[System]
Age: 16

Gender: Female

Themesong: The Valedictory Elegy / Hedgehog's Dilemma / Cold Rain
Class: Bladeknight

Appearance: Hazel is a youthful girl with soft white skin. She has long straight red hair that reaches down to the small of her back. She has a small frame, and stands at a rather average height of 5'3. Hazel has a heart-shaped face adorned with deep green eyes. Hazel is graceful,and is deceptively strong despite her petite appearance. She is sure of step and has an almost commanding gait, oft earning the attention of others in the room, appearing as if she is the definition of 'confidence', whether or not this is true.

History: Hazel never really knew her parents, and has never experienced a conventional domestic lifestyle. At a very young age Hazel found herself abandoned into the foster care system, her birth parents unable and unwilling to support the child they refused to get rid of. Hazel bounced around foster homes, but never had good experiences in any of them. She lacked any sort of parental guidance, never able to call any of her foster parents 'mom' or 'dad'. As expected from one raised in such a difficult environment Hazel became a 'problem child'. The apathy of her foster parents turned to resentment, and Hazel's difficult home life turned worse as they began to hate her. Hazel, despite being a seemingly normal girl, had trouble making friends at her school, and she became aggressively anti-social during this time. People began to shut her out, and she found herself without any sense of self-worth, believing herself to be useless. As time progressed this shot sense of self-worth morphed into a very aggressive ego, forcibly asserting herself as 'better' then those around her to compensate. AS she made the transition from Middle to High School it was revealed to her that her current foster parents decided to get rid of her, enrolling her in AcadeMMO.

As she made the transition into AcadeMMO she thrived. She took quickly to her lessons, and naturally picked up the art of swordplay. Some would call her a prodigy, and this only served to feed into her growing ego. Other people began to take an interest in her, and suddenly she found herself near the top of the social food chain of AcadeMMO, her skills attracting friends. As people flocked around her she put on the mask of someone she wasn't, and slowly began to mimic the way her friends acted, becoming a regular kid. A regular kid with a massive ego masking a crushingly low sense of self esteem, but a regular kid nonetheless. Despite all the people around her Hazel still feels alone.

Statistics:
 When it comes to fighting, Hazel holds a simple philosophy: The best defense is a strong offense

 - Level - 2
 - HP - 70 (7)
 - MP - 30 (3)
 - Attack - 35
 - Magic - 10
 - Speed - 22
 - Accuracy - 15
 - Defense - 5
 - Evasion - 5
 - Resistance - 5

Spells/Skills:

True Strike: Finishing Move [2]- This move is Hazel's self-perfected finisher. The move is designed to finish a weakened enemy, and is only usable if the enemy *is* weakened. She targets the weakened enemy, and her blade pulses with magic energy. The attack will finish off simple creatures and other weak enemies, and will merely launch an blow with an additional 15 attack at stronger enemies. At higher levels the move can kill stronger creatures. Consumes 20 MP. Command: "Let's end this!"

Hemorrage [1]- Hazel allows the magic inside her to guide her blade, and finds an artery. The skills adds an extra 5 Attack to her blow, and causes the enemy to begin bleeding. If the enemy does not have blood the skill does not work, for obvious reasons. Consumes 10 MP. Command: "Bleed!"

[User]
Joe's breath halted, he had never heard of this summoner class before. That wasn't surprising, the only classes he really knew were the martial classes. He did have some limited information about Magi's, like clerks but that was really it. Oh well, it was just a Magi class. He was bound to work with them anyway. Yet, he still felt this strong urge to bounce. Maybe he was alright, though if he made one mistake Joe would leave, he would at least attempt to befriend the guy.

"Lets do the Cockatrice Hunt. I'd like to fight it. Besides, it has the most rewards. So that's pretty cool.", it seemed like it was the strongest of them all, and that was Joe's goal.

Fight, get stronger and fight stronger people. This would also be a good way of gauging the strength levels of the exbeasts per rank. It was advised to have three people so it would be best if they sought for someone else.

"So, lets search for someone else around here.", Joe proposed. "I'm a striker. I have no hatred for Exbeasts, they did me nothing wrong so that should be fine."

"Now, lets go look for someone else to join this club"

[Assistant]
_Japanese? He's talking shit about me. He's **definitely** talking shit._ Hazel let out a huff. _How dare he. I'm over here, trying to help out someone weaker, and this asshole is talking has the gall to talk about me in front of me, using words I can't understand._ The fact that Ryouta might be saying something else didn't even cross Hazel's mind.

Hazel got into the face of the upperclassman. "Listen here... you... jerk! If you have something to say about me, say it to my face!" Hazel, at this point, was fuming, hands balled up into fists at her side. _Where the hell does this guy get off acting superior to me? Hmph!_

[User]
**"It IS to your face. You little peepsqueak!"** Ryouta let go of Hayato's shoulder and turned to look down on her. Now everyone could see how volatile she was, what kind of drugs did she eat for breakfast!? Or was she overcompensating for her short stature? He looked at the way her fists balled up, any sign of aggressive movement and he would react to it. That'll be a chance to teach her about how much 'protection' Mages needed.

Gosh. He could not believe they let someone like her into the academy! Like yesterday's attempt at manslaughter isn't enough, now she's out for more blood!

[Assistant]
John was surprised that the Striker had no problems with Ex-Beasts, a lot of students Summoners included, seemed to at the very least dislike them."Oh yeah before I forget my name is John, what should I call you?" To be honest he also wanted to ask what weapon he used, but he didn't want to make it oblivious he had no idea what a Striker was, so he kept quiet about it.

Instead he focused on finding someone to be the last member of their party. _"A Cleric might be useful or maybe a Binder." _ Even though he had two Classes he preferred, it still wasn't easy to find a single person in this mass of people.

[User] "I'm getting real tired of you!" Hazel shouted, as she cocked back her fist. If Hazel was good at anything, it was picking fights with people larger then her. Upperclassman? Male? She cared not. Hazel sent a punch flying directly towards Ryouta's face.

[Assistant]
Ryouta saw the fist coming, he knew she would try something like this! He leaned back then swayed to the side, letting her fist pass inches away from his jaw before spinning around on his heel to face her again. He was suprisingly quick on his feet for most people's expectations of a Magi. Most thought they were slow and pampered, dragged down by their frilly clothes and prissy attitudes.

"**What are you trying to do with those puny arms, shortstuff?"** He goaded, wagging his finger at her in a "Nu-uh" manner.

[User]
Soka had asked four people total if they were interested in going on a mission with him, and so far everyone had declined.

_Jeez this sucks. Can't a guy catch a break around here?_ Sighing. _Forget it. I'll do some missions in a couple of weeks when I've met some more people._

Having given up, the red-brown haired Soka decided to go outside. He was moving through the lobby toward the main entrance, when he saw two males (Joe and John). _Just two? Maybe they have room for one more?_ But he was out of energy from asking the others from before.

About fo leave, he looked into the crowd and happened to see a red haired girl throw a punch at someone. Soka blinked and walked in that direction, definitely not getting close to any action that may take place, but to a place where he could watch.

[Assistant]
"Nah, she's just sort of what they'd call tsundere," began Hayato as the magi spoke to him in their shared language. Hazel wasn't having any of it though, and drew back her fist after another moment of taunting. With a shout she tried to punch the mage; Hayato started to move to stop them, beginning with,

"Whoa, Hazel, wait--"

But the mage barely dodged the punch, spinning out of the way, just in time for Hayato to catch it. With his face.

"--HIDEBU!"

Puny arms or not, Hazel was full of feminine indignation at the moment, thus her punch sent Hayato flying head over heels, bouncing comically along the ground until he finally landed head first, and slowly collapsed into a face down, ass up position. As he slowly lifted his aching head, exposing a black eye and swollen lip, a hissing trail of smoke curled into the air from the bright red imprint of a fist.

"Hayshel, maybe yew should come wiff me, and da udda guy go...wiff dem.." he managed, before fully collapsing.

[User]
His eyes got distracted by the big group again, this time a fight was erupting. The same midget girl that dared to challenge Hayato and beat him, the legendary stereotypical popular girl herself seemed to be in a verbal confrontation with this other guy that he hadn't seen before. She was aggressively attacking him verbally and he responded similar, though a little bit more on the defensive. She looked like she wanted to hit him and he looked like he was preparing to defend against it. That would be a dead game, he heard from Hayato that her offense was dangerous but her defense. If he really wanted to win he had to strike first and strike decisively.

Though he never saw this guy before. Perhaps he was a high rank too. He definitely seemed older so it was probable true. That would mean that this would be a fight between two high ranked people. Joe's blood started boiling, a smile cracking on his face from just watching the situation. He took a few steps forward to get in close proximity of it all, noticing Hayato in the corner of his eye he gave no attention to him. Watching the situation and thinking about how to escalate it.

That one popular girl threw the first strike, as he had predicted but the other guy was fast, faster than Joe. He was barely able to dodge that punch, seems like their speeds were kind of similar.

Hayato got caught up it in all and caught a clean one in the face. Giving him a rough beating making him look like your average domestic violence victim.

"Geez, you really did get your ass kicked. Didn't you? I'll count this as the second time. That means you got your ass kicked by a three foot girl twice.", Joe laughed at the situation. "Now I get why you want to be stronger", he teased.

"That was for betraying me for the popular girl. I thought we were going to team up bro. What happened?"

He looked around to see if he could recognize a cleric or a binder "Also, is there a cleric or a binder around this level? I heard I do good with them", he winked at Hayato because he had gotten that information from him.

[Assistant]
Tsundere indeed! He visibly cringed with each thud as Hayato bounced along the ground, there were more than several onlookers now. Some of the students stared agape in horror at the scene after they narrowly avoided the human projectile,

**"Look what you did! Mini-me!"** Ryouta exclaimed. He did not expect HIM, of all people, to come in between them.

_Hayshel, maybe yew should come wiff me, and da udda guy go...wiff dem.._

Da udda guy? Maybe he meant Ryouta.

**"I told you she was crazy man!"** He rushed over to check on Hayato, at least the guy was still breathing.

**"Is there a Cleric around here!?"** He kept his eye on 'Hayshel', now he knew her name. He would remember it. Oh yes, he would remember it.

[User]
Soka burst into laughter, seeing one guy get knocked across the room.

"Wow HAHAHAHA he got whopped that bad by a single punch," Soka laughed. "Ah, that cheered me up."

He was going to walk over to the guy that got hit to see if he was okay, but someone else walked over to him so he would probably be fine.

[Assistant] (Accidental post)

[User]
Ryouta dodging her punch only made Hazel angrier, and at first it didn't even register that her fist still connected with something. It wasn't until Hayato tried to speak that she noticed. She sighed with frustration, and only came up with one word for him. "Idiot." She noticed the crowd that had gathered. She still really wanted to hit the pompous Magi, but she knew it wasn't worth getting into trouble over. But she still _really_ wanted to hit _something_. She shot him one last dirty look as he walked to Hayato. She followed, standing over the boy who she had accidentally injured. "You better get up or the next time I hit you it's going to be on purpose, you idiot."

She already regretted offering him the option to go on an Assignment with him, but she was too deep now.


[System]
Age: 18
Physical Description:

Important items:
-Combat Knives: An old classic of war. They can be used as conventional knives, but Stella usually sheathes them in Hard Light to increase their cutting power. They're the only items she managed to hold on to down to the bitter end.

Short Bio: Stella is fairly silent about her past before being drafted. She was said to have had fairly strong promise as an athlete, even at an early age. In particular, she enjoyed gymnastics. Maybe due to her potential, she was abducted and drafted into the child soldier program.

Without much of a choice in the matter she was thrust into service as a fighter - no, a killer. She hated it. She hated being forced to fight. She hated being essentially held hostage. She wished for a chance, a turned back or an unlocked door; but no opportunity came. They kept a close eye on her because of her abilities. She could have done something, perhaps. But she would have died for certain.

In the waning hours of the war, Stella was ordered to fight in the pivotal Battle of Proxima. As the tides turned against the Ascendancy, Stella found her chance. Stationed in an outpost threatened to be overrun, she took her chance and ran as the confusion of the battle peaked.

Perhaps it was fate, or bad luck. Her desertion was noticed by the unit commander, and a kill order was put out on her. With the outpost falling to the enemy, and her captors turning their weapons against her, she was nearly killed.

Due to luck, or maybe the amount of fight she had put up, but Stella had survived long enough for the Rau've to descend onto the wreckage of the outpost. She was recovered, but her body had sustained so much damage that it was unlikely she would live without immediate action.

Stella had considered herself dead. She didn't have time to come to terms with the idea, but she had accepted that it was coming. But she awoke, somehow. Her body felt cold, and she couldn't feel her own heartbeat in her chest. She had been asleep for a long time. Even after waking, it took her a week to be able to move all her limbs.

Her body could not have been saved, she was told. But her mind was still intact. The part that could be saved was housed in the shell of a humanoid robot. An artificial heart pumped synthetic blood to keep her human brain intact.

Left to come to terms with her sudden change, she could only come up with one plan of action. She knew the party responsible for all of her misfortune. The ones who had stolen her life, and forced her into despair, and then shot her in the back when she turned to run from a fight she couldn't win. She joined the rebels the moment she was able to after waking.

Spell List: 6 Spells overall.

Bend Light (World): Stella can alter the direction of light. This is mainly used to bend light around her, making her invisible to sight. This of course doesn't affect things like sound or smell.

Electricity Manipulation (World): While before her... Loss of a body she mainly used this to enhance her weaponry, she has found a new application of her power. She can use this to boost her outputs beyond normal levels, increasing her strength and dexterity (potentially to Exceptional levels?) for a period of time.

Metal Call (World): Stella has the ability to induce magnetism on metal objects (even if they aren't normally magnetic). She uses this often to return her knives to her hands, but with her new body she has found considerable utility in being made of more metal than normal.

Hard Light (High): Stella can make objects of pure light. These objects are hard but translucent, and can be seen through similarily to glass. Most commonly this is used to create hardlight knives, which perpetually maintain a sharp edge and can cut through most materials such as body armor or mundane metals. She can also create a 5x5 surface at maximum, to be used as a shield, temporary cover, or perhaps a stepping stone. She can make them any color but they usually end up blue. They give off a decent amount of light but not so much that they'd be blinding to look at.

Exceptional Skill List:

Exceptional Bladed Weapons x2: Stella used her prowess at bladed melee weapons well before she lost her original body. Her abilities have not changed.

[User]
---

Incubus had been thorough and brutal. There wasn't much resistance left for him to deal with as he made his way to regroup with the Decoy Squad.

Finally, after a slightly longer walk than anticipated, he made it to the battered hangar where the Decoy Team had planned to hit. He noticed two very important things. One, the fighting was already over when he arrived. Two, there were more people there than there should have been. He quickly recognized his fellow crew and the child soldiers... but then also a mountain of a man, some girl, and-

BOOM!

-and a sudden... meteor impact? No, actually it reminded him more of how he had entered the battlefield.

'What the hell, I just did that less than an hour ago and already I got copycats?' he mused to himself while he scanned the situation. He quickly split the visual feed on his HUD, having the Belial zoom in on the impact site while he focused on the group before him.

He also realized he should probably let John and Rachel know it was him since, now that he thought about it, he hadn't shown them his armor before the mission started...

"Well howdy boys and girls, I see you made a right mess o' things without me," he greeted them, stomping on over. His accent no doubt made his identity clear, electronically distorted by the armor or not. But who were these newcomers and why hadn't they been shot? And why did the big guy's outfit give him the nastiest deja vu, like he'd just seen something similar- "OH SON OF A-" His cannon immediately locked on. Of course, he was another member of Incubus. He had to be. At that same time, the dust in the distance cleared enough for him to make out a large mech-suit, even taller than the Belial. 'The hell...? Not Incubus, but-'

And then the whole ship started blaring alarms. He recalled the lights flickering a bit on his way through. 'That thing got loose didn't it...' He recalled the warning signs he'd seen before he'd run into Snow and the first Incubus merc.

"I swear if one more thing happens, I'm gonna lose it!" Kelan growled. "But first order of business... why aren't we shootin' him?!" Kelan pointed at Rook... though the finger on his busted arm didn't extend. "Because I just ran into one o' his friends and suffice it t' say we didn't sit down for coffee and biscuits!"

Meanwhile the mech in the distance broadcast some sort of code. In hindsight, he probably should have kept track of Moonstrike's codes. He'd normally have just radio'd Natasha to ask, but somebody had jammed the comms! Likely Incubus, which was just another reason that he really just wanted to shoot this guy!

[Assistant]
"You talk too much. Our ancestors came up with a nice, simple word for these occasions, it's the word 'no'." she rolled her eyes at Rook's response just in time to see something in the sky. A dot at first, but quickly getting bigger and bigger. Soon the dot had arms, legs, thrusters...

As if this couldn't get any worse. It almost sounded like the start of a bad joke. 'Two former child soldiers, a giant, a merc and a battlemech meet outside a prison ship...'. "Ye've gotta be takin' the piss here!" she groaned somewhere between frustrated rage and utter terror, hastily repositioning to put something between herself and the third newcomer. As if it would be of any help against that mountain of metal and death. Somehow she doubted her telekinesis would be enough here. And she thought things have gone out of her league before. At this rate, the entire Ascendancy Fleet would show up in the next five minutes.

Fortunately, this one seemed to be a fan of poetry as well. If poetry meant a friendly, then there was now a good chance they might make it out alive even if Tiny decided to do something stupid. On the condition that this bright red beast could fit into the ship's corridors. "Nice entrance." She regained some of her composure and stepped out from her cover. "Did you rehearse that, or is that just the way you roll?"

The appearance of yet another armored suit, this one somewhere in between Rook and the Red Baron, made her seriously doubt the life choices she's made over the previous year. It was only when the suit's occupant spoke did she breath a sigh of relief. "Finally!" It had to be the big guy, no one else spoke in an accent even weirder than that of Arcturus. She was relieved when Kelan didn't trust Tiny either, yet at the same time disconcerted when he mentioned a hostile encounter with one of his buddies. True to her word, she's kept her eyes on the newcomers, though mainly Rook, and thus hasn't noticed the damage Belial's suffered. "Careful, big guy. I heard a high-powered railgun shot just before the defecation hit the ventilation. Any helpful sensors on that thing that might tell us whereabouts he might be hiding?"

[User]
Innocence Lost

Eldrid and Natasha

N/A, waiting for Bartimaeus and Crowvette

John Green and Orky

John didn't show it, but things were moving too fast for him as well. Yes, it was bad leadership for him to not be able to absorb new developments quick enough, but things were still moving too fast! So first, he spoke to Dante, "Your code checks out; you're accepted!"

Then Kelan's words came to him, and John said, "We're watching each other to see if he's an enemy - He says he's against the Ascendancy as well. Do you mean that he isn't?!" His face met his palm as he turned to Rachel and Narvia and said, "You two and Orky keep watch on him while we get to the bottom of this." Then to Dante, whose type of power armor he recognized, "Newcomer! If your sensors are sophisticated enough, look for snipers and bombard them with artillery!"

All the while, he was still in his 'liquid form', a liquid form that was a countermeasure to most forms of attack, but was of limited effectiveness against attacks that can just scatter said liquid form all over the deck. And by that, a punch from Rook can do that.

Orky didn't need to wait; he had stepped ahead, then turned around to face Rook, sizing him up to see if he was truly the worthy opponent he seemed.

Snow Cecil

"Either Moonstrike or the mercenaries used a jamming field to cut off communications - that's why I had to go back to my Starfighter in order to report," Snow Cecil said. "As I said, the mercenaries are only presumably in Ascendancy Service; I suspect they belong to someone trying to keep their dirty laundry secret, but it's more plausible that someone's just trying to steal the glory."

A pause, "Also, from what I gathered from the trajectory of the mercenaries - who wear the armor of the Incubus group - as well as Moonstrike, they are heading for the chamber of an AI called Realist, a high-priority prisoner with information relating to the Ascendancy." An idea then came to him, "It seems that their prime priority is Realist itself; not to be overconfident in my skills, but I can calculate the exact position in the AI's chamber where Monarch, their leader, is confronting Realist. You might be able to drop an 'Anvil' on his head, then."

Snow smiled at that; this idea isn't likely to succeed, but it will inconvinience Incubus. And on the off-chance it did succeed, it would save Realist. Granted, gaining access to Realist afterwards would still be a pain, but it was all worth it.

@Starlance@Bartimaeus@Stern Algorithm@Crowvette@KillamriX88@The Jest@CriticalHit@Araby264@Landaus Five-One@AtomicNut@Senhara

[Assistant]
Stella grit her teeth. Now it was bringing up Proxima. 'Bastard.' She figured if she thought it hard enough, maybe it might prod into the cloaked figure's mind just as it had done to her. She wasn't a fan of having her knives stolen. At the same time, maybe Stella's overall anger that she had kept down was boiling back up now that she had a clear threat to work towards.

Stella didn't have much time to work over the situation, so she went with something she knew would work. Magnetizing the floor the knives were passing over, she made sure that if there were any metallic objects passing above it, their trajectory would be deflected to the ground. Amongst the illusion copies, her true knife pulled downward and clattered against the hallway.

Reaching out her arm, she called the knife back to her with magnetic force quickly. She didn't want to leave her knife out in the open, even if she had one to spare. As it touched her hand it turned invisible with her, seemingly disappearing entirely. Stella was ready for another attack when the wind burst from the runes.

She was already magnetically attached to the wall, but in order to stay on without being thrown she had to increase her grip. Almost clawing into the wall, she managed to stay on. At the same time, she couldn't advance forward to pursue the cloaked figure. "It's getting away!" She shouted, though she doubted that anyone could hear her through the wind.

Partially due to a natural human instinct, and partially due to her strong magnetization, Stella ducked her head down to keep the wind off of her face. In that moment, she could have sworn she saw something strange amongst the streaking wind. A crystal, and it was using some sort of magic as well...

'Yeah right.' Her eyes were giving no errors, so it must have been her imagination. She stayed put, riding out the wind until it was all done. Stella knew when she would bring her head back up, she wouldn't see anything like that at all.


[System]
AGE: 18
SIZE: 5'

ABSTRACT: A tomboyish and adventurous orphan girl, who loves fighting and finding artifacts.

APPEARANCE:

DETAIL:
History: Sera's history is fairly short, since not a lot happened since her parents died when she was 8. So she had to fend for herself starting that age. Out of necessity Sera learned how to fight and to loot nearby ruins and other islands for valuables to sell.

Personality: For the most time, Sera is quite the tomboy, not seeming to be interested in "girly" things, whatever they actually are, and loves to challenge people, even if it is just verbally. She can get get quite vocal and cheeky at that, too. But in the end, if you get to know her well enough, she might warm up to you enough to be nice.

EQUIPMENT:
-Her glider
-Her "Combat Lance", aka, her trusty wooden stick
-Bag for looted goodies

[User]
"You don't have to do this, Kel," A man said, his husky voice tinged with sorrow.

"It's been pulling at me, Glenn, and I can't deny it this time," A young woman responded, her silvery tone just barely above a whisper.

An old key on a ring dangled from one slender finger off Kelari's outstretched hand in front of Glenn. He rubbed his bald head and shuffled in place, dark eyes flicking aimlessly about their modest home. A crackling fire in the hearth filled in the silent minute as he thought it over.

He pressed his lips together as he stared at the key, then suddenly let out a bitter laugh.

"You're as stubborn as you're mother," He said, shaking his head.

Kelari offered him a shrug and a short smile.

Glenn hesitated for a second, then took the key and pocketed it. A smile masked his disappointment, but he gave her a nod of understanding. "I know I'll never be able to convince you otherwise."

Another brief intermission of crackling flames, accompanied by Kelari rhythmically tapping her fingers on her thigh.

"The parlor will be fine under your management," she assured him.

"Hah, I was hoping I wouldn't have to open the shop in the mornings anymore but, ah it's been a good many years."

The two laughed along with each other for a little while, but it the awkward melancholy from the thought of possibly never seeing each other again hung thickly over the both of them.

"If you're really ready to leave this all behind," Glenn said, moving for a wooden lockbox settled against the wall, "You should... take this with you."

Kelari curiously shifted closer on her tip toes to get a look over Glenn's shoulder. Bear of a man as Glenn was, Kelari was tall enough to see over him even still.

Using the same key Kelari gave him, he opened the lockbox and took out an object wrapped in a dark cloth. Carefully unwrapping it, he revealed a dagger in a leather scabbard. He regarded the supposed heirloom with a ghost of a smile, running a couple thick fingers along the rune-covered scabbard.

Kelari looked on with her mouth hanging slightly open and a breath caught in her throat. Those runes were familiar, somehow. Colors and shapes entered her mind, as if a dream long since gone tried to remind her from the oldest of memories, or jumbled words of a book she could barely recall reading.

"It was her's," he explained, "I think if you're going to go out looking for her, you should take it with you." The dagger laid flat over both Glenn's palms, and he offered it to Kelari.

After all this talk and posturing, Kelari actually hesitated. It became difficult to move as it settled in all at once that this may finally be when she finds what was missing in her life, but also that she might never return. She swallowed hard. The call to action was made by the king already, and there was never a better excuse to make for the surface than to find some mystical wish granting stone. With any luck, if she was anywhere near and still alive, Kelari would find her again. But, there were friends here. A comfortable home and living that could provide for the rest of her life.

Yet somehow... it didn't satisfy her.

Kelari's resolved hardened in her icy blue eyes, and she took the dagger without another moment's hesitation. She winced, clutching the scabbard in both hands, then stepped in and wrapped her arms tightly around her uncle's torso.

Glenn lifted his arms in surprise at first, then enveloped his niece in a powerful embrace. He could just barely feel her shaking as she dug in her nails. Stroking her hair gently, he whispered, "If she's out there, I know you'll find her somehow. Come back to us, you hear?"

---

Once dawn came, Kelari had enough time to settle her heart and mind to where she could confidently join the others at the meeting spot. Now all rested and sated, with a brass-colored cloak wrapped around her for warmth in the chilly morning air and a well-stocked backpack given by one of the villagers, she felt a little more ready to tackle the unknown.

Some familiar faces came to see her off, giving their best wishes to Kelari before she left for the surface world. The head librarian said he would certainly miss Kelari, but if she comes back that she better be adding her own stories to his library. Readers would be dying to know all about the surface world.

After seeing a few others for some extra odds and ends for the road, Kelari peeked over the crowds to find other faces she might've missed. Blin was going to be missed. She loved telling her outrageous stories to him, but maybe when she came back he'd be old enough to get that tattoo he pestered her about for so long.

Eli... known accomplice to Blin, and makes just as good of company. Always nice when people appreciate the work of an artist.

When the thought of Lee came around, Kelari absently clutched the necklace around her neck. A trillion cut aquamarine set with a pair of silver wings hanging on a leather cord. It was the best replication of that old necklace that Kelari could ever get, and Lee was the one to craft it for her.

Kelari hopped up and looked around again. Maybe she could see a few more of her friends before leaving.

[Assistant]
Lee puckered her lips as she looked around the shop. No one was home, it seemed. The woman sighed and turned back, a little disappointed to have missed Kelari. Oh well, maybe later on in the day, she'd thought as she waved hello then goodbye to a few people that had addressed her on the street.
Humming a tune under her breath Lee made her way back home, dropping the groceries onto the kitchen table. The mess her brothers and father left behind from breakfast made her sigh in exasperation as she began to clean the mess. "Oh your Daddy's rich and your Ma is good-lookin'. So hush little baby, don't you cry," she sang, the clash of metal against metal from a door or two down not bothering her in the least. "One of these mornings you're going to rise up singing. Can you spread your wings, can you take flight? But till that morning, there's nothing that can harm you. With Daddy and Mami, standing by," Lee sang, looking out of the window as the sun winked at her from behind clouds.

The day passed slowly but Lee didn't mind, going about chores that didn't really need redoing and making sure the house was in order. Watering the flowers and plants, making sure no little night buggers had eaten any of her vegetables.
Lunch time happened around the afternoon, Lee cooking with a bounce in her step, gently picking leaves out of her brother's hair before sitting her family down. It was an uneventful meal, Lee watching them devour the food messily and somewhat like animals.
When they'd finished Lee received a kiss from her father on the cheek, letting him get back to work after he'd thanked her. She took her brothers out behind the house and proceeded to continue cleaning them off. The boys were almost always covered in mud, scratches and scrapes from their adventures around Heron. Lee washed and bandaged their cuts before sending them off to their rooms to finish their studies.

Night fell eventually and Lee watched the town grow sleepy and quiet, the skies painted with a violent brush. She sat outside in her little woven chair, the fabric of the blankets lining it soft against her back. The woman plucked a match from her pocket and struck it against the side of the house, pulling out an ivory pipe and lighting the insides. Calming scents of lemongrass and lavender filled the air around her, a slightly bitter but familiar taste filling her mouth. Lee loved to sit back like this when the world was growing quiet, loved to stare up at the sky knowing her family was safely inside. Just as she was about to exhale though, a bright flash shine across the sky. Once, twice, then many more times. Lee watched in stunned fascination, pipe forgotten. She'd never seen anything like it in all her life. Right after it was over, Lee swallowed, not sure how to react. She hurried inside, dumping the smoldering content of the pipe outside before doing so and then made her way to her bed, remaining there until the next morning.

_____________________________

A star. Someone was shouting loudly about a star. Trying not to fall all over herself, Lee scrambled to the window, leaning out as far as she could to hear everything. Her mind instantly went to her brothers, the rest of her brimming with curiosity. Without a second thought she got herself ready, changing into something a little more protective, leather boots feeling strange as they hugged her calves and her usual breathy tops replaced with something more sturdy. Packing a bag of basic necessities, she thought of the adventure she would be departing. It was possible she wouldn't ever return. But finding the star guaranteed a good life. It meant her father could rest easy and her brothers would have a better life. Lee's hands hovered over an old blade her father had made for her as a gift, a single pale green gem in its hilt. Her heart hurt at the idea of letting go of her family but at the same time, she believed it was necessary. Right now, anyway. So with a determined huff Lee was off, both excited and nervous.

Finding Sera at the meeting spot didn't surprise Lee too much. The girl had determination and a knack for weaseling out of the toughest of situations, so she'd heard. Gaius however, she did not expect. Both people stood out like a white mare in a thunderstorm, Gaius being as tall and Sera well, just being Sera. Lee's dark eyes flew over faces, most of the people being ones she didn't know. That was fine. Honestly, Lee didn't know how this was going to go. If they were going to split into groups or go off on their own. But all her thoughts were happily kicked from her mind when she saw a figure far too familiar to be anyone else but her. Containing her excitement, Lee strode forward and put a hand to the woman's arm to get her attention, all nervousness forgotten. "Kela? It's really you! I'm so happy to see you," Lee smiled, her greetings for Sera and Gaius suspended at the moment.

[User]
Sera let out a chortling chuckle. "Maybe you as a 'royal guard' should step up your game! Otherwise you might oversleep your king's assassination!", she exclaimed mockingly, but remained happily seated. Clearly Sera wasn't one for the respect of nobility, not out of spite for nobility, no, but more that she didn't see them as special, just ordinary humans and as such, she'd treat them as ordinary humans.
And as such, she treated Gaius like she would anybody else she didn't particularly care about other than being a target for her enjoyment.
However, there was somebody she did care, at least a little, about, who wandered past, apparently also taking part in this expedition, so Sera waved back at Lee just before she was distracted by another girl, Sera thought to know, but wasn't sure.

She turned back to Gaius as he questioned her place in the expedition. "Har har! Alsmot starving to death does that to you. But I didn't take you for somebody who'd abandon their King to go on an adventure.", she giggled. "Or were you, by chance, sent as some sort of envoy?" The last statement quite audibly was uttered in spite, but if you knew Sera well enough, you'd know, she didn't really want to hurt Gaius saying such things, but she just couldn't help it, poking fun at people, insulting them. It gave her such a good feeling in her chest and she could still be nice to the people she actually liked.


[System]
Appearance: Malachi is a man of imposing stature, standing at 6'8" and weighing over 350 lbs, solid of physique and feature, with enough muscle and scarring for a small army. However, an extravagant hairdo and easy smile prevent him from coming off as brutish or scary. While his dark eyes and steely gray hair don't do much to offset his desaturated palette, he does have a few dyed streaks in his 'do and the green of his outfit catch the eye, specifically the green cloth decorating his steel-ridden leather armor over murky black cloth pants.

Age: 42

Race: Half-elf

Abilities: Malachi possesses the upper limits of human strength and constitution. His is an almost supernatural fighting sense; acutely aware of his surroundings and himself, he wields astonishing finesse and martial prowess. Thanks to magical stimulants, he also boasts great regeneration and not half-bad magical resistance.

Skills: Malachi's ability is more than skin deep, not just natural talents and magical enhancement. His origins and the ensuing life of fighting, long before he rose to the status of 'champion', demanded unwavering, constant education and training. He worked hard over decades to become a masterful brawler and whispered-of warrior, filling himself with expertise, tactics, and mastery. However, fighting is not at all who he is. Malachi is a skilled hunter, builder, charm-maker, and companion. He boasts a number of mundane skills related to upkeep and mending, though none terribly extraordinary, despite his own extreme overstatement of his cooking ability.

Personality: Powerful, genuine, and full of life, Malachi is a vivacious warrior. Though respecting of strength, he doesn't believe it is anything more than a tool, and though lauded as many by a hero, he decries heroism and his own status. Malachi desires no particular glory nor strives for any particular ideals. Instead, he only wishes to live truly and fully, and for others to do the same.

To that end, he's both critical and dismissive of ego, secrecy, dishonesty, supremacy, and propriety, as such sometimes coming off as rude, compulsive, selfish, and disrespectful. Those who display such qualities find him a man of brutal and unrepentant honesty, who doesn't find it necessary to deal with the slightest lick of nonsense. However, he's a true friend for those who show him strength of will and heart, putting his empathy and intelligence toward helping them live better lives, too.

He loves fighting, in particular fair fighting, but not killing, though he will harden his heart and do so if there's no other way. Despite the good he's done for others, he insists he's not anyone special, and doesn't in fact go about making others' benefit his goal. As such, he doesn't often see the big picture, and requires direction in order to accomplish big things.

In short, he's a straightforward fellow, a fighter at heart who wants to live life to the fullest.

History: Hailing from Sydane, an industrious nation of mountainous islands linked by natural bridges and abundant shallows in the southern sea, Malachi found himself surrounded by war at a young age, owing to Sydane's neighboring nation-states Ishkigal and Venbajeer. As the scion of a prominent fighting family in a culture that prized martial ability, he drilled from a young age. Though essentially a commoner, his larger-than-life, straightforward attitude landed him an unlikely friendship: Ephraim, Sydane's crown prince and future king, who found him a refreshing change from the nobility. Their camaraderie thrust Malachi into the forefront of the action when war came to Sydane's shores.

Too soon, he found the wonderful life he so enjoyed under assault. Fellowmen, friends, and eventually family fell in that six-year war, and while Malachi's innermost values remained firm, the war never left him. His love of peace and plenty served him well, but he found himself growing bored. Fighting, he had learned, was a part of life. To that end he served as a mercenary, powering through thick and thin, until the day of his old friend's coronation. After that, he left his land behind, roving across Unira to see what the country had to offer. He ate, drank, fought, and made merry, fighting heroic battles and taking care never to lose his life. Uncaring of what others thought, he lent his strength to whatever cause he believed in, and grew both rich and famous as a mercenary. Eventually, with the reckless abandon of his youth faded away, he settled down in the fortress town of Giltersain, married, and had three children. Thoughts of his homeland had faded.

Everything came rushing back, however, when news reached the town of a catastrophe not far from Sydane. The latest expedition into the furthest reaches of the mine below Ishkigal, now an economic powerhouse following its defeat and reconstruction decades ago, had broken forbidden ground. Nightmarish creatures, twisted mockeries of man, surged from the ancient, chiseled passageways to slaughter all in their path, their plagued fangs twisting their victims into gibbering minions to join the flood. Heroes from across the continent flocked to the city and delved below, and despite his wonderful life Malachi joined them. Old friends by his side, he adventured into the lowest depths imaginable, where the nighmarish bones of an eon-forgotten civilization sprang to life to annihilate their disturbers. No word exists of what exactly happened down there, since those few who returned -irreparably changed- refused to speak of it, but those who came carried with them ancient weapons, found and used by necessity. Malachi wielded fists of stone, or perhaps fossil—pieces of Those who came before. They served him as both weapons and as reminders: that heroism was a foolish fantasy.

When war erupted across Unira not long after, spurred by the ambitions of Emperor Lucius, the former hero took no side. Leaving the nightmare beneath Ishkigal far behind, he took refuge with his family in the far north of Alliance territory, fighting bandits and undead, and eventually, Empire soldiers that came to claim his life for their own. Eventually, Malachi did take up arms for the Alliance, his campaign culminating in the Tiarden Alliance's surprise victory. One battle did not win the war, however, and Malachi -grievously wounded- knew his limits. Faced with death in battle against the Empire, Malachi panicked and chose to be sealed away for the sake of the future, leaving his family behind.

Other: Malachi wields a pair of gauntlets, perhaps more accurately describable as shield-fists, that he casually calls the Heavies despite their remarkable -and perhaps abominable- nature. Made of pitch-black stone, they take substantial strength to wield, though the grace with which Malachi does so wouldn't suggest it. Far more remarkable is the Heavies' origin, which has led tale-tellers to hail them as the Dregs of the Planet. Brought forth from the Utter Depths, the deepest dark known to the world, they are freakishly dense and resonant. They absorb all manner of magic, flat-out nullifying most spells and curses that Malachi even comes near, let alone blocks with them. Strong spells that strike them are 'eaten', empowering the gauntlets with their magic temporarily. They resonate with their wielder, allowing weighty blows to create directed tremors and shockwaves. In fact, they seem somehow linked with him, in a manner eerily parasitic. They are resilient -not impervious- to harm, but they visibly regenerate when damaged, and pieces of them possess toxic, degenerative qualities.

[User]
~Izel~

---

Izel watched as Sylphie enthusiastically introduced herself. How adorably violent, but it seemed like the bandits were completely immune to fear. Or perhaps they had forgotten it? Ufu, well then, Sylphie was certainly going to enjoy herself. The bandits didn't hesitate to rush them, thinking them nothing more than exactly as Izel said. Innocent girls lost in the mountains, easy prey for the vile people like them.

The mage merely watched with mild curiosity as they rushed them. A good formation, for average people. How boring. They weren't going to be good entertainment at all, were they? The mage sighed lightly. Unlike Sylphie, this was going to be utterly boring for her it looked like.

While several headed for Sylphie, Izel coldly faced those headed for her.

"My my, so rude and brutish. When a cute girl asks for help, you give it to her." Izel let out a long, drawn out sigh. "But I suppose you uneducated flies wouldn't understand that, would you?" She supposed she could just wipe them all out here, but where would the fun in that be? She wanted some entertainment after all.

The bandit that rushed her swung his sword - from an outside perspective, it seemed like it had hit her - yet it sliced nothing but air.

"Yoohoo, what are you aiming at, hm?" Izel had somehow moved from where she had been standing to a space five feet away, waving playfully at the bandit. "Seeing things are you? My, perhaps you need a doctor?" Another bandit made another attempt to strike, but his blade struck air all the same. "Ah, ah, really. Are you so easily fooled by that?" The second bandit's eyes widened as a cold, pair of hands gripped the side of his face from behind. "No fun at all, are you?"

To onlookers horror, his entire body began petrifying. The bandit shouted, screaming and clutching at his throat in horror as slowly he was turned to stone.

"Whoopsie." Izel was standing behind him, flexing one of her hands. "Oh dear, all I wanted to do was share a bit of knowledge with him. Oh well~" The tone of her voice and what she was saying sharply contradicted the other. The first bandit, undeterred headed right for Izel...and this time his sword struck!

But -

"You even kill your own comrades. My my, you bandits are an honorless lot." Izel was standing behind him, and he had just struck down one of the other bandits. A grin formed on Izel's lips, slowly growing as she turned to face the group of bandits. "Well, I suppose it's about time I stopped playing around with kid games, then, hm?" She raised her arm towards the group of bandits. This was a rather inelegant spell, but often times such brute force was needed for a show of power.

A fireball formed in her hand, before it grew, nearly tripling in size. With barely a thought, it blasted through the group of bandits, slamming into one of their fortifications and exploding on impact.

[Assistant]
Aerarius
I can't say I'm surprised. Sylphie was never one for subtlety, Aerarius thought as he silently assessed the situation. There didn't seem to be any traps ahead, and the bandits were already alerted, so he saw no point in trying to preserve the element of surprise. Lastly and most importantly, he knew he wouldn't learn much by sitting back here while Sylphie and Izel did all the work.

"If you don't mind, Byron, I'm going to assist them," he spoke to the beastman. Immediately after voicing his intentions, he dashed up the hill after the others. A small, metallic dome shaped shield unfolded around his left arm. His right arm gripped the sword resting in a rigid sheath on his waist, drawing it from its resting place.

His seeming enthusiasm to join the fray wasn't to shed blood or amuse himself. No, Aerarius' goal was to gather information and knowledge. The fighting style employed by the bandits, the architecture of their camp, the armor and weaponry they used, all of these were things he wished to know and understand. It wasn't an option to stay behind, because if Aerarius did so, Sylphie would kill all of the bandits and Izel might turn the camp into a smoldering crater before he had a chance to observe, study, and perhaps capture someone to interrogate.

The two of them had already dispatched the bandits in their way, so he would need to head further up. The automaton rushed past Sylphie and Izel, bashing a bandit with his shield along the way, and slowed to a stop at the breach where Izel's fireball struck. Shrouded by the smoke and dust of the explosion, but also unable to see what lay beyond, he slowly walked forward out of the smoke, no longer afraid of anything the bandits could possibly throw at him (or, for that matter, whatever his more reckless allies might throw from behind him) and ready to reintroduce the might of the Brass Legion to the world.

[User]
At the tail end of the procession, Malachi held his silence as he kept his distance. The thieves' den lat just ahead, and while Byron seemed eager to strategize, the brawler just knew that a few choice members of their impromptu squad would march right up and announce their presence. In fact, Izel and Sylphie did just that, the latter swaggering up with an almost disgusting confidence. Though he couldn't claim much experience with them, Malachi was beginning to see that children with power were dangerous things. What would an immature, highly-emotional child with neither responsibility nor restraint do with incredible strength...? This, apparently.

He watched as Sylphie gave a half-hearted attempt to coax a surrender out of the bandits, but they didn't seem to understand the predicament they were in. Stupid. As Malachi could attest, any highwayman worth his salt was as cautious as he was cunning, riding the fine line of the hyena between predator and prey. After negotiations went south, the slaughter ensued. From a ways off, Malachi watched with folded arms and a stony frown. Sylphie butchered the vagrants up one after another, and Izel treated them like playthings, toying with them until their tatters fell through her fingers. Malachi counted himself lucky that circumstances established him as a sort of compatriot to these killers. Slaying monsters was a duty often asked of the strong, and in both days spent wandering and in his village home, he'd saved many a life by putting an end to such threats. He didn't exactly want to spend enough time around them for their conceptions to change, and after seeing this, he didn't want to test his mettle as badly.

A moment after Aerarius left to join the dogpile, Malachi shook his head. "Seen all I need to," he told Byron and Efander. He turned partways, trying to get a lay of the land and sky. "If ya don't mind, I think I'll be on my way." A lot could change in a few hundred years, but the sun at least would lead him south until he reached the sea. After that, he could trace the shoreline until he caught sight of Sydene. Given the likelihood of his country being intact and recognizable -that is, not at all- he felt no particular rush, other than wanting to be away from here. Truly, he thought with a dry chuckle, I got all the time in the world.


[System]
Gender

Male

Age

24.

Appearance

Personality
Hardened. Possesses a searing hatred for discrimination. Will snap into erratic and irrational fits when angered. Hateful of his grotesque appearance.

Background

---

 His head rose above the bubbler, he ran a charcoal black hand across his lips. The 'Colored Only' sign draped some inches above his head. Adorned in a short-sleeved white button up, brown slacks, black socks, and black dress shoes, he entered the church from the back door after a brief re-hydration recess. He took the stairs up to the balcony where the colored section was and sat himself where he thought the rest of the sermon could be heard best. A frivolous pursuit. This far back in the church, all one can hear are the occasional claps from the folks below and the pastor's occasional "Thank you, Lord!"'s humming their way up the balcony, only for the sound to be sucked up by a sea of black bodies shoveled together in rusty seats. There were black churches, but Walter wasn't one to subconsciously and indirectly propagate the social mores de jour—legal or not.

 It was the Jim Crow south. 1942. War raged overseas, and the condition of the black person in the land of the free wasn't much ado about freedom at all. America was fighting a war on two fronts: one for the freedom of oppression from the Reich; the other for freedom of her own dark sons and daughters at home. It was this patriotism, and this secret optimism that by becoming a war hero, he could elevate his status as a citizen, that caused Walter to enter the war shortly after FDR announces America's involvement in December of '41.

 What Walter—and many of his other black servicemen—did not expect is the segregation even on the frontlines. Few and far were companies mixed together. All black infantry squadrons and platoons were the first ones sent into the fray, many of them severely crippled (mentally and physically), thousands more dead or M.I.A. Hundreds went A.W.O.L. Not only were these all black platoons and their individual servicemen and the objects of extreme prejudice, they were also experimented on. Unspoken horror stories of black service members subject to mustard gas, chemical baths, and serum injections all in the hopes of creating the ideal soldier. (Un)fortunately, it worked.

 Walter was one of the middling subjects, a guinea pig to a near-perfect chemical bath whose strains had been tested for months to produce radical change within human cells. As a result of the bath, his skin is forever scarred, marked with: boils, discolorations, burns, and hardened scar tissues--a testament to the inhumane treatment he and many of his fellow colored servicemen underwent for the sake of liberty. But he didn't desert, he couldn't—if he went home he'd be a Negro and a deserter. It wouldn't be more than a week before the valiant White Knights were knocking on his door with torches and nooses. No. He would earn his right to be called a hero—to be called man and not boy.

---

Superpower and how the character got it: Solar Empowerment: Walter's cells became hyper-pinocytic, that is their ability to take in energy—the energy of the sun—was enhanced hundreds of times over. When Walter's cells drink energy from the sun, his body can perform feats well beyond typical human capacity: superhuman strength, speed, reflexes, durability, energy conversion/storage, solar blasts, flight, and much more.
His powers are null come nightfall, and his cells can only take in so much energy before he must rest for several hours. If he willingly expels any absorbed energy from himself, he drains his power supply at a rapid rate.

[User]
Kaneda looked up and saw that Walter had arrived late, wearing his PT garb instead of his regular uniform. He thought that the captain would discipline him in some way, unfortunately that is the way it was, if you were late you had to deal with the consequences. From what he had heard about the black company they weren't treated the greatest in the first place, for what they had to go through made Kaneda unsettled. It drew feelings of his parents back home in the internment camps even though he knew in his heart that Walter had it much worse than he ever did. And he wanted Walter to know that in this group, that wasn't going to happen.

"Hey Walter, too bad we didn't get to see you at the run today, captain offered a prize for breaking the track record today and I bet you would be the only one that could have matched or beat me out there. We'll have to test that out sometime before we get deployed..." He said issuing the challenge before a thought popped into his head, "better yet, how about this? You and I are done eating here, your powers work with the sun and won't require the energy of this wonderful meal here and neither does mine, let's say you and I go out right now and get that run in, winner is the one that makes it to where we usually meet up outside the barracks. The loser has to deal with the punishment that you might receive if the captain feels so inclined to. The only rule is that you have to touch the base of the mountain on the way up and on the way down. It's a win, win you get the run in, the captain should be somewhat glad that you did it and you also have a chance to get out of toilet cleaning duty if he still wants to punish you. Also, you might not have heard and this is to the rest of you as well but the next chance we have I would like to meet up with everyone who wants to by the light pole closest to our barracks, I like to call it a team building exercise. I know the duo are in but what about the rest of you?" He asked, waiting for his response from the others and from Walter about the challenge, he could only smile as he waited.

[Assistant]
Belasý was torn between approval of Kaneda's character and disgust that a captain would set so biased a goal, and then reward the one to complete it. Did he want to encourage dissent? The supers she'd known as a girl had been fiercely competitive, even while molded into groups that would work well together.

She'd never fit with any of them, and she'd paid for that, as she'd paid for her defiance, as she'd paid for having powers in the first place. It wasn't all that much of a reward, she supposed, but it was addressed like some sort of honor. Sure it was a nice gun, but they were very common in America. It was a symbol, little more, but then what was the point at all?

At least the little pep talk focused on teamwork, and absolute must for any fighting group, but in the end her opinion of the captain was diminished. Her regard for Kaneda did not change apart from the improvement it had already seen when he'd fallen in with Izkry, and she let her gaze focus on the ground. Her brother gave Kaneda a wide grin, openly glad for the man's success. His smile lingered as they marched too the mess hall, fading only upon discovering what the Americans called "spaghetti". He'd not yet had the misfortune to encounter this particular dish.

Sitting next to his sister at one end of a bench, he poked the soggy noodles drenched in the distinctly American condiment with his fork, his expression one of wary incredulity. "I am not thinking this is spaghetti," he said aloud, impressed all over again by what passed for cuisine in this country. Not that the army ate all that well -- he'd been to a proper restaurant a few times, and that was far better, but no self-respecting European would consume such...dubious fare. He'd been surprised the first time afield, as the Swiss army in general ate very well. The bagged and canned meals they'd used from another country were not very good. He'd been shocked at the sad state of the British Army's meals.

The Americans, however, were in a class all their own.

Perhaps this is why they are seen as fat and tasteless, he thought, nudging the worm-like noodles one last time before taking a deep breath and digging it. You just had to do your best not to smell or taste it, that was all. And pray it didn't give you indigestion. He glanced around at the others, noting their expressions. Kaneda's comment got an outright grin. "Yes, I think you are right. Maybe we are fighting Italians, but I do not think they would serve even their enemies such a meal. ...No offense, Frauline Maria." He'd never had anything against her for her ancestry, even as he hoped the rest would forgive him his own. "I think we must find a new word for what they give us here. Even 'food' is generous, yes? Perhaps...Ah! I have it. The mess hall, they serve the ufos." He pronounced the acronym poorly, closer to "oo-foh" than actual letters. Belasý raised an eyebrow at him, and he indicated his meal. "Unbekanntes -- ah, unknown food object," he explained. "Ufo -- that is the correct word, yes?" he asked of the only American at the table, hoping he'd gotten it right.

Bel had no issue eating what she was given, but her irrepressible sibling had truly outdone himself, and she made a noise that fell somewhere between a snort and a muffled laugh. The word fit all too well, she agreed, turning her attention back to her plate. Talk turned to where they they expected to be deployed, and she frowned. They'd yet to complete training. Surely they wouldn't be ordered out early, and risk another disaster.

Then again, command always had issues. It was inevitable.

"Montgomery, he is a commander I would server under gladly," Izkry agreed. "I hear good things of his planning, and his ideas of combining forces, but that he is perhaps even a bit too cautious. I could not say, strategy is not my thing. But he inspires his men, and that is important. Still, we cannot forget Rommel. I hear he is remarkable, versatile...and widely respected. Even by the Italians. Even by those he faces on the field. Do not underestimate him. He will not go easy." He washed another bite down with a drink. At least that tasted alright. "But invading France, as I hear them talking about, there is no way. We have seen what is there, and...Bel, she says trying to land an army there, it would be a massacre. There would need to be some crack already available on that coast, or some complex diversion. And you know what they say about complex plans." The young man sighed. "The Resistance, they are the best hope for France. Supporting them will do more good than anything else."

The mention of being dropped out of a plane behind enemy lines earned Kaneda another smile. "Ah, yes -- they might. That is how it went last time. And it would work for a close team, perhaps, one that could fit in. But we have a Russian, an Italian, a man of faith, a Frenchman, a pair that might pass for German, a Jap, a black man, and another American besides. And the Spaniard. As a group, we do not even fit with each other, and I am not sure how much disguising it would take. That was a problem before -- the lack of fluency, the visible disparity. I hope the ones giving orders think better this time." He rubbed his head with a grimace, and was glad to have the conversation turned to airplanes. Anton's answer would be interesting for sure. Izkry found him amicable, and liked discussing engines with him.

Bel ate the rest of her meal in silence, frowning at Oscar's muttering but keeping her thoughts to herself. She would keep her eye on him. If he tried to betray them she would be ready. But for now she occupied herself with considering the various people that were now her comrades. The Russian woman, she seemed isolated, and it didn't help that she spoke so little English. Bel resolved yet again to try to make an effort to approach her, but she'd yet to follow through very well. The Japanese man and the Frenchman were decent. John was sweet but he was going to get himself in real trouble. He would need to adapt fast or he would die, and they couldn't afford to baby him. Maria too needed to try harder -- and Oscar, while fit, was hopeless. She wondered yet again if they would ever be ready. The newest man -- the black fellow with the scarring and damaged skin -- was too new for her to know well. He was also very quiet, and her gaze lingered on him the longest where he sat almost across from her, her bright eyes watching him from behind the dark locks that hid much of her face from view. If he caught her staring she offered him just the slightest of smiles, barely more than an upward twitch at the corner of her mouth before turning away. The little she'd seen of him had made her decide that he looked much like she felt: someone who'd been forced into a role he never wanted. She'd heard someone say "experimental" regarding him, and that further cemented the image. Bel knew that life far too well.

"Hey now," Izkry protested when Kaneda suggested running again, even if it would hardly be an issue for those two. "I want to see this race. Give me a minute to finish -- I am almost done!"

[User]
"Uh, wha'?" Walter spun his sight to the Japanese man, and then to the one who was spouting something about finishing his food before the run. He hadn't expected to be accepted with such warmth by this ragged group of rejects. But hey, he was a reject himself, they all had to bond together somehow if no one else would have them. Then it clicked for him: the powers. That's why they sent him here, it was 'cause he was one of those supers everybody had been gossiping about. Government brass thought this little thing they had going was a secret--folks chatter faster than documents can be classified, though. He took another look around, not yet addressing Kaneda's challenge; so, this was it? This was the cast of brave men and women who were going to put an end to the Reich and the Fuhrer? They done sent my black behind to the damn gallows. Ain't this somethin'?! He shook his head, more to himself than anyone else, but it unveiled his true feelings about the whole matter. No matter, he had been through much worse. If he was going to last for however long he had to last here, it'd be time for him to make some friends.

"Sho'", Walter stuck his words back at Kaneda.
"I'll race ya." He would smile, but it'd hurt too much.

His head spun to the one switching between different languages, and he made a mental note: that one was crazy. With the challenge accepted and mess seemingly coming to a close, he sat idle once more in customary silence. Until he registered that the German man was probably speaking to him, even though Walter didn't know a tidbit of German or any other foreign language for that matter. It just so happened the German man wasn't even speaking German, Walter just couldn't parse the words behind his accent nor the disjointed English which partnered his speech.

"Uh, naw. I don't know what you're sayin' to me, man. Maybe somebody else do. Oh, wait, you talkin' 'bout those flyin' saucers? Man, I ain't never seen one." He shrugged his shoulders, unsure if he had offended the German or not. He heard stories of the German people's tempers; he heard their tempers were almost worse than the Italians. All of them were crazy in his eyes.

 All he needed to say was said, and all he could do now was wait for the commanding officer to officially bring an end to slop time--he wasn't going to be punished for leaving early. He dreaded what punishment might come from missing PT.


[System]
Age:
32

Height:
5'6"

Weight:
145.3lbs

Previous Occupation:
Medical School Student

Likes:
-Swimming
-Reading
-Helping people
-Animals
-Cooking

Dislikes:
-Feeling useless
-Being patronized
-Being lied to
-Bugs
-Getting lost

Fears:
-Betrayal
-Bugs
-Abandoned

Personality:
Stubborn and ambitious, Kyra is willing to put up with anything to get the job done. She's blunt, harshly so, and won't hesitate to spill the truth even if it means someone will get hurt. More of a doer than a talker, she'd rather jump into whatever task she's on rather than plan it out. Because of this, she can come off as impulsive and hotheaded. Kyra's pride is her downfall, often times getting in the way of what needs to be done. Despite this, she's slowly learning to swallow her hubris and open her mind to the views of others.

Though seemingly aloof, Kyra is actually very caring. She's more concerned about the wellbeing of those around her rather than her own, and will sacrifice much of what she has in order to help another. She's hardworking to a fault and will strive to protect those around her. Despite Kyra seeming serious, she's been known to have a snarky side, layering her words with sarcasm.

History:
Kyra was born in a small town in Nevada to a somewhat poor family of five. Despite their lack of finances, she had a fairly happy childhood. She'd often venture around the neighborhood with her siblings, messing around and sometimes causing trouble, while simultaneously helping out in the family store.
Things grew harder as the business closed down. Kyra and her siblings worked multiple jobs at once to help pay the bills, while her parents argued more and more frequently. With lowering grades in school and the constantly looming threat of bankruptcy, life seemed like utter chaos.

Despite this, however, Kyra found solace. In her few moments of free time, Kyra frequently visited the local children's hospital as a volunteer. She'd help out the nurses and children, eventually becoming somewhat of a regular. It was during those times Kyra knew what she wanted to do.

Eventually, Kyra began to get her life back together. Her grades gradually improved until she was at the top of her class. She studied frequently, working hard towards her aim. She soon graduated Highschool and, eventually, college. She had gotten accepted into a well known medical school in Australia. Her family was closer than it had been before. Everything was finally falling into place.

Kyra booked a plane to Austrailia, flying with her sister towards a brighter future. She would attend medical school and become a renowned doctor, helping not only her family but hundreds of patients along the way. Or so she thought.

But Fate, it seemed, had other plans.

[User]
Kyra Martinez

Fire. She remembered fire. Warped tendrils clawing at the wings of a metal bird. The dancing fingers a hellish myriad of red heat.

And smoke. She remembered the smoke. The clouds of grey choking the air as she had desperately grasped for the dangling piece of plastic hope. False, false hope. The smoke in her hair and eyes and lungs, burrowing deeper til it was as thick and real as the black tangle of fear deep beneath. So much smoke.

And then she remembered. Her. Her, who's face was so full of light and life. Her, who was so familiar and immortal in the mind of one so young and hopeful. Her, with a face twisted with tears and fear of the chaos around them. Her with a face of dancing fire and smoke.

The Big Island
11:05 p.m.

Kyra woke with rocks in her limbs and needles in her throat. A dull ache throbbed beneath her skull, a painful beat on a soundless drum. Her mind was mess of strewn thoughts and scattered memories, all tangled and cut apart like the tatters of a forgotten quilt. Fire. Smoke. Darkness. Different fabrics sewn in a nonsensical order.

Exhaustion whispered for her to return to the nettles of sleep. Necessity demanded Kyra rise and act. In the end, it was the latter who won. With a gasp of pain, Kyra forced herself to sit up. The dull pounding in her skull grew into a raging throb. It spread throughout her body, settling in the insides of her chest. It was as if her bones were knives, slashing at the fleshy prison of her skin. The world spun around her, and a bile rose up in Kyra's throat. She shut her eyes, giving into the upheavals of her stomach. She deposited the remains of her last meal, involuntary tears springing from her eyes. The nonsensical ramblings of her thoughts returned, brought on by the delirious sensation of pain. Was this what dying felt like? No. It couldn't be. Dying was peaceful. This was hell.

With a shaky breath, Kyra forced herself to stand. She swayed, the sharp pain in her chest growing. Everything was hurting. Everything felt wrong. But she had to keep moving. She had to find water. She had to find people. People like her. Kyra trembled, her resolve wavering. Her. Her sister. Oh God, her sister. The beach was empty. The white dunes were bare, save for the scattered debris of twisted, black metal. No live other life than Kyra. She bit back a sob. Where was she? Where was Josefine?! She had to be alive. She couldn't be far. She couldn't...she can't...there was no way...

Kyra swallowed her growing hopelessness. Josefine had to be alive. There had to be more survivors. It couldn't have been just her. Now it was just a matter of finding them and surviving.
6:23 a.m.
Once, when she was eight, Kyra had stayed with a distant relative during Summer. An uncle, perhaps, or maybe a cousin? She never quite knew. He had been a drill Sargent. Retired due to his age, but it seemed like the spirit of the job never left him. He was kind enough, save for his short temper, but the moments he chose to discipline Kyra were the worst moments of her life. She had once made the mistake of talking back. The result was two hours of nonstop running around the house. No walking, no water, no breaks. Only the merciless heat of the red sun, and the sweat running together with the tears as her dry throat gasped for air to fill her shriveling lungs.

It was like that now, only tenfold worse. It was hard to say how long she's been walking. An hour? Five? A whole year? Kyra pressed herself to keep moving. The pain in her chest had grown into a throbbing, dull ache. Her mind spun even more, strained from the lack of water or rest. Her shoes, a pair of heels, had long been abandoned for the sensibility of bare feet. The results remained constant throughout her walk. No life. Just the plain stretch of sand, water, and jungle. Kyra wobbled, the unspoken fears wrestling with sensibility in her mind. What if she was alone? What if everyone was dead? What if? What if? What if?

A sudden noise pierced through the air, cutting through Kyra's train of thoughts. It was too deep for a seabird, too brief to be the wind. It was almost as if it was...
Kyra froze as the shout came again. Human. It was human. An actual human being. She forced her legs to run faster, ignoring the growing blisters on her soles. "H-hey!" Her voice was low and scratchy, strained in her throat. "Hey!" She was louder this time, a frantic desperate hope fueling her calls as she caught sight of an approaching figure in the distance. "I'm over here!"

[Assistant]
---

Bailey Renee Sinclaire
11:45 PM, The Big Island

---

A hangover would have been considered a blessing in exchange for the pressure that pounded in Bailey's head at that moment. Her eyelids felt heavy as the light of the moon lit up the sky, shining on her slightly bruised face and body to match. A sudden motion brought Bailey from her back up to her knees as the burst of vomit escaped her lips into the sand below her. At least the pressure was now gone. "Ugh.." the sound of distaste hung on her lips as she passed out right next to her vomit.

Classy. Super classy.

---

Bailey Renee Sinclaire
8:00 AM, The Big Island

---

Coming to, the sun bright and hot in the sky Bailey opened her eyes slowly and recalled the events that had really taken place. The plane had went down, she had survived. A pang of remorse hit her as she imagined all the people who had died on impact or worse taken by the wrath of the ocean. She sat up slowly, looking around at the area around her. If it were different circumstances she would have found this place beautiful, a vacation in it's own right. However, the circumstances weren't right and all she could do was feel trapped. She didn't know what to do next, her hands falling down to her side she leaned back a bit, placing her right hand directly into the pile of semi dried vomit.

Classy. Super classy.

"Oh.. fuck me." Bailey cursed to herself as she got up and began to walk towards the ocean. Her limbs felt like jelly as she stumbled through the sand. A lot of her body was in pain, and in some places she didn't even know existed. Squatting down she waved her hand in the water gently, feeling somewhat refreshed. Getting back up to her upright position she placed her now cleaned hand on her forehead as a reliever. Turning her hand to it's side to create a visor she peered across inward to the island noticing some movement. Survivors, or did they pose a threat? Perhaps Bailey had watched way too many horror movies in her time as she stood idle waiting to see what the mysterious figure did next.

[User]
Benson O'Hara
7:46 AM, The Big Island

It'd been a while, Benson could tell that. He called, and he called again, and yet he had not received a reply. His voice had grown hoarse, the morning sun had creeped higher into the sky and was staring down on him condescendingly. Whatever was keeping him going had faded, and a pain in his right leg had made itself obvious since he started down the beach. He took another breath, clenched his diaphragm, and shouted: "Hey!"

There was a brief silence. Somehow, Benson felt, that if no one replied, it'd be the end of him. He hoped with all of his hope.

"I'm over here!" @Fubsy

He whirled around and saw a woman sprinting towards him.

"Son of a bitch!" He jogged towards the other survivor and stopped in front of her. He tried to think of something to say. Honestly, nothing really seemed appropriate. He was so relieved that whatever happened next, there was at least one other human being here with him.

What he ended up doing was shrugging his arms out wide, and letting his hands slap back down against his thighs. A gesture of indecision and gratitude.

[Assistant]
Jaxon Nyle Romero

8:07 AM, The Big Island

Jaxon's throat was dry and he needed water, but as far as he could see there was no fresh water, so he continued walking towards the figure lying in the sand ahead. As he neared the figure he approached ever more slowly. As he neared he could see it was a girl. His hand gripped the stick tighter as he sat behind a nearby rock. His free shaking hand picked up a small pebble and tossed it at the woman in the sand. He cleared his throat and began to speak.

"Are you from the plane crash as well?" He tried peeking from behind the rock, seeing if he recognized the woman, but he didn't. He tried to remember the events that took place before he first woke up, but most of it was blurry and he couldn't make anyone's face out. His hand was sweating now and he tried to peek out from behind the rock once more. He shifted his position behind the rock to see if he could get a better angle at which to look at but it was futile, he still couldn't recognize her face, her clothing, her skin color, nothing. He took his position back behind the rock and waited for a response. He could feel his heart pounding more violently in his chest.

This could be another survivor.

[User]
Nona Wembley
The Big Island

Nona thought she heard a slight movement across the sand but shrugged it off as a seagull trying to find a tasty snack. It was probably what she should be doing,not the food part but the scavenging for sure. She was about ready to leave when she heard something plop into the sand next to her. Her eyes slowly opened before she slowly pushed up on her elbows and forced herself to grit her teeth so as to ignore the pain in her shoulder as she did. She leaned to the side slightly to pick up the object that was buried a bit into the sand. She was about to play with the small pebble between her fingers until she heard a throat clearing. Nona felt a flood of relief just a moment before stiffening, her heart racing as she swiftly sat up the rest of the way glance around and find who was near her.

She was hopeful that it was another survivor but at the same time, they didn't come up and directly talk to her either. It felt completely stupid to be thinking of one of those old island survival movies at a time like this since Nona highly doubted native cannibals were lurking about but she was only human after all and her mind was getting away from her in that short time it took for the other person in the area to speak.
"Are you from the plane crash as well?

Nona couldn't help the small smirk that appeared on her features before she replied with a tease,"Well I'm no native, that is for sure."
That being said, she carefully stood and tried to get her barrings as a wave of dizziness hit her but she was determined to stay up right."You aren't going to stay hidden behind that rock all day, are you? I promise I don't bite and to be honest...feels a little...weird chatting to someone I can't even see."

[Assistant]
Kyra MartinezThe Big Island

---

---

Kyra slowed as she reached the man, her breath coming out in short, ragged gasps. The sun's rays seemed to have doubled their effort until the sand was a stovetop that steered into the soles of her bare feet. Her lungs and legs burned, and the pain in her chest seemed to double with every effort to breathe. Despite this, cool relief flooded through her at the thought of not being alone.

"Holy..." Kyra trailed off, both from loss of breath and sheer astonishment. She took in the man's haggard appearance and for a brief moment, a flash of vanity invaded her mind. Was that how she looked? It wouldn't have surprised her, looking like a mess with her bare feet and tangled her. Her appearance probably matched how she felt--like complete, utter shit.

"Is there," she paused to catch her breath. Her eyes flitted over the man's shoulder, eyeing the empty beach as if more people would pop up from the bare sand. "Is it just you? Are there any other survivors?"


[System]
Nickname: Amy

Gender/Age: Female, 21
Gamer Title: Raptor20025
Chosen Game Mastery: Xenoblade Chronicles
Game Master Abilities:
Passive Abilities:
What's an aimbot?: This simply refers to a passive effect that allows Amethyst to have better accuracy when using projectile weapons. Thus, she can be seen as an amazing and accurate shot.

So Magic Does Exist: Amethyst has a connection to healing magic, though in a rather bizarre way. This will be covered in the Active Ability: By My Flesh and Blood be Healed.

Appearance's Matter: Based upon what weapon Amethyst can summon, from her bow to her rifle, her game master appearance changes to better suit that weapon. Purely cosmetic.

Active Abilities:
Summon Weapon: Summons Amethyst's weapon, to which in Amethyst's case revolves around keeping her distance with some sort of ranged weapon. Primarily, it is a sniper, but when technology such as it doesn't exists, it devolves into a bow. However, if needed, she can summon a weapon that another xenoblade chronicles character has: excluding the monado.

By My Flesh and Blood be Healed!: Amethyst resonates with the magic dwelling inside her, giving her the ability to transform her projectiles into healing ones that upon impact heal instead of hurt, absorbing into the body. This, however, comes at the cost that she herself must bear the pain that was recently healed for a brief moment. It may not come immediately, but it always comes.

I Won't Let Us Fall!: A deep powerful magic resonates within Amethyst, sacrificing her remaining energy and converting it all into a powerful magic projectile that she shoots into the air, exploding into a powerful healing mist that, well, heals the party significantly. However, it is a last resort type ability, as Amethyst is knocked unconscious for the remainder of the fight.

Background: Amethyst was born into a military family, being the last child and thus the youngest. Her father, while caring, was constantly being sent away for months on end, leaving her mother to solely take care of the children. And while the older ones missed their father, Amethyst grew up used to his continuous absence. Instead, she remembers finding another way to pass the time and forget that her father had to keep leaving occasionally. When he was around, she often sat on his lap, watching him play all sorts of various games and learning from it as well. While the other children played outside, Amethyst instead could be found by some sort of gaming technology, attempting to figure out how to play properly alone.

As time went on, so did the availability of various gaming consoles and genres. From computer gaming, Nintendo's Gamecube and Game Boy Color, the Xbox, along with older consoles, there was never a dull moment in Amethyst's life. She could often, if almost assured, around some piece of technology. She'd play Pokemon Crystal Version to Alien vs. Predator, and nearly anything in-between. The joy of playing Sonic the Hedgehog, the action of Battlefield 2142… All shaping her into a rather calm and sensible individual who thinks tactically and with her mind more than her heart.

Other: Sonic the Hedgehog 2 on the Sega Genesis. Tis a gem that Amethyst remembers playing fondly when she was younger. Which seeing as she somehow managed to get to the final boss so young, before kindergarten, was in and of itself an achievement.

[User]
"I can't see anything around us. This is insane" David said "I guess we should try to figure out where the hell we are and how we're gonna get back home. Someone pick a direction"

Silence.

"Yeah... me too guys" David fell back to the floor, defeated. After a few more minutes of relative silence and hopeless staring out into the abyss, David's head perked up, thinking he had just seen something sparkle in the distance.
"Anyone else see that?" he said as he jumped to his feet. He waved his arms frantically and began to shout "HEY! OVER HERE! HELP US!"

It sparkled again, slightly brighter than before, more noticeable. David kept waving his arms and crying for help. Some of the others joined in as well, until finally, their savior came into view. It appeared to be simply a bundle of pixellated light, floating in the darkness. It silently floated into their midst and rotated around, seemingly scanning the lifeforms around it. The light around began flashing as it began to speak, sounding remarkably like a calm C-3PO
"Hello there. I see you all arrived safely. I can sense your confusion, so please allow me a moment to explain. I am Program Directory 348009- Navigation and Caretaking. For simplicity, you can call me Navi, if you wish. Apologies for this whole event, but once I explain, I hope you all understand that I had no choice. This is The Mainframe, or at least, an unused section of it. The Mainframe. Allow me a moment to convert what I have to say into terms you will all understand."

Navi let out some robotic beeps as it processed. then it continued "While we have no remaining records on the full history of it, we know that The Mainframe has existed at least since the zenith of your world's technological boom. Think of it as a nexus point, upon which your internet was based, and it is under a grave threat, that I believe only you can stop. It began with a corrupted data file, infecting Default State Programs, which acted as the 'worker bees' of the proverbial colony here. They morphed into something akin to a virus, and began to attack the various systems of The Mainframe. The only area they were unable to conquer is the Datacore, The central processing unit of the entire system. If they were to reach that, they would have access to everything networked to The Mainframe. I fear they would able to use that access to destroy both our worlds. So I locked myself out and enacted a security measure. Using data from these 'video games' that your people adore, I have constructed a gauntlet of challenges to slow the Default's progress. They cannot adapt as quickly as organic beings. Even through their preferred method of hacking and infecting other AI constructs throughout the game worlds, they are limited by their programming. That is where you come in. If you were to enter these worlds and complete the challenges within before the Default, you would gain the key constructs necessary to access the Datacore, you could then use its power to delete the virus and return home"

"This is crazy" David said "I don't know why we were chosen, I don't know if we can do this, hell, I don't even know if this is real, but if this is the only way for to get home, I think we should do it"

He turned to his friends to see their response "What do you say guys? I did promise you all an epic week of gaming.... I mean yeah, this is not exactly the fun-filled relaxing time I imagined, but pretty close second right?"

"Excellent" Navi exclaimed "Please allow me to properly arm you for the challenges ahead"
At those words a band of light appeared around each of them. When it faded, they saw that a device had appeared on one of their arms, it resembled an old NES Power Glove, with way less buttons. Before any of them could comment a door began rising from the abyss in front of them, a wall constructing itself around it as it went. Above the massive door, in big block lettering, the words PRESS START

"The device you have will prove to be an invaluable tool. It will allow you to properly equip yourselves for the challenges ahead. A quick analysis of your online records show that each of you have a particular video game you have shown mastery in. By pressing the large red button in the center of the control board, you will be equipped with armor and abilities from those games. The buttons surrounding it will allow you all to access those abilities, and the blue button will bring up a holographic readout of the games you will face as well as any other information I can offer"

David took the lead, tapping the indicated button on his power glove. A brilliant flash of white light surrounded him, and when it cleared he was outfitted in the armor of a COG Gear.
"Ok Navi, this is pretty cool. As long as you don't start screaming HEY LISTEN, we're all good" David joked.

"Scanning. I have located the source and appreciate the humor. Please proceed to the door ahead"

[Assistant]
"Navi?!" Will stepped forward to appraise the weird digital construct."Yeah, no. How about PDANAK? Or, like, Padonk. Heh. Podonok. Hehehehe..." He paused to appreciate his impressive wit that allowed him to use a new russian curse word he learned online just last week.

But the door quickly soured his mood. He lunged in its direction and pulled on David's shoulder. "Look, uh, look man..." He was taken aback by David's sudden intimidating appearance. Was it even David anymore? "Um, this is obviously a trap, and I planned a single all-nighter for this. Why the hell are you cooperating?"

[User] Alirron followed along with this 'Navi's explanation, albeit somewhat warily. Their apparent recruition with a description of events that were hypothetically possible, but it seemed somewhat suspicious. After all this Navi was their only source of information, thus it was impossible to tell whether it was lying or not. In addition he found it odd that Navi found their information in game of choice online, given that his favorite brand at least, was entirely offline. Perhaps all games were connected to this mainframe of which it spoke. On the other hand, his options consisted of A) Going through the door and figuring it out from there or B) Waiting here and hoping something else happened. Option B would be really stupid. Aliron somewhat skeptically pressed said large red button and was greeted with an alarming sudden shift in his attire. In addition to the green clothes that, fittingly enough, were at the start of any Zelda game, he also came complete with a wooden shield and a master sword replica. Along with this came a somewhat disconcerting mental shift as he felt new knowledge flood into his brain for a moment. Aliron shook his head and placed both his sword and shield on his back in the typical idle stance of Link. "While you may have a point, we have little other option. Unless you wish to continue wandering in this barren digital land or waiting and hoping something else happens, we must take Navi up on her offer, at least for now." Aliron then stepped next to David and looked back at the rest of the group expectantly.

[Assistant]
Alex Hill

---

---

 Alex didn't know if they were dreaming or if this was real.All he knew was that as long as he was here with his friends he would push through it no matter what. He had to keep his mind focused and think logically. If what this 'Navi' said was true then they didn't have time to act like scared little kids, and hey it seemed like it'd be fun to play the games like this. At least there shouldn't be lag. Hopefully.

 After both David and Alirron showed there wasn't any immediate danger from pressing the start button, Alex stood and and said, "I'm not so sure it is a trap. I mean, what purpose would this Navi have for kidnapping us just to have us trigger some sort of trap. Sure maybe the things we would be fighting against might be working for Navi here, but come on playing the games we all love as the actual characters doesn't appeal to you at all. I for one can't wait to see what kind of experience lies beyond that door. Any gamer should want to jump at the chance to literally be the character from a video game. Not just holding the controller that moves them around. And Willie if it is a trap I'll pay you $50 bucks. Will that get you to participate?"

 With that Alex hit the button just like David and Alirron had. A bright light soon shined around Alex and when the light dispersed his clothes were now tattered and old looking. Also in place of his shorts were jeans. "Well. I definitely do not look as cool as David and Alirron right now."

[User]
Sam was a bit scared. This whole situation seemed to be forced onto them. However, as he and his friends finished listening to what 'Navi' had to say, and his friends tried to reassure them there was nothing to be afraid of and it was actually quiet fun, he started to follow their lead, but hesitated before putting the glove on. However, when he saw his friends put on the their new gear, he got excited. At was no secret his favourite game was Assassin's Creed, and when he pushed the button, the light overwhelmed him.

When the light dimmed though, He felt himself lighter and at the same time sturdier. He also saw himself with a hood on, and looked down to see himself have one of Edward Kenway's customes, more specificly a fully upgraded Pirate Captain outfit. It looked well on him, and he loved the way he felt. He slowly looked around clockwise, arms wide, showing off his custome to the others. "This is amazing!" He said, the being so happy he jumped in the air and automaticly did a backflip. "WOW! What was that?!" He asked, normally not being that light or agile.

[Assistant]
The small amount of silence before some sort of pixelated arrived was rather nice in the eyes of Amethyst. After all, seeing as a majority of them weren't panicking, it allowed her to try to analyze the situation a bit more. Granted there wasn't much to analyze, but a good sniper knew to survey the surroundings and always be alert on the off chance something would happen. That something was a light in the distance that a majority of the others called out towards, but not her. She was simply watching as it approached, not entirely sure if that was the best course of action of everyone to take, but fortunately as the light began to speak, it seemed to not be hostile.

And while that was a relief, She still was relatively on the unsure side, even if a majority of the others weren't. And while she wanted to voice her opinion on the matter and somewhat side with William, she instead decided she would instead observe what happened to the others. One of them now looked like Link from the Legend of Zelda, and she found that somewhat fitting for him. He did like that series a lot... In fact, the more she watched as the others started to press the start button, the more they took on appearances or something fitting from a game that they were seen as the best at. That made her question what her own appearance and overall style would be... She was often either the healer or sniper in a majority of her games, and that went rather well when playing Xenoblade Chronicles with the character Sharla...

And since there was no immediate harm, she too pressed the button, her rather casual outfit replaced in a ray of light with what looked like light armor, a blue cape, and even a beret to match. She looked like some sort of military official, and her only concerned that was raised from the fact that they were going to go into a video game world was, well, did that mean they could die?