[System]
Death Korp Trooper Number:
Trooper 17431

Appearance:

Height:
5'6"

Age:
27

Sex:
Male

Class:
Death Korp Grenadier

Equipment:
- Type XIV Lasgun (Heavy) -
Also known as a Hellgun or, more rarely, a Hotshot lasgun, the Type XIV (Heavy) is the standard issue weapon for all Grenadiers serving in Death Korp regiments. They are, at least by the Grenadiers themselves, intensely disliked due to perceived unreliability in the field during extended operations and a Krieger's general preference for the default Type XIV Lasgun (More commonly known outside of Krieg as the Lucian Pattern Lasgun). However, with the proper maintence that each Grenadier performs routinely, the weapon performs its intended role as a high power Lasgun, capable of punching through heavier armor and providing, on full auto, a withering rate of fire. The Type XIV (Heavy) utilizes a backpack unit to power it, and a Quick Recharge Generator included in the backpack unit is generally overtaxed, due to the design of the weapon and its power output. Ansgar, like many Grenadiers, would have preferred a Type XIV Lasgun over the Heavy variant, but as a Grenadier, he is required to carry it.

- Grenadier Carapace Armor -
Intended for deployment where the fighting is fiercest, Death Korps Grenadiers are equipped with heavy Carapace Armour that has been integrated into the standard Krieg kit. This comprises the Mark IX helmet, a rebreather facemask, three-piece shoulder guards, a chest plate with additional abdomen plates and shin and knee guards. All are made of Plasteel and reinforced with a layer of Ceramite for additional strength, heat resistance and weight reduction. The armor, coupled with uniform and Type XIV Lasgun (Heavy) makes a very heavy loadout, adding in the miscellaneous equipment they carry as well, however, the protection is vastly appreciated by the Grenadiers in general, due to their role as the leading edge in storming trenches and hostile emplacements, needing the protection to get close enough to do their jobs, not so much concerned with survival.

- Explosives -
As his former squads Demolitions expert, Ansgar carried the standard explosives load out alongside extra tools, for when the Engineers could not keep up with the assault but were preoccupied elsewhere. Besides several Frag and Krak grenades, Ansgar also has several demolition charges, rated for taking out hardened bunkers when put in place. Ansgar modified the charges so that, in a hurry, he can pull a detonation cable and heave the charge at a target, the normally delicate and precise procedure for arming the charges ditched in favor of emergency target removal. And, as a Krieg Engineer before he was assigned as a Grenadier, he has learned to build improvised explosives that served him well in the trenches when supplies on conventional explosives were running short, as well as utilize Chemical weapons safely.

- Melee Gear -
Ansgar carries two weapons for melee combat, one obligatory and the other actually used. The obligatory is his bayonet, which the Type XIV Lasgun (Heavy) lacks a mount for, another reason it remains unpopular among Grenadiers, and typically serves as much as a tool and last resort weapon than anything else. His actual go to is a Entrenching Tool, edges sharpened to allow him to carve through hostiles as well as bludgeon them, and retain the intended purpose of digging trenches and other necessary fighting positions.

Notable Deeds:
- Tyranid Assault on Thresis IV -
Raised from birth to be a Death Korp Engineer, Ansgar Staudinger, or known by his Trooper designation 17431, will never state when he was sent to war, something that tends to bother people who ask that are outsiders to Krieg and their necessary methods of providing the Imperium the soldiers it needs. Assigned fresh to an Engineering Platoon, Ansgar would spend a great deal of time digging trenches and laying mines in the defense of a Shrine World, Thresis IV, directly in the path of a Tyranid Hive Fleet Splinter. The Tyranids, despite being vastly reduced in numbers compared to a true Hive Fleet, descended like mad locusts, slaughtering over 90% of the Death Korp forces deployed on the planet. Of that 10%, Ansgar Staudinger was one of the survivors, the only from his platoon, found near death after turning an entire trench line into a raging biochemical inferno, equal parts fire and chemical weapon that was effective on the Tyranids. Sharing the compound make up with other Death Korp Engineers, the biochemical fire was used to great extent to halt and drive back the Tyranids, making the then rookie Staudinger's trial by fire a literal, and resounding, success.

- Nightmares Beneath Thrasis II -
As part of the Thrasis campaign his regiment was assigned to, and the arrival of Tyranid complicating greatly, Ansgar Staudinger was deployed with a fresh Engineering platoon to assist in the breaking of a siege on Chaos held factories on the system's forge world, Thrasis II. Utilizing conventional tunneling and, when they detected they were almost at the entry point, Hades Breaching Drill, to punch into the Chaos held Foundry, Ansgar and his fellow Guardsmen stumbled into something straight out of the most feverish of a heretic's nightmares. The Warp had bled over into the belly of the foundry, with daemons and mutants in equal measures assaulting the woefully unprepared Krieg Guardsmen. However, they had a job to do, and they were able to hold their ground, keeping a secure tunnel long enough for support to arrive and push deep enough into the Chaos corrupted foundry, to the dark heart and plant enough explosives for the resulting explosion spotted from orbit. Whether it was the sheer amount of explosives put in place, or partially due to Chaos corruption was never decided. However, as one of the only survivors again by virtue of Luck or being Blessed, Ansgar was reassigned by a surviving Commissar to the Death Korp Grenadiers.

- Hellscape of Thrasis I -
Nearing the end of the Thrasis System Campaign, Ansgar found himself a freshly minted Grenadier, no longer an Engineer although he often worked closely with them during breaching actions against enemy defensive lines. However, upon touching down on Thrasis I, the Kriegers found something unlike anything anyone could be prepared for. The Foundry was merely a foretaste of what was to come, as planet spanning rituals had allowed the Warp to taint and corrupt great stretches of the planet, forcing Guard forces to struggle through conventional defenses one day, and make a mad dash through Daemon infested hellscapes that should not be the next. What Ansgar refuses to mention to a soul, due to an oath he was put under at the end of the conflict, was the arrival of Grey Knights, of the Emperor's most holy Ordos Malleus. Alongside Adeptus Sororitas support, which Ansgar learned to have a deep, healthy respect for, the combined arms forces stormed the capital of Thrasis I, a den of pure evil and corruption that made the rest of the planet look like a Shrine World in comparison. Once again, whether by luck or the Emperor's own intervention, Ansgar found himself as one of the only Grenadiers, and Krieger's period, to survive the assaults into the city, arriving at the Hall of Governing as it had been christened during Thrasis I's founding as a colony, only to find horrors so unspeakable even the Krieg born Grenadier refuses to speak of them now. But, between the Grey Knights and Sisters of Battle alongside his own humble contributions at that point, which mostly consisted of survival, Ansgar lived to see the end of the hellish campaign on Thrasis I. With literally no regiment to return to, and having become aware of the most secretive of Space Marine chapters, it was decided to induct him into the Inquisition, sending him to serve where needed most.

[User]
"No."

There was a visible frown on Adrianne's face as she crossed her arms and sat back in the co pilot seat, clearly not pleased with the situation as she added.

"If you ever need me to save the ship, I'll be available." She added with a deceptively casual tone whilst staring straight ahead and simply waiting out the journey, as if she had just been personally offended!

"Cursed yes-sayer of the Adeptus Ministorum! She clearly has no faith in me just because of my supernatural abilities! I could have flown this thing no problem! I almost wish a missile would hit anytime soon just so I could step in... "

As they arrived later and were shown to the Rhino, Adrianne couldn't help but frown yet again as she saw another vehicle whom - of course - she did not get to drive, as she had to be the passenger... yet again.
At this point, she was not sure what was worse; the heresy on this planet, or the brain-killing boredom of just sitting on her butt as they went traveling.

As she stepped into the heavily armored Rhino, followed by her ever-vigilant servitor whom came trundling along behind her, Adrianne cast a glance around at the vehicle as she commented to Vala.

"I wonder who's party we are ruining today." She added with a mischievous smirk as she motioned towards the heavily armored vehicle with her eyes. Stepping inside, she found to no surprise that the Krieger had already found the Storm Bolter gunnery seat.

"Talk about living up to stereotypes."

"It's good we have a Krieger behind a Mark XI Hellrain Storm Bolter." Adrianne commented approvingly as she found one of the seats and started working with the belt buckle. Turning to Vala, she gave her a funny smile.

"If the Arbites had gotten behind that thing, I fear we'd end up exterminating every lower middle class or below from here all the way along the path to our destination."

[Assistant]
Herold kept himself quiet for the most part. A grim faced sentinel with weapons at the ready. He admitted he was surprised at how casual everyone was acting, save the Sororitas up front. His question to her was that why they would invite him here if he was not to speak and guide them? He gave a shrug to himself, and a quiet grunt. It was not his place to question the Inquisition or the Inquisition's choices. He would simply be along for the ride.

The hissing of the vehicle was a signal for them to get out, and he stepped out onto pad C-21. He surveyed the area, realizing at once where they were. He should have suspected they would be using one of the Sororitas vehicles, and his suspicions were confirmed when they stepped onto the Elevator that led downwards to the land vehicle bay.

Adrianne's servitor nearly bumped into him, but he didn't flinch or make way. He simply stepped as he would, making his way in. "If the Arbites had gotten behind that thing, I fear we'd end up exterminating every lower middle class or below from here all the way along the path to our destination." That made him turn to look at the unnaturally tall and pale woman.

He felt something off about her. He had not survived this long without a certain sixth sense. He could have given a witty retort back, but he decided now was not the time. "This world's citizens are relatively civil and uncorrupted," he replied, settling himself down once more in the Rhino. He'd ridden in one before on Dalheim. "Then again, that means about half of them are questionable in their duties to the Imperium."

[User]
Ansgar was going over the storm bolter when he caught the comment by the one psyker that it was good to have a Krieger behind the weapon. She rattled off the model as well, which was a bonus point for her regard. Ansgar, being a former Engineer, had to know most weapon platforms he might come across, at least well enough to operate them, and while the storm bolter was not a normal weapon for Guard to encounter, he knew of them well enough to operate it. However, Siege Regiments like his own preferred heavy stubbers, cheaper and more plentiful, as well as more easily replaced and reliable in most conditions, than a storm bolter. He commented idly on the matter, a rare thing, but talking weapons was a natural thing for the Krieger. "Prefer the heavy stubber personally, ma'am. Storm Bolters are nice when available, but jamming and rarity, both of parts and ammo, gives them their issues. Most folk tend to turn the nose at a heavy stubber, but short of Terminators, even a Marine can be put down with a well placed round to a weak point in the power armor." It was a common thing that people not familiar with Death Korp tactics, or most Guard tactics in general, might be unaware of, but there was standard methods of handling Power Armored forces, which came to mind as he considered the storm bolter in his hands.

Typically, anti tank weapons were authorized for Marine targets, should they not be otherwise engaged with actual vehicles. He'd seen Traitors take a krak missile to the chest, which had blown them open rather neatly. Of course, landing a krak missile on a mobile target like that wasn't the easiest thing in the world, so secondary methods included ordinance, both vehicular and man portable, alongside sheer volume of fire. Lasguns took a great deal of time to burn through the power armor, while heavy stubbers took a lucky, or well placed, shot to pierce the weak points on the armor. But, Emperor be praised, volume of fire was often available to the Krieg born Death Korp regiments. Specialists with plasma guns, various launchers, even heavy flamers seemed to slow Marine targets at times, doubly so if they had gaps opened in their armor from previous attacks. Pouring burning promethium into one of those suits tended to cause the wearer some modicum of panic. Casualties were, however, always high when engaging traitor Marines. But even a dozen, or more, guardsmen were more than worth the cost to bring down a traitor Marine.

Ansgar had gone into a sort of auto pilot sweep of the surroundings when the Arbites opening his mouth again brought his focus back, the man commenting on the relatively civil, uncorrupt nature of the world's citizens. Ansgar was forcefully reminded of Krieg and her past, and he made a comment, one that carried a fair deal of weight behind it, aimed at the Arbites trooper more so than any of the others in the vehicle. "The most unassuming of worlds can burst into bitter civil war without warning. Any man or woman of Krieg knows this, and we continue to pay for the sins of our fathers to this day." There was not a single Krieger that did not know the great sin that was committed by many of their ancestors, when they rebelled against the Emperor. The loyalty of one hive, one hive that rained nuclear fire down upon the world, and the following purge of the traitors, was tales taught to each Krieger growing up, before they marched to war. As such, while many might look down upon the Arbites, they had a very clear purpose, so long as they remain true to said purpose. Whether that was indeed the case for this one, or not, well, that remained to be seen.


[System]
Nicknames/Aliases: N/A

Age: 18

Gender Female

Gifts: Mind Manipulation

Loyalty: Wanderer

Description: For the most part, Dawn isn't the most physically formidable person, clocking in at 4'9" and with a slim, feminine figure- although life in the wasteland has seen her build up a decent amount of muscle over the years. In addition, she's quite pale, with grey eyes and thick black hair that falls to her hips- although, due to the length of the latter, she will often keep it pinned out of the way in a neat side-plait.

While Dawn isn't overly picky about her choice of attire, she often dons jeans, long-sleeved shirts, boots, and a wide-brimmed hat. During dust storms, she'll put on a pair of goggles that she saves specifically for the occasion, and in colder seasons, she'll wear a dark grey jacket over her usual outfit. Tends to fidget.

Personality: By nature, Dawn is a gentle soul, trying to resolve most conflicts without resorting to outright violence. While the Wasteland has beaten caution into her when dealing with strangers, she's polite enough, and, around those close to her, she grows maternal and protective. For all her amiable nature, however, she has a tendency to be vengeful, and will keep grudges close upon being wronged.

Skills: Dawn possesses impressive skill in regards to her mental manipulation Gift, largely due to the amount of raw power under her control- although somewhat tentative training has helped with this, as well. Her abilities range from basic telepathy to the control of one's body, although to do the latter requires extreme concentration on her part. While several of her powers are broader, they require her to focus on the individual instead of the group.

Asides from her Gift based abilities, Dawn is also somewhat diplomatic, although that particular skill has been given little use as of late. She is intelligent as well, and through practice, has developed some skill in reading others' emotions without relying on her power.

Can shoot a gun, and carries a small handgun on her person, although she's hardly a star shooter.

Weaknesses: Given the fact that she relies more on flight and her Gift in a confrontation, Dawn is physically weak and can be overtaken easily without her ability. She has a crippling fear of fire as well, and will lock up when near larger flames.

Brief History: Dawn's earlier years were spent living with her parents and brother in a peaceful community developing within the Ashland. While hardly impressive, it was a simple enough lifestyle, and with the Gifts of the residents, the town's residents lived comfortably. Their prosperity did not go unnoticed, however, and they were eventually stormed by a pack of raiders. Dawn's parents were killed in the blaze that followed, and she was left to wander the wastes in their absence.

[User]
Lyonel Eisen@thewizardguy @ScoundrelQueen @VitoftheVoid

Perhaps in hindsight working with Norrevinter was a poor choice, their own powers would serve to clash against one another in conjunction, obviously ice has always been ill-suited with fire. Though this would not deter him from aiding his fellow Knight, walking away from this fight wasn't an option. He would need to keep his wits about him when using his powers over the cold, a creative approach will be needed for this case.

The battle had quickly escalated before his eyes and Lyonel had learned to be cautious of both friend and foe, Norrevinter had began to slip into her berserk state and the skull-masked man displayed an unique, dangerous power with the use of his hands. The latter was enshrouded by a cloud of yellow fog rather hastily after creating a crevice that threatened to swallow up the Viking. Recognising that the Viking is more than capable of handling herself, even with the injuries she had already accumulated so far, he decides to focus on taking down the mercenary as he sheathes his drawn sword.

Water vapour in the air is now more than ample with the jet streams of water from before having been evaporated after colliding with an intense heat wave. The Knight is now more than capable of letting loose with a icy blizzard of his own, first he would slam his two hands onto the ground before freezing it solid, the frozen earth would snake its way up to the area shrouded by the yellow fog and would lock anyone in place as they would find their legs encased in solid ice. Without any pause to possibly waste this chance he would manifest a barrage of long, sharp, icy shards into the fog, before following up with dropping a huge pillar of ice suspended directly over the area, that used up a considerable chunk of the surrounding moisture to create, straight onto wherever the mercenary was hidden.

[Assistant]
'Curiosity killed the cat' was what the winged boy wanted to say in response to Dawn's rather reckless decision, but decided against it. Of course, Dawn would likely still hear this comment against his wishes, but at the very least he figured she had learned to appreciate when people decided to keep comments to themselves.

His silver gaze trailed over to Lucas and lingered for a moment, looking him up and down as if trying to gauge if he passed some imaginary checklist. There was a bit of hesitation, Drake's undying caution remaining as persistent as ever. He did find Lucas' emphasis of the word 'friend' a bit odd, but had decided not to comment.

"Drake," he introduced finally, his tone carefully firm, "As I'm sure you've pieced together by now. Nice meeting you… Lucas."

He wasn't exactly sure how trustworthy a "trading partner" was, but much like Dawn, Drake also had his own curious side. And seeing how he still had two more water bottles in his bag, he opted to stick around and find out what this new person had to offer.

[User]
@thewizardguy@TechnoWizROK

The Knight slipped out from underneath Orion before the grenade's heat had even dissipated, and was running back toward the active combat before he could even think to yell, "That's a really stupid idea, lady."

Not that she would have listened.

A thick, yellow cloud was forming. A crag and a wall varied the landscape. The second Knight seemed to have show up to the fight, and was spreading ice across the ground to take out the intrusive merc. In combination, it seemed that the other three parties had their hands full enough, and the injured Knight had someone to help take her home. A trained, bonafide member of the Erubescan armed forces, no less.

Which left Orion's conscience clear.

He took one more glance over his shoulder at the scene of chaos, brushed his hand against the earth and Ash, and shifted into something far less easy to spot against his surroundings. Looking like a rather large, man-shaped boulder, he took off a at brisk walk in the opposite direction of the confusion. He kept a lookout for anyone following, his thumb cautiously checking to be sure that the tungsten carbide ring was still affixed around his finger should someone pursue.

[Assistant]
Kora, steam billowing off her shoulders and blood streaming down her face, barrelled forwards at a charge. The leg of her uniform on the injured side was soaked in blood and leaving spotty trail behind her, but she seemed to be shrugging it off like it was nothing. Clearing the widening void between them would not have been a problem. She sprang towards the yellow smokescreen, feet thudding into the dirt on the other side and into a continued run... for the two steps it took until she hit ice. An eruption of steam turned it to water, and also threw the knight's feet from underneath her.

She fell back and tumbled into the crevasse, bouncing several times off the rocky walls before hitting the ground with some force.

The berserker's mind was going at miles a minute. It took her a few moments, kneeling on her shattered knee at the bottom of a deep hole, to realize what had just happened, and what it meant.

There was another gifted.

Someone was-

"STEALING MY KILL!" her roar echoed across the waste.

[User]
@ScoundrelQueen@VitoftheVoid

It was a good thing this guy used ice. Something like metal control might have been hard to spot, but the coldness of ice made it easy to see in the infrared spectrum. As such, Alex wasn't caught off guard when the ground began to freeze beneath his feet. A dangerous power, ice control, and hard to avoid. However, the Hands of Fate were more than a match. Reaching down Alex simply removed the frozen ground around him before the ice could affect him. Using his left hand of 'destruction', he could remove any obstacle in his path. When a series of icy shards were launched into the fog at random he was able to see them coming, and slapped them out of the air with his left hand. As each of them came into contact with his hand he simply drew them into his pocket dimension, absorbing every attack even as it occurred. An attack like that, with little to no aim, had no chance of taking him out.

Of course, that's when the pillar appeared. Gathering and freezing the moisture in the air, it seems the swordsman had created something rather large. So if Alex himself couldn't be seen, they'd just attack the entire area? Not a bad strategy, but was it really a good idea to spend so much energy when you don't know what your opponent's ability is? It seemed they were still underestimating him. With his left hand of Destruction Alex reached out, and carved a hole through the middle of the pillar. All it took was a touch.

The berserker's bloodcurling scream echoed across the area from outside. If nothing else, it was probably that lady's crazy scary shouting that had prevented anyone else from interfering with this match. It wasn't a voice that encouraged interference. However, neither of the Knights had realised the true nature of Alex's power, the power to Give and Take. Because this power could turn the opponent's abilities against themselves, the tools of the enemy were just another aspect of the environment. This power, second only to his brothers', would end this battle right now.

With his left hand, Alex cracked the pillar that surrounded him. Not enough to cause it to collapse, and yet the fissures formed a very specific pattern. Leaning his right hand against one of the cracks, Alex unleashed wind. Every crack was filled with compressed air, pushing outwards and shattering the pillar as a whole. A ball of air rapidly expanded outwards, and with a crack like thunder the entire pillar shattered. Hundreds of razor-sharp shards of ice exploded out, raining across the surrounding landscape. Alex had carefully crafted the ice into blades, which now scoured the surrounding landscape. Anything that stood near the explosion would have been ripped to bloody shreds, and even the swordsman wasn't safe from this attack.

Of course, Alex didn't expect something like that to be enough. But it was enough to cover him, for a moment.

Dashing forward Alex emerged from the cloud of gas, both hands at the ready as the large icy splinters he had previously absorbed now launched themselves towards the swordsman Knight at high speeds. A blast of air from the 'hand of Creation' launched him forwards at high speeds, allowing him to accelerate far faster than a normal person. It was a trick he'd used many times before. Closing the distance he stretched out the Left Hand of Destruction. With a single touch he could annihilate this opponent, as well as this hand blocking nearly any incoming attack. The ultimate shield and the ultimate spear. And the Berserker, who was most likely still intent on killing him, would follow him soon enough. The cold ice he absorbed from this guy would be excellent for fighting that hothead.

Beneath his mask, Alex was smiling. Fighting two Knights at once? This was going to be FUN.

[Assistant]
Orion registered the bang, and shifted out of his camouflage into his former alloy form on instinct. A few errant shards clinked against his hide, but the lion share of the blast was several yards behind him by now. It was a wonder how anyone without a shield could survive something like that, but...

Well, the Knights had one another, and whatever backup would come for Knights.

If something took him down, there would be nobody coming back for Mitch. And she didn't need to be alone.

He shook his head and shifted into earth once again, taking off at a run toward the rugged settlement. It was doubtful that anyone would be more hospitable there, but it seemed less likely for whomever came out of the mess behind him to try and fight him somewhere that others may be inclined to pile on.

[User]
Curiosity killed the cat. It had been a brief, fleeting thought, but Dawn had snagged it regardless. She couldn't really deny that Drake's opinion held a ring of truth- bars tended to be violent, rowdy places, apparently even in less chaotic places than the Wastes. It was a risky move, but it had at least shown some pay-off in terms of meeting an old contact. Dawn adjusted her hat, quietly appreciative of his courtesy (but knowing better than to openly acknowledge it), and was about to make another comment when she abruptly stiffened.

In the distance. It was faint, but she couldn't miss it now that she had sensed it. Someone was heading towards town, and quite rapidly. Considering that this was a trading stop, it normally wouldn't be too surprising, but it was the feelings from the presence that caught Dawn's attention.

Stressed.

Frantic.

Worried.

Nothing good.

Lips pursed, Dawn glanced over to Drake, the only other person that she knew was a sensor. "Do you feel that?" It was quiet, barely audible, but sound carried in open spaces like this. If trouble was coming, then they needed to prepare.


[System]
Nickname(Optional): June Bug

Age: 33

Gender: Female

Physical Appearance: Sayeeda is a medium sized woman of middle eastern extraction. She has the wiry build of a swimmer or long distance runner. Her eyes are dark and almond shaped and focus slightly beyond the horizon most of the time. Sayeeda keeps her hair just longer than a buzz cut in order to facilitate wearing her helmet. She has a large tattoo of several owls in flight on her right shoulder. Sayeeda does have feminine curves but her breasts are on the smaller size of average and she does very little to emphasize her gender.

Clothing:  Camo pants and a tank top are her civilian dress. She wears a ceramic breastplate if she is expecting trouble and also has a commo helmet which she uses in battle and for technical tasks.

Personality: Sayeeda is a former mercenary soldier and has a fairly relaxed view towards life. Anything and anyone not currently shooting at her is the second priority. She is very tightly wound when it comes to people doing what she expects them too in dangerous situations and she is extremely punctilious when it comes to fulfilling any sort of formal contract.

[User]
Junebug had been in class one triage facilities on three prior occasions. Once on Temlek where artillery fire had gotten through the net of anti-ordance plasma guns and blasted the gun pits that she and her troops had been sheltering in whilst waiting for the reliving column to break through. A nearby vehicle had been hit and she had been sprayed with burning petroleum. Another time on Chadon's World, a directional mine had gone off beneath her combat car. She had been riding in the left wing gun and had been tossed clear before the secondary explosions had slagged the vehicle. A third time on Chalcedon she had been shot in a rear area when a bar fight escalated unexpectedly.

Just because a sensation was familiar didn't make it pleasant. The Terrans, like the Armored, used direct nerual impulse generators rather than anaglgesics once a soldier was safely in a med center. There were fewer side effects and they were more reliable. They also tened to scramble the mind of the patient when they were turned off. Light was suddely very bright on her eyes and she tried to cry out. Neraby a male voice said something and the light dimmed. After a moment she realised she was laying in a medicomp. Several nurses or doctors stood around looking at holographic read outs.

"Easy there Captain how are you feeling?" A man in a surgical mask asked. His right eye was covered with some sort of imager the clicked and whired. There was a powerful taste of antisceptic in the back of her throat.

"Just aces," she tried to say but her mouth felt gummy and the words came out garbled and unintelligble. Frowning she tried again.

"Just aces," she responded, clearer this time.

"Can I have some water?" she asked. Her mind knew she should be concerned with where she was, the last thing she remembered was shooting someone on a ship, though she couldn't quite remember why or who exactly. SHe had shot alot of people afterall her mind rationalized.

"Not just yet," the doctor replied, "we need to see how the resynths hold up." As he spoke he glanced over at one of the techs who was cycling through a series of read outs.

"You were in quite a state, very lucky that the overpressure didn't flat out smash any organs," the doctor went on. He sounded proud, pleased that nature hadn't been allowed to take its course.

"Sir I'm ready to return to my unit," she mumbled. Judging from the confusion that clouded the physician's eyes that wasn't quite the right response either. He exchanged looks with someone too far out of her field of view for her to see. Junebug tried to turn her head but the medicomp wouldn't allow it.

"Where am I?" she asked looking around. It was high tech for certain, probably better than most of the field surgical centers the Armored had used. State of the art without a doubt.

"You are aboard the Terran Vessel November Sky," a voice said from behind her, a moment later a mustachioed man strode into view. He had a wirey dangerous look and his eyes glinted with intelligence. A Terran warship? She had a confused recollection of the Terran's having captured the highlander. Adrenaline surged through her system and several alarms began to beep.

"Not to worry, you and your friends are our guests, your employers you might say," the man went on. He clearly intended to say more but Taya pushed past him and hugged Junebug, even though most of her body was still within the medicomp.

"It is good to have you back Junebug!" the girl all but wept.

[Assistant]
York gave a smile, though it was difficult to tell whether it was genuine or not with the impressive mustache. Meanwhile, Neil's smile was genuine. Not only Taya's affection for Junebug, but the fact that she looked like she would live. It was quick though, the smile. He heard various beeps and medical machines thrumming and he briefly wondered how such things work. He gazed intently at one of the contraptions, a tall cylinder with an oval head that read vitals through green waves on the screen.

"You should make a full recovery in the matter of days, Miss Cykali." York said. With her wits returning to her bit by bit, she began to realize the regiment she had believed herself to be in was not here, and she could afford to speak a bit less formally. "Captain Cykali," she corrected him. The man inclined his head as if to say 'fair enough.' "Where is my pilot?" she asked, a bit weakly after she had talked for a bit.

Taya waved Neil over, but he was too busy looking elsewhere. Taya then told Junenbug. "One second," and scurried over to literally push Neil over into Sayeeda's field of vision. Neil then got a good look at Sayeeda, and realized he had wanted to avoid seeing her so banged up. He played it cool though. "You feeling ok?" he asked her. "Next time don't slow me down." He joked. "When it comes to heavy weapons I get a little carried away."

[User]
"Please," Junebug said with a week laugh, "WIthout me you would be scattered across a city block." She didn't quite remember the specifics but it seemed like the thing to say. Her memory seemed to be clearing and a cool sensation was spreading down her right arm there was a quiet whir as a pneumatic pump delivered medication. There was a confused jumble of memories that seemed to seperate out into a half dozen battlefieds.

"It was nearly you who were scattered all over the pavement," Neil pointed out. Sayeeda made a dismissive gesture down at her medicomp encased body.

"Everything still on the inside, mostly at any rate," she said, "beside if I bitched every time I got a little blown up I'd never shut up."

York, still hovering put on a patronizing smile.

"Well I'll leave you to your reunion," the spy said, fluffing his mustache with his hand in a way that was meant to convey comradely bonhomie. Junebug fixed him with a steady stare. She had seen men and women like him before. In what Andor's armored euphemistically called 'the field police'. They looked human enough at first but their work turned them into something else. He reached the med bay door and looked back over his shoulder.

"I'm sure Mr Edwards will be happy to fill you in on the details of our arrangement," and with that he was gone. Junebug opened her mouth to ask what he was talking about when a calm female voice sounded over the public alert system. It sounded like a real voice rather than a synthesized computer simulation.

"All hands prepare for insertion." All around them the medics grabbed hold of whatever solid surface was to hand. The medicomp tightened around Junebug's body. A tone sounded followed rapidly by two more sequentials and then there was a sudden shuddering sensation and Junebug felt like she was about to vomit up her internal organs. Then the universe seemed to relax. They were in the RIP. Junebug arched her eyebrow at Neil.

"I'm sure Mr Edwards will be happy to fill me in on the details of this arrangement…"

[Assistant]
Taya opened her mouth to speak, and then suddenly gained a small twinkle in her eye and a mischievous smile, and she stepped out of sight. In truth, Taya just didn't want to interrupt Neil, or explain that she sat back and allowed the events to transpire. She had gotten braver since they had all met, but she still felt wholly inadequate when it came to certain things. That and a few other sly reasons.

"Can I get a seat?" Neil asked, one of the last nurses that were exiting their section of the medbay gave a smile and nodded, providing a rolling chair. After they had made it into R.I.P. space, of course. Neil plopped down, and he was going to place his hand on the holster of his gun, but the familiar resting place was gone and he recalled they had taken it. Maybe he could get it back considering they were now working for them. Speaking of which...

"Well?" Junebug said.

"Well, the dapper fellow that you had the pleasure of meeting earlier is called York and he is our new boss. Or employer." He imagined Junebug would take the news better if he didn't make it sound so subordinate. "They took Sven and Saxon I don't know where. But they saved your life, and I think they trust me now because I helped this man York apprehend Saxon-"

"Spit it out. What could they need from us that they can't do themselves?" She asked.

Neil gave a guilty smile and waved with his branded hand.

She tried to laugh, but coughed instead.

Neil shrugged. "They want to get into the Ancient Ruins we were in. In exchange they'll give us our freedom. No more bounty, and some reward money. I think it's not a bad deal, and I accepted it. Hope you don't mind."

[User]
Junebug settled back against the comfortable restraint of the medicomp.

"Well shit."

----------------------

The slap of boots on the hull plating echoed through the cavernous hangar. The training hall was large enough to hold a dozen Highlanders, the ceiling, occasionally accessable by rope or other climinbing equipment, was at least ten meters high at its lowest point. A group of twenty men and women with severe haircuts were running an assault course, weaving in an out of obstacles and vaulting walls. A sallow faced female drill seargent hurled creative profanity at the soldiers as they tried in vain to reach a bar which would be perpetually be raised. Despite several massive ventilation grates at the end of the training hall, it still smelled like stale sweat and effort.

As Sayeeda completed her lap the training computer attached to her wrist beeped, flashing up a variety metrics to offer critique of her performance. She ignored the data for now, forcing herself to keep the same pace as she started the next rotation. It had been nearly a week since she got out of sickbay. True to York's prediction she had made a full recovery, if anything she felt stronger than she had before the smugglers moon. Her training times were up across the board as were her marksmanship and reaction exercises. A brush with death could sometimes be good for focus.

The crew of the November Sky was reserved though she had seen a few of the female crew members giving Neil covert glances. For the most part they were polite but distant. Junebug wasn't sure if this was the result of orders or of a generalized distaste for York and the other intelligence personell which had transferred to his 'guests'. If they were prisoners there were few restrictions placed on them. Marines kept them off the bridge and out of engineering but beyond that they had the run of the ship. According to York the trip to Sarvan would take almost three months. That given the currents and tides within the RIP that was actually amazingly fast. The bulk of the November Sky meant it could tolerate gradients that would shred a freighter the size of the Highlander. According to what little she had been able to get out of one of the ships astrogation staff she had cornered in the cafeteria, the currents were nearly as bad as it was possible to be. Judging by how haunted the fellow looked, the navigational staff was working long hours to make any progress whatsoever.

The Highlander was still accessible but a swarm of Terran technicians were helping 'refit' the vessel. Although the actually seemed to be doing real work, they had 'coincidentally' stripped out the fusion plant for a partial rebuilt. The vessel was unflyable without several hours and a full tech team to put it back together. Worst of all York and his men had confiscated the aestimobium while Junebug had been in medical. It was technically a restricted substance in Terran space and though York had made a few token statements about evidence and due process but she wasn't holding her breath.

"Junebug!" Sayeeda slackened her pace as Taya hurried into the training hall. The girl was wearing a terran uniform without insignia. It was a flattering cut on her, though Junebug wasn't, in general, a fan of uniforms. The girl had initially been timid but she seemed to be relaxing into her new surroundings.

"Major York is looking for us," Taya said as Junebug came to a stop breathing hard. The computer on her wrist beeped as it registred that her exercise had come to an end. The mercenary laughed without much real humor.

"I would be shocked if York was in any doubt as to where we are, I'm willing to bet he gets a briefing on what we have for breakfast." Taya shrugged as if that were of no import.

"Apparently they are going to release Saxon and York wants to hold some sort of briefing, I figured we would meet up with Neil and talk before that." They were walking towards the showers as they spoke. Sayeeda nodded.

"Good thought, let me grab a shower and then we can meet Neil… somewhere." Taya reached out and laid a hand on Junebug's forearm.

"Junebug, I wanted to talk to you about something," the girl said earnestly. Sayeeda frowned uncertain what the girl had in mind.

"Sure, whats on your mind Taya?" Junebug asked as she stepped into the shower cubicle and began stripping off her sweaty exercise clothes.

"Are you… well are you feeling alright?"

Junebug stepped into the shower and clicked the button, bracing herself. The Terrans evidently believed in toughening up their troops because the shower was icy cold.

"Yeah, I feel great, Terrans may be assholes but they got the best medical tech in the galaxy."

"Right," Taya returned in a tone that didn't quite convey agreement. Sighing Junebug stepped out of the shower and fixed the girl with a level look inviting her to get to the point.

"You look younger, younger since the surgery I mean," Taya blurted. Sayeeda looked in the mirror, it wasn't something she made a habit of, after thirty, the chances you would find an improvement were pretty small. It didn't seem to her that their was much difference, the shadows under her eyes were a bit lighter, her face a bit less taught.

"I was burning the thrusters pretty hard before the Smugglers Moon, I'm sure its just rest and the doctor enforced diet." Taya looked unconvinced at this as Sayeeda pulled open a locker and retrieved a white t-shirt and her customary fatigue pants.

"Let see what Niel makes of this briefing shall we?"


[System]
Notable Parents:
None. Auron, however, is a relative.
Age: ???

Sex: Female

Hair Color: Black and Blue

Eye color: Blue

Appearance:
Most accurate for her hair.

Saina is a 5'1 woman, standing currently as the shortest of the group. Her skin is pearlescent white and her hair dark as a crows, with the end a strange hue of blue that only matches her haunting shade of pale blue eyes. She wears it up in a high ponytail the majority of the time, as when it's down the amount of mana coming off of her gives the strange side effect of her hair appearing to move like it's underwater. Something she finds weird, and doesn't like to flaunt given the way she wears it. Her attire is as mostly seen in the images above with a few exceptions; that being that her cloak does not have sleeves. A scar runs across the side of her abdomen and she frequently wears full fingered black gloves to aid her grip on her katana. Her skill with the katana is only so-so, used instead mainly to place more precision into her unique ice magic and to kill the stray fiend here and there when necessary. Her black katana rests on her hip usually and when drawn, snow falls from the blade. She carries items on her belt to grab and use when needed without having to rifle through her larger stores of belongings.
Weapon: Black Katana, Magics

Limit break:
"Lance de Glace" - Several black ice lances form around Saina in midair, then with a snap of her fingers move to impale the enemy directly

Any Armor: Black Cloak

Skills:
-Ice Magic
-High Agility
-High Speed
-An excellent dancer

Shortcomings:
-Only so-so with a sword
-Secretive
-Has difficulty forming relationships

Occupation: ???

Biography: ???

Personality: Saina is a mysterious woman who often appears to be aloof, yet when you look in her eyes there is some sort of deep understanding seen there. She is stoic, vigilant, and very blunt when asked for her opinion.

Are you arriving in Besaid or Living there?: Arriving on her chocobo, Mercury

[User]
"Yeah... a really comfortable way of thinking that is..." She replied to the man, " And what do you think you know about him?! Though I suppose I don't really know anything about him anymore eit...t..h...er... * ZZZzzzzZZZZzzzz *

He raised an eyebrow as she fell asleep mid sentence. "More than you know..." he said softly as he turned back to see the redhead covering the woman with her coat.

"I don't know who you think you are what what that idiots done to you. But that moron is too stupid to actually be able to be a player. Urick would have a easier time with it and he can barily say hi to anyone, no less a girl."

 "He might be a idiot, he might of done something stupid, the two of them might have gotten themselves in deep Chocobo shit and yeah I'm pissed at them. But they are still my friends, no matter how idiotic they are. So even if they really forget and abandon us, I'm not just going to ditch them and let some suspicious guy like you hurt them. I don't know who you are, but I don't think you're exactly a friend. So if I ever catch you doing just that and hurting them. Or that girl. I'll hunt you down myself and pound you into the Farplane."

"Five years is a long time for one to change..." He said as he watched the redhead. She seemed pretty stubborn in her thinking despite what he said. He pulled a book from under his cloak and held it Gingerly as it was very precious to him. "Enjoy your night miss. Tomorrow is going to be a day to remember. " He nodded and opened the book to start reading as he continued to walk to the village. "Do be sure to take care of your fragile friend!" He said with a careless wave behind him. He then whispered to himself, "She has a big day ahead of her." He whistled the hymn of the fayth, as he turned the page, and walked out of site.

[Assistant]
She didn't like him. Not at all, but she had to make sure Naisha got home safe more than worrying about some suspicious guy. First a suspicious girl now a suspicious guy. It seemed there all sorts of psycho's coming around. Grumbling, she turned to her sleeping friend and gripped the handles. Whoever that was, at least didn't seem to want to really harm them at the moment. So Alex collected the things brought to the beach and started pushing the chair back to Naisha's home.

The black Mage was probably going to be sore in the morning, so Alex will have to probably come check up on her to make sure she was alright. Continuing to walk along, pushing the wheelchair and occassionaly shifting her sleeping friend to a more comfortable position. Naisha was going to be sore enough, she didn't need a crook in the neck as well.

Reaching Naisha's home, Alex knocked on the door testingly before opening the door and looking around. Seeing that no one was home. Naisha's parents were probably out still enjoying the feast. A bit careless to leave the door unlocked, but they probably didn't expect to be gone long and wanted to leave it open for Naisha. Wheeling her friend through the house and entered into Naisha's bedroom, Alex positioned the chair beside the bed to be of easier access before reaching and picking up Naisha. Wrapping her left arm around the mages shoulders while the right arm went under the knees to smoothly scoop her up with ease. Reaching and pulling the covers off from their nested position, the red head set the frail woman to lie on the bed before gently removing the jacket and putting it back on herself. Then gingerly tucking her friend into bed, making sure the blanket covered the frail woman. Wiping any stray tears from the stained cheeks before sighing softly. Today's been a sin of a day that's for sure.

"Sorry Nai. It was probably me that did something wrong to make them disappear like that. Don't be sad. I'm sorry." Alex murmured, even though Naisha was sound asleep. Alex didn't know why they left for five years without contact. Perhaps Alex just pushed her fears and jumped to conclusions. But she was scared. That girl. She looked cute and seemed somewhat nice. It was easy to pick up that... Innocent air. The exact opposite of Alex. Probably better company. The red head acted brash and confident, but she was always just a little jealous of those types. Alex tried to be nice, but her temper always got out of control. She end up yelling and screaming and punching, it was just who she was. She couldn't be cute and sweet or delicate like Naisha or other girls.

Alex didn't really know what she was. Something always felt wrong. But, she couldn't help but try to cling to her friends like Nai, or Gippal or Urick. She didn't know why they did it, what their reason could be. But, she hoped it was just her and not Naisha. To spare her from hurting. Alex could take it. It was fine. It was hard seeing Naisha in pain though.

Sighing Alex stood, brushing a gloved hand through her red hair before quietly trying to sneak out. Leaving Naisha's home and closing the doors as gently as possible when she left.

Leaving her friend's home, Alex cracked her knuckles before heading off into the forest. Alex never did have a home. After getting too old for the orphanage, the Amazon just kind of slept out in the forest or just around. Sure, she could probably save enough money to get a house but she didn't see much point in it.

------

The next morning, Alex stretched as she walked through town, yawning a little. Feeling a bit better after having a full belly and a much needed rest. Moving to Naisha's house, the tall woman knocked on the door with her right hand. "Nai, it's time to go or you're going to miss the game!" she called in her usual loud booming voice.

[User]
"Mmmm… so bright…" Nai muttered as she woke up in the morning. The sun has already risen across the horizon and now was shinning on her through the window. It was blinding and quite uncomfortable. Especially with what she assumed was her hangover. Trying to move the heavy and warm blanket she usually slept with, the mage found out that she indeed found it hard to get up under it. Her muscles were hurting so badly she couldn't bring herself to push away the blanket… Eventually after about 5 minutes of mental preparation, she finally sat up and with even more weak than usual legs, managed to move from the bed, to the chair that was next to it.

 Going through the regular routine of casting the floating magic, to washing herself and dressing up, she finally was ready and just in time as she heard Alex knocking on the door.' The sounds hurts…' Nai thought as she was slowly moving to the front door to open it." I'm ready…, but please be a little bit quieter… my head is killing me still." The mage begged as she opened the door and came outside." I really shouldn't have drank like that last night… I'm sorry you had to bring me home like that." She said, reaching in her small bag she had and taking out a recovery potion. It was going to help with the hangover." I suppose the rest of the team should be gathered already. Let's go and win ourselves this game… " Nai was very close to asking Alex to not guard Gippal from time to time so he takes a hit or two, but she reminded herself the game was important and there was no place for personal things there.

[Assistant]
"...Ah... That's right."

Saina's eyebrows raised as she looked to the pale-haired brothers once more. Even as the bright lights invaded the purity of the space inside the temple, she appeared not to notice it.

"You are... blitzball players. I suppose then we will have to allow time for your necessary..."

Her voice trailed off as though she were looking for the correct terminology, as though the concept of what blitzball was was completely foreign to her.

"...duties..."

Was that right? Duty? She frowned. No, no that... couldn't be the right word. By her expression it was obvious she knew it, but decided to move forward to look at the summoner.

"Perhaps then, as they prepare and perform those... rituals... I and her ladyship can prepare supplies from the village come morning. I'm certain the task should be simple with the specific residents of Besaid."

She of course meant Tidus, Yuna and the rest of them. Saina looked to Eva, her expressionless face back once again.

"Should her ladyship feel she agrees, she can meet me in front of the temple tomorrow morning. If she has other things to attend to, I shall look into the task myself and... perhaps, if time permits, take a look into this... 'Blitzball' everyone loves so much."

Upon mentioning blitzball, she turned her eyes back to the brothers, nodding at them both.

"It would be nice to see the craft you two hold in such high regard in action. I... look forward to it."

With a touch of a smile warming her face, she nodded her head to the two of them before once again nodding to Eva.

"Your ladyship,"

With that, the pale woman departed the Besaid temple. Many people peered at her as she exited but she paid them no mind. Her head turned to the stars and her blue eyes reflected their brilliance. After gently closing them and taking a deep breath, Saina began to relax. What a long day. Off to the side, she spotted a trail that led down to the cliffside just tucked beneath the Temple. She turned to it and made her way down the cliffside overlooking the beach and the ocean before coming to a cozy overhang with enough space for three people to lay down on with ample space. She truly felt herself relax once she was away from the eyes of others, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she undid her cloak, allowing it to drape down and fold over the ground gracefully. With a stretch, her hands moved up to remove the ponytail from her hair. As she undid the band she felt her hair follicles nearly eek in joy as the blood rushed back into her scalp which she promptly massaged to help its flow. Even now her ebony and blue hair danced surreally in the oceanic breeze.

Unhindered by the laws of physics, or so it seemed, her hair moved as though she were underwater. A small side effect of her magic, she assumed. She usually wore her hair in a ponytail to hide this strange phenomenon and usually it went completely unnoticed. As though she needed anything else to make her look strange aside from skin like snow in this mad world. She pressed her body against the warm stone of the cliffs and sank down against it. How cozy this place was... if only there wasn't a village over her head, she could see herself just living here forever. Reaching out, the tips of her fingers managed to grab her cloak and wrap it around herself. Tonight wasn't the kind of night she could kick her shoes off and remove her skant clothing aside from the cloak, she decided. She had already placed her katana beside her.

She wasn't cold--she was never cold. But sleep didn't feel right without a blanket of some kind. Her eyes slowly closed as she stared out at the ocean and the stars beyond, trusting the gods to watch over her this night.

---------

With the cries of the gulls and the sun breaking the horizon into a beautiful dance of purple and orange hues, Saina's eyes cracked open. Morning... She rose up, nearly finding herself dizzy as her blood began its recirculation. With a soft groan, she took the cloak that had covered her last night and tied it snuggly around her waist, put her hairband on her wrist and her katana on her back. Before going to see the summoner, she decided to refresh herself.

Her stare meeting the rising sun head on, the pale woman ran and leapt off of the cliff and into the sea.


[System]
Role: Blacksmith

Age: 5

Description: Clelk is in one of the highest castes in the village, and it is clear that he abuses the privileges that come with this. He is fat, weighing nearly 50 pounds and standing at 3 feet tall. He has some decent muscles thanks to lugging around the heavy metal involved in his craft, but his cowardice and risk-aversion have barred him from being a potent warrior. His face is scarless and while not necessarily ugly, lacks any defining features that make him appear interesting. His yellowed teeth point at odd angles inside of his mouth. Clelk has no hair on his head, and despite having deep-set dark brown eyes, his glares seem a bit too predatory. His skin is a dark green and either covered in soot and ash or far too clean for a goblin in a village, based on the time of day that you look at him.

His clothing is arguably the most outlandish part about him - rather than wear simple loincloths or rags like his fellows, Clelk takes extreme care in his outfits, doing his best to mimic humans (although his attempts are shoddy at best). He wears a thick animal pelt as an apron while working, and his cloth shirt and pants are a far cry from the rags that most goblins wear. Even if they're impressive for a goblin, humans would find the outfit only slightly better than the rags that most of Clelks peers wear. He even sacrificed some of his copper in order to forge crude rings, which he has extreme pride in despite their poor craftsmanship.

Background: The runt of a litter of 5, Clelk was destined for mediocrity from birth. He held little hope for being anything other than a grains farmer, considering he was fearful of even rabbits, but he earned the sympathy of one of the village smiths due to his poor social standing. He was taken on as an apprentice, and this kindness led to the smith being one of the few goblins that Clelk respected. Clelk was quick to abuse his new power, raiding the granary stores and hoarding anything he created for himself, only giving them away in exchange for shinier or more useful tools. When he first saw human traders, in their wagons and adorned with fancy jewelry, he was filled with wonder and awe. He wished to be just like these immaculate creatures, leading to his strange clothes and utter fascination with human culture. One of the easiest ways to get something from him is to offer a bauble or trinket from the nearby human town, with shiny coins being able to earn as much as arrows and even spears.

Abilities: Clelk is the opposite of what is respected in goblin society - he is a coward and balks at the mere implication of danger or conflict. His abilities reflect as such - he is one of the best smiths in the village, if only for the status that such a skill affords him. Additionally, Clelk has experience cooking, although goblin cuisine is about as unrefined as one can be. When not at the forge or eating more than he deserves, Clelk usually fishes, either alone or with the older members of the village. As such, his skill in fishing far outweighs his hunting abilities. One of Clelk's strongest skills is his literacy - his desire to emulate humans has encouraged him to learn something that few, if any, other goblins in the village know. While he cannot be compared to a scholar, he can actually read messages and writing, something that even some humans are incapable of.

Reputation: Clelk is rude, abrasive, and overall not an enjoyable person to be around. This, combined with how he ransacks the granary to sate himself on a slow fishing day have left most others in the village feeling quite angry at him. Nonetheless, it is well known that he will do nearly anything as long as he is given something in turn, and he has been all too willing to offer his weapons to the warriors before a raid (in exchange for some of the loot). No female in her right mind would give him the time of day, even if he is a smith. He is typically much more respectful to elders and the higher ranking members of the tribe, especially the last shaman and his old master. He was very upset when the former passed away, and is unsure of how to feel about the new replacement.

Clelk is regarded much more highly by the human traders that occasionally visit than he is by his goblin peers, considering he usually treats them with much more respect than he does the other goblins in the village.

Property: Clelk has some of the most possessions out of anyone in the tribe, by simple virtue that he is greedy and can produce his own tools.
A Forge, albeit a very primitive and basic one. It works and is one of the few sources of iron tools and weaponry in the tribe.
A hut, completly unremarkable from its peers. It is stuffed with various baubles and trinkets that Clelk has made and traded for, as well as various weapons and tools that he plans to trade with.
A fishing rod, which has seen extensive use and will continue to do so. Average for a goblin, very basic for a human.
An iron pot, designed for humans to cook with. In the hands of a goblin, it allows for the creation of soups and other very basic dishes. This cost quite a few animal pelts, which in turn cost Clelk a decent number of weapons, but Clelk treasures it as one of his few human-made possessions.

[User]
Clelk managed to get a few swings into his work when the same warrior from before ran up to him, calling out to Clelk. Clelk immediately stopped, not wanting to risk a distraction and breaking the bar, which would result in another hour or so of work reforging. It took a solid 5 seconds before Clelk managed to recognize this warrior - they had talked at length about making an Iron sword and Clelk spitballed some costs in order to get the goblin to leave him alone. He didn't expect Cyrus to actually collect all of the pelts since that took a level of self-discipline that most goblins lacked.

"Clelk! I have the pelts! I can give you half now if you start on the sword!"

Clelk set down his hammer and quickly jogged towards the approaching warrior, gently rubbing his meaty hands on the soft fur of the pelts. Even with half of them, Clelk would make up most of what his pot cost him, and the other half would put him well on his way to purchasing some other human knick-knack.

"My, if it isn't Cyrus! Glad to see that you are eager to begin our little agreement... By the way, did you know a sword is one of the most metal-intensive things I can forge?"

Even if the pelts were enough to cover his expenses for a while, Clelk knew that his services were valuable. Why settle for less when he could maximize his profits on what is, admittedly, a bigger project?

"I'm not sure if I'll be able to replenish my stores easily, especially considering how far the human village is, and how heavy Iron can be... I mean, I'm no powerful warrior after all!"

Clelk didn't expect Cyrus to trade for metal with the humans, and the thought that Cyrus could find the ore himself was laughable. Clelk had no idea where to find Iron since the village had no real supply or mine to draw from. No, instead this was an attempt at something that would only benefit Clelk, rather than the tribe as a whole.

"It might ease my consciousness using so much Iron if you could do something for me - would probably motivate me to work a lot faster too... If you ever find anything that looks human-made or some shiny rocks, I'd really appreciate you showing me before anyone else. And bringing some dry wood to me every now and then would be nice."

Clelk honestly thought he could have gone for more, but considering too high of a price might cause the warrior to ask his old master for the sword, Clelk chose to settle for less. The goblin was getting much older, and while he still worked the forge, his new apprentices were the ones doing the heavy lifting of the metals. Adding onto the old man's workload, even if unintentionally, would really be something that Clelk would regret.

Besides, even if he only managed to convince the warrior to gather wood for him, that was a major chore taken care of - leaving plenty of time to laze about, or even work on something if he felt like it.

[Assistant]
"Yes, I suppose it is. But that's what you do, isn't it? Isn't that all you do? Work with metal?" Cyrus sighed internally, hoping that this wasn't going to be an attempt to squeeze even more out of him. The time it took for him to hunt all of these animals was far greater than the time it would take to forge the sword, and for goblins, the time spent making something was the main way its value was determined. This should have been obvious, given their lack of currency and their shorter lifespans relative to humans.

"I can get you some dry wood and if I find anything shiny or human-made in the woods, I'll give it to you, but there's no guarantees for those last two. We had a deal and I expect you to stick to it. Let me tell you, it wasn't easy getting all of those pelts. I had to track, kill, and skin those animals, not to mention drag their corpses around. I'll check in again to see how the sword is doing, but I expect you will work on it for the agreed-on price. Speaking of which-" Cyrus dropped half of the pelts at Clelk's feet.

"-that's half of it now. You'll get the other half when I have my sword. I'll be back later tonight with some dry wood from the forest, and if I can get any of that other stuff, I'll give it to you. Now, as there anything else?"

[User]
Clelk did his best to restrain his smirk. He was fairly confident that Cyrus would be willing to bend to his requests since they were fairly minor all things considered. For all either of them knew, Cyrus may never encounter a single ore or human artifact on his own - really the pelts were more than enough alone to make the deal worthwhile.

"Don't worry Cyrus, I'm not expecting you to find either of those things - I'm just taking precautions just in case you do. All I really expect is a little wood and the pelts."

Clelk wasn't going to push his luck when it came to the rest of the pelts - there was no way that Cyrus would betray him since Clelk was one of only two blacksmiths in the whole village. Besides, the reward would actually give Clelk the motivation to finish the sword in a timely matter, rather than procrastinate on it and focus on something else. Clelk paused as Cyrus was about to leave, asking the fatter goblin if anything else was necessary for the deal.

"Oh, only a little agreement I was thinking of - you can reject it if you want, it won't impact the deal we have on the sword in any way."

Clelk grabbed his hammer and placed the cool iron bar onto his anvil, preparing to start heating it for hammering.

"I may be willing to sharpen your blades on-demand - free of charge, of course. In exchange, I only ask that you come to me for anything related to blacksmithing. Leave my old master to himself, unless I give you permission."

Clelk readjusted his apron and was already beginning to heat the iron bar in the furnace. In the end, this second deal was really not a big deal - it was mostly offered so Clelk could pay back the goblin who allowed Clelk to live his current lifestyle. He wouldn't go so far as yo risk his deal with Cyrus solely to give his old master a smaller workload.

"Your choice, of course - be sure that the wood you bring back is as dry as possible, I plan to use it for kindling."

[Assistant]
"I can handle sharpening myself, don't worry" Cyrus assured him. "Plus, I already said I'd get you some dried wood soon. That's already more than we originally bargained for. If there's nothing else, I'll take my leave." He knew that Clelk would have to follow through one way or another. Stiffing a customer wasn't just bad business, it could and would disgrace him. As there was a second blacksmith in the village, he could very well end up having his tools taken from him on the chief's orders and risk losing his job, or even be banished. Deals among the goblins weren't enforced by contracts or anything written, but one's word was binding.

"Oh, and don't worry. I'll be sure to visit our village's other smith if I need anything else. I wouldn't want to give you too much work to do, Clelk. You're far too busy as it is. In fact, I feel guilty giving you this nearly-impossible task. I couldn't possibly ask anything of you again." Cyrus chuckled, his voice dripping with sarcasm at that last part. "Anyway, I'll be heading out to get that wood. You'll get the other half of the pelts when I get the sword and make sure it's in good condition. Thanks again for making it."

[User]
Clelk shrugged at the refusal for the sharpening deal, and the following insults. He really didn't expect Cyrus to agree, considering most warriors were capable of sharpening their own blades, and he really didn't lose anything from it. He only offered it in the first place out of respect to his master, so he should have been celebrating the fact that he didn't have to do extra work. As for the insults, he was used to far worse and had learned a long time ago that retaliation was not worth the effort in the slightest. Words meant little for goblins anyways - actions held far more importance, and no one had dared try attacking Clelk.

"Whatever you say - I'll work on it for the rest of today, but I probably won't finish by the end of today if I run out of wood halfway through, so you're helping out a lot with this."

Clelk had no intention of stiffing Cyrus - that was probably one of his few good qualities. He occasionally procrastinated, but never once had he simply bartered with someone and not upheld his side of the agreement. He grabbed the bar he had just finished, deciding that it would more than suffice for a goblin longsword. He grabbed his tongs and started heating the iron bar in the flames of the already lit furnace while tossing in a large piece of lumber to keep the fire roaring.


[System]
Personality

One could consider Klaus to be a lazy drunk on first glance. They wouldn't exactly be wrong, either. On his off time, Klaus is most often seen drinking with others. His curt and brash tone often is heard as he sings shanties while blasted. To those who rarely interact with the sea wolf, they could easily misunderstand this tone as mean spirited and rude. While rude would most likely be correct, mean spirited is the furthest thing to what Klaus is. Years of the sea and White Harbor have since fouled his language and expressions, but his heart is as sincere as it can be. He deeply values honesty, refusing to lie even if he gets in trouble. He also cares deeply about others, though he refuses to say it.

He's also stubborn as a mule. Often having drinking competitions with others, he holds the fact that he's the best drinker in all of White Harbor close to his heart. Though, he has lost a considerable amount of times. He says that they were his 'off-days' and still makes dumb bets with random people. Despite this, others (especially the militia navy) still regard him as a good leader, though he is rather inflexible at times. During times of importance, Klaus is as sober as he can be. A captain through and through, he takes the vanguard and leads the way for others.

Appearance

Most notably, Klaus is not human. With the physical appearance of a humanoid wolf, Klaus stands at 6'8". With a muscular but slender build, it's hard for the average softie to not be intimidated by his size. His white and grey hair is combed well to prevent knots, but unstyled in any way. His attire consists mostly of thin coats, as his fur lets him withstand cold weather without the thick jackets the citizens of White Harbor usually wear.

"Damn, I thought this bottle would have rum in it."

| N a m e: |
Klaus D'Arnagan
| Alias|Nickames|Titles: |
Captain of the White Harbor Militia Navy
| G e n d e r: |
Male
| A g e: |
28
| R a n k: |
A
| Guild Membership Status: |
Since formation. While originally joining as a lost bet, he has since enjoyed the time he spent with them.
| Guild Seal Location: |
On the back of his left hand.
| History: |
Brought to shore in the ship wreckage, the young Klaus was found by the community of fishermen and sailors on the shore of White Harbor. Adopted by the former captain of the militia navy, he quickly grew into community of sea men. It was as if he was born from the sea, so much so that the ghostly revenant of a familiar ship followed him. First he gained his bearings as a fisherman. Then, he became a sailor for the militia navy. Learning from his adoptive father, he quickly rose up the militia's loose chain of command. With the untimely passing of his father, the rank of captain had been thrust onto the next person in the chain: him.

He proved himself as a great captain. Under his eye, the relative peace of White Harbor's shores were protected from danger. When he had heard a mage guild was opening in the city, he initially gave his wholehearted opposition. It wasn't until one of the founding members of the guild challenged him to a drinking competition that his mind would change. He was drunk under the table and as a result, had to support and join the guild. It wasn't all bad, though. He ended up thoroughly enjoying the guild.
| Magic: |
With the ethereal vestige of the ship Klaus had been found on, the sea wolf can summon the ghost of the ship "Wavecrasher" with his ship magic. The ship behaves like a regular boat, taking the same damage that a boat would take. This means it can't fly it the sky, nor can it safely move on land. As long as the boat isn't summoned, it slowly restores itself to its usual state with loaded cannons. He can also partially summon bits of the boat, such as the anchor or a single cannon. Taking the form of a small brigantine, the boat is sized for a crew of up to 15 people, though it doesn't require anyone other than Klaus since he can control the ship itself. With a total of seven cannons on deck, the boat is an incredibly mobile gunboat that can deal a whallop of damage.
| Strengths and Weakness: |
• Great swordsman, especially on unstable surfaces.
• Excellent captain
• Can handle his booze like nobody's business
• Cold weather rarely affects him due to his fur

○ His magic is heavily gimped on land
○ Most of his acquired skills are useless on land
○ Stubborn like a mule
| Miscs : |
He has a cutlass inherited from his adoptive family and holds it pretty dear to him.

[User]
Lee
Interacting with: @Raijinslayer@Grey

Following Arc and Claire, Lee was quieter than normal. If the air was already cold, Lee and Violet were positively frozen as the two went on guard immediately. The dim lights were concerning admittedly, but they did not seem attached to any spirit Lee could recognize. "I'll admit, it could be worse, though I would be lying if I said I knew what is going on here. Just try not to stray from the group just in case us losing sight of the others immediately and the unnatural darkness didn't catch your attention." If this was anything like what the child experienced, there was no doubt they would have been lost almost immediately.

Much like her father the air around her was cold, but filled with the familiar warmth of life that the small lights that oft accompanied the the two mages gave off in their presence "I don't feel anything yet, is that bad?" The lights danced around the Necromancers, even going as far as darting closer to the other two in the group, as if they were protective of the living mages they could recognize.

[Assistant]
Eldrid Isfjellbarn

Crashing into mossy soil and stone was never something to be triumphant about, but the sudden impact of the creature crashing to the marsh's floor was something of a win for Eldrid. It meant that the beast wasn't just going to skitter off back to its den the victor of this cowardly ambush. She hadn't expected to fell the thing with a few savaging blows, so its sudden shriek and reversal of the impromptu grapple she held on it did not surprise her much. Rather than try to struggle free from the monstrous creature as its shadowy maw grew to engulf her, she donned the wicked, battle hungry grin so common among those who practiced her magecraft.

"Better than you have tried this, asshole!"

Her hands slipped from its sides as its jaws saw fit to lock around her, fingers digging into the edges of its mouth in what one would assume to be a preventative measure to keep it from snapping closed on her. But it was not to keep it off her that she held so fast. Instead, it was to keep it from escaping her. Even as the whirring blades of its internal void sliced at her arms, the Dragonslayer inhaled a deep breath, the putrid swamp air mixing with the coppery scent of her blood. Then, with just as little warning as her earlier maneuver, she exhaled. Only, instead of the air she had sucked up, a cone of fire erupted from her mouth. Angry red dragonflame filled the beast's stomach in lieu of her flesh.

[User]
The sea wolf had been too preoccupied with watching his two compatriots. Aye, he came along to ensure they wouldn't face permanent injury from the quest (and to ensure that a certain two people wouldn't ruin the reputation of the guild). To watch those kids (though they were at most 10 years his younger) scrap it out and try to help others filled him with a certain sense of pride.

Wait, Malon was still being carted off by monster. Now wasn't the time for him to watch in pride. His thick fur that often protected him worked against him. It hid the feeling of him being sunk into the earth; he only realized once he was ankle deep. With all his strength, he resisted the creature's pull.

He wasn't one to be beaten by his youngers, nor would he die in a place that wasn't the sea. No, he would sink with his ship in a blaze of glory. That was his chosen fate. A simple smoke monster that he could barely see thanks to his horrid dog vision? Not a chance. A ghostly green shape began to form on his back; a cannon's barrel pointed directly at the monster both above and below. With his back protected, the creature's bladed thrust had been redirected away from his broad back. At the same time, the cannon fired with a loud explosion. A flaming orb of spirits crashed through the smoky monster above and dragged their air with it. The pressure of the ball dragged what mud had been on his fur with it. The cannon itself, however, felt the recoil. The large frame smashed into the mud, erupting in an explosion of muck that was definitely felt by whatever was below. Klaus felt the recoil too, his body being sent even further into the ground. It wasn't far enough to trap him, though.

With power in each step, he dragged himself out of the mud. How was he going to catch up with the flying Eldrid and help Malon? By stealing her idea of course. Aye, this wasn't something he would have wanted to done, but the situation called for it. He'd have to steal that technique that she used. With another cannon forming in front of him, he quickly clambered inside of the chamber. With another explosion, he was launched forward toward Eldrid. He'd make it, probably. His feet were in absolute pain and his hearing was shot from the two point-blank blasts, though.

On the way overhead, he stuck out his hand for Ksavir. "Grab on, kid!" He yelled at the blood mage. For only a brief moment, the air dog's hand was reachable for the blood mage. Whether he came along or not was depending on how fast he could react to a wolf that was no longer restrained to land and sea.


[System]
586 posts in 821 days
Online
Alias: Justice Yellow

Age: 31

Current Appearance:

Costume: Yellow top with crossed black lightning bolts, a white skirt, yellow stockings, white boots, and a yellow cape with crossed black lightning bolts. She also carries a metal staff that doubles as a lightning rod. "I look like a battery ad, but it could have been worse..."

Powers: As one would expect from her costume, Carrie's powers are all themed around lightning and electricity.

Lightning Leap: More of a utility move than anything else, Carrie turns herself into a bolt of lightning that travels a short distance before she reforms. Basically a short-range teleportation.

Thunder Breath: Just what it sounds like.

Electric Explosion: An area of effect ability, Carrie summons a dome of electricity that slowly grows and damages all in its path.

Electric Pillar: Carrie conjures a ground-to-air lightning strike to hammer a single opponent.

Wrath Of The Storm: A barrage of lightning bolts strike Carrie's staff, charging it up before unleashing an electric wave motion gun effect. Her finisher.

Source: A pair of lightning bolt shaped earrings.

History with Justice Heart: Carrie was one of the original Justice Heart girls- in fact, though she cringes at it, she came up with the name. She was always in the thick of the fight, thinking that the best defense is an overwhelming offense. Naturally, this led to her getting a bit of a reputation as a hothead. Her friends didn't like it at first, and it led to some arguments between over how best to defeat monsters. However, when she charged after Katarina alone one dark night, the Dollmaster beat her badly, and if it wasn't for her friends intervening and driving the villain off, she probably would have died. This led to better relationships with her teammates, as well as a calmer attitude in fights. Still, she had a good heart, and was a valued member of the team.

History After Justice Heart: When Dollmaster was defeated there was no need for Justice Yellow anymore... but that was kept Carrie going through the day. She had major depressive episodes, and while her grades had never been stellar, they only slipped further. Health issues and bad luck only further crushed her once-indomitable spirit, and she now works as a food court grunt, living with her parents because she's unable to make ends meet on her own.

[User]
Eileen Fang AKA Justice Violet and Judge Cinnamon
7:32PM on the road

"Hah!" Cinnamon cried out.

"Wh-what's wrong?" Eileen asked, continuing to drive in a hunched over posture, like an old woman.

Cinnamon was sweating bullets. How had his senses been so off? "This is bad!" he projected telepathically to all the girls, "Th-there's at least one monster for EACH of you! Abort rendezvous! Your top priority right now is survival! Fend off the one that is currently attacking you and report!" Cinnamon was shaking. Something of this magnitude had happened only once. Right before the final showdown with Dollmaster, Dollmaster had resurrected all past defeated monsters for one final blitz. Justice Heart was able to fend them off, but that was when they were at their peak. Cinnamon wasn't even sure if Justice Heart, old and rusty as they were now, could even handle one monster without taking a few casualties.

"Wh-what?!" Eileen asked, unconsciously swerving from Cinnamon's announcement, eliciting a loud, annoyed honk from behind. The offended car changed lanes and zoomed past Eileen's car, but not before the driver rolled down his window, flipped her off, and shouted, "Crazy Asian woman drivers!"

"Uuh...uuuuuuuugghhh..." Eileen slumped into her seat and slowed down some more, sobbing.

"N-now's not the time for that!" Cinnamon said, "There are two heading right for us! Two? Cinnamon looked out the window and saw Justice SolarFlare's car driving beside them. That made sense then. "Quick! You two should get out and transform!" Cinnamon announced telepathically only to Eileen and Fiona, but as the creatures began to catch up, Fiona started accelerating. Taking her cue, Eileen followed suit. "Wh-what are you doing!?" Cinnamon demanded, frantically attempting to buckle up his tiny plush body into the passenger seat. He missed the days when he traveled everywhere either being carried around in the bosom of one of the girls, or riding in one of their totebags. He had never gotten the hang of riding in these flimsy, tin suicide machines known as 'cars'.

"I-I'm j-just following..." Eileen squeezed out. As a timid driver, she had never driven this fast before. But due to her nature, she was usually perceptive when others gave her non-verbal cues, as her need to please others had become a sort of second nature.

What happened next was a blur, and before she knew it, Eileen was leaving a fireball of a wreck behind her, while rolling down the window to let her comrade and mother of two inside the car. Cinnamon was unable to escape as Fiona sat right into him, crushing him against the back of the passenger seat.

"G-good evening...oh what a day, what a l-lovely day..." Eileen replied, her brain and tongue confused from all the excitement. "Oh, uh...y-you're sitting on the Judge..." Eileen pointed out.

Communicating telepathically, since all his mouth could achieve at this moment were muffled mumbles, Cinnamon said, "That collision won't have killed it, and it has a friend. You girls should probably get out and transform."

[Assistant]
7:32 PM Fleeing

"Geeeh." Lily weakly protested as her body still reacted to the ruckus going outside. She really wanted to be sleeping and taking a rest right now, believing her part had been done. But there was an awful racket outside. "Buzz off". She groaned, still half drunk. It was then when Carrie's voice awakened her once again. It was Carrie. She was on top of the roof, and more magical girls were arriving. But still, the fact that her old comrade was back despite her life pains, and was already kicking ass, all while her sister was looking there still trying to drive and look panicked, awoke something in the eternal 12-year old.

"cksake." She half motioned as she pulled her pendant out of her purse, initiating a quick transformation complete with sparkly moves and the most tepid entonation of her transformation spell ever. "Star Transformation Water Lily whatever." She mumbled, as she pulled the door open and flung herself in the roof in the fray once more, her healing spells already burning the alcohol out of her body. She looked in top shape, in no in small degree the fact that she still fit the same childish dress of 20 years ago.

"Time to kick ass!" She yelled as she aimed her wand and..." Moonlight BeeEEEEEGHRRMG!"

Apparently that wasn't the type of projectile attack she wanted to do, but with the sudden jolts of the car, the healing rush, and the alcohol, the contents of Lily's stomach were flung at high speed towards the creatures.

Oh well, it would serve as a distraction.

[User]
'Star' Heart
7:32PM Fleeing by Vehicle from Police Bar
Direct Interactions - @AtomicNut@shagranoz
Carrie seemed to heavily injure the snake like monster with her Thunder Breath, the lightning electrocuting it to a critical state. The serpent was fast, but lightning was faster. It seemed this magical girl was ideal for fighting this creature. That wasn't the case for the armored creature running towards them however, which was barreling down on the now exposed lightning based magical girl.

"L-Lily? What are you doing!?" The older sister watched her little sister climb out of the car window and get on the roof. Did she use to be this crazy?

No, she was just drunk. The projectile vomit flew towards the armored creature. The attempt to have it be a proper distraction was effective though, with even the shadowy armored creature stopping at the display and blankly staring for a few seconds in complete confusion.

Emily took her opportunity. "H-Holy on Lily!" The car spun around - thankfully not into oncoming traffic, as the cars behind the fight had stopped and were desperately try and run away.

"Carrie! Get in, now! We can't fight it!" Carrie's powers were useful against a mobile target, she knew. But an armored target would likely be more resistant to her attacks.

As she waited for Carrie to hop in, Emily sung the ridiculous tune that was needed to make her transform. "Celestial world come to me! Starheart Transformation!" The ridiculous costume she wore as a young teenager appeared on her body, wand in hand. In an attempt to help out her teamate, Emily drew a path to the car door her companion would be able to move more rapidly across.

GM EVIL STUFF MUHHAHAHAHA
@Stern Algorithm - Driving together
The car transference was nothing short of epic, as the car crashed into the plastic market both setting it alight as a pile of smelly, burning plastic and likely driving up Fiona's insurance rates considerably. The pair of them were focused on bigger things however, as Cinnamon continued his desperate job despite his current, crushed state.

The plastic monster was slowed down, but the shadow monster was directly behind them in the car, hiding behind their seats from the angle of the sun. "Kzzzzkreeet!" The shadow monster lunged for the driver - it'd probably be good to transform before the attack hit her normal body.

- Driving
Fortunately, Vivian would find herself receiving an additional warning before a gust of wind flew by her, shaking the motorcyle and likely tilting it slightly and lifting one of the wheels off the ground before slamming back into the highway.

In front of her appearing was a gigantic, humanoid, storm like creature that materialized next to the motorcycle, moving alongside and and reaching it's fist back.

Driving would likely find itself a secondary concern for Vivian shortly.

As Courntey's pain in the ass was easily removed - the poisonous spines were barbed however, so it carried a bit of extra skin along with it. She'd feel a little woozy from the blood loss and from something the spine had in it, but the transformation would fire off successfully, the twenty-year old costume assembling on her body with both pink guns materializing into her holsters. As she'd look up, she'd see the strange monster strafe throughout the sky, trying to find a favorable bead on it's currently hidden target once again.

Before Courtney would get too comfortable, the trashcan with ring loudly - with one of the spines sticking halfway out of her own side as the monster started to fire at it.

@Pyromania99 - Apartment
The couch was easily cut in half, pieces of wood shattering and fabric tearing as Vale sliced it in two. An ethereal shadow briefly appeared, before flying into the kitchen.

Cabinets began to open, drawers began to roll out, and their contents began floating as if carried by some unfindable force. Then they began to fly through the air at the earth-based magical girl.

As for her companion in more ways than one, the water monster indeed did explode, detonating by the soundwaves into a million tiny drops, soaking the floor. If Alice felt relieved for a couple seconds though, she was foolish: detonating a liquid monster wasn't exactly the most lethal thing in the world, and the drops recoalased into a bigger, larger monster, with more water still flowing into the apartment.

It was clear as the water elemental began to swing that the landlord would not be happy with them.

[Assistant]
With everything that was happening, Elise could only blink stupidly from her position on the ground. Running her head, she slowly got up and looked over to the fight. It looked like Courtney had caught a stinger to the ass, but she seemed to be handling it well enough. She'd managed to transform too, although the bug she was fighting probably wasn't going to make things easy for her.

"Well, I guess it's time I got started too." She said, standing up shakily and grabbing her necklace. "As the darkness fades, I'll open up to face the dawn! Justice Bloooo-"

And then she was cut off, as the electric monstrosity that she may have forgotten was also there threw her through the window of a nearby shop. For a moment, she simply lay there, slumped against the pile of glass and smashed furniture. To any onlookers, she may very well have looked dead.

That is, until a single, glowing gold flower petal floated past her face.

Suddenly, a second, a third, and a fourth joined the first, and it continued until a full stream of petals was floating around her.

And then she grinned.

"Promised Petal Blade."

And as she spoke, the stream flowed to surround her sword, which she promptly slashed upwards. As she did so, an arc of petals flew from the blade, colliding with the black lightning monster and sending up a cloud of dust and debris.

"You know, I'm pretty sure the old monsters at least gave us time to transform..." She said, cracking her neck as she reemerged from the smashed storefront. "Still though, considering you're fighting the strongest member of Justice Heart, I can't say I blame ya!"

[User]
Carrie knew she was outgunned. One on one, her versus the snake was likely to be in her favor, but she'd never been good at getting her attacks to penetrate any sort of armor, and if that shadowy monstrosity got its hands on her, she was dead. Fortunately, Emily gave her an out.

Sliding onto Emily's ribbon of light, Carrie entered the car NASCAR-style. "Get us out of here!" she yelled. This serpent, the armored monster- she'd fought them before. Another piece of evidence that Dollmaster was back, and eager for revenge. The thought chilled her to the bone.

Lily was still hammered, and it wasn't pretty. The other girl was barely functional. Carrie looked at her friend, knowing that they'd need her help to survive this. "Lily, listen to me. We're being attacked. You need to heal yourself, whip up a cure for drunkenness or something like that." She made a mental note to make Lily promise to lay off the booze, at least until the current crisis was over.

Turning to Emily, Carrie asked, "Do we have any plans? Meet up with the other girls, try to get some numbers together? Anything's better than just running aimlessly."