[System]
Alias(es): NS-10, Project AVA

Age: Looks around her mid to late-twenties

Hair Color: Dark Brown-Black
Eye Color: Electric Blue

Species: Android

Personality:
An android, still learning the ways of being human, Ava has admitted herself that she is "not good with feelings", and that she is "as cold as one already dead", mainly due to her externally-stoic, serious, and detached demeanor. Even when she speaks, which tends to be articulate, honest, and eloquent, Ava remains on the reserved side. However, even though she shows herself in being steely-eyed, evidence suggests that she, in fact, possesses great emotional independence, meaning that her emotions and feelings are actually closed off in a somewhat adolescent fashion.

In fact, she has shown, at times, some extent of these said-emotions and feelings, like concern, sadness, and (especially) vengeance, whenever those she cares about, mainly her creator, is threatened, injured, or killed. When threatened, Ava will be impervious, and will often not hesitate to kill the offender, in order to protect herself and others, having to show great savagery in her actions, while having no shame or remorse afterwards. Due to having a secondary processing system within her brain, even though Ava was programmed to have the Three Laws, she can choose whether or not to obey them, resulting her to stem a rather stubborn, headstrong, and independent nature, even to a fault; she'll refuse to walk away from any suspicious activity, as well as ignore her own injuries to complete a certain task.

Abilities:
She may seem human, but Ava is the first of an entirely-new generation of beings, who was designed to be significantly smarter and stronger than that of an average human. With exceptional strength, speed, agility, and endurance, having to go beyond the peak of human potential, she is able to brutalize anyone and anything casually, whilst having to handle and survive certain scenarios (she was able to take a fair amount of bullets until collapse, and keep up with those upon her level).

Resourceful and extremely intelligent, while having to display a regular talent for improvisation, Ava can go through some particularly-challenging situations or opponents. She can perform feats more efficiently than most with little to no effort: She is able to overpower and lift people off the ground with one-hand, and kill them, when needed, as well as be able to jump at great lengths, and land without injury. In many of her appearances, Ava shows to be extremely proficient with many kinds of weaponry, mainly firearms, explaining her choice to carry a pair of handguns, as well as many others. She also shows to be an expert in many forms of hand-to-hand combat.

Relatives/Relationships:
Roy Williams (creator/guardian)

Portrayed By: Kate Beckinsale

[User]
Four years. Four years, was how long she has been active. At first, there was a cascade of waves, and then there cane a vision; a dream. The time where she "came to life" was the moment she awakened from her sleep, and happened to see a face; she was sure it wasn't a dream. One of her blue irises had scanned that face, having to commit it into her memory, and remember it for the rest of her life. At first, emotions weren't a part of her, but then, after a few months, the information was being absorbed from one scenario, to the next.

AVA wasn't sure whether if the whole time she was dreaming, and yet, it felt so real. The name, the hair, the facials; she remembered them. Her enhanced senses and extreme intelligence came from one experiment to the other, and she acted upon request after request, although there were times where she would question Roy, if something became confusing. She was becoming a lot closer to becoming the "perfect specimen", as her creator Dr. Williams had called her. Sometimes AVA wondered what she meant, but then, she was there to please Roy in reaching her desired goal. She could remember that "traits of loyalty" was a phrase written in one of her journals.

But then, there came something else, ever since they began the test of feeling sensations; to make sure that her nervous system was intact, and responding in the right way. From feeling pain, to feelings of pleasure; every little thing regarding the sense of touch was to be noted. The test for her capability to return the favor, came the spark of something else. If there was ever a time that she was capable in expressing feelings of love, there came a moment where it was real. From time to time, having to awaken in a bed with the human woman by her side, AVA registered that it has happened, although she has yet to believe that it was real.

Now, they were on the run. For a crime her creator knew she did not commit. According to her own conscience, AVA was sure that she had been in her creator's area of vision, at the time. The only method they had for escape, was the inconspicuous act of AVA detonating a few smoke bombs, before they both jumped out of the window with registered firearms for protection. Having to run into an alleyway, the Android looked out into the streets, in order to spot any of police cars that were following them. "I'm still confused, Doctor", she said, having to look over the gun in her hand. "I have done nothing against the law. I was with you the whole time", she gave a sigh, having to look back at her creator, who was exhausted from their escape.

[Assistant]
Things could change a lot in four years Roy had come to realize, she had gone from an inventor with a dream to someone who had created something with free will, or better yet the right to choose whether she wanted to follow those laws. Things had been fine her teaching Ava these things over the years they had been going through touch and feelings even though sometimes she was questioned as to why, "need to know these things," as well as understand them "to connect with other humans." It was the answer she had given months ago, though those lines were now blurring Roy realized, but she had been ripped from her mind when the police came.

They had demanded her to hand Ava over saying and android with the freedom to choose was too dangerous, and when she had stood her ground and told them no that she would not she had been threatened it was then that Ava seemed to act. Smoke bombs had been set off and they had ran with registered weapons even though her brothers gun which now sat in the holster on her thigh felt heavy, David had wanted her safe and it seemed after long years of it sitting in the nightstand she would have to use it. Roy hoped not the inventor didn't know what she would do if she used it, she had pinched the bridge of her nose shoulders tense as the sirens faded away in the distance even then her tense body didn't relax.

The question caught her off guard to where grey eyes finally opened being pulled from the chaotic thoughts that wouldn't seem to calm, "because us humans aren't rational when we're scared." It was why some of the things happened and it seemed this would be the case as well, "you may have been in my sight when it happened Ava, but when we're scared we don't tend to take one another's words for truth unless we have proof even then they would've found a way to take you." It was how it worked without proof they would just call her a liar and even with proof they would have told her she had fabricated the whole thing, since she had created Ava how easy it would have been to fabricate proof and in a way they were right it would've been too easy for her to do so. "I also thought I told you to call me Roy, though what little good it does me now I suppose since in probably a few hours my picture and name will be all over the news as well as yours."

The human ran her hand through her hair not entirely sure where to go from here, things had just gotten complicated and fast that much was for sure. Roy doubted she'd be able to go back inside to grab things the police had probably left a man to guard her now old apartment, which meant they had nothing, but the clothes on their backs. She as sure she could go to David for help, but she damn herself to hell before she put her brother into any danger or got him wrapped up in all of this. "I don't even know where we can go didn't have anywhere safe besides my apartment and now that's gone."

[User]
AVA's face hasn't changed from her original gaze, although there were a few slight cracks upon certain places that would leak some emotions that she seemed to try and hide. By going through the memory database in her processor of a brain, she tried to find anything of significance that would help in their current situation. Looking from her creator, to the gun in her hand, she flashbacks rock the moment where she found a lone object on the ground during the struggle between them and the police. There was, no doubt, a mess back at the house, so the android couldn't seem to remember whether if the gun was owned by law enforcement or not.

Her face didn't change when she was instructed not to call her by that title, and AVA understood immediately. "Forgive me, as I wasn't entirely sure what to call you", she responded in her usual cold and detached but eloquent voice, as she looked back at the weapon in her hand. She remembered using it during one of their usual exercises. Like the results suggested, it took AVA only a few months to adjust in using them. The memory came and disappeared, when the android to find herself looking up at the sky, and feel the water drop upon her dense, synthetic face. Internally, she wondered what was on the minds of the humans that led up to this peculiar scenario. Roy's last words made the taller woman look back to her, before proceeding to walk in her direction.

The blonde woman's hair was obviously damp by the downpour, and the next thing that the slender dark-haired woman did, was take off her long, foot-lengthed coat, and place it over her creator's shoulders. As stubborn as she was, AVA didn't let the rain bother her, considering her metallic piece were covered by synthetic skin. They had to lay low; perhaps find a place that had a cover, and wouldn't require witnesses.


[System]
Gender: Female
Species: Human
Job: Priestess Missionary
Appearance:

Name: Symphony
Gender: N/A~ Answers to male pronouns.
Species: Spirit
Job: Ayrie's Familiar
Appearance: Symphony appears as a slightly larger than average Fennec Fox with white fur and red eyes.

Name: Astoria
Gender: Female
Species: Human
Job: Priestess
Appearance:

Name: Gerrick
Gender: Male
Species: Human
Job: Priest
Appearance:

Name: Darrin
Gender: Male
Species: Human
Job: Priest
Appearance:

[User]
Asran finally managed to calm somewhat though his tears kept flowing. When he heard the news that Ayrie was indeed Astoria reborn he felt like he got sucker punched. Was this why he found himself falling for her? 'No! This isn't fair! This is not how I wanted this. Astoria, why can't you just leave me in peace?!' he stood up abruptly only to fall back as he found his strength waning more. The emotional turmoil he was feeling was too immense for his body to handle.

The runes started glowing again, but this time it was black instead of gold. Asran clutched at his head as he screamed in pain. As it felt like a thousand hornets started buzzing around in his head. Nadia suddenly appeared, and used guardian summons to form sealing barriers around him. "Quickly get behind me child. The emotional turmoil has weakened him spiritually. Meaning the secondary part of the curse is activating," she said.
Even wrath appeared, and started helping Nadia with containing Asran. "You really did a number on him Astoria. I'll get to you later for right now witness your handiwork."

[Assistant]
Ayrie cried out, fearing the worst. When Nadia appeared she did as directed and got behind her. "Nadia... I didn't know telling him would do this to him. I couldn't let him find out from anyone else, or on his own. It had to be me."

When Wrath appeared she felt an odd mix of relief and fear, but when the demoness called her Astoria she felt anger.

"I may have her soul, Wrath, but I am NOT her. I would never have done this to him." She glared at the back of Wrath's head. "I'm going to release him from this torment when I have learned how, and you can either help me or stay out of my way."

[User]
Soon an inhuman roar echoed and shook the earth around them. The magical pressure that fell upon the city was enough to thrust those weak in the magical arts to the ground. The markings on Asran's body shot out a black substance that wrapped around him quickly taking form. It was his armored form like in astorias memories, but it was wrong. There were cracks lined with teeth all over his armor pouring forth blue flames. Asran slammed his fists angrily into the barrier starting to tear it apart.
"Feeding frenzy, I'm pretty sure if Asran was conscious for this he'd make a joke about eating his feelings," Nadia said giggling. Wrath just rolled her eyes as she focused on keeping Asran contained.

[Assistant]
Ayrie wasn't quite sure what the name of the magic they were doing was called, but watching Nadia and half remembering Astoria's power she decided to help by placing another barrier outside theirs. She placed it outside theirs in order to make sure the power wouldn't touch him, but would reinforce what they had in place. She poured as much energy as she could into it, feeding it power to help contain him.

"Well, let's make sure all he eats is feelings." Ayrie said. 'She might be angry at me but if Wrath hadn't attacked us last night this wouldn't be happening now.'

[User]
Asran soon began to weaken, and soon collapsed to his knees. His armor spitting up bits of fire before dying out. Nadia, and Wrath looked panicked as they saw Asran's eyes start to dull in their glow. "He's really become too weak... hasn't he," Nadia said. Her voice filled with such sorrow, and regret.

"There's not a lot that can help him anymore," Wrath said. She looked away her hands clenching into fists of rage. "If only you'd realized your mistake before you could do what you did Astoria. Maybe things would have been different. Maybe he'd have been able." Wrath cut herself off as she looked at her brother. His black armor turning grey, and flaking off. "Maybe we sons can still fix this... Maybe just maybe pride can fix this with his magic." She looked at Ayrie.

[Assistant]
"Asran..." Ayrie went to his side, but wouldn't touch him in fear of hurting him more. She simply knelt beside him, looking up at Wrath and Nadia helplessly.

"What do you want me to do? I know what the spell was that caused this, but I do not know enough, or have enough practice, to reverse it myself. Not yet." Ayrie said, looking back at Wrath and feeling more kinship with her in their mutual care for him. "I'll do whatever it takes to help him."

Her determination to help him was genuine, though she had her reservations about working with Wrath. This was the woman that had attacked them, had wounded both of them and caused Asran to expend even more energy against the restraints of the curse. Had she only listened to him and left them alone last night he might not have been so weak when Ayrie told him the truth. She couldn't be certain, though, so she tried not to blame her. The Angel was the real villain in all of this, the one who was now proclaimed a God. He deserved punishment, and Ayrie was going to see to it the truth of his nature was brought forth, even if it killed her.

[User] "If you wish to save him there is a way. But, it will leave you spiritually weakened for how long I do not know," Nadia said. She looked to Wrath who was looking at her brother with such an extreme amount of worry. "The way is for you to willingly welcome a possession. They will use your memories, and yourmagic to cast the spell to undo what has been done. But, it would also be up to the spirit to leave your body once it is inside," Nadia said.

[Assistant]
Ayrie listened carefully as Nadia spoke, and when she was done she thought for a few moments before answering.

"I'll do it." She said. "If it means I'm trapped in this body with a spirit or killed, I'll do it." She looked at Asran, then back to Nadia. "He would have done it for Astoria before she hurt him. Just tell me what to do."

[User]
"You do not need to do much besides let your mind, and soul be open." Nadia began to chant to summon a greater light spirit. Who would be able to easily manipulate the light magic inside Ayrie's body to do the spell that would cure Asran.

However, Asran gently touched Ayrie looking at her with weak worried eyes. "Not, worth, it... You will regret it," he spoke weakly. His memories of Astoria betraying him still plagued his mind. How even though he'd devoted himself to doing good. There would always be doubts in peoples minds that a demon can never ever change. Which was something he'd begun to believe as well.

[Assistant]
Ayrie looked down at Asran as he told her it wasn't worth it and smiled. "It's worth it if it means saving you. If it means righting the wrongs of the past." she looked back to Nadia, "You're sure the one you're calling will do the deed, right? I don't want to be possessed by something that thinks it can just take my body for a joy ride without doing what we want it to."

She sat down fully and closed her eyes, opening her mind and heart to whatever might be coming. Asran had said not to do it, that it wasn't worth it, but she knew that to save him she would take most risks. What had been done to him wasn't fair, and that Astoria got a second chance at life through Ayrie meant it was Ayrie's job to fix it. She had taken that thought very seriously over the last twelve hours, as she had stayed awake talking and thinking with the priests. The balance of the universe meant that she had to fix what her past self had done, even though she didn't feel it was her who had done it.

"I'm ready." Ayrie said to Nadia.

[User]
Nadia finished the summoning the creature was slender, and bipedal with white pearlescent skin, and ruby red eyes. "This creature I trust to get the job done right. But, it can be tricky to dismiss especially after tasting or experiencing anything of this world," she said. Then looked to the spirit, and motioned to Ayrie. "Please help her to break the curse laid upon this demon." The spirit walked over to Ayrie, and phased into her body.

The power that flowed through Ayrie was strong almost strangling. As it took control over her, and moved her body to look over the demon. Ayrie's hand gently brushed over Asran's armor making it crumble away. Then touched his skin Ayrie could hear the spirit croon a little at the skin contact. Then began to chant the reversal spell on Asran's body.

Asran grimaced in pain as the runes began to glow gold, and then began lifting off of his skin. With it's job done it debated leaving or not.

[Assistant]
Ayrie kept herself from panicking as the spirit engulfed her, using her to remove the curse and then pausing once it's task was complete. She didn't plead, only sent him the mental feeling of happiness that Asran was okay, gratitude to the spirit for helping him, and then longing to be with Asran herself as it had been a very long few days.

She then sent the thought, 'What is your name? I will praise you the rest of my days.' But she did not ask it to leave, not wanting to upset it.

[User]
The spirit tilted Ayrie's head gently. It had never really been thanked before by the one it possessed. So it was rather confused, and mentally told Ayrie. 'I do not have a name of my own. I have nothing your world offers.' It then turned hearing Nadia preparing a banishment spell for the spirit making it hiss angrily. Fox like ears sprun from Ayrie's head as the spirit's hackles went up.

Asran moved quickly dismissing the magic Nadia was casting. With his curse gone he was able to reclaim some of the sea of might he'd once possessed. "Ayrie, if you wish to truly thank the spirit. Form a contract with it, do that and it can stay here. Do the things it cannot do while in its home plane which has nothing is nothing. Just an empty white void," he said his voice was even stronger.

[Assistant]
Ayrie thought about this for a moment, considering her options.

'Wait, a deal my friend. I am in your debt, and I would like to repay it.' She thought at the spirit. 'I would like for you to stay here, as my friend,' She sent it the mental image of a fennec fox following her, helping her to perform magic and defeat monsters. 'I could even help you choose a name for yourself.'

She was still feeding it feelings of gratitude, and seeing Asran's strength returning she was truly grateful to the spirit.

[User]
The spirit was surprised this human would willingly form a contract with it? No one did because its kind was considered unruly, and hard to tame. But, at hearing her words and feeling her promise. 'I agree to become your partner. Just dn't go regretting it now.' It then left her body forming a sphere, and then poofed into the form of a white fennec fox with solid ruby red eyes. It looked at her expectantly waiting for her to give it a name.

"Name it, and put your magic into your words. Just like Markus has been teaching you when casting any other spell. By giving it a name it signifies it's connection to you," Asran said smiling.
"Asran! Ayrie's hardly ready to handle a fairy. Let alone a Komundi," Nadia protested. Asran glared at Nadia strongly. "You don't get to argue elf." Nadia's eyes widened, and then looked down ashamed. "We will talk about our history another time. For now, Ayrie, I will help you with this one should they become hard to handle." Then offered a wink, and a smile.

[Assistant]
Ayrie sighed with relief when it left her, and looked at it for several moments trying to decide on a name. Remembering the feeling when it entered her body, she made her decision and smiled. It had been like a concert, the two of them working together to help Asran. Ayrie recalling the memory of the curse and the spirit using that and her power to remove it.

"Your name is Symphony." She said, putting power behind her words and feeling a bond form between them. The fennec stood and walked over to her, settling at her side.

"Don't be too mad at Nadia." Ayrie looked at Asran and smiled, then reached out to touch his arm where the runes had been before. "I'm so thankful that worked."

She then stood up, and almost fell over as she realized her legs were numb from sitting on the floor.

[User] Seeing Ayrie falling Asran easily caught her. "Woah there, don't go fainting on me now. I mean I know I have that affect on ladies, but I mean come on." He smirked as he'd made a joke that it was after checking his body now removal of the curse. Asran was no longer feeling any exhaustion as his mana was now regenerating like it used to. Though the issue was that it was regenerating a little too quickly for his shields to keep up with. So he accidentally zapped Ayrie. Thankfully it was more a small spark than a live wire going off. Asran quickly separated, and chuckled in embarrassment. "Hah, sorry," he said rubbing the back of his head.

[Assistant]
Feeling the shock Ayrie jumped, Symphony growled a little but made no moves, just wanted Asran to know he wouldn't tolerate him hurting Ayrie.

"Well, that's one way to get the feeling back in my legs." Ayrie joked as he let her go. She moved over to the couch and settled down, not really caring much that the room was a wreck after everything that had happened. She felt exhausted, but happy that Asran was going to be okay now. "The priests will be returning soon, they were only going grocery shopping. Though I suppose we can call them ex-priests now, as they will surely be ex-communicated for helping me."

She looked at Wrath, who was visibly relieved at Asran's restoration. Ayrie wasn't sure how she would react to her now, whether she would still hate her for all the suffering Astoria had caused him. The only thing she was truly sure of was her desire to remove the former Angel, now God, from his place in the heavens.


[System]
PERSONNEL FILE

{ KENNEDY GLASS }{ 124918 }

---

General Information
age:// Thirty
birth date:// December 18th
gender:// Male
occupation:// English Lecturer at the University of Portland

---

Biologyheight:// 188cm (6 feet one inches)
weight:// 189 pounds
hair color:// Dark Blonde Hair
eye color:// Blue-Green
tattoos, scars, piercings:// Scar on his top left eyebrow

---

Psychologyability:// Paladin

personality:// Ken used to be a very adventurous and carefree man. At a young age he was heart-broken which lead him to live a very different life than what he had imagined for himself. He was the All-American Quarterback in high school, which gave him a strong sense of entitlement and vanity. He still carries a sense of arrogance with him, but has learned to tone it down just a bit. He is still very confident and cheeky, but has become a lot smoother, still carrying around his boyish charm. With most stereotypes fitting into the old high school star, one thing that evolved with the times was his brain. After a heart break he changed into not only a charming athlete, but a charming, studious one at that, which is how he found a job as a Lecturer. A woman can change a man with any move, Kennedy is a prime example of that.

family history:// * Daniela Alba; Relation: Fiance; Status: Alive; Human; Location: San Antonio, Texas
* Nils Glass; Relation: Father; Status: Alive; Human; Location: Seattle, Washington
* Bleta Anjola-Glass; Relation: Mother; Status: Alive; Human; Location: Seattle, Washington

---

Miscellaneous InformationDaniela was a professor at the University of Portland in the Foreign Language Department, where he met her. Dated for a year before becoming engaged.

Ken is only on speaking terms with his mother. His relationship with his father has always been rocky, started after high school when he entered college.

[User]
Fay

---

"You could've killed someone." The husky voiced doctor said. The words repeated in Fay's mind as she sat on the sofa with one leg over the other, her hands resting on top of her lap. Her breathing was slow and controlled. She stared down at her hands. The same hands that reached out to wave away the scaffolding. The same hands that held Billy as he cried. The same hands Billy was pulled from as his mother was schocked by what Fay had displayed. With the thumb of her left hand, she rubbed over Lee's name on her wrist. She didn't know what this doctor was after, but he was not getting to her. She knew she saved him. She knew she didn't do anything wrong.

For about a year now, they had been trying to break her here at Paragon. She didn't know why, she didn't know how and she didn't know when she would crack. It got harder and harder every day.

"The scaffolding could've hit other people as you carelessly threw it out."

No. She saved him. She did. She looked before she moved the metal pieces out of the way with her powers. She checked. It was the right thing. She looked! She looked.. right?

Fay blinked two times, the tears that were forming quickly went away. No. She didn't do anything wrong. The young teacher brought her hand up to her collar and touched it, wrapping her fingers around it. She had become used to the cold metal, but she couldn't become used to the constant badgering.

"You're wrong." Fay looked up with a smile and dropped down her hand to her lap again. "I saved that boy. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm pretty sure we've passed our time." She stood up and straightened her white t-shirt before putting her hands in the pockets of her grey sweatpants. The doctor sighed. Fay sometimes thought that he knew he wasn't getting anywhere with her.

After saying goodbye, Fay was escorted back to the common room. With her right hand, she ruffled through her curly hair. Her eyes scanned the room for familiar people. She knew most people, and most knew her. Some people greeted her, some smiled at her. Fay was always known to be polite and kind. Even within the walls of Paragon, even towards the employees of Paragon. She walked passed Ivory and waved at her. They'd bonded over books before.

Fay aat down across from her friend, who'd been her even longer than her. They're both teachers, and they somehow connected. "Hey Kennedy." She said with a warm tone and a soft smile on her features as she crossed one leg over the other. "Sage." He too received a smile and a nod from the her.

She heard the chair beside her skid over the floor. Someone sat down beside her and started talking up a storm. She had seen him before. He was a welcome distraction though, as he talked to Victoria and called her Vicky. Fay chuckled, this guy was amusing, although she did feel he could be a tad less mean. Her chin leaned on her palm while her elbow rested on the table. She eyed Kennedy from under her lashes with an amused expression.

[Assistant]
Conrad stood looking intently at the group gathered around the common area table through the 6 inch think ballistic window in the observation area. He had been on the recovery teams that had capture all of them except the professor named Kennedy who was caught only a mere month before he was recruited. He personally didn't enjoy ripping them from society as some of them were quite influential such as the teachers, but duty was duty and there wasn't much he could about that. However, what little battles he could win for them he would take such as pushing for better living accommodations, food and pastime activities. While these improvements were always far spread it helped settle his very troubled conscious.

 "Hey doc", He asked to one of the lead scientists, "What do you think we could do about this pig shit our guests are having to eat?" He looked over his shoulder at the scientist who was clearly a little shocked at the question."W-w-well we can put in a request to the director of this facility I suppose." He said with a little stutter. "How about you get on that then?" Conrad said before turning back to the group. It was a mystery to him how the scientists and doctors seamed to not feel anything for the unlucky few that were held here. Oh well people will be people He thought before turning to head back to his office.

[User]
Kennedy expected as much as he took a seat in the common room that he would soon be joined by the bright youth that Paragon had captured. Tori was the bitter, grim youth that Kennedy had just made the mistake to sit nearby as she made an even grimmer comment about murdering everyone. But knowing better to keep to himself Ken ignored her and her comment up until Sage, the overly confident one arrived, breaking the silence that filled the room. Kennedy didn't mind Sage as he saw a lot of himself in the young man who was about a decade younger. They have had a few conversations before, but it wasn't ever anything too serious as the kid had a strange sense of humor that matched Tori more than Kennedy.

"It's going great," Kennedy said sarcastically. "Today's my anniversary, but of course they forgot, so no flowers." A chuckle escaped his lips as they were soon joined in by Alex, the mouth that never stopped talking.

Whenever Alex entered the common room, people shifted away. It wasn't that he was a bad guy, well in Kennedy's mind he was pretty bad, but it was more so that he just talked and rambled on and on. Kennedy sat quietly and respectfully as he tapped away at the table listening, but really counting in his head, to Alex's story yet again. Most of the things that the ass of a nerd said went in one ear of Ken's and out the other as he quickly learned. It was to Kennedy's surprise though that the whole time he was blabbering away Alex had managed to eat all of the mashed up food that Paragon provided for them, upsetting his own stomach with the thought of him digesting that day's lunch.

The last one to join the conversation that Kennedy didn't really want any part of was the fellow bright, youthful educator, Fay. For some reason the woman never lost her humanity and genuine kindness, something that confused Kennedy. They were all captured and being poked and prodded with needles, being used for endless tests, but she still smiled warmly to everyone, even the doctors and orderlies. The professor nodded, half-smiling back at the woman returning her welcome to him.

"Looking lively as ever, Fay." Kennedy said. His eyes then moved to scan the rest of the room as it was filled with other patients. Of course he knew most, having talked to them at least once, but that didn't always mean he himself was on good terms with them all.

His sights stopped at Ivory. She was a young and pretty, but like most she was dangerous with her powers. It was rumored that she had killed a lot of Paragon's men when they tried to capture her, something that each person had a tale of their own about. She kept her distance, but Kennedy felt the need to reach out. Maybe it was his teacherly or fatherly instincts, but of course it wasn't the time or place for that anymore.

As his eyes moved on it came across another man. He stood hunched away from the rest of the group near a corner of the room. His name was Roger and he had been captured for about a month or so longer than Kennedy. He was an Apostle, who was rumored to have visions from time to time even though he had his collar like the rest of them. It was whispered that there were maybe about two or three people who could still somehow use their abilities even though they had their collars on which inhibited most others from using theirs. Roger continued to walk back and forth muttering inaudible words but soon his mutters became shouts.

"We have to go soon." Roger murmured as he waved his hands frantically in the air. "We will run and hide, but we must wait until the time is right! We will be freed soon!"

Kennedy slowly stood up from his seat, trying to catch the words coming from Roger's mouth, but the man was quickly silenced as the orderlies reacted the instant Roger's hands rose up and began waving in the air. Two large orderlies grabbed a hold of the older apostle and forced him out of the common room as he was beginning to cause a scene. There were a few others who had reacted to Roger's words too other than Kennedy, but they all quickly sat back down and returned to their normal spots and demeanor in the room not wanting to cause any attention to themselves either.

Kennedy's eyes were glued onto the door that the orderlies had taken Roger out to. Maybe his murmurs were some kind of sign from a vision he had? Kennedy wanted to believe that there was more to them than just sitting with Paragon for the rest of their lives, but there wasn't any way to prove otherwise.

"Sit down, Mr. Glass." One of the orderlies who was left in the room stated.

Ken knew what he needed to do. He needed to find a way to talk to Roger and find out what kind of vision he had. Turning to face the voice with a fake smile, the professor nodded in obedience as he took his seat at the table with his friends.


[System]
(Similar to this, minus the royal attire and floating hair and glowing eyes.)
Alias: Abaddon

Alignment: Antihero (if needed he can be geared to playing as a villain)

Age: 18 (Casimir considers his age to be irrelevant now since he's technically stopped aging ever since he became Abaddon)

Background: There's no dramatic story to Casimir's life barring the fact he had the wonderful and riveting experience of getting caught in a violent explosion (set off by a villain no less). There's no joke about that as he'd tell you, and he was pretty much on the verge of death considering he began to find himself in a place that was clearly otherworldly. Ironically, it was here on the brink of death where his life would be changed forever. He was approached by a supernatural entity known as Drevenon, but as terrifying and powerful as it looked it seemed to be in pretty bad shape, much like he was. The entity proposed that the two bond together to avoid their doom, and also promised an ascension above his human nature and the acquisition of power that would make many tremble before him. Although he wasn't in any real position to inquire or bargain, Casimir was more than glad to accept Drevenon's offer. Why? Because even though there was no tremendous history to him, he has always held a wonder and strong envy of metahumans. Casimir felt inferior to them and hated the fact that he would either need to rely on them for protection as heroes, or be completely at their mercy as villains. On top of that, Casimir had always believed in the concepts of justice, vengeance, and punishment, but felt that they were never dealt properly by the established law and vigilante superheroes.
And so the two became one, and in his new, alternate form, Casimir called himself Abaddon. Drevenon's promise of power and fear came true as he quickly caught the attention of superheroes and villains alike with his bloody "hunts" for criminals and sadistic and terrifying battles against his enemies. Many of the city's heroic guilds pursued him at first because of this, but they eventually deemed him to fight for their cause of justice. Even then however... Abaddon's presence left its mark on some guilds who remain fearful and wary of him regardless.
As for Drevenon, it (or "he", as it is a masculine entity) is a powerful being from a place known as the Tenevric Realms, a vast and nightmarish expanse. He was more or less its primary ruler, but was challenged, usurped, and exiled by a being named Atahorr. Needing to survive, Drevenon chose Casimir as his host, and the two eventually ventured into the dark realms to take vengeance upon the Usurper Lord and prevent him from fulfilling his plan of extending his lordship to Earth's realm. Trekking through this place was no easy task, but it served as the perfect training grounds for Abaddon to truly hone his abilities. As the turmoil in Earth's realm increased because of Atahorr's influence, Abaddon eventually came to him and did battle. Hard fought and terrible, he prevailed and cast Atahorr into a torturous abyss of his new kingdom and ensured he would stay there for a nice, long while. He has since named the Tenevric Realms "Sheol", and uses it to imprison and torture his foes (or anything brought to him for "safekeeping").
Personality: Even as Abaddon, he's got a kind of silly personality that would be much more charming if it wasn't ruined by his completely twisted behavior. Sadistic, Abaddon enjoys hunting down his prey and always devises gruesome ways to fight, torture, and kill his targets.
When he's not being an all out psycho though, Abaddon (or in this case, Casimir) can be rather likeable barring the occasional morbid joke and ever present sly and proud behavior he has going on. For the most part, he acts his age and enjoys many of the same things most teenagers do.

Powers:
---Ascended Nature: Abaddon has had all of his physical and perceptive capabilities increased to superhuman levels, allowing him to be on par with many of the more physically oriented superhumans around. His increased perceptions make him excellent at sensing approaching threats and planning out attacks, which coupled with his physical skills, makes him a deadly foe to fight up close. He has a vast understanding of the arcane and supernatural, and is sought out in secret by certain groups or individual mages wishing to increase their knowledge and power over darker things.
Abaddon can survive in harsh or inhospitable environments, as he is now no longer exactly tied to the laws and limits of his humanity.
Partially non-corporeal, he is very resilient and can take large amounts of punishment. Abaddon is capable of spawning extra limbs and appendages from his body, and can also create or morph parts of his body into simple weapons such as blades and hammers. He can manipulate his entire being as well, becoming "liquid shadow", an amorphous and slithering form. While his ascended nature is impressive on its own, Abaddon's true strengths lie in his use of dark magic.
---The Devourer's Wrath: This is Abaddon's most powerful and signature power. It is an overwhelming crimson energy that is capable of deteriorating and destroying anything it comes into contact with, even things which are thought to be nigh indestructible. However, as everything has different levels of resilience, the time it takes to break down and destroy these things varies. Magical and natural energies, as well as supernatural entities, are especially vulnerable to the Devourer's Wrath as it can taint, degrade, and destroy them the longer they are exposed to it. (Note: A living being exposed to the crimson power IS capable of resisting destruction, but it is extremely painful to endure nonetheless and it will eventually begin to consume them). The Devourer's Wrath can be projected in a few different forms such as a simple stream of energy, orbs, lightning, or aura. Abaddon can channel it through himself to infuse his physical attacks with extra power too. The crimson power can also be used in a more defensive manner too, becoming a strong shield or surrounding aura that can absorb most attacks and takes quite a beating before it dissipates.
---Tartarean Aura: Different from the auras produced by the Devourer's Wrath, the Tartarean Aura is a powerful aura of fear. Abaddon can choose how strong the fear he inspires with his presence can be, and it can range from simple uneasiness to downright terror and despair. With it he can coax out the greatest fears of those around him, and once he has learned what those are, Abaddon can make those fears a very real manifestation.
---Tenevric Lordship: This section of Abaddon's powers is the most broad and diverse category. As lord over Sheol, Abaddon is always aware of what goes on within his realm. He can travel to and from it at will and is even able to use it as a nexus to travel into different realms outside of it and Earth. Ruling over its denizens, he can summon reinforcements from Sheol be they individual monsters and abominations to armies of demon soldiers (a feat of this magnitude will of course take some time and much effort). He is also able to manipulate Sheol's landscape, meaning he can do things such as completely change its layouts or use the treacherous environment to his advantage.
By merging parts of Sheol with portions of the reality of a realm he is in, Abaddon can warp those affected portions into nightmarish versions of themselves. Nightmares and aberrations from Sheol and from the minds of those caught within can manifest themselves then, and Abaddon can control the warped environment (albeit on a lesser scale).
Tenevric Lordship ties into Abaddon's knowledge over the arcane and supernatural. He has access to all sorts of powerful spells and magics, and knows the secrets to many obscure and dark rituals and arts such as necromancy.

Weaknesses: Abaddon has strange and strong aversion to extreme heat, fire, and powerful sounds. He hates being exposed to them because they can actually weaken and hurt him, gravely too if exposed long enough. The same applies to light and holy magic.
Since he is still just a teenager, he is prone to getting cocky and careless with all his power, and such moments can be easy openings for those who know how to exploit them.

Cake? Tres Leches is the shit.

[User]
Cinia finished her assault with the giant whale creature as it was ripped to shreds by Greg. "Right then, onto those guys!" Cinia said as she pointed towards another group of enemies. Greg stomped on many of the weaker foes as the others got buy just fine. Cinia meanwhlie was dodging lasers shot at her in the air. She was able to dodge most of them, but eventually she was shot out of the sky and flew towards Thesseldr. Greg still struggling with other creatures.

Linia in the meantime continued her assault against what looked to be a rather large group of shark men now, each of them with their own pikes from the look of it. Linia was starting to get overwhelmed now. She flashed every now and then to give herself a bit of an advantage over them. Eventually, though she was getting progressivly more damaged the more she fought.

Zelan ordered his troops from one spot to another. He was certainly a leader, and due to him being there morale among his troops were huge. "We will take the land! Make them pay for what they have done to our home!!" Zelan screamed, his troops cheered as they continued to fight. They were certainly loyal. Zelan had taken down two supers at this point, neither of them stood a chance as they were just lowly vigilantes. Zelan was moving closer and closer to the center of the city. He was now at the head of his troops leading a charge past barricades placed.

[Assistant]
Your pathetic armors are useless before us!

Abaddon swung his arms repeatedly at the sea creatures, unleashing volley after volley of dark magical spears upon their numbers. It didn't even matter if they hit their mark or not, all that he cared about was breaking up their formations to make it easier to pick them off. He was making progress, with some of the troops getting skewered and others scattering out of place for cover. Thasseldar could deal with the runaways... or rather he could have if it weren't for that giant goddamned sea serpent! That thing was getting to be a pain in the ass really really fast, and the longer it lived, the more destruction it caused. There was also the matter of those fish men with special abilities; they had mounted their counter attacks against him, firing off beams of energy and casting magic which exploded around him to ensure some damage was done even if he dodged it. Abaddon needed a new way to deal with these guys...

"Oh, right, I can do that."

What he was planning would surely instill chaos within their orders. Abaddon spread his claws apart from each other, a dark tear in space appearing in front of him as he did this. An increasingly loud buzzing noise could be heard from it.

"Come, children of my swarm!"

The moment he uttered these words, a dense swarm of demonic locusts came pouring forth from the portal. These were larger and much different than ordinary locusts (no shit), possessing scorpion tails, clawed feet, and vaguely humanoid faces with mouths lined with sharp teeth. With a ravenous hunger they flew towards their masters attackers, washing over them and obscuring them from vision. The fish men screamed in pain and terror as they were viciously stabbed, scratched, and bitten.

"You know what's probably even scarier about these little guys," Abaddon laughed as he took to the skies to observe their work, "They can get bigger!"

And that they could. Of course, Abaddon wouldn't release such monstrosities into the world for something as simple as this. Maybe a few, like three or four just to fuck with people, but never a full on swarm...

...

The locusts continued to swarm over the advancing troops, Abaddon orchestrating their movements from above. Even the sea serpent was attacked, although it was not so easily brought down by the swarm. At the very least it was being hurt and distracted, giving Thasseldar an easier time to deal with it. Plus, the amount of sea creatures trying to overrun them was being lessened by the locusts, but even their numbers began to dwindle as the fish men began to vaporize them.

Abaddon soon caught sight of Linia slashing furiously at attacking sea creatures. She was keeping them at bay, but it was only a matter of time before she got run over, and she looked to be getting hurt and winded the more she fought.

"... He's a Realmswalker, he can handle himself. Locusts! Aid my ally!"

With that Abaddon flew to Linia's location (which wasn't really too far away from where he was), taking a part of the swarm with him. Once there, he ordered them to attack the monsters there. Though this portion of locusts wasn't nearly as large enough as to overrun a large group, it was enough to help Linia get some breathing room. Abaddon himself landed on the ground and repeated what he had done earlier in the same situation, causing lightning to arc through their enemies' bodies.

"Still think I'm here to kill you all?" He laughed.

[User]
Thasseldar looked as Abaddon went off to another section of the city.

"Wonderful. Serpant and crew, coming right up..." by now, they were just down the block and rapidly approaching the lone figure on the road.

There is... one thing...

He attempted to telepathically communicate with Abaddon. It worked one way in that Thasseldar did not have the ability naturally, but someone such as Abaddon would pick it up. Hopefully.

I would like for you to create an invisible, linkless portal directly in front of the largest cluster of enemies you are engaged with facing in their direction. I'll do the rest.

With that in mind, Thasseldar created a portal just as he described in front of him. The difficulty could come if Abaddon didn't create a portal in his section, because what he was about to do counted on good timing and possibly luck. If it failed, well, he would have to redirect the link to some desolate part of the sea before he was crushed by the bodies that would make it through the empty space before it was active...

[Assistant]
Abaddon picked up Thasseldar's message as he fought. A linkless portal huh? Abaddon didn't even know if he could create such a thing as he had only ever used portals to travel to Sheol and other dimensions. He attempted it, only for the head of a fully grown demon locust to emerge and attempt to crawl its way out. He ordered it back immediately and closed the rift.

"Well that worked well..."

Maybe there was one thing that could still be done to put Thasseldar's plan into motion. Abaddon scanned the rooftops for Shiro and spotted him acting as support from above. Hopefully the teleporter would listen and not just think he was there to continue their fight.

"You, an ally of mine has a plan for dealing with the battalions en masse. He needs you to create an 'invisible, linkless portal' before the largest group of soldiers there is! Hurry, he doesn't have much time."


[System]
19Class:
Pegasus KnightWeapons:
Iron LanceFighting Style:
Can for the most part be summed up as "Move fast and break things", charging with his pegasus and stabbing things with his lance at high speeds.Personality:
Fairly friendly, though he always looks like there's a bit of sadness behind his eyes. He is cautious about trusting people, but he is just as cautious in trusting himself. He holds himself to a set of moral lines he refuses to cross.He tends to offer his opinion even when it's not asked for, especially on topics he feels strongly about.History:
Dylan was born as a bastard child of a (relatively) rich ranch owner that bought and sold trans-nationally, though he was technically in Bravura. He was lucky enough not to be disowned by his father, but he lived with his mother and his twin sister instead of with his father, who never played a major role in his life besides providing his mother with a job and home. Both Dylan and his sister were good with the farm animals, especially the horses and pegasi. When Dylan 10, one day after another, their father gave them one of his best pegasus colts, a surprising and unexpected gift. The pegasus was named Andromeda, due to an offhand joke from one of the other helpers on the ranch that the colt had the potential to fly above the stars.

For the next seven years, they took good care of the colt, and Dylan discovered he had a talent for riding pegasi, and he joined a small mail-carrying business for a time, enjoying the trips around his home country, and often taking his sister with. However, at some point, a band of rogues attacked him and his sister while they were resting for the night between deliveries. They killed his sister, but Dylan and his pegasus managed to get away mostly unharmed. He still feels like it was his fault his sister had died, and he had suspicions that the rogues that had killed her were actually very unfortunate refugees from the warfront with Panoply.

After this incident, Dylan began teaching himself how to fight, though he didn't join the army in fear of leaving his mother alone in her time of grief. He used his savings to buy a lance- he had heard this was a weapon common to those who fought on pegasi- and he taught himself to fight while atop Andromeda. Stabbing makeshift dummies he had made himself while both he and his horse were wearing cheap armor, unbeknownst to his mother of course. He never had any formal teacher however, and so his skill is effectively limited to charging and stabbing sloppily. It was during this time that Dylan began calling himself by his mother's family name instead of his father's.

Upon hearing of the reclaimers, Dylan wanted to attempt to join immediately, however his mother refused to let him join, as she had already lost one child and didn't wish to lose the other. This didn't stop Dylan from training more in his free time however, and in his mailman job, he offered to take more of the ones that would take him near the front, hoping he would get to meet the Reclaimers, and possibly show enough promise that they would invite him into their ranks. How could he turn them down if that happened?Rationale:
Dylan feels like ending the war, or at least helping end the war, would honor his sister and give him repentance for not doing more to stop her from dying.Appearance:
Standing at 5'11", Dylan is lightly built, lean but he does have some muscle tone. His hair is a unique white-silver color, and his eyes are a light sky-blue color. His skin is very white, due to the fact he has to wear a lot of clothing when flying at high altitudes, which he spends a lot of his time doing. He usually wears layers of clothing that he can easily take off or put on to stay warm. His riding is moderately sloppy, but he can keep himself on a pegasus during a rough ride. When bored, or anxious, he can be seen tapping his fingers on whatever his hand is resting on.

[User] Dylan --- Blood Stained Field Dylan took a moment to realize initially he was being talked to, he had phased himself out, daydreaming, and hadn't really noticed what was around him. When he did, he had to keep himself from vomiting, and he focused on Hugh's words to do so. Next their tactician, Gaius if he remembered correctly, began talking. Once he finished, Dylan spoke up. "I can carry a second person, so long as they're not too heavy, so I could take Gaius with me. But if we get into a scrape while we're scouting, I won't be able to maneuver very well until he got off." The Pegasus rider moved up next to Gaius and offered his hand to him to help him up. "But unless we end up surrounded, I'll probably be able to get out of there intact. There was never a man or horse born that could outrun a Pegasus, especially through a field like th-this one." He'd look over at Gaius once he was on, and he gave a short lesson as to staying on Andromeda before taking off. He stayed fairly close to the ground, ready to go up higher or fly behind some trees if someone were to suddenly attack while he did his scouting run, giving the tactician a view of as much of the area as possible.

[Assistant]
Sanguin, Westroad Village

In surprisingly short order, the scouts returned. They reported few to no anomalies in the terrain that might derail the general plan. Around these parts, what wasn't riverside delta was smooth, rolling, forested hills. No large rocks had been spotted, and if there were any happenstance crevices or bolt holes in the area around where the enemy was gathered, they were both small and well-hidden beneath the trees. As Hugh sounded the five-minute watch, soldiers raced here and there to secure their gear and prepare to fight. Sanguin studied her scimitar, shield, and armor, poring over each for deficiencies that would require a last-minute preparation. Finding nothing she could fix in the allotted time, the myrmidon made her way to the front of the Bravuran camp, from where the Reclaimers would ride to war.

"Ready..." Sanguin heard the knight captain's voice. "Go!"

She took off running, racing across the grass, not at her top speed but at a sustainable one. Her first objective was to get to the nearest copse; after that, she'd move with her allies to the second one and wait for Taene, Kel, and Dylan to flush the enemy from the top of their hill. Around Sanguin were some of the other lightly-armored soldiers, including the mages. More encumbered warriors, those lacking horses at least, brought up the rear. Regardless, the whole army crossed the open grass, navigating past corpses from the recent battle and avoiding patches of mud. The river skirting the base of the hill, when approached, proved to be significantly less wide than it had appeared from afar—likely the sun reflecting off its liquid surface that had made it look bigger. Just as Sanguin was hopping over it, a mere fifty feet from the small patch of trees that was her second target, there was a cacophonous noise from the top of the hill. It was a mixture of neighing, crackling ice, roaring fire, and the panicked yells of men and women. Over the top of the hill, the enemy appeared: about fifteen assorted people appeared, garbed in brown clothing and dark gray armor. They rushed down the hill, fleeing from lance point, sheer cold, and searing heat. One of the archers, however, turned and loosed an arrow at the manakete.

The foes were immediately aware of the Reclaimers' presence, however, as not all were lying in wait in an ambush. From the back, Hugh roared an order: attack, but try to capture some alive. The battle had begun with the Reclaimers at a slight disadvantage due to their lower elevation.

[User]
Watching the top of the hill, Jakobe took a deep breath as the sounds of combat while he raced forward. As the enemy crossed the top of the hill, he readied his halberd, eyes narrowing at his intended target: the archers. As always, they served to impose a major disadvantage on the Reclaimers' aerial units, which was an unacceptable disadvantage. Fighting uphill, as well, put him at a loss when it came to the host of enemies. There were a number of things tactically serving these mysterious enemies, but Jakobe had one thing they didn't.

The best damned warhorse he'd ever seen.

Letting out a massive bellowing cry, Jakobe charged into the host of enemies, swinging his halberd at the archer who'd loosed an arrow at Kaene. Not many people had the resolve to stand firm in the face of a charging warhorse and its rider, but this archer was one of them. Rather than cowering or panicking, the robed person instead used their bow to deflect the haft of Jakobe's halberd, before nocking another arrow and firing it at the mounted soldier. The projectile flew past, missing both rider and mount, causing Jakobe to curse and turn in preparation for another attack run.

[Assistant]
Jeanne Robina -- In Which The Thief Learns that Charging Up a Hill Occupied by Two Axe-Toting Men is Probably a Terrible Idea

---

Jeanne silently took Kuur's remark as a sarcastic one; plainly this was a war zone. That's why the Reclaimers were there in the first place.

Jeanne surveyed the terrain; apparently the fact that they were on lower ground hindered them somewhat in terms of firing range, movement range, et cetera. The hills caused even the nimble thief some consternation.

"I'm more accustomed to flying across the treetops. I don't do slants," Jeanne muttered.

I have to get to higher ground as quickly as possible, she thought. Glancing up at the fighters, an idea flashed through her head. "That'll do."

The thief deftly drew her sword and ran off to the side, bounding through the grass, the soles of her shoes digging into the damp dirt.

However, these fighters seemed well aware of the advantage that swords have over axes, and had prepared a suitable counter. The fighter closest to Jeanne saw her coming and hurled his axe at her.

Jeanne's eyes widened and she immediately crumpled to the ground, rolling along the grass as the axe barely whistled past her scalp. That was a horrible idea! Jeanne chided herself. Kicking her legs out, she got back up only to have to dodge another swing from the other fighter as the first rushed to recover his axe.

Jeanne stuck her leg out to trip the first fighter, but when she got back up, the fighter whacked her in the side of the head, causing her to reel back and roll down the hill. Thank the gods that wasn't a concussion, Jeanne thought to herself. She felt something warm trickling down the side of her head. It was her blood. "Damn, those dastards are devilishly deft," Jeanne muttered. "I've got to step it up."

The thief knew that the Reclaimers had a disadvantage; perhaps it would do better to force them to engage closer to them.

Jeanne turned tail and attempted to return to the rest of the Reclaimers, but upon looking back she saw not one but both Fighters chasing after her. She cursed under her breath before twisting around and running back towards them. The one who threw the axe didn't expect Jeanne to spin right around and attack, and took a pretty nasty wound in the chest. Jeanne then whirled to the other Fighter, but their blades merely clanged against each other. Jeanne stepped back as the first Fighter staggered to his feet, hefting his axe and breathing heavily.

Jeanne woozily stumbled back down the hill, one of the fighters still chasing after her. "Habeen! Get this beefy buffoon off my back!" Jeanne hollered, pressing a hand against her bleeding forehead. The mage turned and without a word cast Mire to get the man's focus off of the thief. Mire, unfortunately, missed, but it did distract the fighter's gaze long enough for Jeanne to hack at his axe arm in a swift motion and scamper back down the hill.

"Remind me never to risk frontal assault again," Jeanne muttered, sitting next to the folk magician and quaffing one of her three servings of Vulnerary. The bleeding on her head ceased.

"A valiant effort," Habeen said.

"Oh, be quiet," Jeanne grumbled, rubbing her head where the fighter had struck her. "It looks like they have the higher ground, and I don't know if they intend to charge down anytime soon. So maybe we can spur them prematurely into action by taking out their ranged fighters. That'd save everybody else a headache," she suggested. "Such as mine," she added.

"Ought you to tell Hugh? He is our leader, after all," Habeen asked.

"Well, you're the one with the long-range slime magic," Jeanne replied.

"He might have use for a suggestion like that," Habeen remarked.

"True. Perhaps I ought to point out our predicament and potential fix to the good knight," the thief said, before running and attempting to grab Hugh's attention.

"Hugh, I am certainly no tactician, but I quickly learned that a frontal assault would earn me a nasty nick to the noggin," Jeanne explained. "Undoubtedly, those two feisty fighters saw me coming with my blade drawn, and it looks like they can afford to take their sweet time before the playing field is level. Do you think we might coerce them to abandon their higher ground should we eliminate those on their side with ranged weaponry?" she suggested.

[User]
Dylan Caercot Dylan was unsure as ever when he was getting in position to attack. He had no idea how well this was going to work, nor did he have any idea how well he would do at this. He was new to the whole fighting thing, and he had only ever practiced on wooden dummies. Never people or things that could move. Much less things that could fight back. But he launched right into an attack the second the signal was given, but he let the dragon and the wyvern rider get into it just a little ahead of him, since they obviously had a good deal more training than Dylan did. Once the battle was on its way, the Pegasus rider found himself facing off with a man armed with a spear, clearly confident in his ability to take down a man riding a Pegasus. Or he was able to see how new Dylan was to this, and wished to take advantage of it.

Regardless, the soldier's first attack came no where near the Pegasus or it's rider, as Dylan saw it coming and pulled Andromeda out of the way. He then attempted to attack back, giving his all into a powerful stab aimed at his opponent's chest. The blow, to his amazement, landed. But instead of running the soldier through, it only pierced his shoulder. The man attacked again once he managed to pull away from the hit, and this time his stab cut into Dylan's retreating shoulder, causing him to yell out. While he had been cut before by sharp objects, this hurt far more than anything Dylan had ever experienced. Despite this, Dylan steeled himself against the pain and attacked again, stabbing downwards at the soldier a second time. However, this time the Soldier managed to avoid the attack, and Dylan almost fell off the Pegasus avoiding the counterattack. This man clearly had more practice in a fight then Dylan had ever had, and he gritted his teeth as he prepared to attack again. He was only barely managing to ignore the pain in his shoulder.


[System]
"And I get up because it is the only thing I can do."

---

---
Nickname:
Rose, because it is a shorten version of his name and because of his occupation. Although Ambrose prefers if only close friends referred to him this way, as the nickname has been used in a mean-spirited manner many times

Date of Birth:
October 31st 1995

Age:
21

Gender:
Male

Sexuality:
Homosexual

Relationship Status:
Single

Hometown:
Detroit, Michigan

Ethnicity:
Biracial - white father and African American mother

In Depth Appearance:
Ambrose has a slender figure, and stands at a mere 5'5'' and has a sort of a baby face. However everything on him is a lean muscle, toned from years of track team and regular running. His skin is a tawny brown, with deep gold undertones. He doesn't have the best posture though, and is often slouched in attempt appear smaller and be less noticeable in general. Ambrose has a pair of deep hazel eyes, framed with dark thick lashes. His hair is a deep black with soft curls that rest on his forehead. His skin splattered with dark freckles, across his cheeks and back, and he has several small scars on his upper thighs as well as a couple deep, ugly scars on his torso.

The young man has no tattoos, although he has a couple in mind he wants to get someday. But he does sport a small septum piercing, other then that, Ambrose is pretty bare in terms of body modifications. He tends to wear monotone clothes, mostly black and grey with only pastel colors like mint green occasionally. The clothing pieces are usually loose and comfortable, although Ambrose is always seen wearing his favorite pair of high tops sneakers.

Hobbies:
◘ Painting
◘ Photography
◘ Film Reviewing
◘ Running in the early morning for exercise

Magical Affinity:
A new-comer to the magic scene, Ambrose is inexperienced and unsure of his abilities. But he is still a natural and a fast learner for the art. He seems to showing an affinity towards the natural and physical magics.

Habits:
◘ Pulls all-nighters to finish a particular painting, messes up his sleep schedule for a week and barely functions on coffee the entire time
◘ Extremely fidgety, especially when anxious
◘ Doodling on every piece of paper he gets his hands on
◘ Smoking (Although this is a rare thing to witness as he only indulges when he is particularly stressed)

Likes:
◘ Confusing art films
◘ Plants
◘ Dancing
◘ Rain and Thunderstorms
◘ Snails
◘ Indie/Alternative music

Dislikes:
◘ Crowded Rooms
◘ High-pressure situations or high-expectations
◘ Airplanes/Airports
◘ Elitist Attitudes
◘ Bigotry in general
◘ People flaking on plans/promises. It's a real pet peeve of his

Fears:
◘ Fear of heights
◘ Fear of tight/small spaces
◘ Fear of running into the law

Personality:
The first impression Ambrose makes on people, is a small guy who seems timid and socially uncomfortable. And this is true for the most part. Ambrose naturally shies away from the spot-light and likes instead to observe people from a distance (one of his favorite past times is people watching). He is a naturally anxious and cautious person, leading him to be un-trusting and suspicious of other people's motives. Most people who speak to him for the first time are met a with a guarded and tense conversation. Yet despite this Ambrose is more a follower and is easily pressured into activities he would't have otherwise done himself. He is truly a fish out of water in the academy life, an outsider, so he hasn't made any new friends yet.

Because of his introversion, Ambrose is more focused on his own pursuits instead of relationships, like painting and photography. Both of which are passions he hopes to turn into a career someday. He is incredibly invested in the arts, but he is too afraid to quit his day job for a full-time career as an artist. He spends almost all of his free time painting, and has even had a couple successful art shows. Yet overall, Ambrose is still naive and unsure of how to further his skills and network successfully to make his break into the industry.

Despite his initial prickly exterior, Ambrose is quite affectionate to the ones who have earned his trust. A little emotionally needy, he is eager to please those have captured his affections. Ambrose has the habit of putting others before him, often neglecting himself for days on end. Yet romantic partners of Ambrose are disappointed with someone who is afraid of both emotional intimacy and commitment.

Ambrose also has an unexpected wild side, this is something he tries to hide the most as it has gotten him into many sticky situations. It really only comes out with drinking or anything else like that. When he is like this, he is more willing to take risks and tell people how he really feels. This is probably when he is at his funniest, sarcastic and even a bit flirty.

Background:
Ambrose grew up in a cramped apartment, in the inner city that was wracked with poverty and crime. It was a daily part of his environment, to be unsure of if he would get dinner, and if he would even be safe considering the criminal activity. An only child with neglectful parents with a father who took his anger out on his family and a mother who drowned her sorrows with alcohol. They weren't really completely evil people, but they shouldn't have been parents. Ambrose had to grow up on his own, and his only escape from reality was through the arts.

 But as he grew to adolescence, he became painfully aware of the expectations around him. To have a reliable job, to be tough and masculine, and so on. This, combined with involvement with the "bad kids", Ambrose fell down a slippery slope of petty crime. Eager to prove himself among his peers, the teenager began to deal drugs and even took part in a few (unarmed) robberies. He never had the intention to hurt people, and viewed it as a way to get cash for food and other basic essentials. But Ambrose also began nursing a drug addiction, thanks to easy access and pressure from his "friends".

Ambrose barely graduated from high school, and with rapidly deteriorating health, he soon realized he needed to take a good hard look at himself. He was a shell of the person he used to be, malnourished and a lost purpose in life. Ambrose knew he didn't want this life, and he knew he didn't want this life. So one day, he just got up and left. He forced himself to go cold turkey, he forced himself to face horrible withdrawals and cut ties with everyone from his old life. To them, Ambrose was now dead. He moved to a small town in Michigan and landed a job in a entry-level position in a florist shop. The owner noticed his hard-work and eye for design and with training, Ambrose was promoted to a florist. He has now worked there for a year, and has also been sober for a year.

Up to this point, Ambrose was ignorant of his abilities and of the magic world. His life seemed to be back on track until he was swept into the world by accidentally witnessing a magical act late one night. Bewildered, he was hauled off to Blackbrick academy to have his memory erased of the incident. At the mercy of the Magicians, Ambrose was given a test of his magic skill on a mere whim of the headmaster. To everyone's astonishment, he passed, demonstrating an innate ability just now awakened. With that, Ambrose was accepted into the college. Amrbose decided to attend, a promise of free higher education and access to an entire magical world was too good a deal to pass up. Ambrose is still unsure how to register everything that has happened, but he is excited for what the future holds.

Miscellaneous:
N/A

[User] Ambrose tapped his foot impatiently as the phone rang, fidgeting with a stain on his pants. Finally a hesitant voice on the end called out a tentative "hello". Ambrose was silent for a moment, throat dry and his mind blank. But he regained his bearings and huffed, standing up to pace back and forth. "Er, hi. This is um Ambrose, from earlier today... Samantha gave me this number?" He said uncertainly, unsure if he even had the right person on the end of the line. "I was invited to the party tonight and well... I was wondering about it. Not sure where it is or even when it starts." Ambrose admitted with a huff, finally he stopped his babbling to wait for the reply with baited breath.

[Assistant]
Listening to Ambrose talk on the phone was interesting. He didn't want to interrupt him, he just wanted to hear him talk, but as he listened he could tell how uncertain Ambrose was with the entire experience. Caleb was an upperclassman and Ambrose was a freshman. It was easy to get overwhelmed with BlackBrick. There was so much to do, so much to learn and final exams were hell. Caleb recalled seeing the library at capacity when it came to final exams and remembered having to take his books to his room to study. He had to admit he wouldn't be where he is now in his experience with magic had it not been for the Headmaster taking an interest in his learning. Caleb was well versed with his use of spells and was still learning. There was a moment when he didn't hear anything come through the phone and figured Ambrose had finished talking.

"Oh hey Ambrose, it's Caleb," Caleb said with a smile that he hoped Ambrose could hear in his tone, "yea Samantha does that a lot, but I'm glad you called. I'm always here to help," Caleb added remembering his promise to himself. He closed his eyes and exhaled lightly before continuing, "The party is tonight around 9 pm for the early goes or 10 if you wanna start late. It's off campus so you'd have to know how to travel or apparate. Traveling spells aren't that hard. I can show you if you want? If you don't want to go alone, just meet me and Sam in my dorm, room 702 in the upperclassman dorm at 7:30."

Caleb stopped talking and wondered if he was being too forward or crossing too many lines. He waited patiently for a response from Ambrose.

[User]
Ambrose breathed a sigh of relief as he finally finished his blabbering. But he tensed up as Caleb's voice seeped through the phone. He had honestly expected the perky Samantha picking up. But honestly, he should have expected something like this. And for some reason the trickery didn't upset him like most situations would. It felt more like a favor.

Ambrose listened carefully, taking in each detail that was heard through the receiver. The voice was silky, and felt like a smile was behind it. It sounded like he paused to sigh lightly, and a small shiver was sent down Ambrose's spine as he imagined Caleb, eyes closed and mouth slightly ajar. But failing to notice Caleb had finished his offer, Ambrose had remained silent for almost a full minute.

"Oh! Um, yeah sounds good, I guess I'll see you then. Bye." He blurted and abruptly hung up the phone, panting. Why was he so flustered? Ambrose stood there by the fountain, pondering it before deciding that it didn't matter. Shaking the black curls out of his eyes, Ambrose started off towards his dorm. He wondered if he even had anything suitable for a party setting.

[timeskip to 7:30?]

[Assistant]
7:30 PM Monday - Time to Party!

Time seemed to quicken its pace as Caleb lingered in the common room of the dormitory. He was excited. This was the first party of the semester and they were always worth the time. He had been practicing spells and studying lore through various books, but he hadn't expected time to fly by as he sat there maneuvering his hands and producing various charms. When his phone started beeping, he looked at it with a smirk. It was 7:30, the party would be starting in just an hour and a half. That meant he had to start getting ready soon. He already knew Sam would be knocking at his door by 8:30, but he didn't know what time Ambrose would show up, and he would rather not be in a compromising position when he arrived.

Standing to his feet, he scurried off to his dorm. Stripping of his clothes he jumped into the shower and allowed the warm water to cascade over his nude form as he began to apply product to the sponge that Samantha got him for his birthday last year. It was amazing. It exfoliated the skin and left a slight glow. As he showered, he began to sing, allowing his voice to filter out of his room and into the hallway of the dormitory.

[User]
He pulled the comb through his curls for the hundredth time, and again failing to make the hair atop his head any tidier looking. Finally he sighed and glared into the mirror, spending a few moments cursing his looks before he realized the time. "Oh shit!" He cursed to hmself as he hopped up out of his chair, gathering his phone and keys. He ignored the glance of disapproval from his roommate, pretending he didn't notice the glare. He had too much on his mind to worry about that.

The clock clicked 7:30 PM as Ambrose came up upon the upperclassmen dorm. Voices could be heard from inside as Ambrose pushed in, making his way past crowds of older students conversing among themselves. They played little attention to the freshmen, only sparing one disinterested glance before turning back to their own business. Ambrose stepped up along the stairs, down the hallway before he stopped in front of the 702 dorm room. Faint singing could be heard drifting from inside, and against his better judgment Ambrose knocked before creaking the unlocked door open.

He poked his head in before allowing himself fully inside the room. "Hello?" He called out softly, but was only answered the pattering of water from the bathroom. From which steam drifted from the cracks of the bathroom door. "This is Caleb's room right?"


[System]
Species:
"Far too tall to be a Dwarf, ears too blunt to be an Elf, and nowhere near hairy enough to be a Leveret. Oh, and solid, so no slime. Human it is then!"

Gender:
"Male, though I'm sure the stubble and lack of curves didn't give that away at all."

Age:
"Late thirties, early forties, I think? I lose track, not something that is terribly relevant."

Note: Current age is 41.

Birthplace:
"Some small village out in the middle of nowhere, out beyond the swamps and at least a weeks travel from Wanderneir."

Note: Saker Keep, the village in question, has close ties in trade with the Dwarves of nearby mountains. Settled in the ruins of an old Human castle, they tend to fend off bandits and the like on a routine basis, meaning that the technology they received from the dwarves as part of trading has had to be weaponized.

Current Location:
"Seeing what's to see in Wanderneir, curious name that. Perhaps do some commission work, see if anything interesting jumps up, otherwise move on..."

Mental Description:
"A flippant nuisance and far too eager to tinker for his own good. Ahh, such kind words, aren't they? The dwarves may not have been wrong though."

Gerard is a tinkerer, an experimenter, and explorer by nature. Always pushing his creations and even his own body to their limits whenever it suits him, he tends to get up to his neck in trouble if for no other reason than to see how well he can get out of it. Being a drifter and wanderer at heart, he tends not to hang around in any one place for too long unless something interesting or otherwise engaging is going on. Of course, he cannot simply wander for free, and often finds himself in the employ of all sorts, and is certainly willing to do dirty work to line his pockets before going about his business. Outside of doing business, he has little regard for anything that doesn't hold his interest, be it curious beings, curious technology, curious magic, or merely strange occurrences. That being said, he can be counted on to (begrudgingly) assist those he finds as friends, in his own special way that may or may not be actually seen as helpful in the short term. Or the long term, depending on the original goal, but he will help.

Strengths:
"I'm a tinkerer with magitech, what more could I need?"

What is obvious from Gerard's equipment is that, despite his human birth, he has every intent of not only matching the Dwarves and their technological marvels, but even surpassing them. He maintains and builds his own equipment, and is a deft hand in puzzling out even ancient technology that is still running even after all this time. Fitting for a Magitech focused man, he has the ability to manipulate the Mana that is in the air and always around him, though to what extent he keeps a closely guarded secret. To go along with this, he has a deft hand and sharp eyes, able to pick out minute details and do things that require fine motor control. What is less obvious is the fact that he is competent at first aid and treating injuries, mostly his own since he has had things quite literally blow up in his face before. Outside of this, he is used to making ends meet with very little, and living out in the wilds when traveling, exploring, and plunging headlong into the places destroyed and forgotten during the war.

Drawbacks:
"Flaws, me? I'm flawless. Really, cross my heart and hope to die."

Despite boasting, Gerard is, in fact, not a flawless human being. Compared to others of his species, he is not terribly strong, reliant on dexterity and agility to make ends meet. Given his flippant, and often times secretive, attitude, he can rather easily make enemies regardless of whether or not he intends to or not. Add in the fact that nothing is off limits, and he believes he can go wherever he pleases if it suits his interests and needs, he can find himself in hot water in a hurry. He also has far too much confidence in his experimental, and temperamental, magitech inventions, meaning that should all of it fail, he'll be down to whatever is on hand and his own wits to get by.

Experimental Longcaster:
"My second, and longest running, project. Ease of use of a crossbow, without all the fussing about. At least in theory."

The long metal contraption that is on his back most of the time, Gerard refers to it as a "Longcaster", not the most imaginative of names, but it gets the point across. Comparable to what one might consider a wheellock mechanism, though it does not unwind when fired to generate sparks. The windings instead control how cohesive the pure mana slug in the mana condensing crystals that line the weapon's internals is. The more tightly wound the control spring, the longer reaching the slug is. Of course, more cohesiveness takes longer for the weapon to naturally draw upon ambient mana to recharge, and while Gerard can certainly use his own ability to manipulate mana to forcefully recharge the chamber, doing so in rapid succession can lead to the crystals overheating or outright exploding. Notably, when fully unwound, instead of a single slug, the weapon emits a blast of mana that acts more like an explosive than a single shot, unintentionally useful for close defense.

Prototype Shortcaster
"Yes, it's still technically a prototype, but its my most reliable and successful creation."
Originally with only one barrel, and far more simplistic, Gerard's imaginative naming conventions have continued even now. Having evolved from its humble origins, the contraption has six barrels, each lined with crystals capable of drawing in and containing mana until agitated into a violent release. While not capable of creating blasts that maintain cohesiveness for nearly as long or far as the Longcaster, but he can chain up to six blasts of damaging mana slugs in rapid succession before having to either let the crystals recharge on their own or manually force them to accept mana he manipulates into the barrels. While it may look like it, the thing does not actually rotate freely, a lever on the box holding the six barrels in place can be flicked to change which barrel is being agitated into firing off its charge.

General Note: As more things are created, stolen and modified, or otherwise come into his possession, they will be added into this list.

Background Information:
"Now, where's the fun in spelling out everything? No, no you get to find out the hard way."

[User]
Cider

The shallow stagnant waters of the swamp were a comfortable home for any slime, the water was a relaxing and safe place to rest. When Cider slept, he could not maintain his normal humanoid shape and he became a puddle almost indistinguishable from the swamp water in the moonlight. Sometimes his next meal would even stumble right into him trying foolishly to cross the swamp water in low light conditions. Other slimes shared his home but they were much simpler than him, even Cider could tell he was out of place among them. He could not remember where he came from, but he recalled a friendly face, a human face.

It was sufficiently dark now that some of the small glowing creatures would begin their flight, and the leaves of the plants in the water too began to shine a deep blue. In an otherwise exceedingly dark place they provided some beauty, and Cider appreciated them even if he couldn't think of the words to call them.

[Assistant]
Morrigan Wren Asherah | Wandering in Wanderneir
◊ ◊ ◊ ◊ ◊
"I have not directly had anything to do with your shadow sprite problem. A new day is coming for this world, and if you wish to survive you had best be ready to rise and meet it." Morrigan continued to glare at him. He dodged her question. Or decided not to answer the way she intended. There was no point in her trying to get information from this thing. Sighing heavily, she began to drop her bow as a newcomer approached. Heavy and loud, a dwarf butted into the group. What the hell was happening? Where are these people coming from? She had to think very carefully about her next few words if she was to escape this... predicament. Morrigan cursed at herself mentally, why would she ever call for help? "Well, if you excuse me... My husband is probably worried sick that I haven't returned." Morrigan slung the bow over her shoulder and began backing away, more towards where the entry of the tavern. With a slight turn, "-Ah, thank you again... I never caught your name?" Morrigan hurriedly asked. She did not trust that mounted man, and his presence caused her uneasiness. And that damn dwarf would draw so much attention! At this rate, Morrigan was bound to be hanged by morning. The only thing that could get her out of this situation was her magic, or hopefully this man that saved her. His robes were nice, and he had openly used magic in this kingdom that is so against it.

Morrigan was becoming more antsy by the second. She needed to get back to her journal and her regular, comfortable armor. Darkness flickered over her eyes for a moment before she set her gaze onto the young man once more. Now that her hands were not occupied with bow and arrow, she put her hand over her open wound. It had ruined her peasant tunic and handmade corset with blood stains. As she awaited a reply from the mage, her eyes wandered towards the golem that seemed to be under the dwarfs control. It was a weird creation she hoped never to dip her fingers into. It seemed too machine-like to have a will.

[User]
Arlo

Somehow, Arlo believed the knight. Strange appearances aside, he could tell that he wasn't capable of such a thing. He didn't seem to be a caster, and if he was so outwardly aggressive as to beset someone with shadow sprites he would have already attacked them.

He owed his level-headed reaction to the scenario before him to his already bizarre adventure since he left home. Running into interesting characters and strange happenings was just part of the experience to him. However, the dwarf was something of a sight he had never seen before. Machinations of the sort were exceedingly rare, and had he not already been preoccupied he might have flocked to the dwarf asking to study his creations. His eyes lit up with excitement towards the dwarf, but he quickly remembered the situation. Turning his head to see the dwarf also allowed him a glimpse of something else, movement rushing behind a building. He stared off towards it for a moment and tried to determine what it might have been. A villager rushing home perhaps? No, this was more familiar to him. He could swear he saw a leveret. But in Wanderneir? No, his mind must be playing tricks on him.

Arlo's attention was gained again by the elf he had saved as she spoke. His name? He realized in the confusion that he had not introduced himself.

"Listen, everyone. My name is Arlo, and I'm the acting court wizard under King Lancaster. I've been hired to seek out the source of the shadow sprite crisis, and have express permission to use whatever at my disposal to do so. While it seems all of you are capable people, I must advise that you seek shelter until dawn. If the guards of this city see you out at night you wont be charged with a crime but you might be placed in a cell until daylight for your own safety."

Arlo turned towards the dwarf, one of his creations held a strange light that seemed bright enough to travel safely.

"Sir, I know you don't know any of us, but would you be kind enough to escort these people to their homes should they need it? I still wish to talk more with each of you, you can all find me tomorrow morning in my housing near the castle, third house on the right."

[Assistant]
Gerard Voss | Approaching Wanderneir

 "Go to Wanderneir they said. Stop irritating the dwarf traders, again, they said. Stop coming back after every expedition, they said. The main road being through a swamp was hardly mentioned. And not even an interesting ruin in sight..." The blue coat and dark silver trims of the long coat that was being worn by the human would normally be fairly decent at not standing out in low light situations. Of course, the shock of pure white hair did not help in that matter at all, nor did the fact he was keeping his surroundings well lit. A small crystal was hanging from his belt, having been resting in a pouch before needed, and trapping a small amount of agitated mana inside of it and letting it refract, thus producing light. He knew full well that swamps hid all sorts of things, from Slimes to other beasts, so the last thing he needed was to stumble into something blind. It wouldn't be fun for anyone involved then, realy.

 With his surroundings lit, Gerard was keeping to the dry patches as best he could. Swamps held all sorts of nasty, tricky things for those unaware. Last thing he needed was for his gadgets and experimental pieces of equipment to get lost in some swamp and rust into nothing. Considering the state of the roads, such as they were, he was mostly working off the clear spots he could see Wanderneir in the distance, plus the odd sign that was either damaged or otherwise present to some degree. At one point he had caught the sound of something moving through the brush and low lying swampland, and he had produced his Shortcaster, the six barreled contraption, and was moving through the area with it in hand just in case. The bioluminescence was a boon to a degree, but it only lit some areas. The problem was the areas that were not lit, which meant he produced his own light, though nowhere as potent as a proper torch or lantern, it took up far less space and mana to use.

 "Last time I was in a swamp, nearly stumbled into a Slime den, near enough for them to wake up. Took nearly a week to clean the goop off my boots..." Such was a habit of his, constantly muttering or talking to himself, it kept him focused and alert instead of constantly trudging on in silence. He had to constantly sweep and search the area as he moved forward, sometimes angling the light from his crystalline replacement for a lantern to light up suspicious deep spots. Again, he had no interest of stumbling into a Slime bathing pool and having to try and fight his way out. Sure, he had no doubts he could manage, but that didn't mean he wanted to. "Should have left earlier, then again, would have been leaving at night to get through this swamp by nightfall. At least on foot..."