[System]
Age:
16

Gender:
Male

Appearance:
Brad has the appearance of a meathead. Large (6'3") and bulky (208lbs), he can be quite intimidating, especially due to his upright posture that almost never bows. His dark brown skin contrasts with his short, shaggy blond hair. Not the kind that is filled with product to look like he just woke up; it's messier and less intentional. His dark brown eyes are often squinted, which lends to his scary look. The reason is he refuses to get glasses and figures he'll just adapt to it. However, puberty was not entirely kind to Brad as his face is riddled with acne, with some slight scarring when he used to scratch at it mercilessly.

Personality:
Brad is neither a gentle giant nor an aggressive goon. Brad is a very serious teen, filled with focus to do the best he can. He can often come across as standoffish, which while not his intention, isn't something he worries about fixing. He has a distaste for violence but admits it can have some useful applications in dire situations. He has high hopes for himself and is hopelessly stubborn. While he isn't often one to start joking around, he does jump in if someone else starts the silliness. He has a very set in stone view of morality and a weird reverence of 'the Light'. Together, they form his strict code of honour he holds himself (and often times others) to.

History:
Brad was born to an engineer and a stay-at-home dad, the second of four children. His parents taught him a very important lesson from a young age and that was to chase your dreams. After all, if you didn't, who would? Brad's dream was to become a professional football player, as a wide receiver. He had the speed and the strength to break through tackles, so it looked like a sure thing. Unfortunately, during a practice, he badly pulled a hamstring and, while in pain, got tackled in a way that concussed him. Doctors suggested he take on another dream. After months of heated arguments with his parents and doctors, Brad finally relented and returned to a back-up passion: Duel Monsters. He quite enjoyed playing Noble Knights, as he felt a certain connection with the honour of the knights. However, after being mocked for being so straight-forward, he decided that upon arrival at the Duel Tower, he would prove that he was as smart as he was tough.

Favorite Card/Archetype or theme:
Noble Knights / LIGHT Warriors

Chosen courses:
Standard Dueling, Standard Summoning

Chosen Structure Deck:
Space Invaders!

Custom Structure Deck List:
Monsters (20)
Des Feral Imp x 1
Gale Lizard x 1
Oshaleon x 1
Worm Apocalypse x 1
Worm Cartaros x 2
Worm Dimikles x 1
Worm Falco x 1
Worm Jetelikpse x 1
Worm King x 1
Worm Prince x 1
Worm Queen x 1
Worm Solid x 1
Worm Tentacles x 1
Worm Victory x 1
Worm Warlord x 1
Worm Xex x 2
Worm Yagan x 2
Spells (10)
Book of Eclipse x 2
Book of Moon x 1
Constellar Belt x 1
Forbidden Dress x 1
Molting Escape x 1
Mystical Space Typhoon x 1
Pot of Duality x 1
Worm Call x 1
Viper's Rebirth x 1
Traps (10)
Alien Brain x 1
Burst Rebirth x 1
Compulsory Evacuation Device x 1
Damage = Reptile x 1
Damage Gate x 1
Lumenize x 1
Offering to the Snake Deity x 1
Snake Whistle x 1
W Nebula Meteorite x 2
Extra (1)
King of Feral Imps x 1

Chosen Pack:
Duel Terminal 1

Current deck:
Monsters (20)
Alien Shocktrooper x 1
Des Feral Imp x 1
Gale Lizard x 1
Worm Apocalypse x 1
Worm Cartaros x 2
Worm Dimikles x 1
Worm Falco x 1
Worm Jetelikpse x 1
Worm King x 1
Worm Queen x 1
Worm Solid x 1
Worm Tentacles x 2
Worm Victory x 1
Worm Warlord x 1
Worm Xex x 2
Worm Yagan x 2
Spells (10)
Book of Eclipse x 2
Book of Moon x 1
Constellar Belt x 1
Forbidden Dress x 1
Mystical Space Typhoon x 1
Pot of Duality x 1
Viper's Rebirth x 1
W Nebula Call x 1
W Nebula Fusion x 1
Traps (10)
Alien Brain x 1
Burst Rebirth x 1
Compulsory Evacuation Device x 1
Damage = Reptile x 1
Damage Gate x 1
Lumenize x 1
Offering to the Snake Deity x 1
Snake Whistle x 1
W Nebula Meteorite x 2
Extra (2)
King of Feral Imps x 1
Worm Nebula Zero x 1

Collection:
Monsters (44)
Alien Shocktrooper x 1
Caravan of the Ice Barrier x 1
Chaos Emissary, Apprentice of Nox x 1
Chaos Emissary, Butterfly x 1
Chrysalis Chicky x 1
Deepspace Scout x 1
Deepspace Stunner x 1
Des Feral Imp x 1
Dewdark of the Ice Barrier x 1
Fabled Dyf x 1
Fabled Topi x 1
Final Apocalypse Dragon x 1
Flamvell Fiend x 1
Flint Lock x 2
Gale Lizard x 1
King Pyron x 1
Machina Fortress x 1
Oshaleon x 1
Phantom Cricket x 1
Phantom Dragonray Bronto x 1
R-Genex Oracle x 1
Reese the Ice Mistress x 1
Renge, Gatekeeper of Dark World x 1
Samurai of the Ice Barrier x 1
Volcanic Rat x 2
Worm Apocalypse x 1
Worm Cartaros x 2
Worm Dimikles x 1
Worm Falco x 1
Worm Illidan { The Betrayer } x 1
Worm Jetelikpse x 1
Worm King x 1
Worm Prince x 1
Worm Queen x 1
Worm Solid x 1
Worm Tentacles x 2
Worm Victory x 1
Worm Warlord x 2
Worm Xex x 2
Worm Yagan x 2
X-Saber Airbellum x 1
Spells (15)
Amulet of Ambition x 1
Book of Eclipse x 2
Book of Moon x 1
Chaos Emissary Sanctuary x 1
Constellar Belt x 1
Convert Contact x 1
Flint Missile x 1
Forbidden Dress x 1
Malevolent Nuzzler x 1
Molting Escape x 1
Mystical Space Typhoon x 1
Pot of Duality x 1
Summoner's Art x 1
The Clockwork Curator x 1
Viper's Rebirth x 1
W Nebula Fusion x 1
W Nebula Call x 1
Traps (16)
Alien Brain x 1
Black Horn of Heaven x 1
Burst Rebirth x 1
Compulsory Evacuation Device x 1
Counter Counter x 1
Damage = Reptile x 1
Damage Gate x 1
Destructive Draw x 1
Dust Tornado x 1
Gift Card x 1
Living on Borrowed Time x 1
Lumenize x 1
Offering to the Snake Deity x 1
Snake Whistle x 2
W Nebula Meteorite x 2
Extra (2)
King of Feral Imps x 1
Worm Nebula Zero x 1

Points:
0.

[User]
Maisy stared in a mix of shock and disappointment, shock at how quickly a Light Dorm student got beaten, but dissapointed because IT WAS OVER ALREADY!? Sighing in utter disbelief, she held her face in her hands, elbows poised in the center of her thighs. That kinda sucked. There weren't even any good pulls or Action cards to save someone from a pinch...absolutely no style or flair in any of it. If this was Standard rulings then yeah, it'd be a little more impressive, but Action Duels were just sorta different. At least to her. Where was the entertainment value of an opponent barely being able to retaliate? Placing her hands in her Uniform's pockets, Maisy got up without saying anything. She really wanted the thing to go on long enough that she'd find someone who she cheered for, or someone with good cheesy one-liners for special summonings that didn't blow.

Getting up, she felt nature call and trotted off to the bathroom, doing her business and washing her hands...noticing a somewhat odd looking girl with a normal looking wind-dorm uniform, save for it having a green hood. As the girl was washing her hands, she had a somewhat suspicious feeling that she'd seen someone similar...hmm. Scooting over slowly, she asked: "Heeey...are you a ninja? in the most blunt, straightforward, in her face way. Maisy knew all and saw all, and right now she saw a ninja in the bathroom. "...Crud, I think that was racist." was all that filled her mind afterwards.

[Assistant]
Akemi Ael

---

A long sigh drew out of her mouth after two occurrences; the first was Venwyn's unnecessary, lazy use of the magic they had been taught simply to get to the seats quicker, whilst the second time was at the pathetic excuse for an action duel that had been displayed before her. Sure, each side may good plays, but there wasn't anything much that separated it from a normal duel, so it just appeared as a really boring attempt to be something it wasn't. After which, Akemi realised that the gift of free time meant that people could be fought and packs could be bought, so naturally she face Lifebeater for the second time to arrive at the shop, tearing open six in total and finding a minuscule amount of Sylvan support, which was unfortunate. Despite this, she remained unvexed and put the few cards in her deck, some of which really complimented each other, for example the Gigantic Cephalotus made up for most of the useless cards she had received. It went so well with a deck that was based around sending plants to the grave!

The repeated journey across Lifebeater's scorched land once more took a toll on Akemi - she could feel burns beginning to form underneath her eyes, so her immediate response was to run to the bathroom in the arena and apply some cold water to the areas. The girl had to admit, it did help slightly, however for the most part she knew the inevitable was that they were eventually going to blister. Such sadness. The reflection that faced her in the mirror was one with scorn; disapproving of how useless the hood had been at providing shade successfully. The immediate and abrupt voice of the other girl almost caught Akemi off guard, if she had not sensed her arrival prior to her speaking. The question, whilst simple, actually made her laugh. For the first time in so many years, snorts and giggles erupted from her mouth continuously and it made her so happy. "Ahaha, I mean, y-yes, I am a ninja, I just found it hilarious that something my whole life had been based on was put to question. Not to be rude to you! It's not like I'm dressed that way currently or anything, so you made quite an astute observation! I'm Akemi, by the way, you probably saw my cousins Venwyn and Mary. The cold ninja and the non-ninja." A hand was stretched out towards Maisy, with a grin on her face.

[User]
Nice firm handshake. Nice to know some people still cared about the little things, even in this world of crazed teens with expensive holographic equipment. "Kinda overwhelming, huh?" Brad quickly gestured at the pristine walls and the window, showing nothing but barren desert. "Closest thing to this high I've ever been was the four-story mall back in Austin..."

Wait, this guy wouldn't care about his smalltown adventures. Focus, Brad.

"But uhh..." He pointed at the cards Angelo had been sorting through. "Anything good?"


[System]
Real: Skadi Türkis
Race: Human
Gender: Female
Age: 19
Nationality: Atlesian
Color: #6ecff6
Emblem: A clipart of a brilliant cut diamond
Voice actor: Shirley Manson

Themes:
Main - Neutral - Happy - Angry - Sad - Semblance - Fighting - Victorious - Defeated
Appearance:

Diamond is a rather tall woman with a lean build, being 178 centimeters tall. She's only as strong as she needs to be, having developed a physique for slipping into tight spots and blending in with the crowd. The woman weighs around 62 kilos with slightly lower than average percentage of body fat.

The dominant feature of her face are her eyes, which are sky blue and have a turquoise glow to them due to her dust implant. Her hair is golden in color and cut short, styled into backwards facing spikes. As a northerner from Atlas, Diamond's skin is very pale.

The dust implanted in her caused a blue pattern to develop on her back and an overuse left a crystalline blue weblike pattern on her right arm. If she uses her ice spells, these along with her eyes glow blue, and her eyes flash into white when casting a kinetic spell.

She doesn't wear a battledress in the traditional sense, preferring not to be hindered by armor of any sort. With her semblance and dust implant she also prefers to leave her arms exposed, usually wearing a pair of sturdy boots, pants and a vest.

Diamond carries herself with pride most of the time and makes good use of nonverbal communication, having learned the meaning of various gestures and being able to use them to convey a different meaning from what she is actually saying. In combat she moves with the fluidity of a gymnast.

History:
During a particularly nasty winter, a child was born to an uncaring mother who barely had enough mercy to leave the girl on the doorstep of the first house far enough. As it so happened a rather poor elderly woman lived there and upon finding the crying newborn took her in. She gave the girl the name Diamond due to her blue eyes.
Unfortunately, five years later Diamond's adoptive mother died, leaving the girl to fend for herself on the streets. A crafty little thing, she quickly found out that instead of begging for the food, it was easier to simply take it when no one was looking.

Living in poverty, the girl has had enough after two more years. Growing stronger, nimbler and bolder, Diamond started rifling the pockets of unsuspecting passer-bys. It didn't take long for the gang whose territory she was on to threaten her into joining. Having nothing to lose and all to gain, Diamond was happy to accept.

In the next few years, Diamond slowly but steadily became great at her craft, rising through the gang's ranks nicely. It all came to an abrupt end however when another gang made a move on their territory. During the fight her semblance manifested and gave her the means of escaping the brawl without getting hurt. Afterwards, she went solo again.

After honing her skills for several more years and nearly getting caught a few times, Diamond made a reputation for herself in the underworld. Finally, she got contracted to pull an art heist for the first time. She started working as a hired gun, taking items of opportunity for herself along her jobs. For the next year, she lived quite the luxurious life and amassed significant wealth for her age.

Growing careless, Diamond got caught by an undercover cop while pickpocketing for change. Having nothing on her other than the pickpocketing, her sentence was just a year in juvenile detention.

Coming face to face with several less than pleasant experiences and generally starting to understand that when she barely survived a month of Atlesian Juvy, she would die in a lifetime in an Atlesian prison, Diamond started working her hide off to make something of herself, moving to Vale and paying herself a crash course to drastically improve her combat abilities.
A year later, she made it into Beacon.

Personality:
In one word, Diamond is a bitch. Sarcastic and cynical, she has nearly no moral blocks and will happily relieve you of money you didn't guard well enough just to show you she can. The concept of friendship is something new to her and it shows in her opinion on people swinging easily. Diamond can feed you complete garbage without losing a serious expression on her face. If you piss her off, prepare to suffer a thoroughly planned humiliation.

She might be a criminal, but she is a classy one. Violent crimes are a strict no-go unless something has gone horribly wrong. She quite enjoys the thrill of sneaking around and defeating various obstacles like motion sensors and locks. In her mind, every moron can rob a dust store at gunpoint, but it takes skill to do it in a way that makes the owner notice only a day afterwards.

Apparently she is not past redemption, because after Juvy, she decided to do something with herself and applied to be a huntress, even though her main reason is to hone her skills rather than to protect the people.

Skills:
* Combat
	+ Hand-to-hand: Average
	+ Short blades: Expert
	+ Long blades and polearms: Proficient
	+ Firearms: Lacking
	+ Dust: Beginner, talented
* Common
	+ Leading: She has what it takes to do well enough, but lacks self-confidence
	+ Lockpicking: Expert
	+ Hacking: Skilled with older systems, haven't kept up with recent advances
	+ Pickpocketing: Proficient
	+ Cooking: Wizard
	+ Drinking: Practice makes perfect

Powers:
* Inborn
	+ Shadowshifter - Diamond absorbs her shadow into her own being, gaining the ability to alter her own body much like the shadow before. She can turn any part of her body into a shadow form. In such a state, she is more resistant to physical damage, although her senses are somewhat dulled. The true ability is that Diamond can alter her shape within some bounds. Her shape has to remain humanoid in essence, but her limbs can stretch, sharpen or bulk up, for example she can grow talons or change her entire forearm into a blade. She can also turn flatten herself into a shadow to pass through small gaps like under the door.
* Acquired
	+ Ice dust implant - Diamond had Ice dust fused into her nervous system, giving her the ability to cast spells through her fantasy alone. This kind of dust allows her to create and manipulate ice. It comes with downsides though - too voluminous or quick casting will damage her nerves, or other tissues in later stages.
	+ Kinetic dust implant - Same as above, granting Diamond telekinetic abilities. Other than moving things with her mind she can also use this to project physical attacks over distance.

Relationships:
* Cobalt Chideta: "A passive lad. I don't mind him, but I also fail to notice he's in the room half of the time."
* Oswald Connoly: "Ugh! His attitude can be infuriating, especially when he's not much better than I am. It's in his eyes. He's seen - and done - some nasty things."
* Emerald Felicia: "Lovable goof, infuriating airhead. Just friends."
* Esther Vanhomrigh: "Just benefits."
* Träd Oak: "Smoking and drinking buddy. Quite possibly the only person in this school that I can stand without any reservations."
* Sapphire Rode: "Someone from an entirely different world than I. She has the right to her opinions. They're mostly wrong, of course, but hey."
* Kuhaku Shiro: "Infuriating klutz, comedic relief. Generally harmless and epically innocent."
* Skyra Dawn: "Very recent acquaintance. Dunno. Seems to follow the general feline faunus trend though."
* Amaranth Desire: "The reminder of the past I want to forget. Business, that's all it was."

Trivia:
* Diamond is left handed.
* She is afraid of deep waters.
* A quitting smoker.
* She likes red meat and high quality alcohol.

[User]
Emerald - Totally lost -

A drop of sweat escaped Emerald's face. She looked all around her with frantic, erratic movements.

"AHHHHHH I'm totally lost!" Maybe running off on her own hadn't been such a great idea. Emerald waved her hands in the air frantically, running in a circle. "I'm gonna die! I'm gonna run out of water, then I'm gonna die! They'll find nothing but bones!"

She paused in her panicking when she remembered something important. She had a scroll. She opened it up and quickly found a map of the school. "Ah okay, I'm not gonna die, phew."  That had been a close one, she decided that the wisest thing to do now would be to head back the way she came and hopefully find that tour guide. She started running with abandon, hopefully they hadn't started the tour without her! She'd miss the tour snacks! Wait, did they have tour snacks? She hoped so!

The assembled group outside of Ozpin's office heard what sounded like wind blowing at high speed as Emerald sped toward them, nearly crashing into the group as she came to a sudden stop in front of them. She panted, bracing herself against her knees as she caught her breath. She looked up at Sarina.

"Sorry! I got excited and ran off to explore but then I got lost and thought I was gonna die and that all that would be left was my bones but then I remembered I had a scroll and I looked at the map and ran all the way back here because I didn't want to miss the tour and by the way are there snacks?" She was speaking so fast it was hard to keep up with her.

[Assistant]
Marcus Goldstein - Convoy Escort

The camp was in ruins. No one was left inside. Bodies, burning ruins and broken tools littered the inner field. Far too many by Marcus' own hand. He counted those shot by Aurellius. Under his orders MODA smashed everything like an out of control Sitting Bull. He might as well have pulled Avalon's trigger himself.

"Better than an action movie right?" Aurellius said. "Too bad I didn't get to do much but hey that's how the dice land."

Marcus said nothing in return. Personally he felt like Oswald looked, but he stowed it for later. There were still people to save. He could still do some good. He had to do some good here. He could drown himself in what ifs and unanswered questions later, now was the time for action. The convoy still had two trucks left that were making a run for it.

The autoloader rattled as another HE shell slid into the breech. To an outsider the cannon solution might have appeared like overkill. However it was the best option Marcus had. Close quarters was out, machine guns would be less effective, and finally the bugs were tiny. That made them highly susceptible to death by overpressure. Once more an artificial earthquake shook the ground as another shell thundered downrange. Compared to the other spectacles of destruction the explosion was almost mundane. The thickest part of the bug swarm simply ceased to exist, replaced in a flash of light by a small mushroom cloud.

Meanwhile another mental track analysed. Their behaviour indicated the bugs wanted the fire to spread. There was nothing that could be done about the source of the flames but wait for it to burn out, no available fire extinguisher would put out the white phosphorous. The acid the bugs used would do a number on everything MODA had to offer, let alone the camp. So why were they not swarming over the camp? Why bother with the fire? What was the cause of the jamming? Was it related to the bugs and if so how and why? Who were the humanoid attackers of the convoy then, if any? Far too may questions needed answers.

"So what now boss?" Aurellius asked.

"Now. Now we hold our ground. Defend the camp. I doubt this is over." Marcus said tonelessly. "If however, it is over. We regroup, find some answers, then move on from there."

[User]
Luke Schwarze -- Out of the Frying Pan

First universal rule of fighting in all forms...

Well, guideline, but treating it as a rule is smart. Perhaps the greatest lesson he'd ever learned from the very same coach that had always told him to try and emulate his prodigy sister--

Stay off the center line!

Feeling his eyebrows begin to singe away, the gauntleted teen juked forward and to the side, simultaneously closing distance and evading a crispy, untimely conclusion to their short battle.

That said, he needed to keep this up. Casting fireball undoubtedly gave this Mordred guy the range advantage, and that was something he absolutely needed to take away! He kept pressing inward, trying to close the distance between him and his opponent.

If I can just get my hands on him, I'll be in a much better position to do some work.

Luckily, he only had a few feet to go, and then the next issue'd be dealing with that sword.

Either try and in-fight, or just take him to the ground.

Those seemed like the best options.

Keeping an intelligent defense up all the while, Schwarze continued working his way into range.

[Assistant]
Having finally caught up with the now stationary tank, Diamond jumped up with a loud thump. "Say what?" she said, a bit of anger in her voice. "That's not the mission. That's to protect the trucks! The camp was a write off even before we showed up, look at what's left of the truck! The bugs would have gotten the camp in the end, and we brought mining dust, not arms, none of this would have helped them!" she said, her voice getting steadily more growling. This was going to end badly from the start and there was pathetic little they could have done with what they had and knew. Time to pull their heads out of their asses and salvage what was left!

Two of the trucks were heading back to Vale, while the wreck of the third one was rapidly vanishing in front of their eyes. And they stood here, doing nothing, and being surrounded by a spreading wildfire. "Well? Do something, boss! I'm not abandoning what they hired me to do as long as those trucks are rolling and I am certainly not going to stay here and burn to a crisp! If you can't make a decision then get your candy ass back to that camp, there are a few survivors to load up, and let me handle this!" she yelled in frustration and jumped off, walking in the direction of what remained of the third truck and the bulk of the swarm.

The blast of the high explosive shot seemed to hurt the swarm more than the fire. The source of the fire was an incendiary round, not much she could do about that, but they had to put out the grass before they burned here alive. How does one put out a fire of that magnitude though? It reminded her of a dust quarry fire, spreading too fast to be contained. If memory served, they put those out with a shockwave, blowing the flames right off. Looking at the truck, the pieces started falling together.

She just hoped enough of the mining dust was left intact to be effective. Turning around, she gave Marcus a stern look. "Blow up what's left of the truck before they eat it all! That should blow off the fires in a gap big enough for us to get through and take most of the bugs with it! We only need the two trucks! We need to catch up with those!" she said, her tone of voice on the borderline between a suggestion and an order.


[System]
AGE:
13
SEX:
Male
APPEARANCE:
Leaning more towards the short side, Fable's usual appearance is nothing remarkable. Brown fluffy hair paired with matching brown eyes, he comes off as stoic. Though that could be cause he's usually quiet. Despite that, he surprisingly dresses well for someone who prioritizes comfort.

Transformed, Fable's appearance takes on a more steampunkish aesthetic. A red jacked paired with a corset, accented with different metals shaped like gears make him look like a mechanic. Though that's not the kicker. As an Esper, part of his body turn mechanical, though it's hard to tell at first glance. His eyes also take on a more golden color in this form.

GRIMIORE:
A silver pocketwatch. Appears to be antique.
INSTRUMENT: Aeterna
Fable's rapier. Nothing too noteworthy about it, but it gets work done.

GRADE: Silver
KEYWORD: Sword
DAMAGE TYPE: Physical
DAMAGE: C
SPEED: C
SENTINEL: D
SPECIAL: Swift and Keen: If Fable has successfully attacked someone this round and has avoided taking damage as well, he gets a six second speed buff on the next round.
STYLE: Clocksmith's Jacket
It's a nice one isn't it? As mentioned above, Fable dons the fancy jacket in his Esper form.

GRADE: Silver
PHYSICAL: D
ARCANE: C
CHAOS: D
SPECIAL: Industrial: Arcane defense increases +1 Rank against lightning based attacks.
GENRE: Chronosphere
Fable's magic, though leaning a bit away from offensive movesets, revolves around the concept of time.

GRADE: Silver
ELEMENT: Lightning
NOTES: [Paralysis (4), Speedster (4)] Damage (2), Damage X (6), Slow (4), Blink (4), Restrain (4), Minor Heal (4), Heal (16), Quicken (0), AoE (2)
SPECIAL: Overclock: Of course being part machine temporarily does have some perks. Casting Speedster on himself increases Damage by +1 Rank.
LEITMOTIF: Clockwork Soldier
Given the nature of his transformed state, Fable is essentially turned into a clockwork cyborg.

GRADE: Bronze
SPECIAL: The interior of Fable's transformed body is made up of gears.
BACKUP: Eddy
For a bit of good luck, Mary has given Fable their other puppet to help him in combat.

[Bronze Beam][Summon][Enhance][Powerful]
SPECIAL: Eddy seems rather fond of the boy, wonder where he gets it from.
PR: Pistol, Medical Supplies
Sometimes you can't rely on your esper form alone.

GRADE: Bronze
SPECIAL: Fable's PR equipment carries the same theme as the rest of his transformed self. Kind of charming.
FACTION:
Gemini Agents
TRIVIA:
He doesn't really talk about himself much. But word on the grapevine is that Fable is the youngest member of one of the more wealthy families in Pax Septimus. His family was often busy, sometimes he was too. The only one of them he usually clung to was his older sister. And even then she'd have more important matters to attend to. Sure, such a life could be concidered lucky, but to Fable, it felt...unsatisfying. Not to mention frustrating at times.

 He eventually developed a habit of slipping away unnoticed, going out to wander through the city and do what he wanted for a change. Of course the crime rate was something Fable kept in mind, he learned to be careful with wandering off too far. Though the one thing he didn't learn about? What to do about a monster attack.

 Apparently, finding himself lost one day, Fable was unfortunate enough to stumble onto one such monster. A shadowy apparition-like being, indecipherable. Frightened, he tried to quietly get away before the monster noticed him. Sadly, something had to happen. The littlest of sounds were able to attract it's attention. He had to run.

 Fable ended up hiding in an abandoned clock shop, taking a moment of respite. He just had to wait until the shade gave up and left, or chose a different target to kill. It managed to follow him inside, but the ticking of the remaining clocks distracted it enough to buy Fable some time. Though what could he do? There was nothing to fight it off with, and running again could alert it too.

 Then something caught the boy's eye. A silver sheen near the corner of the store.

 He snuck over and grabbed it. A silver pocketwatch. Though antique, it appeared to be in mint condition. Before Fable knew it, the unassuming trinket had given him just the power he needed to rid himself of his little stalker. Flashes of light could be seen from outside the shop like a contained storm; though there was no rain or thunder, and Fable walked away without a scratch and with a goal in mind. He had to learn more about espers and monsters.

 Even if he eventually joined G.E.M.I.N.I., his neutral stance on Maverick Alternate hasn't changed. But he's aware that they're his occupation's enemy, and he won't let them stop him or his allies from getting their job done. Hopefully his new job will be a big help in his own investigations.

 But still, what of his family? Whether they're entrepreneurs to important buisnesses, or one of the mafia factions that taint the city, they'll have to catch onto his dissapearing act at some point. Right?13 | Male | Gemini | Clockwork Soldier
Aeterna | Sword | Physical | Swift and Keen
Clocksmith's Jacket | Industrial
Chronosphere | Lightning | Overclock
[Paralysis (4), Speedster (4)] Damage (2), Damage X (6), Slow (4), Blink (4), Restrain (4), Minor Heal (4), Heal (16), Quicken (0), AoE (2)

DAMAGE: C | SPEED: C | SENTINEL: D | 750

PHYSICAL: D | ARCANE: C | CHAOS: D | 750

[User]
Marrie Knight

Marrie had enough time to recover from casting Flight by the time she and Orion reached the door, which was probably a life saver. In preparation of a battle, she lengthened the chains on Apexer Predator while it was hidden in her sleeve to about 15 feet, careful to keep it all hidden and off the ground. When the door opened she saw Sofron holding a gun of some time, she didn't think, she just reacted. She cast a melody to hopefully save her life at the same time that she rushed at the man and swung out with her instrument, swinging it to try to wrap around and embed itself into to enemy esper.

[Silver Self - Warm: Storm]

As she swung her right arm around with her dagger flying in an arc towards Sofron, she was enveloped in a blistering wind that would hopefully keep away the gunfire and ran head-first towards him. She instinctively retracted her instrument's chains slowly, trying to compensate for closing the distance between her and her target.

---

19 | Female | Freelancer | Misty Steps
Apexer Predator | Dagger | Physical | Heavenly Chain
Wind-Carved Glacier | Masking
Step of the Hurricane | Wind | Riding the Currents
[Storm (4), Flight (6)] Damage X (6), Multi-Cast (4), Blink (4), Magic Sense (6), Heal (16), Portal (8), Rain (2), Scatter (2), Bounce (2)

DAMAGE: C | SPEED: D | SENTINEL: C | 750

[Silver Touch - Flight: -72
[Silver Self - Warm: Storm: -72

PHYSICAL: E | ARCANE: D | CHAOS: C | 606

[Assistant]
Jacqueline Leroux
Jacqueline left the receptionist outside, then returned to Fable. She looked over the blueprint he'd found. It seemed simple enough, and was accurate up to the elevator. There, its existence proved the building did indeed have a basement. Jacqueline wasn't surprised.

At Breacher's suggestion, she shook her head. "I don't think we should split up. Anywhere we go might be traps, but especially downstairs. And…going against Arzendale by myself wasn't the best, so. I'd rather not repeat that," she grimaced as she said so. Maybe she was too worried for nothing, or maybe going together was actually playing into the doctor's hand, but scouting an unknown location – a basement where she suspected all those thralls might be being kept – didn't seem particularly safe.

"Or, if you really wanna, we need a plan how to quickly go down after you if we need to," she added.

---

---

28 | Female | Gemini Agents | Iron Dust
Havoc | Great Axe | Arcane | Pry
Eternal Knight | Perfectly polished
Forged Arsenal | Earth/Metal | Breakthrough
[Quake (2), Mass (2)] Damage X (6), AoE (2), Enhance (2), Powerful (0), Dispel (6), Zone (4), Pull (2), Restrain (4), Blink (4)

DAMAGE: B | SPEED: D | SENTINEL: D |750

PHYSICAL: E | ARCANE: C | CHAOS: D | 750

[User]
"Sometimes, I do not have witty thought quotes."
 Current Location: The Aspiria Refuge, Corridor
13 | Male | Gemini | Clockwork Soldier
Aeterna | Sword | Physical | Swift and Keen
Clockwork Jacket | Industrial
Chronosphere | Lightning | Overclock
[Paralysis (4), Speedster (4)] Damage (2), Damage X (6), Slow (4), Blink (4), Restrain (4), Minor Heal (4), Heal (16), Quicken (0), AoE (2)

DAMAGE: C | SPEED: C | SENTINEL: D | 750

PHYSICAL: E | ARCANE: C | CHAOS: D | 750
 Searching through the physical files almost had nothing of value. While there was just more buisness mumbo-jumbo he didn't have time to sort through, there was something that caught his eye. Blueprints. Not really detailed but good enough to use as a map. When Leroux regrouped with Fable, he simply passed it over to her to hold, which then was passed to Breacher. Either the map was that barebones, or the elevator they found was a recent renovation.

 At the suggestion of Breacher scouting ahead again, the boy slightly frowned. "Are you sure that's a good idea? I mean, if the bastard currently watching us can stop the elevator too..." He softly voiced his concern, just in case whoever was watching them through the camera could hear them. Atleast Jacqueline agreed this might go sideways. "Well I can always try and get some temporary power running just in case. But I haven't tried doing something like that yet, so I dunno if it'll work." The Timekeeper suggested.


[System]
Age: 42

Faction: Gotham City Police Department, Homicide Bureau

Appearance:

Bio: Art Kingsley is a GCPD Homicide Detective with twenty years experience on the rough streets of Gotham. A cynical, hard-edged, and grizzled veteran, Kingsley understands the fundamental truth about the city; that sometimes you have to do bad thing for the right reasons. Kingsley has a great many skeletons in his closet, but the whiskey bottle and copious amounts of tobacco and the occasional use of drugs keep them at bay.

Name: Felix Taylor

Age: 37

Faction: Gotham City Police Department, Homicide Bureau

Appearance:

Bio: Felix Taylor is a veteran of years of war in the desert and jungles. Returning to his home city of Chicago, he served three years in the Metro PD before a scandal forced him to transfer to the last chance saloon-the GCPD. He is new to the homicide bureau, but has shown promise on the three cases on which he has worked.

[User]
"SHOTGUN GANG" HITS GOTHAM WEST BANK-MILLIONS STOLEN

Gotham has once again been hit by a new wave of highly-motivated and professional criminals, in the form of the six men known as the "Shotgun Gang", who started plying their deadly trade three months ago. Great Western American Bank, Central Gotham Savings, Britannia Holdings... no safe is safe, it would seem. The six men appear well-trained and carry automatic shotguns. They storm in, blow the vault, take everything they can, then disappear into the city again to plan their next robbery. They've shown themselves to be ruthless, too. In one instance they fired on a security guard, who narrowly avoided death, and in another they broke a cashier's nose after she wasn't fast enough in handing over the money. One thing is sure-they won't stop until they are caught

The sky was leaden grey, overcast and threatening rain. It seemed as if the heavy, dark clouds were pressing down on the city.

Detective Arthur Kingsley pulled the unmarked sedan up to the kerb outside Julio's. The small, cramped, and dingy diner was in one of the most deprived and violent parts of town, and Kingsley could remember being called to the diner many times as a beat cop. This was the first time as a homicide detective, though. Hopefully he would have more success than the suits did when he was on the beat, he thought as he put on his jacket and fedora.

"You know Art, I musta been called to this dump a hundred times when I was on the beat." Kingsley's partner, Felix Taylor, must have been reading his thoughts.

"I know. This town's like a damn merry-go-round. Always the same crime scenes, over and over." Kingsley nodded to the policeman who lifted the yellow tape to let the two detectives through.

The murder victim was sprawled on his back in a pool of blood beside the bar, several red-rimmed holes torn in his chest. A pistol was clutched in his outstretched hand.

Kingsley gazed at the scene for a moment. "Looks professional." He said. Taylor nodded. "Yeah, that's what I was thinking. Tight shots, evenly spaced. They knew what they were doing."

Kingsley knelt. The man was in his mid-40s, and was well-built with a thin moustache. Kingsley snapped on a pair of disposable gloves on and checked his jacket pockets. A wallet, stained with blood. "Our vic is one Anthony Maddox." He said after reading the ID within. He handed the wallet to Taylor and checked the other pockets. A spare clip for the handgun in the corpse's hand, and...

Kingsley's face went white. He pulled something from the pocket and stood. Taylor frowned when he saw his partner's face. "What?" He asked, puzzled. "You look like someone has just walked over your grave." Kingsley just held out his hand. He held a silver police badge that was covered in blood, red smears covering the GCPD crest. "He was a cop." the detective said, his voice like ice. "He was a fucking cop."

"Anthony George Maddox. Narcotics Bureau officer. Aged 44, lives in a building on the China Docks." Edward Nygma, the tall angular forensics man, opened his mouth to speak again.

"If it's a riddle, Ed, you can just keep it." Kingsley cut him off. Nygma closed his mouth again. Taylor appeared from behind the bar. "Got casings here." He said. "Looks small calibre."

"It's from Detective Maddox's gun." Nygma replied, looking down at the dead cop. "He went down fighting."

"Any indication of who the assailants were?" Kingsley asked.

"Maddox wounded one of his attackers, we think." Nygma crossed the diner, pointing to a spot on the wall that was cratered by a bullet hole and smudged with red.

Kingsley looked at the victim and back again at the wall. "Trajectories seem to fit." He remarked. "I can see how it happened."

"Once we get Maddox back to the lab, we'll run the blood on the wall, see if we can get a match." Nygma said, looking at his clipboard.
A uniformed officer came to the door. "We've finished interviewing the witnesses." He announced. Taylor's eyebrows rose. "That was damn quick." He said. Kingsley snorted. "Guess they saw nothing." The beat cop clapped a hand to his mouth in mock surprise. "How did you know?" He said sarcastically. The three cops laughed; Nygma didn't seem to find it funny.

[Assistant]
For most of Gotham work was long over, for some it was just starting Renee's newest assignment was to catch a big fish known to frequent the girls selling themselves on the streets. She posed as one of those girls this was the fourth night in a row, she caught a lot of Johns but not the big fish she was trying to. A car pulled up, expensive, same make and model her target was known to drive. The passenger side rear window was lowered. She leaned in showing an ample amount of cleavage. This was her target. She gave the sales pitch she copied from several street workers. He unlocked the door & she got in. That was the sign to her backup to follow discreetly, a much harder thing to do at night which is why she was given a tracking device disguised as a lipstick that would only be activated once she was at her destination in case they checked her for any transmitting equipment.

At the hotel she was taken up a service elevator to the penthouse suite. The target had a demands before anything happened. In the bathroom she did as instructed but also activated her tracker in case her backup had to give up following the car.

[User]
The two detectives came out of Julio's just as the storm broke. The rain came pounding down, drumming on their unmarked Dodge Diplomat . Kingsley lit a cigarette, sheltering in the diner doorway. "Fucking city." He grumbled. Taylor lit up too. "I wish that a witness would give us something, just once." He complained. "You'd think the whole of Gotham was blind." Kingsley nodded, exhaling a cloud of blue smoke. "Never heard of a case that stuck in this place because of a witness, sure enough."

Taylor flicked ash from his smoke. "So what criminal lowlife do we go and question first?" He asked.

Kingsley thought for a moment. "This is Falcone's territory now, isn't it?" Taylor nodded. "Yeah, Maroni traded it in after the Bomb War." The Bomb War had been a dispute last year by the two most powerful Mafia families in Gotham had gone head to head in a spate of car bombings. Falcone had emerged on top, as usual, and Salvatore Maroni had ceded much of his turf in this part of the city.

"Who does Falcone have running this district for him now? I lose track of all the OC stuff." Taylor asked, throwing his butt into the gutter.

"Mooney." Kingsley answered, flicking his own smoke away before stepping into the rain to head for their car. "Fish Mooney."

"Well, if it isn't the most handsome detectives in Gotham." Fish Mooney said, rising from her seat. Mooney's club was almost empty save for a handful of goons and a strange, beaky guy wearing an old-fashioned cravat who served Mooney drinks. Fish Mooney was an attractive black woman with striking eyes. An exceptionally dangerous customer, she was suspected of various murders and robberies, but no proof had ever been obtained. Evidence had a habit of vanishing-and so did witnesses or informants.

"Charming as ever." Kingsley said. "But this ain't a social call, Fish."

"Really? And here I was about to get Oswald here to fetch you boys a drink."

Kingsley shook his head. "No jokes. A Narco cop's been killed. Guy called Anthony Maddox."

Fish shrugged. "I'm sorry to hear that, Arthur. But I know nothing about any cop killing. And I've never heard of him, either."

Taylor spoke up. "Come on. You think we're fresh outta Arkham or something? You know the score, Fish. Give us something. Maddox was gunned down in Julio's, you know, that diner in Bingham District? You know what happens on those streets. Turf wars, drug deals gone bad- if you don't give us something we might have to run you downtown."

Mooney smirked. "Butch might have something to say about that." The GCPD men turned and looked over their shoulders. A mountain of a man had appeared silently and was now standing over them, a tight smile on his face. "Hey, fellas."

Kingsley smiled back. "Hey, Butch. How you doin'?"

Butch Gilzean shrugged his massive shoulders. "Good, Detective. I'm good. Got a bit of a cold, but it'll pass."

Kingsley nodded. "Sorry to hear that, my man. Now hows about you back off a couple steps before I knock your teeth out?"

Gilzean looked aggrieved. "No need for that."

Taylor raised a calming hand. "All right. Keep your shirt on, big guy. All we need is some info. How about it, Fish? Help a couple of working guys out?"

Mooney thought for a moment. "OK." She said. "Maybe I heard something. You know Joe Caporelli?"

"Maroni made guy, works outta the auto garage on 4th? Yeah." Kingsley answered. "What about him?"

"He's been talking big, last while. About drug shipments and the like. New supplies, new supplier, new markets. Just the sort of thing to attract-what was his name- Maddox? Maybe he got mixed up in that."


[System]
_Lachrymose_

A light shortsword. Easy to wield with one hand and indeed agile, giving enough ample speed and leverage for swift parries and counter-attacks and quick slashes and thrusts, though it is less damaging compared to larger, more robust swords.

_Miseria_

A short steel dagger for close ranged stealth kills, small and concealable under any circumstances. There's a special compartment in the hilt of the dagger for a vial of poison.

_Raven's Feathers_

Sharpened and honed for the utmost aerodynamic design. They can be deployed rapidly in a cloud of deadly projectiles or used for a discreet, far ranged kill, maybe to get rid of a pesky guard or two (Maximum Limit: 12)

_Wind of Thanatos_

Only for those situations when accuracy is favored over close brutality. A special bow given to her by the Ravenhead, the arrows are magically imbued with a damaging poison upon every draw and grants the user the distinct Death's Eye, allowing them to see further and in more clarity than the average mortal. (Limit: 23 Arrows)
Age: 28

Rank: Elite

City Reputation: Killer for Hire

Personality:
There isn't much difficulty in getting along with Alena. Likewise, she is witty and has a very charming charisma about herself. She can be romantic at times too, but she fears growing too attached to people, especially if they may end up being her target one day. When she doesn't have her hands wet with blood, she enjoys strolls about the city and catching a few operas. However, on the job she takes a different personality, cold, methodical, and without remorse. Alena is skilled in both one handed and two handed melee combat and is a dead-eye in marksmanship. she is also an expert when it comes to parkour/free running, able to leap and bound and flow gracefully atop the city roofs and high passages. As for stealth, Alena is like a spirit looming upon you when you least expect her.

Trivia:
Tends to show more of a preference towards women

Bio:
House-Carthenwald was once the most prominent of families who were part of the aristocracy of Karstberg, a small island nation of the Mercarian Sea. Alena's father, Magnus, was the head of an illustrious trading company that operated in the Market District, selling and trading rare goods that were gathered from all across the globe. He shared the business with his half brother and Alena's uncle, Venius, yet rebuked Venius' idea that the company should be dealing arms and armaments instead of rare spices and such, as he did not wish to be a merchant of blood. Little did he know this would have consequences. Magnus fell in love later on with Marianne, a beautiful and famous actress and opera singer, and married, where upon later they had a daughter, Alena.

Twas thanks to her mother that Alena was raised in an environment steeped in music and the arts. She loved to hear her mother sing and enjoyed watching her plays and her concerts with her father. When she turned thirteen, Magnus entrusted his business to her, along with all of his riches. It was an action that further angered Venius, and soon he retaliated in violence. One night, a band of mercenaries hired by Venius stormed the Carthenwald Manor. Magnus was slain trying to defend his home and his family and Marianne was later murdered by the men. Alena survived the attack, unaware that Venius was the orchestrator of this vile action. As she watched her family's illustrious and elegant manor erupt in flames, she fled from the city and towards the forest in fear of her own life still being forfeit.

She was attacked there upon by a gang of ruthless bandits, but rescued by a man in a dark cloak and form-fitting armor. He was Matthias Grimm, the head of a secret and illegal guild of assassins known simply as the Coven of Thorns, not to mention a worshiper of the God of Death. Matthias saw great potential in Alena more or less as a whipped pup that lacked training, judging by the pain she harbored for the loss of her beloved family and noted upon her desire to punish those responsible. So he inducted her into the Coven. It was a baptism in blood for Alena. For the next thirteen years, she endured the Coven's brutal and often fatal training regiment, shattering away the innocence of an aristocratic young girl and shaping her down into a weapon of cold lethality. She took upon herself the most daunting of assignments, often times placing her in the thick of peril, yet she would return successful and unscathed. Yet, after all these years serving the Coven, she still clung to her main goal, revenge....

It wasn't till later upon investigating the ruins of her family home for her own that she discovered the perpetrator of those vile crimes years ago, Venius Carthenwald, now head of her father's company, usurper of her family legacy. And as though fate could not be cruel enough, Venius became one of her clients. Though seething with rage behind clenched teeth, Alena met with her loathsome uncle and a contract was arranged, Venius now seeking to forego business and aspire to higher...more political ambitions. It would be the most prolific assassination ever carried out by the Coven, the murder of Karstberg's High Emperor.

Months went into planning the attack, Alena and Matthias working tirelessly to make the perfect arrangements for the Emperor's death. Soon came the day destined, but though the assassination went smoothly....everything after...fell into Oblivion. Once Alena met with Venius to confirm the kill, she was caught by his mercenaries and stripped of her cloak, revealing her identity to him, yet in fact he knew all along. He tried to have her killed, but without much effort she slew his sellswords and him as well. Upon his dying breath however, he snickered, Now I've slain BOTH your families.

These words, they struck fear into her heart. She raced from the city back to the forest, again that damning smell of smoke looming about the air and the ghastly vermillion glow emanating through the trees. It was just as Venius proclaimed so wicked and arrogantly even in death....the Coven had been put to the sword. Amidst the burning rubble of the Coven Sanctuary, Alena searched for survivors, sustaining a few scathing wounds as a wooden beam graced her shoulder. Neither she could find, all around her the assassins lying dead. But then she heard a cough, ragged and filled with smoke. It was Matthias, impaled by a blade into the wall, yet still breathing barely. In his last waking hours upon the realm of the living, he had but one last request for Alena, his protege.......live, go and seek life elsewhere but Karstberg, fly upon the Raven's wings to sanctuary.

Alena honored his request and with tears in her eyes she granted the suffering old man eternal rest.

From that day on, Alena has traveled from continent to continent, never giving up the life of an assassin. She has still kept with the old traditions as well, taking contracts and fulfilling them at her own discretion. She's made a hefty sum of gold, though she resumes to live a meager existence, hidden beyond the veil of shadows.

[User] Shadow had long since given up on getting to any help so he just rolled himself over and look up at the sky. He wished that he could have done a bit more good in his life. he felt numb but that was nothing he was going to focus on. he had trained ever since the death of his parents. he fought with all the people that tried to teach him and now he was laying on a road in a city feeling like crap and dying. his mind traced back to try and figure out why he felt this way. he had lost blood yes but this was worse. he was slowly losing every thing. his will to fight his strength and his life all were fading. in a moment he knew what it was. the damn blade that cut him had to have had poison on it. a slow acting poison that he had yet to encounter yet was his best guess. he smiled and then gave a laugh it hurt like hell but he didn't care. taken out by cheap tactics what a way to go.

[Assistant] "YAH,YAH!" he wiped his horse into over drive until he came upon an urchin camp. "well, we need to make sure her spies never make it" he hitched his horse and walked in "Who wants some food" he drew his knife and 'set to work' on the boys and girls (I know its wrong but after the fleeing i know you would be mad so he is damage controliing)

[User] " Aery I need to talk to you about something else" Celaena looked at Aery as they walked to some place else " When you helped me in the castle, I seen a few guards hesitate to harm you, anything to say?" Celaena crouched to her knees so she was eye level to Aery, she softly lay her hands on Aerys shoulders

[Assistant]
"Hmph! Well that was quite rude. I expected better of a legend." Alena huffed deciding to leave the scene. Besides, there were contracts to fulfill instead of shooting the breeze with someone...who rather loathed her company, even if that someone be a well-known assassin.

Following upon one last tip from the embittered businessman that was Lastraad before he and the assassin had parted ways, Alena continued her swift and hasty stride across the rooftops and the high passages of majestic Karstberg in pursuit of her designated target. According to the angry man and his venomous spouting of utterances towards the dark haired woman with eyes red as blood, the bastard known only as Lucien Balford was a well round drunkard who haunted a tavern in the eastern quarter of the city, a place where Alena might expect to find a lowlife such as Balford.

From high atop, she leapt to the city streets below her feet, landing safely and displaying such grace a woman of the hidden blade could exhibit. None could see her beautiful visage though hidden behind the thick scarf that obscured her luscious yet subtle lips and her petite nose and the black hood draped over her head, concealing the rest of her face in infinite shadows, the only feature Alena revealed of her identity were a pair of gleaming red eyes that peered through the darkness unto the other citizens who passed by her without a care or a second glance towards the black clad woman ominously stalking through the crowded streets and back alleys. Despite the reputation of this crime ridden district, the passages of the eastern quarter were rather lax and unguarded, not a single armed guard of the city watch patrolling the area, which only made this task so much easier than the journey from the catacombs to Bartleby's Tavern without catching sight of the nuisances armored in their thick plate and mail, nuisances being they offered no challenge to the woman, so slow and so easy to dispatch.

Alena approached the tavern's door, carefully turning the knob and nudging it open with a subtle creak of the old pinewood, immediately being sucker-punched by the raw stench of old ale and that oft musky odor of well...men, nefarious men at that. Her uninvited intrusion frankly fell unnoticed by Bartleby's many intoxicated occupants since it was drowned by their raucous drunk debauchery and cantankerous merrymaking. Most, if not many of these scruffy and bearded burly few, were sea captains and sailors who made their living upon the vast oceans, either sailing forth merchant and trader ships or fishing the high seas for a plentiful bounty to bring to market. The clanking of their iron tankards and their boastful hearty laughter intermingled with many a sea shanty they bellowed jovially. In all honesty, they were quite the vocalists in Alena's opinion, but the woman was not here to applaud the singing of sailors. Balford, he was here somewhere. It would've been sufficient if Lastraad could've given a better mental picture of this malicious ne'er do well, but the only clue he could give Alena of Balford's identity was he was a fat man with bright red hair, and from Alena's point of view, there were alot of men here who fit that particular description, however thanks to his haggard demeanor, Balford outed himself to his death dealer.

"Bartelby ye old codger! Another round of Ale for me hearties!" There he was, the obese buffoon hollering to the elderly yet still broad barkeep for more booze for him and his comrades, a select few of burly men, shirtless and obscenely immodest but their chests brandished the scars of many a tussle, not to mention a mat of nodded hairs, and some wondered why Alena preferred the company of women over men. "Right away, Balford ye ole sea dog! Aurelia! Take these fine gents their ale! That table over there!" Bartleby handed the tray of tankards, filled to the brim with intoxicating ale, to a rather scraggly young barmaid, a petite figure with dusty blonde hair in a tousled mess around her shoulders, but a face as fair as an angel. I would be damned to ever frequent such a place if I were her. Alena pondered eyeing the lovely young lady, carefully sauntering across the tavern in all her dark cloak and armor towards her, all the while fetching a small vial of an ominous black substance of sorts from the pommel of her dagger sheathed to her side, next to her sword no less. "Ah...pardon me, mademoiselle." She spoke softly to the barmaid, feigning an accidental bumping into of the woman's tray she carried, but no less a faint smile crossing her lips as she saw the drops of dark liquid dissolve into Balford's beverage, along with his mates' drinks for good measure. "I should be more careful next time. Forgive me." Afterwards, before making her exit, she turned at the door to see Balford gulp down his ale.

"URGH!! B-bloody hell!" Immediately his hand grasped his fat neck as he gasped for air and groaned in an infernal storm of agony. Saliva, frothy and red with his own blood, began to seep from the cracked crevices of his mouth, and soon a torrent of red exhumed from his lips and unto the knotty cedar of the table where he sat. His chums soon followed with their own cries of pain and suffering, a commotion it did cause, but before the perpetrator was discovered, she would be long gone from this den of undesirable denizens. Before her departure though, the sly woman jumped at the opportunity to leave a kiss upon the cheek of the barmaiden, "Fare thee well, my lovely." And out the door she was, scaling the high wall next to her and taking to the rooftops again, vanished before the watch soon arrived to investigate this vile account of foul play.


[System]
Age: 24
Gender: Male

Weapons:
-Light armor suit for the vacuum of space and other hazardous environments. Limited temperature control and oxygen storage suitable only for short duration in harmful situations. Low protection from impact and ricocheted bullets as well, but unable to stop a direct hit. Also equipped with magnetic fasteners for maneuvering in zero-gravity.
-A shrapnel shotgun with a six-round clip, suitable for dealing antipersonnel damage in the close confines of a spaceship, yet not so strong as to break holes in the bulkheads.
-A fusion torch and soldering rods for cutting and repairing. Included in the kit is a cooling tool to rapidly seal the molten solder.
-Packs of chemical explosive gel. High-tech plastic explosives for breaching and general destruction.
-Flash, gas, concussion, and shrapnel grenades with set with either a timer or remote detonation.

Position on Infinity: Technician and Demolitions

Reasons they joined The Infinity
Alfred has no personal vendetta against the alien race, but is rather fighting for adventure and a large salary.
Bio
Alfred grew up in his father's workshop, covered in grease and metal shavings, and loving every moment of it. He picked up a wrench as soon as he could hold one, and brought an internal combustion engine for his first-grade show-and-tell. When he was twelve, Alfred started as the junior member on a pit crew for a rookie driver, and won his way to fame as the driver took second place in the NASCAR sprint.

He won a scholarship to a prestigious school in Massachusetts, and met with a recruiter while in his second year. Dropping out of school, and filled with adventurous spirit, he was on the first shuttle to the fleet's training base on Mars. After the required 6 months of training, he shipped out on assignment as junior technical officer, and received a field promotion when the senior officer died in a firefight. Alfred was wounded in a later battle, and returned to Earth for a 12-month medical leave.

Other:
-Due to the amount of tools under Alfred's supervision, he carries a small satchel strapped to his back containing the fusion torch, soldering rods, cooling tool, and chemical explosive packs. The grenades and remote detonator are attached to a bandolier across his chest.
-The grenades need to be programmed before throwing, taking about 10-15 seconds per grenade.

[User] "Aaaaaaaaah!" Gasped Soloman as he jerked upwards in his bed. He just had that dream again. The dream where the only real parent he ever knew Captain Mark Brown of The Infinity, died in an alien raid. He would know, he was there. When Mark died he gained control of his ship. He quickly got out of bed, the scar on his chest from the raid Mark died in throbbed like hell. "Better get changed, so I can meet those new recruits. Let's pray the're not as idiotic as the last bunch." In about 10 minutes, Soloman managed to get changed. The day the new recruits came in was allways the worst day of his life. He hated them all, they usually thought they were in for a run life of adventure. He had seen enough death to kno that there's no such thing. He marched over to the intercom in his room to make a message. "Wake up, crew." His low husky british accent rang out all through The Infinty. "I expect you all to be in the briefing room in 15 minuets. Captain over and out." Gathering up his folder he marched to the briefing room and placed his folder on the table on his little stage, his face the image of to much self confidence, perversion, and a general jerk-like nature.

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

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

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

[Assistant]
Brian Savior

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

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

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

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

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

[Assistant]
Brian Savior

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

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

[Assistant]
Brian Savior

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

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

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

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

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

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


[System]
Species: Human

Gender: Female

Age: 34

Nationality: Outreman, previously citizen of Angjusk

Occupation: Deputy head of department - Cradle Research & Development

Cybernetics:
* Cradle quick-access implant - Allows access to and from the Cradle environment without additional hardware. This advanced module also reduces fatigue caused by the process, allowing power users multiple entries in a single day.
* Tier 7c 'Cradle Builder' suite - Grants access to the programs created specifically for 'terraforming' the Cradle. Tier 7 out of 20 allows Freyr to auto-build a variety of specialised equipment and propose-build mid level structures.
* Ilyes Brand communication and productivity module - Standard implant for access to Outremer's communications network. Also integrates with many well known productivity tools like a personal assistant, as well as more bespoke scientific tools.

Backstory:
Freyr was born on Angjusk, an older colony than Outremer that was renowned for its military materiel, particularly star ships.

Her mother was an innovations tsar assigned by the government to a consortium of the planet's largest ship manufacturers. During most of Freyr's childhood, her mother's sole task was making sure Angjusk battle fleets were the best money could buy in the Diaspora.

Before she was born, her father owned and operated a series of protein farms across Angjusk. After a chance encounter at a lobby meeting, he was headhunted to co-ordinate the military industrial complex's entire food supply chain. He also met his future wife, as it was Freyr's mother who had recommended him for the job on that fateful day in the lobby.

Freyr was born five years later. Her early life was a whirlwind of schooling, snatches of intimacy with her parents (when they weren't busy) and extended periods with friends. She discovered a natural capacity for learning and excelled in her studies. So much so that she received offers from universities across the Diaspora to come and develop with them.

Her mother and father both pressured her to consider diplomas like Interplanetary Relations or Agrarian Policy. However Freyr was not interested in pursuing a career in politics. Angjusk has been involved in at least a dozen small conflicts since Freyr had been born. She had seen how politicians would destroy entire cultures for the sake of influence, and wanted none of it.

In her first act of defiance, Freyr accepted a position at a school in Babylon, the main city of a far away frontier colony called Outremer. Driven more by the desire to have time away from her planet than by the subjects on offer, she researched what Outremer was known for. It was here that she first discovered the object powering this section of the Diaspora - the Cradle.

She quickly became obsessed with its untapped potential and seemingly unknowable past. She decided to pursue Xenobiology and Machine Intelligence as her subjects of interest, voraciously consuming the knowledge gathered so far on the Cradle.

It was here at the university that she met her future partner, David, who was studying art history. Isolated from her family and friends, alone on a strange planet, Freyr was glad of his unassuming company and kindness. They grew very close over the course of their degrees, and moved in together after graduation. Their daughter Amy was born a few years later.

After Uni, Freyr was picked up by an Outremer administration outreach team and placed in a government career fast lane. Her obsession with the Cradle made her an obvious choice for the Cradle Research & Development department. Once there, she quickly proved herself capable. Several breakthroughs in her first five years meant she was allowed to hand select a team of dynamic young individuals to help pursue her work. A couple more catapulted her into a deputy head of department role, to the ire of some of it's older and more entrenched members.

It was on her 34th birthday that the Cradle abducted her family. It had been acting strangely for weeks prior, rolling back years of terraforming. Freyr had been working round the clock to figure out why, practically living at her field office by the Border. David had bought sweet treats and had Amy with her.

What can only be described as creatures emerged from beyond the Border and overran the camp. A panic spread through the mostly unarmed workers, leading many to flee for their lives. Freyr's last memory of her family was being propelled across the camp by one of the creatures. She could only watch from her position immobile on the floor as they carried off her husband and little girl.

Security forces conducted a sweep of the immediate area beyond the Border, but found no sign of them. So Freyr began looking by herself as soon as her broken bones were reconstructed. Months went by. Her work stopped and her mental health deteriorated. Eventually she was placed on sick leave and her access revoked, after she attempted to use her influence to organise an armed excursion deep into the uncontrolled zone.

[User]
"I see." The man nodded thoughtfully at Vreta's description of the attack. "Is this true?" His eyes drilled into Freyr. She nodded shakily. "Yeah, pretty much. I'm sorry...who did you say you were again?" The man smiled. "I wouldn't worry about that right now, Dr Lang. The main thing is that i'm here to help - both of you." He looked at Vreta again. "I also wouldn't worry about this place. It will be a fortress by dawn tomorrow. We have our best terraformers on it." The man gestured for both of them to walk through the glass doors into the transit station as they slid open. "Please, after you."

The large, bright, sparsely furnished room Freyr had arrived in only an hour or two ago had been totally transformed. An entire command centre of holo-consoles and other equipment was being set up around the outside, leaving an open space in the middle for people to spawn in and out. Freyr could see a wide variety of people milling around. There were engineers and technicians in white jumpsuits, connecting up even more gear. There were at least half a dozen terraformers in whatever clothes they'd decided to program in. Freyr also spotted a few other people in the same black uniform as the man with the augmented eyes, who had now followed them through the double doors. These black-clad people all turned to stare directly at them, making Freyr feel incredibly vulnerable.

"Please, take a seat." The man with the augmented eyes urged, walking past them to sit at an ornate wooden desk. There were two chairs facing him on the other side. After a split second, the man exclaimed. "Ah, of course, the chair!" He loudly snapped his fingers and a nearby terraformer turned around. The man gestured to Vreta, and after sizing him up for a moment, the terraformer hit a few options on her holo-interface. One of the chairs seemed to disassemble and reassemble in a flurry of half-digital moving parts. When everything settled, Freyr could see a large stool, presumably suitable for tailed reptilians. "Please." The man smiled, gesturing to the seats again. Freyr sat down, growing slightly uneasy.

"Now - this creature you speak of. Is it the same creature as the ones who abducted those Skinners?"

"Yeah." Freyr nodded, slightly thrown off by the fact that this man knew about the abductions.

"It came back? Why?"

"I uh, I don't know." Freyr turned to look at Vreta. "You said that it was doing something with a device when you found it. What kind of device?"

The man looked at Vreta as Freyr spoke, his facial expression completely unfathomable.

[Assistant]
"You can fortify all you want, but don't underestimate these things. I don't know what these things are, exactly, but if they're from the Cradle, then you're fighting on their territory, not yours. You didn't create this place." Vreta warned.

In any case, Vreta followed the man into the transit station. Although, he could not help but to be disappointed that they did not return from the Cradle right away. He had a multitude of reasons for wanting to be rid of this place. He did take a seat on the stool provided for him on the man's insistence, but Vreta's general discomfort started to become more and more visibly apparent the longer the man spoke.

Vreta was making a few mental notes on the topic Freyr discussed with the man. While he had guessed this already, their conversation did confirm that the creatures were related to the disturbance at the office building. In his research since he arrived on Outremer, Vreta had heard of the Skinners. Their goals and methods earned them the label of terrorists, though with what Vreta had seen of the Cradle, he personally felt they might have the right of it. Regardless, he did not bring it up. When Vreta was finally questioned directly, he decided to give a show of cooperation with an honest answer. "I can't be completely sure. When I investigated the shed, I only got a look inside for a few seconds before that thing knocked out the power. Just by its appearance, it might have been some kind of communications equipment."

Vreta revealed yet more of his discomfort when his grimace showed his bloodstained teeth. Glancing to the side, he put more pressure on his injured arm. "Look, I'm willing to talk about this with you, but I'd really rather not do this in the Cradle. That creature knocked out a few of my teeth, by arm burns like the ninth ring, and frankly, the blood loss is distracting. More importantly, I'm not completely convinced that border isn't going to come crashing down on us again at any moment. Did those creatures really retreat, or are they just gathering their forces? I promise my cooperation for every one of your questions if we return to the real world. Like I said, my name is Vreta'Sori, representative of the Zuraxi'Synkuur corporation. I'm staying on the twenty-first floor of the Synastar Hotel. You look like a man with the authority to run my identity, so I'm sure you can get confirmation this is all true. Someone as high-profile as me, you know I can't just escape unnoticed. I'll go back to my hotel room and wait for you there; you have my word."

[User]
The fact that the creature may have been interfacing with exo-Cradle comms equipment rang alarm bells in Freyr's head. What could it have been doing? However, she held her tongue at this moment. It was abundantly clear that the alien was in a lot of pain, and didn't want to stick around to talk here. She couldn't blame him; the events of the last hour would almost certainly haunt her forever.

However, she could find some kernels of hope among this sea of despair - she was reasonably sure her family were still alive somewhere. She was also confident she'd gathered more useful data today than in the previous ten years of work. She just needed to go home and assimilate all the information for it to be any use. She knew where Vreta was staying - she resolved to talk with him privately about the specifics if she could.

The man with augmented eyes nodded considerately at Vreta's story. "I understand completely, we'll get you back to the real world in just a moment - we know where both of you are. I just have one more question for you, Vreta'Sori. Why is it that you were in an evacuated crime scene today?"

While this was happening, Freyr could hear a slight commotion behind them. She turned to see the wounded from their trucks being stretchered inside. At the same time, the room hummed slightly, and looking over her other shoulder she caught a squadron of heavily armoured CraSec soldiers being spawned in. They lined up to grab weapons from an armaments locker before heading to the doors. There was a lot going on, and the questioning was getting a bit above her paygrade, so Freyr was longing to just get out of here.

[Assistant]
The Human's thinly-veiled accusation was apparent, but this was a game to which Vreta was no stranger. He did not give any hint to his thoughts in his reaction, letting out only something of an amused hum. "Well, the simple answer is that I wasn't." Vreta replied.

Vreta paused just a moment, letting out a grunt as he shifted his injured arm into a more comfortable position. "Like I said, I'm a representative of the Zuraxi'Synkuur corporation. I am not at liberty to discuss all of the details of our transactions, but suffice to say that we have extensive dealings with the corporation that holds this district. A part of our agreements stipulate that I am permitted to inspect their testing and production facilities to ensure they meet our agreed-upon standards. That was why I came here today. I got wind of a disturbance in one of our partners' holdings, so I wanted to ensure they were not at fault for whatever was happening. Negligence on their part could affect our contracts with them. This district was not locked down, either by its owner or the Outremer government, and I had full permission to be here. I respected all boundaries set by your men at the crime scene and did not trespass. The shed I investigated was outside the perimeter set by your soldiers. Whether or not they should have restricted access to that building is between you and your officers, but I broke no laws in entering. I can provide you copies of all of the necessary legal documents, once we are out of the Cradle."

[User]
The man nodded, stretching his face into a taut smile. His eyes remained fixed on the alien. After a pregnant pause, he replied "Great, well, I think I have everything I need for today. We'll take it from here. Thank you both - I'm terribly sorry this happened to you. Dr Lang, I know this must weigh particularly heavy on you." The man's stare began unlocking all the horrors of the day, and Freyr felt her own eyes welling up with tears. "A liaison will be with you both tomorrow. Freyr, I took the liberty of signing off some military-grade PTSD meds for you; they should be arriving at your apartment soon. Get a good night's rest, and we'll be in touch." He nodded, to signal that he'd finished talking.

Freyr got up shakily, desperate to get away from all these people. She turned to Vreta and mumbled something which may have sounded like 'thank you for saving me' before rushing to the centre of the room and logging out of the Cradle.