. Then as glanced over the group once more, she happened to see a one of their group was injured. She hurriedly rushed over to the Pegasus knight, "Oh no, you're hurt. Please let me help you." She raised her stave and gave a silent prayer, green refreshing light washed over the small cut making it vanish. Arathyra gave a sigh of relief, she was glad she hadn't messed up when she had a chance to be useful. Then she turned her attention to the fighting ahead ready to rush forward and help anyone else who was in need. "Don't worry if you get hurt again I'll fix you right up." she said as words of encouragement.