[System]
Age: 8 years old

Sex: Male

Appearance:
As depicted in the picture above and stands roughly at 3ft 1 inch tall.

Role: Warrior (Scout) and Hunter

Abilities:

* Now you see me... - Due to his irregular choice of apparel, he tends to stand out in a group of normal goblins.
* ...Now you don't. - Even so, he is exceptionally skilled in keeping hidden and moving silently...well for a goblin that is.
* Griz be nimble. - Griz may not be as strong as most of the other warriors, but he sure is one of the fastest and most dexterous of them all.
* Hits *just* right. - Griz's choice of weaponry may not be intimidating like a morningstar or a battle axe, but he sure knows how to use them to maximum effect.
* Hunter's Intuition. - Griz is at home in the wilderness just as he is in the village. He is knowledgable in survival skills as well as hunting skills.
* Pyrophobic. - Due to an incident when he was a youngling, Griz is extremely wary around large open flames.

Clothing/Equipment:

* Black Hooded Cloak. - A cloak made from dyed leather modified to fit a goblin's diminutive size.
* Black Leather Shorts. - A pair of shorts made with dyed leather modified to fit a goblin's diminutive size.
* Cloth Hand and Foot Wraps. - Strips of cloth used to muffle and offer mild protection to the hands and feet.
* Iron Hunting Knife. - A simple single-edged knife meant for hunting animals. Griz's most reliable weapon.
* Wood Short Bow and Arrows. - Mundane bow and arrows made from the wood of the surrounding trees. Griz's favoured weapon.

[User]
Koglan smiles, "There now you are getting it. Your children will be formidable! With you as their mother Siwa, you may well bear the next Great Generation." He chuckles. then rests back in his chair suddenly, looking a little pained. He hums and rests an arm on the table top, "you say you are prepared to see your children die before you. I know, that this is likely the last litter I may help bear." He groans, "I'm old Siwa I know this. I'm 17 years old now. I may end up rushing our son through his apprenticeship, so there is a Armor and Weapon Smith to take over after me. I may still possess the muscles of a Smith, but the rest of me is old." He unconsciously flexes his arms, shoulders and chest muscles, the ropes and cords of powerful muscle rippling.

He smiles, "But I will be glad to know that though in a few year old age will take me that I will have left things for our tribe to remember me by. And will have finally passed my skills on to a goblin worthy of working this forge." He groans, "I'm fully ready to know that any of the children I have helped bear will outlive me. I don't have long." He chuckles then smiles, "But I will go out strong! I won't stop! Not until all the strength has left my arms and the ancestors finally call on me to take my place among them!" He crowws these last words, for a moment looking young and hale.

He stands up then looks out a window as a few young goblin girls walk by, overhearing, "Did you hear? Bredan and Griz came back and what a catch. Brendan looks to be coming along well." Koglan's eyebrows rocket up and he grins, "Interesting." He looks back to Siwa, "My pardon Siwa, but I think I have a new project to tend too. On your travels. If you happen to see Bredan can you ask him to come to my forge the day after tomorrow? In the morning if he can. I think he's earned something. Finally." He nods. then hums, "And Griz too maybe. That repaired knife of his well it might need to be replaced." He bows to Siwa, "If you could at any rate dear girl."

@Aristocles

[Assistant]
"Thanks! I don't remember the last time I used something made of iron before" Breden knelt down and rubbed the flint against the metal of the knife. All this did was to wear down the flint. "Oh, I need to strike it!" He did so, quickly creating some sparks. It took a while, but a flame started before too much longer. "There we go! Thanks, Griz!"

They cut the meat from the carcass and put it on the rack. It gave off a rather strong smell, something which could be detected several huts over.

"Is this was success smells like?" Breden chuckled. "I just hope I can pull this off on my own, and soon. Not sure if I could've taken that deer down without you."

She couldn't help but chuckle. "There's nothing that great about me. I've done things I'm not too proud of. No one died, I mean, and I didn't stoop to selling my-" she let it hang there for a moment. "- but I have had a few nights with human men before. It was just- they were so much larger than goblin males and I was curious. You should know that about me, but please don't tell anyone else. The shaman doesn't like it when we waste our urges on infertile pairings. Those are supposed to keep the tribe going, not be for selfish pleasures." There was a pause. "Although I suppose it feels good to confess it. And you were far better than any human man. They've got size, but that's the only thing."

She waited for Koglan to finish speaking first. "17 isn't so old that you won't have time to train an apprentice to take your place, and you may get the chance to help out some other ladies before your time comes, don't worry." Her ears perked up at the news that Breden and Griz caught something.

"I'll have to go see them soon, then, and I'll ask Breden that. Thanks again!" She moved in to Koglan and gave him a kiss. "It's best that I be on my way in just a bit. We've both got a lot to do. And if Breden really did just get back from a hunting trip, he could probably use a good rubdown."

[User]
"You're welcome and don't sell yourself short, Breden. You've come a long way from where you were three months ago. And if you still doubt your skill, then keep this as a reminder." Griz cuts a long segment of his cloth arm wrap with his dagger. "A reminder of the lessons you've learned. A reminder of all the hardships you've overcome through diligence and hard work. But most importantly, let this be a reminder that you're stronger than you let yourself know." Griz then hands Breden the segment of cloth, long enough for him to wrap it around his arm or make it a headband if he so pleases. He lets the young goblin process what he's said before talking once again.

"It's going to be a while until all the meat gets smoked. Care to help me bring the bones and blood to the shaman's hut to leave it as an offering to the Spirits?"

[Assistant]
"Three months is a long time. I've got maybe 20 to 25 years in this life. Still, if you really think it was a good job, I won't question it." He checked on the meat for a moment before Griz spoke again.

"And yes, I'd be happy to make an offering. Not sure how we'll move the blood, but the bones are easily given. It's good that I have something to offer for a change. Oh, and thanks for the cloth. Might be useful as a bandage or something. Are you sure that we should leave this much meat alone? Some hungry passer-by might be tempted to take a bit of it if we're not here."

[User]
Ashe being Ashe, she didn't sleep that night working on a new type of potion which could explode with small sharp splinters when thrown. Midday she realised she was still needed ingredients to make more than the trial potion she managed to brew.
Her life in the village was hard at first, most goblins seemed primitive at best to her and the language was hard for her to learn but as with most things that needed one's intelligence, she managed to learn it to some degree. While everyone being wary, as goblins were mistrustful creatures, Ashe managed to truly be part of the village when she proved her knowledge of alchemy.

Stepping out from her laboratory, which basically was a small place where she could brew her potions in peace, she spotted the perfect people to help her with trial and ingredient gathering.

Griz and Breden. Both being hunters, they were perfect for her plan. Goblin children were running around. That was something she was not been made to do yet, being a stranger, having children with the other goblins but in the end, she'll have to do it.
Approaching them, she bowed her head, as she was taught when interrupting two people talking, she said :

" Hello Griz, Breden. I'm in need of help.
I think I managed to make a new weapon for the tribe but I need to see it tested in battle or on one of your hunting trips.
I'll explain on the way how to use it and I'll have to accompany you as I'll need to see the results myself.
Hope you don't have any problems with that. ".

[Assistant]
"Then let them take what they need from the rack. Besides, a whole deer would be too much even for the two of us." Griz chuckles as he hands Breden his share of the bones. The blood, however, would have to wait as they couldn't possibly tote around the bones all the while carrying a large bowl filled to the brim with blood without great risk of spilling it. Once they have gathered their respective shares, they leave the back of Griz's hut.

On their way to the shaman's hut, they encountered the newest addition of their tribe. An al-ke-mist, whatever she calls herself, by the name of Ashe. A strange gobliness that arrived at their village over a winter ago and one that had more human characteristics than Griz was comfortable with. But, despite her eccentricities, she was a helpful addition as she helps the village with her brews and concoctions. Much like the shaman but less connected with their religion. "A weapon? Interesting. What do you expect it to do?" Griz says as he keeps walking to the hut, expecting her to follow them while explaining the details of her weapon.

[User]
@Searat

"I suppose so. Still, I'll need to take the same amount of meat as before. Half a deer will be enough for me for a while, as long as I keep it as fresh as possible" Breden remarked. "There's no telling when my next successful hunt will be, not counting squirrels and other tiny prey." He took the bones and followed Griz to the shaman's hut. The shaman wasn't home, although another goblin was.

"It's that new girl, the one with the heavy clothes." At least she had the good sense to eschew footwear, an article of clothing goblins had a hard time imagining how to make let alone using. He set the bones at an altar near the shaman's hut and turned to listen to Ashe.

"A weapon? Might be useful. I'd like to help. You don't want to use it on either of us, do you?"

[Assistant]
@Aristocles

Seeing them carrying the meat and bones, Ashe could only think one thing. Goblin religion which didn't make sense to her, like most goblin things, but understood the grasps on it well enough not to anger anyone.
Like most inventors, she didn't believe fully that such powers existed and they would've they would simply be creatures with greater technology than anyone else.

Ashe chuckled slightly at Breden's words, while she was accepted in the tribe, not many expect for maybe the shaman, understood what she did and that made her scary.
" This one ain't for you, haven't made a poison yet but when I do, you'll be the first to test it. " joked Ashe, a small smile on her face.
Turning to the experienced hunter, Griz, she proceeded in explaining the details of the weapon.
"It's pretty simple. If you add some special powder with a bit of nightshade and a few splinters then proceed into putting some rope and burning it, it should technically, explode and throw the splinters in every direction.
I need to test it but I can't do it here in the village. Too many kids around. Too dangerous. "

[User]
The Forge of Koglan Ironweaver had gone quiet for a time. Mostly due to Siwa's visit and subsequent talk they had. But after Siwa had left Koglan is back on his feet and at the forge. The heat of the forge once again billowing up and about. Koglan has another project, something for the tribe this time. Something that would help the tribe as a whole, just as it would help two young goblins in their day to day life. This is the path of a Smith. And Koglan's energy is renewed, with the prospect that he can help another few members of the tribe.

A pair of knife billets, a foot and a half long each, , a half foot to be the tang and the handle. Good long blades, good for a fight and good for hunting besides. He nods, looking on as the metal heats, "I can see the blades already. Yes good double sided, cutting and stabbing, and will carry an edge well. Oh yes.

He pulls the chain on the billows and with a woosh the flames within the forge jump, the billets brightening. He reaches in with a tongs pulling one of the bright glowing red billets out, "And we begin." Over to the anvil, hammer in hand. The strikes of the hammer against metal. As he does a few young heads peek into the forge. One of the young goblins whispering, "Look at him go! Koglan must have had some kind of inspiration huh?" Koglan's arm descends again with a clang, smooth powerful strokes. He's got iron to weave again for a good cause.

[Assistant] Griz grew slightly pale at the mention of the word 'explode'. The word brought back painful memories from when he was still a youngling. The chaos of a raging battle. The exploding ball of fire. The pained screams of his mother and siblings. The heat of the spreading flame that nearly claimed him. Griz's eyes grew vacant for a moment. Looking forward but unfocused on anything in front of him, like he was looking beyond at something the others couldn't see. The memories went as quickly as they had come. It was only for a moment but, to Griz, it felt unnaturally long. It felt like he relived the day the adventurers came. "Ah...I'm sorry but...I'm not comfortable with explosions. Or large open flames for that matter." He then looks to Breden. "Breden, would you mind if you tested it out instead? I'll make sure to pay you back."


[System]
Avey storm rider,

Age: 19
Gender: M
Appearance:
* Height: 6'2"
* Weight: 92kg
* Eye colour: (Heterochromia) Green with blue invading around the left pupil.
* Hair: long dark brown
* Physique; athletic
* Clothes: Simple natural clothing.
* Tattoos & body mods:

Future Specialisation: Master of skies (flying types)
Summon(s):
Lowest Grade* Iju (air elemental)
*

Low Grade*

Personality: To say Averius was an odd child would be an understatement, to assume he had out grown it would be gravely inaccurate. Just as genius can be found in the misfortunate and mad, the inner workings of Avey's mind was both a mysterious blessing and a curse.
He is very kind and gentle but often lost in his own world.

Backstory: Avey grew up on a simple farmland, his busy parents loved him dearly but his aloof attitude proved to be more of a hindrance then help.
A few bad seasons saw the crops wilt and flocks die. Life became harsh. They feared for their child's health.
Knowing he was different and quite unique they sent him for his summoner testing, hoping and preying he would pass and be given a better life.

[User] Asad had no trouble during the marathon against the golem. Such exercises were practically the norm for him during his training under Medusa. Unfortunately meditation was out of his skill set, he could fill Eira faintly but couldn't seem to connect to her no matter how hard he concentrated on her. He scowled a bit when Koga said they should be ready to expel their summons power. That meant he was falling behind. "Snowflake, I could really use your help right now..." He muttered under his breath hoping Eira would somehow hear him.  "I'm hopeless at this kind of thing so I need you to pick up my slack, Kiddo."

[Assistant]
The two quieted down when Koga began speaking again. Channelling the power of the summon to you and use it. That was basically what he was saying right? "Right, right, that. Yeah, I'm willing to help!" Skelly said. Vincent then recalled how their powers were in sync upon summoning him. With the aid of Skelly, he managed to do it. This was something he couldn't read in the books so this was a first time experience, blindly stumbling into the basics. Although it was quite simple once he learned how to do it. He took a deep breath as he felt the power channel into him.

He raised his palm upwards and then focused the energy there. It wasn't soon until a small ball of black energy appeared at the center of his palm. A little more concentration made it shoot out into the open air. Vincent grinned as he looked at the fading ball of darkness and then to his palm. "Good job Vincy!" Skelly exclaimed in his mind. Vincent didn't reply but he did nod and he knew Skelly felt that. That was pretty cool. To think he would be able to do that in a much larger scale and without meditating, the idea of it really makes him smile.

[User]
Like water off a ducks back the doctors words fail to settle on or affect Avarius.
 "You have two specialities yet hide them under the guise of one, your beliefs allow you to tie them together" he replies argumentatively. "Traditions can guide, but followed too loyally without question will only hinder and bind greater progress.
This establishment seeks to categorise, list, order, rank and control not only the summons but the summoner's as well. I too fear it will only take me so far."

Unwavering in his decisiveness Avarius jumps from the bed and leaves the room, catching his class as they start to expel summoned energy into the air.
Quickly taking a seat he tries to follow on, occasionally bothering those around him for advice.

To his left a black ball forms in a students hand. Void of any light, it then shot out into the air. The boy smiled proudly with accomplishment. Avarius gives him a little elbow nudge, "how'd you do that?"@Polaris North

[Assistant]
Light

Vincent was still impressed and surprised by what he did by the time Avarius nudged and asked him about it. He was about to ask why he wanted to know given that he should've listened to Koga but quickly saw that he was the same guy that kind of got sent to the nurse's office twice this day. Probably explains why he doesn't know.

"Well you first meditate and communicate with your summon. Once you do that, remember the feeling at the last part of your summon when you powers aligned." He wasn't sure if the latter would apply to Avarius but that's what he needed. He then continued, "Then you concentrate that power to the palm of your hand, point it at the sky and shoot it out. Your summon should help you out."

[User]
North

Lance listened to what Vincent was explaining to Avarius, Lance blocked out everything and began to focus. He felt himself dive deep inside himself. "you there Rajin?" Lance said telepathically. "yeah I'm here" Rajin replied, now that he knew that him and Rajin were connected, he tried to imagine energy flowing out through body, he held his arm straight up and felt a tingling sensation. Reminding him of when he made the contract with his summons, soon lighting starting conducting on his forearm. He then looked at his arm and saw the lighting. He then shot a small beak into the sky. He watched is it went a short distance soon dissipating into nothingness.

[Assistant]
To Vincent's dismay, Avarius was painfully good and adapt at the skill. As he spoke them, Avarius was following the instructions without a single tell tale sign of struggle or concentration. A gently soft breeze began to flow freely from his hand, but that was only the beginning.

The boy closes his eyes and feels the energy. A second more powerful wave trickled down his arm towards his hand, but before it reached there or could be expelled Avarius clasps his hands together in front of himself and the energy transfers into the other arm as it continues to build.

He never could just follow instructions.

He inhaled deeply as he directed the magic to his chest, that was his mistake. The gust of wind exploded free into his already filled lungs violently stretching and pushing up against the inner walls before it quickly escaped his mouth amongst a coughing fit as a small gust that threatened to hit Lance right in the face.

Avarius doubled over in pain taking erratic irregular breaths in between loudly coughing and spluttering.
His throat burnt and his lungs were internally bruised, along with the muscles and ribs that surrounded them.

He had nearly inflated himself like a balloon. His body didn't enjoy that at all and was letting him know.
Trying to hold a straight face, Avarius settles with tiny soft breaths as tears swell hidden in his eyes.
He looks to Lance to see if he accidentally hit him with the gust of wind.
@Polaris North

[User]
@Dark Light

Vincent took notice that someone else had listened in to his little reply and smiled as Lance started to do the exercise. It wasn't long until lightning appeared from his forearm and shot out into the sky. So that was his first element huh? Lightning, sounds good to him, really. Looks awesome too. "Nice going there Lance." He said with a thumbs up before looking back at Avarius.

The guy had no struggle at all. Well, it was a pretty easy exercise and considering the marathon the preceded this exercise, this was relatively easier. Vincent was about to say good job to him as well when he felt the gust of wind, however, it seems Avarius wanted to take it up a notch. The guy made some extra movements, movements that Vincent did not understand, and then seemed to inhale deeply. It seemed to be going well, whatever he wanted to do, until he started coughing violently.

A powerful gust of wind was exhaled from Avarius's mouth and towards Lance. Vincent quickly took initiative to push Lance out of the way. The gust didn't hit Vincent, that was for sure and he breathed a sigh of relief as he stood up and looked back at Avarius who seemed to have recovered from his coughing fit. He wasn't going to start scolding him now, Vincent was more than sure that a teacher would do more effect than him, so he sighed and sat down again. "Hey that was dangerous. You could've gotten someone else hurt." Vincent pointed out.

From what had happened, Vincent could make a little hypothesis. Avarius might have decided to store magic energy within his torso area, and since it was wind, it quickly built up to his already filled lungs (hinted by his deep inhalation earlier) and then his body threatened to pop. So the body did the next best thing, exhaling the wind as quickly as possible resulting to Avarius's coughing fit. However, in that coughing fit was the pent up magic causing the powerful gust of wind that could probably knock someone back and give them a few bruises. From that, Vincent could say that Avarius sustained internal damage. "Maybe you should go back to the nurse." He suggested.

[Assistant]
North @Dark Light @pkken

 Koga would be standing behind Avarius tapping his food "what do you think your doing..." he states bit of anger in his voice "I did not say you was allowed to do anything more than I had already stated" he says as Avarius can sudden feel the hit of exhaustion hit him from over extending his energy.

 "What would you of done if you killed yourself or one of the other students!" He shouts. "If your not going to listen, and learn at the pace I put for you then you need to leave immediately" he states "I'm pushed you to the physical exhaustion in order to free your mind of all other thoughts, I only had you do one thing in summoning so far as to ensure you would be able to keep training and not risk the life of those around you!!" He shouts "I will not teach a student who doesn't value his own life or that of others"

[User]
'You could have hurt someone' the words were truth and stung Avarius.
But like his lungs they only held pain if he gave it focus, right now he would admit to neither.

He rolls his shoulder as he begins to speak.
"Shoulders still a bit sore, you know, from when your golem attacked me. Had to find a different point to expel from. I got it this time, the release point is my lips not my lungs." he winces with an awkward smug smile.
"It's not like I'm throwing fire or lightning, I just didn't expect it to release on contact with the air in my lungs."

Despite his words Avarius sat submissively defeated, with that air so too went his energy. He wasn't used to this environment or being surrounded by so many people. He didn't want to hurt anyone nor did he want to leave yet. Drained, sore and exhausted Avarius fell in line. (For now)

[Assistant]
North@Dark Light@olcharlieboi

Lance turned to Vincent as he complimented his ability, Lance nodded with a small smile to show his thanks. Shortly after Attempted to take the training exercise a little farther and sent a gust of wind towards Lance but vincent pushed him out the way in time. "Thanks.." Lance said getting himself off the floor. Soon Koga came an started scolding Avarius, Lance listened as he brushed himself off.

[User]
Light@pkken@olcharlieboi

As expected, Koga entered the fray and then scolded Avarius once more. He was harsher this time, not using physical force but words. It was a little harsh though. Sure, someone could've gotten hurt but it would probably just blow someone away and give them bruises but it was probably not bad enough to kill somebody. Vincent didn't voice out anything though so he just looked at them.

Avarius seemed like the type of guy who thinks out of the box and tries everything else no matter how dangerous it is. As a curious person, Vincent could relate to his want to do something else but he never acted upon them because it was pretty dangerous.

[Assistant]
North @pkken @Dark Light
 Koga would rub his forehead and groan some and walk away from then then turn back to the students "I'll only say this once!" he states "Trying to experiment with your summoning abilities at your current stage of development will only result in injury and majority of the time death" he states to all of them "Like our student here did an example off.. he was lucky to get off with injury, if he hadn't lost concentration he could of ended up causing himself to explode" he states shaking his head "Always ask permission from me, Oni, or the headmaster if you want to experiment with anything so we can tell you of the risks... and if your even capable of doing something at your current level of development" he states.

 He would then stand back as the rest of the students did their first channeling, even Charles who was watching the scene play out.... with bit of an angry look at Avarius, Charles has seen some students die in this school so it doesn't sit well with him seeing another student try something. He would close his eyes and put his hand out into the air, his emotions would be mixed into it slightly causing a strong gust of wind to eject out from his hand into the air before dissipating.

 After the students finish Koga would look over all of them "everyone stand up" he states "Now we'll go on a trip" he states and starts walking towards the treeline heading east "Keep up, Keep up" he shouts to them.

[User] "If we somehow happened to succeed with experimenting with our summons, what would happen?" Avary asked Koga.

[Assistant]
Vincent thought about it. If they would experiment with their summons, they would have to ask the faculty huh? Yeah, he might do that after a while. There must be more than just a small ball of darkness that he can create. What can he associate with darkness? Blinding other perhaps? Or maybe create dark tendrils to ensnare or hurt others? Yeah, those sound good. He might need more time before he could do any of those but he has to try soon.

He then looked at Koga as he mentioned a trip. Ah well at least he managed to rest up before going walking again. He would then follow Koga as he would lead this trip.

[User] Avarius watched the rest of the class with intrigue, he then followed silently keeping his head down and trying to remain unnoticed.


[System]
Age: 21

Appearance:

Mark has been told a lot recently that he resembles an actor from a show he doesn't watch but he doesn't care. It's not like he tries to look like him. He just knows how to make himself look good. With his hair perfected and his outfits usually combining flannel, denim, and/or leather, he can't help when people mistake him for... What was his name again?

Personality: Mark isn't afraid to put a guy in his place, whether that guy is being a douche, being abusive to his girl, or being a criminal. In actual fights, Mark uses his speed to stay ahead of the attacker and grapple them in an armbar, triangle lock, or his signature wind-knocker.

When he's not being a rough-and-tumble badass, Mark likes to spend his time reading. He has many interesting adventure books to catch up on. He'll read in just about every place and position he can.

If you were to catch him on the street, he'd greet you with a nod and a small wave, despite your looks or status. Except for children. Mark has always had a soft spot for the youngest generation, usually making them laugh, or at least stop crying, before going on his way. He's often advised the youngsters to help them out in sticky situations.

Background: Mark grew up as the oldest of 4. With a brother 3 years younger and twin sisters 6 years younger, Mark was always told he'd have to help out. His mom was in a bad condition after the twins' births and constantly getting worse. After fighting for a year, her body gave out. At only 7 years old, Mark had to start growing up. His father was constantly working, meaning they were raised more by their grandparents.

His mom's moms were very loving and tended to spoil the 4 of them. His father's parents were a bit more strict but no less loving. On their dad's day off, he would play with them and take care of them as much as he could.

When Mark was 13, he got in an argument with a friend about words and ended up accidentally activating his epithet. Instantly, he went from shouting in his friend's face to screaming at the back of his head. Needless to say, the argument ended as the boys started talking about the new epithet. They worked together to figure out what the word was and how it could be used.

Over the next 8 years, Mark trained as hard as he could to expand his abilities and become better with his epithet. With the help of his best friend, Mark was able to get a rather impressive skillset that he used daily for making life easier and for helping others.

Motivation: Mark's motivation is his family, friends, and the protection of the innocent. He often spends his days off and time after work walking the streets in search of a crime to prevent or stop.

Assets: Mark may not be the strongest guy in the fight but, even without his epithet, he's rather fast. While not insanely fast, like his favorite comic book heroes, he did train himself to be able to beat the fastest member of the school's track team in a normal foot race. He also has incredible balance and agility, practiced mainly for his skateboard and roller blades, which he has partially transferred into parkour.

Flaws: Mark can be very lazy when he doesn't want to do something. He knows he's a procrastinator and tries to counter it with alarms to get him mobile again but that doesn't always work. His least favorite thing about himself is his ADHD, which he tries his best to act against. On top of all that, he doesn't eat healthy, as he's trying to gain weight. People have told him they want his metabolism. He always tells them they don't really want his, they want one just a bit slower so they're in a healthy weight range, not underweight.

Epithet: Stride
 Quick Stride: Able to step to random places around the battlefield.
 Long Stride: Able to "teleport" to anywhere he can see (max 1 mile) with a single step. This ability must be charged. The longer it's charged, the further he can stride.
 Heavy Stride: Can create a 1-foot diameter crater where he stomps.
 Take in Stride: When concentrating, he only takes half as much damage as normal when hit.
 Air Stride: While in the air, he can slow his speed to half.

[User]
Mark watched as the girls rescued the child, keeping his senses open. He found it very annoying every time someone brought up his uncanny appearance of Jensen Ackles. He didn't like Jessica already and she wasn't going to make it easier to like her. "Let's just get the girl to safety." he sighed, glaring at Jessica.

He noticed the little people Penny summoned with her Epithet and how she worked them. He found it interesting. That's actually kinda cool, he thought to himself.

"Stride." he frowned at Penny. "My Epithet is Stride. It's a movement Epithet, not usually meant for outright combat. Giant bugs, though, shouldn't be too hard if you can find me a big stick to use as a weapon."

He was being modest, though it didn't sound like it, and he knew it. He loved his speed. He already knew how to fight with it.

With the girls behind him, he took point and began heading back towards the beach. "Leaving your find?" he asked Penny, motioning towards the bubblegum machine.

[Assistant]
In a lucky turn of fate, one of the youngsters who happened upon the trapped child possessed just the tool for the job. Her quick thinking allowed her to combine a couple different objects in quick succession, putting the power of her epithet on display as she dealt with the problem in an improbably speedy manner. While that meant the child might tumble down the trunk and into the ground afterward, Penny recognized the situation and put her miniature legion on the case. They scrambled up and down with surprising alacrity, retrieving their target as carefully as they could. In the end, the little girl was retrieved with no fuss and only a little muss.

Though clearly shaken and close to overwhelmed, the child seemed grateful. "Thank you," she told her rescuers, remembering what her mother always said about manners. Given her saviors' recent experience with Noelle -Jessica in particular- it wasn't hard to come to a conclusion about her lineage. The teacher and her husband would no doubt be relieved, even if the return of their daughter highlighted the still-missing status of their son.

Not long after Mark divulged the nature of his epithet, there came a rustling in the underbrush. A thin girl with shot red hair, a distinctive skull-and-crossbones shirt beneath her coat, and striped red and black long socks appeared through the trees, waving as she came into talking range. "Hello," she greeted in a somewhat throaty voice before pointing her thumb at the trees behind. "Just wandering around when I found the girl. While trying to figure out a way to get her down, I heard talking. I didn't know what to make of you, so I kept a distance and watched. But way you rescued the young one there was incredible. You're obviously good people, and I shouldn't have doubted you."

In contrast to her somewhat punkish, rough-and-tumble appearance, the stranger gave off an impression of sophistication and sincerity as she spoke. Her compliments felt good, and conveyed a sense of real respect. In turn that made the stranger seem genuine and trustworthy, someone definitely in the others' camp. These associations and conclusions came easily, not weirdly so, but it just seemed so obvious. The only thing even slightly off was the ever-so-subtle sweet taste on the tongues of those present.

She held a hand in front of her chest and gave a slight bow. "It's a pleasure to meet anyone with their hearts in the right place. My name is Erin. I'm sure you have appropriately important things to be doing, but if I could lean on your generosity, would you mind telling me what's going on? Who you've encountered so far, and what you've been up to?" She asked in earnest, buttering them up a touch but by no means overbearingly so, as she stood between them and the way back to the beach.

[User]
Jessica grinned her big shark grin, feeling accomplishment well up inside of her. She definitely didn't feel good because she helped a scared kid and it was the right thing to do. No, she felt good because she was AWESOME and now she could make that woman bow and apologize! She would order that lady to get down on her hands and knees and assume the dogeza stance just like in her anime!

"GAHAHA!" Jessica laughed loudly out of nowhere, to nobody but herself like an ABSOLUTE CHAD.

As if her massive accomplishment wasn't enough, the TV star Jensen Ackles of award-winning drama blah blah blah you get the point DIVULGED the nature of his epithet. He must've been pretty confident and, from the sounds of it, he had every reason to be. However, like that one cartoon said, "knowing is half the battle". Now that she knew what his epithet was, she could SCHEME ways to counter it just in case.

As Jessica turned to head back to the beach, her head HUGE from accomplishment, she quickly came face to face with a girl who looked like a PUNK. Dammit... PUNK was JESSICA'S aesthetic! At least when she wasn't a delinquent. It switched between the two depending. Jessica was about to tell the woman off for TOTALLY APING HER STYLE when she found herself being ABSOLUTELY FLATTERED.

"W-well," Jessica replied, blushing a bit, "I'm actually EVIL, you know? Definitely not a good person. But thank you for noticing how AWESOME I am. Actually, we were just... did I recently eat a candy?"

Jessica smacked her lips, paused a second, and then opened the bottle in order to sniff it.

She had combined a bottle and something that could be bottled, but had only assumed it was sap. Maybe it was syrup or something? She gave the contents a sniff.

"We were just, uh... going back to camp... with this kid... to make that teacher apologize," Jessica answered, a little distracted.

"You know... that busybody meganekko. I like your shirt, by the way. Do you think this TRACKSUIT looks cool on me?"

[Assistant]
"Excellent work, pipsqueaks." Penny said as the peasants carried the girl down from the tree, leaving it vague whether she included Jessica in the compliment lest her head explode from how big it got since her sappy solution had worked. When they got close enough Penny put her sword under one arm and reached up, taking the girl around the armpits and lifting her the rest of the way down down as the peasants let themselves fall like hairy coconuts to the forest floor around them. She gave the kid a quick once over, seeing if she was hurt in any way besides the evident exhaustion of the ordeal. Up close their rescuee bared an unmistakable resemblance to the teacher from the beach, which meant that now all they had to do now was track her down. In the middle of the jungle. Great.

Everybody was turning to head back to the beach when Mark asked whether they would be carrying the bubble machine with them. "Of course." She said, snapping her finger. The peasants lifted up the bubble machine as it looked like Penny was going to be stuck carrying the kid. With an uncomfortable glance down and a terrible attempt at a reassuring smile she set out after the other two. Luckily for her they hadn't even started back yet when a girl emerged from the woods.

Jessica fielded her questions, thankfully. She made a questionably believable attempt to establish her evil cred, but trying to say that with a stammer and a blush was just eyerolling. To be fair, though, it felt like a compliment from her could make anybody blush. Penny wasn't good with compliments anyway, especially when they were this genuine. "Yeah, we're gonna prove her wrong by reuniting her with her loving daughter." She added, just in case either Erin or the kid got any weird ideas from how Jessica had described things. As she did she smacked her lips at the mention of the sweet taste that must have been hanging in the air.

@Rockin Strings

[User]
Mark smiled softly as the words of the newcomer. He didn't notice it at first but could definitely sense a sweet after-taste through his mouth once Jessica had said something. The girl was blushing while trying to proclaim she was a bad guy? He quickly used his Stride to get behind Erin.

"I suggest you turn your epithet off, Erin. It doesn't seem fit for combat. We can get you back to the beach if you stick with us."

He didn't truly know if Erin was using an epithet or not but the clues were there. With that, he began motioning the girls towards the beach, watching Jessica and Erin closely. He thought he could trust Penny, at least for now, and wasn't worried about her since he understood at least the basics of her epithet.


[System]
Apparent Age: 24
Actual Age:127
Gender: Male
Race/Faction: Vampire/Blackbloods
Height: 6'3"
Weight: 182 lbs

Bio:
Norman Perry was born to an rich family in the late 19th century England. He grew up the son of a banker, with all the perks and privileges. Norman was an eccentric kid with his cold looks and lack of empathy. He learned easily and showed an aptitude for fencing, both of which his father forced him to take up. Norman took the learning as something that had to be done, either in school of in life. Whereas he took the fencing as an art form. He loved whipping his foil around, outsmarting his opponents, seeing the weak points in their defense and besting them. The banker's son went on to become one of the most esteemed dualists in London.

One night the Perry family had people over for dinner, something which wasn't that unusual. What was unusual however was one woman. She was the widow of a lord, supposedly 38 years old. The woman didn't look a day over 25 and captivated all men in the room. Norman was intrigued by her, he had never met a woman like her before. After dinner all of the guests had a drink and the widow singled Norman out. The two of them talked and talked and Norman became more and more intrigued by her. She knew things and every move of her was as gracious as a feather swaying in the wind. She wanted to show him something.

The pair headed back to the main room. The widow told Norman to close the door and he did. As soon as the door closed Norman heard a sharp crack, then a scream. He quickly turned around and saw one of the guest lying on the ground, his head turned around 180 degrees. The widow was at the other side of the room standing over the dead man. She had crossed the entire room in the blink of an eye. In a flash the widow stood next to the screaming woman, her face buried in the screaming woman's next. The room fell silent, everyone was scared to death. The only difference between Norman and the rest of the crowd was that he still was intrigued. That night he was turned.

Norman was taken in by a vampire coven in London, where he was trained and educated in the ways of the night. His skills as a fencer made him one hell of dualist within the coven and he was quickly put to work. His specialty, solving internal problems as well as the occasional werewolf incident.

Personality: Norman always stood out because of his lack of empathy. Through the years however he learned to have a good grasp on human nature. His natural curiosity and aptitude for picking up new things made that easier. Norman enjoys outsmarting his opponents and favors combat over diplomacy. He is the person you sent to fix the problem permanently.

Powers:
Bone Manipulation – The ability to change the skeletal structure of the body. Norman can change his hands into claws or spring blades of bone from his forearms. The wounds inflicted by the bone manipulation need to heal after combat, causing an increased desire to feed.
Lightning Reflexes – Norman reacts on outside impulses faster than other vampires. His body processes information that might give him an edge in combat faster than other vampires.
Other: Norman is still looking for the widow.

[User]
Eddie shook his head as he grumbled a bit. "I hate having turning in those reports late." As the keys were tossed in his direction, Eddie caught them and placed them in his jacket pocket and swapped them for a cigarette and his lighter. "Suppose I'm gonna have to. And you'd think they won't, but seems every time we get their, something got scratched up."

The officer put the cigarette in his mouth and lit it up. Taking a drag off of his cigarette, he blew a bit of smoke off to the side.

Eddie glanced towards Sleepy and smiled. "Swore ya weren't gonna ask. Got a weirdo who may provide a lead, y'know that bastard in the costume? Yeah well he was stumblin' around that gift-shop called Moon Lotus or somethin' like that. Same vicinity where victim four was down. Bastard was drugged outta his mind. But more importantly that suit was glued on tighter than Tom Brady's cheating grip on those deflated balls. Gonna interrogate the suspect after he had some time to recuperate."

He took another drag of his cigarette before flicking some of the ash off. "Though before he went down, mentioned something about pay. Thinking about doing a stake-out in the area."

"Course we're gonna need our squad-car before that." Eddie remarked as he dropped tossed the remains of his cigarette into a nearby trash-bin.

[Assistant]
Aleksandri was on her way to the zone carrying a new shipment of blood for the bar in a large suitcase filled with ice packs to keep them cool. "I know I'm strong but I'm not a trolley or delivery person" she thought to herself before she heaved the suitcase up a set of steps from the subway, though didn't show any signs of strain as the case was hoisted above her head.

All of a sudden a man walked up behind her "Hey what's a young lass like you doing here?" He said as he smoothly slid in front of Aleksandri in an attempt to slow her down, "Damnit!" Aleksandri cursed under her breath before sighing looking up at the man. "Отвали (piss off)" she said in Russian while trying to play the busy foreiner card but the man didn't take the hint and pressed on, "oh an exotic beauty huh well let me show you aro-" Aleksandri cut him off as she began walking away shaking her head "Отвали, Я занят" she called before turning a corner and sinking into a shadowed doorway.

Aleksandri finally made her way to a block away from the Zone before she heard the explosion and rushed down the street and made it just in time to see the dust cloud settle, "Что, черт возьми, здесь произошло!? (What the hell happened here!?)" She yelled before dropping the suitcase filled with blood and ice and ran full speed into the building.

When she got there she spotted Norman clawing through rubble frantically looking for something, "Who else was here?" She asked before lifting a blood bag and drinking it all feeling strength course through her body, after this she grabbed a large price of rubble and lifting it up to lean it against a wall already looking.

[User]
Adalaide glanced at Norman and Anya before she put her drink down.
"We need to leave, right now." She said, but she heard the beep and she knew it was too late. She threw herself at Anya and over the counter, sliding underneath. She tucked herself into a ball as it started raining down concreet. A large block fell on her, cracking as she was more durable than it. After the debris stopped falling and it sounded like there were others getting up, Adalaide braced her back and pushed up out of the concrete.
"God damnit." Adalaide muttered as she stood up, brushing off dust from her person.
"This is never going to wash." Adalaide sighed as she saw Norman feeding from the sanguinist. She made her way over there, albeit a little awkwardly as she was pretty banged up.

"I apologize for this love." She said to him first before she grabbed his wrist and bit. As the blood hit her tongue she could already feel herself starting to heal. Bones fusing together, tendons going back into place. Once she had her fill she released the Sanguinist.
"Thank you for that, it was well needed." She then followed in Norman's lead, looking for others who were trapped by the wreckage. She also took out her phone and dialed Bastian's number. She needed to know if this was their work or not.

[Assistant]
Anya looked nervously between the two. Yea...they think I'm dumb now...She thought to herself. "I..uh..sorry?" She said, rubbing the back of her neck nervously. "I..really don't remembe-" And then everything went to hell at once. She heard a faint *beep* and in an instant everything started exploding and she was grabbed by Adalaide and summarily hauled over the counter and shielded from the rubble.

Anya was mildly injured by the blast, nothing major, just a few burns and scrapes thanks to Adalaide shielding her from the blast and rubble. Anya was about to ask if she was okay, but considering she stood and shrugged the rubble off she was going to assume the answer was yes, at-least for now.

Still a bit shaky from the frightening experience of almost getting blown up, Anya stood. "I-is everyone alright?" She called out to Norman and Adalaide. It would seem most of the bars patrons had gotten out in time, which was good. The bouncer however, was not so lucky. Anya sighed, Robert was a good friend, she called him Bob.

Anya clambered over the rubble and what remained of the bar and walked over to the four, her very minor wounds already healed. "Thank you, Adalaide" Anya told her, hugging her. It was quite possible if Adalaide hadn't helped Anya she would've been easily crushed and killed by the large chunk of cement that was laying over where she was sitting.

"Is everyone alright?" She asked, gesturing between Aleksandri, Sindle, Norman, and Adalaide.
----
Meanwhile, Ronin was watching the heart-warming scene un-fold below him. It was obvious that Anya was a bit shaken up from the whole ordeal, and she and Norman happened to be Ronin's main targets, everyone else that had shown up was just an added bonus. And as luck would have it, Norman seemed injured. At-least for now. Damned Sanguinist, I should've gotten rid of the last of you. Yet, here you are, still alive. No matter, you won't be for long. Ronin thought to himself, a grimace on his face.

Ronin leapt from his perch, landing on a car to break his fall. "Hope they had insurance..." he muttered under his breath before walking over to his little playfield. Take care of the injured and the little girl first, then the Sanguinist. The rest are optional. he thought to himself. Clearing his throat loudly he spoke, "Why, what do we have here? Feeding time at the local zoo, is it?" Ronin spoke, a psychotic grin on his face, chuckling lowly.

Anya instinctively backed away from Ronin, drawing her blades. She'd heard of him, myths and stories really, she didn't think he actually exsisted. Her eyes widened in fear, "So..you were the one that blew up the bar." She spoke, nervously. "And? What if I am, hm?" Ronin asked, grinning before the little group of bloodsuckers that lie before him.

[User]
Ol' Smithy sighed as he kept walking through the alley. He mentally checked his daily task list before continuing. He had done the requests on his workshop, bought some grub for the halfbreed kids, and some blood for himself which he promptly drank. He had done his daily meditation and training, as well as fixing some radio that had been giving trouble on a strip club. The old vampire was still bored, as the hours crawled slowly through his mind. He had briefly considered pulling a prank on Bastian, like slipping a whoopee cushion on the proud werewolf's chair. Or on one of the vampire elders. Although a better idea formed in his mind. He hated a lot of the guts of his kin, but he could still appreciate the flavour of a good blood-laced drink.

He looked his reflection in a puddle. He was a bloody hobo. It could get tricky to get in The Zone to pick up some drinks and conversation... It looked like the night was going to be boring.

And then he wished he hadn't thought that, as a loud explosion brought him to his senses. "Er, i didn't mean this kind of fun tonight. Damnit." He cursed under his breath, watching the events unfold. The Zone was part of the Blackbloods turf, so whomever did this was aiming big or was just an idiot. Several of the survivors crawled out, and then some ninja-slash-car busting-slash-vigilante knockoff guy arrived at the scene, taunting the vampires. He normally didn't deal in Blackblood turf nor he took sides, but hey, those three girls looked like they needed some more help. The guy was packing quite some worrisome bladed weapon.

He decided to step out of the alley. "Good evening." He said to everyone involved. "I heard you've got a bad case of a dancefloor exploding and killing people, followed by raining mysterious people who like to taunt ladies while they're down. Do you need my assistance, Blackbloods? I recycle trash."

[Assistant]
Norman saw Aleksandri join him, her mouth was moving. Norman couldn't exactly make out what she was saying, his ears still ringing, but he assumed it was about the others inside. "Maybe one or two more vampires," he answered, the young vampire was completely oblivious to half of his own family and didn't know any names. Nothing was moving in the rubble. He stopped digging for a bit and took a look at the rubble. "Nevermind this, they're goners..." Norman spoke, "We're fine, Anya." He told the little girl, Norman wasn't sure if she needed to be comforted more. Before he could give this more thought a loud crash drew his attention. Some guy had jumped down from a building and landed on a car. Norman's face got the puzzled look again and his mouth fell half open. 'Feeding time at the local zoo', Norman thought and tilted his head a tad to the side. Norman quickly put two and two together and Anya wanted to know the same thing. The man apperently blew up the bar and by his stupid grin Norman could tell it wasn't the first time. There he was, taunting and baited, on a silver platter, ripe for the slaughter.

"My friend..." Norman told the guy and pointing at the bar, "You've got is-sues!" But good thing he was finally here. Norman was still pissed for not being involved in this whole scheme. It was always the same thing with that kind of type, everything went well until it went wrong. And Norman knew that carjumper bit off a bit more than he could chew. Another voice arose from out of an alley, Norman once again: puzzled look and mouth half open. Norman chuckled when the guy spoke about dancefloors exploding, if only he knew. This guy wanted to recycle thrash, he looked confident enough. From his get-up Norman gathered that the man spend a lot of time around thrash. "Yeah, hold him down, then I'll suck him dry and cut off his head." Norman told the newcommer as he took a couple of steps forward. Let's see what carjumper is made off. Norman was going to enjoy this.


[System]
Runan Isles Savior Corps

---

Established in the wake of Westwel's destruction, the Runan Isles Savior Corps is by no means the most impressive program on Illun, but it's well-funded and well-run by a few survivors of Westwel's own Corps.

Character Info

Name – Besca Darroh
Age – 35
Affiliation – R.I.S.C.

Originally from Westwel, Besca Darroh has been around Saviors her entire life. Her grandfather had helped fell the Modir who would become "Dragon," and her father had headed Westwel's burgeoning Savior program. She met dozens of pilots, watched as their connection to the Modir ate away at their minds and bodies. Other nations treated their pilots like a resource to be burned through, kept at arm's length in all but public affairs. Besca, however, went out of her way to engage with Westwel's pilots and even piloting candidates, caring after them with a degree of humanity which was, frankly, missing in the programs of other nations. Her methods were derided as frivolous and naïve by her peers, but the pilots appreciated it, which, to her, was all that mattered.

She lost many things in Westwel's fall; her home, her father, her friends, and no small piece of her faith in humanity, but ironically enough she didn't lose her job. When Runa took in her country's refugees, and subsequently acquired their first Savior, they came to the last living member of Westwel's program for help in founding their own.

Nowadays, Besca doesn't often involve herself in the politics of the program. Technically speaking she isn't even chief of operations—a position occupied by the Runan government—but rather, her duties revolve around "pilot maintenance." While she hasn't lost her desire to make life easier for the pilots, she isn't nearly as incorrigibly optimistic or sunny as she once was.

Character Info

Name – Dahlia St. Senn
Age – 18
Affiliation – R.I.S.C.

Dahlia was a toddler when her home was destroyed by the Modir, spirited away from Westwel in the arms of a family friend. She spent the first fourteen years of her life in the quiet, lakeside town of Hovvi. She was, like many children, absolutely enthralled by the Saviors, so when she tested positive and was whisked away into orbit, Dahlia thought her dream had come true. She missed her friends, and her adoptive father, but this was her opportunity to do something important. This was her chance to help.

She had no idea.

Runa's Savior, Dragon, had not been phased by a single pilot until Dahlia entered the cockpit. With its potential finally unleashed, she was able to end invasions within minutes—which was crucial, because she couldn't remain connected for much longer than that before the giant's neural regeneration reached critical levels.

Dahlia has become Runa's WMD, and as such, she actually doesn't pilot as much as she did before R.I.S.C. acquired its two other Saviors. Besca has become rather protective of her, not wanting to risk putting her in situations where she may be forced to over-exert herself, or risk being overtaken.

Character Info

Name – Hadrian Ghaust
Age – 38
Affiliation – R.I.S.C.

Hadrian Ghaust is Helburke personified. He is strong, unrelenting, stoic to a chilling degree, and utterly devastating in the cockpit. Ghaust is also a veteran pilot, having commanded the Savior Marrowman in service of the Helburken crown for 20 years, and despite a phasing speed so slow that he rarely deigns to use his magic at all, he was well on his way to becoming one of his country's most accomplished pilots.

However, Ghaust's priority has always been the fight against the Modir, and Helburke's clamor for political power is something he viewed with silent disdain. To him, using Saviors to settle diplomatic disputes isn't just wasteful, it's shameful. So, when Helburke ordered him to bring Marrowman to bear against the newly-risen Runa's Dragon, he refused. When, then, he was given the ultimatum of going through with the duel or forfeiting his rank and position, he looked his general in the eye, ripped the pilot's medal from his collar, and left his home behind.

Overnight Ghaust was made a Pariah in Helburke, and his home turned against him. He was forced to leave, and though several foreign programs sought him out, Ghaust denied them all, even passing up a pilot's seat in Eusero. Instead, he went straight to the burgeoning program in Runa, who was more than happy to take him.

Character Info

Name – Safie Calhan
Age – 22
Affiliation – R.I.S.C.

R.I.S.C.'s newest pilot, Safie has spent the past year earning her place at Dahlia and Ghaust's sides. Born and raised in Runa's largest city, Queenshand, Safie was one of countless starry-eyed youths who dreamed of the day she'd get to step inside the cockpit of a Savior. A positive connection-test put her on the path, but it was the months upon months of personal training, rigorous study, and nights spent running sims until dawn that pulled her ahead of the other aspirants. With a phase potential speed just above average, she was a perfect fit between Runa's other two pilots.

While Dahlia has accrued something of a heroic mythos about her, she's often reclusive and hesitant to make many public appearances. Safie on the other hand loves to meet the people she's helping, be that with personal visits, answering fan-mail, or simply getting her hands dirty cleaning up after the messier invasions. Some see her approach as distinctly Euseran, but Safie didn't become a pilot for the attention, she became a pilot because it was the right thing to do.

Character Info

Name – Lucis Abroix
Age – 25
Affiliation – Casoban, on loan to the R.I.S.C.

Casoban's sole effort to save Westwel, while ultimately futile, planted the seeds of goodwill between it and Runa. Casoban has always lived in the influential shadows of Helburke and Eusero, but allied with Runa, the two manage a strong presence on the world stage.

As a show of solidarity, Casoban has even begun sending a Savior of its own as backup to Runa's invasions. Enter: Lucis Abroix.

Lucis is perhaps one of Casoban's most beloved pilots, despite having only a handful of deployments to his name. Handsome, personable, with a poetic flare and the voice of an angel, many people back home already consider him the face of Casoban's Savior program—a role he is more than happy to play. Lucis makes regular public appearances, seemingly never missing an opportunity to espouse his love for the beauty of the world, and his burning desire to protect it from the Modir.

[User]
The elevator opened one floor early, the doors parted for Aldous Follen.

Besca sighed.

"Good morning, Commander," he greeted, stepping in beside her. It was only the two of them, and this lift was quite a ways from medical. He'd come all the way across to find her here, and she half expected him to hit the emergency stop once the doors closed again. Instead he said nothing, only smiled blankly ahead. Somehow she still felt as though they'd been speaking for hours.

"What?"

"Hm?"

"What do you want, Follen?"

He feigned offense, poorly—couldn't even hide the grin. "I can't check up on my friend?"

"Checking up on your friend."

"My friend," he insisted. "Who is very clearly struggling to bear the weight of her honorary diplomatic duties."

Besca sighed again, as involuntarily as the first. "You heard."

"Saw, more like. Every news channel in Illun is abuzz about it. Casobani dignitaries flying into Eusero; I think even high school newspapers can tell what's going on there. The imminent erosion of Runa's union with Casoban, laid at the feet of RISC's amateur commander, and her uncontrollable pilot."

"They did not call her 'uncontrollable'."

"They will. Even our own people. Once Casoban falls in with Eusero, they're going to blame Quinnlash's actions at the duel—and you for allowing them."

The elevator dinged and opened again. Besca walked briskly like she didn't want to be followed, and Follen followed. "So what, then? Come to offer some grand solution?"

"I already did that, if I recall, you and yours just haven't been able to deliver. No, I'm here because your theatrics with the Tormont girl are beginning to interfere with my department."

"What, you didn't consider getting manhandled as interference?" she scoffed.

"I considered it a part of those theatrics, but now things are moving backstage," he said. "The Board may not want to squeeze you right now, but they've certainly made their displeasure known to me. Our supplies are low, some of our men are sick and being prescribed band-aids. This morning I received an email giving me reason to believe medical's payroll could be held until this situation is handled."

"They can't—"

"They could, and any public backlash they might face would be forgotten the moment you crack and they get to parade an enemy pilot to her execution. My guess is they'll give her to Casoban, force us to work together against the inevitable retaliations from Helburke. Doubt it'll work, but it's better than nothing."

"Thank you for your suggestions."

"I'm not making suggestions, he said, stopping. She paused begrudgingly. "I'm telling you to do your job."

Besca couldn't help the bristle that made her fists clench; she had to fight the urge not to grab him by the collar and show him what real interference looked like. But she took a deep breath instead, lips curling into a sneer. "That sounded awful close to frustration, Aldous. If you're not careful you might accidentally feel something."

Of course then he grinned again, which was enough to remind her how impossible that really was. "Good luck, Commander," he said, then turned on his heel and walked away.

Part of her missed being colleagues—it didn't look so bad when she yelled at him then. These days she did all her screaming on the inside.

---

---

She found Deelie in the sims. The monitors were off, but the readings came through normal at a glance. There was only one supervisor on shift, and, without anything to watch or any need for direction on the comms, there wasn't much for them to do. So, when Besca came through the doors, they hastily took their feet of the desk, and wiped the drool from their mouth.

"Commander!" they started, but Besca waved them at ease.

"How long's she been in there?"

"Uh, well," they checked the terminal, blinking the sleep from their eyes. "She was in before my shift."

Besca balked. "Since last night?"

"Since…uh…yesterday afternoon."

She'd sent Deelie a text reminding her to get something to eat before she came back to the dorms. Now she knew why she'd never gotten a reply. "Cut the sim."

"But," the supervisor started, but a sharp glance told them Besca's generosity was waning. "Yes ma'am."

She made her way out to the row of pods as one opened, and Deelie sat up. The girl seemed a bit bewildered, but mainly she just looked exhausted. When she saw Besca, a little life returned to her and she waved happily.

"Heya," she said blearily. "Where's Quinn?"

"Asleep, because it's six."

"In the…?"

"Morning, Deelie." She helped the girl out, and held her steady while she shook the feeling back into her legs. "Seriously, you had two slices of toast yesterday, and this is the third day this week you haven't slept."

"Mmh. Gotta."

"No, you gotta go back to the dorms, lie down, and sleep. I'll make it an order if I have to."

Deelie looked at her, the haze clearing in her eyes just long enough for Besca to see how anxious they were. "Have to be ready," she said.

"You have to be functional. The sims will still be here in twelve hours—which is when you're allowed back in. Go."

"'Kay. Sorry."

"Not mad at you, hun," she said, running a hand through Deelie's fraying hair. "Just…worried."

Deelie nodded mechanically. The hours were starting to catch up to her. "Me too, she said, and walked away.

---

---

In her waking moments, as the warmth of her dream sloughed away, Quinn would feel a sharp chill pass over her. It slunk in through her cracked-open door, and moved across her bed as though she had no sheets at all. It touched her to the bone, not cruelly, but intently, as if to say: 'Alright, time to get up.'

Distantly, she might have heard something she could easily have mistaken for hoofbeats. A shadow passed by her room, large and antlered, and then it was gone—or perhaps it hadn't been there at all.

Her door opened wide, and standing there was not some ghostly beast, but the silhouetted form of her sister. Dahlia wobbled at the threshold, but eventually found her bearings and made her way in, step by shaky step until she nearly tripped into Quinn's bed. This wasn't the first time Dahlia had come to sleep here, and in fact, since they'd found out about Dammerung, it seemed she spent more nights here than in her own room. It was like she'd grown afraid to leave Quinn alone; then again, she had also been holing herself up in sims most days.

"G'night…" she mumbled, absently patting Quinn on the head. Moments later she was fast asleep.

Dahlia's day had ended, but Quinn's week had just begun.


[System] Ashley Gallagher

[User]
Calvin Lovegrove
En Route

Cal said nothing at first; he slowly stuck the key into the ignition and fired up the engine. He ran his fingers through his sweaty pompadour--dislodging a few hairs from their neat combover--and began the unholy drive to Danielle's. Goosebumps ran up his arms; her home was a place of sanctuary for him, and now he was forced to be the one to defile it. For the first few minutes, he said nothing, his eyes lingering on the scenery as if he was looking upon New York for the final time. He knew he was not, but Cal was well aware that no matter which way this case splintered, it would eviscerate him.

At the very least, it would no longer be convenient for Danielle to see him. She was a resourceful and cunning woman, but her arrangement with Calvin was predicted on the ideal that he kept the police away from her. Now here he was, bringing the most resourceful cop the precinct had seen in decades straight to her doorstep.

Finally, Cal decided to speak. "You must not be a man of cinema, Ash." He tried to lace his words with humor, but the delivery came out flat and wobbly. He couldn't even hide how distressed he had become. "...Well, most people learned of her when she was little, back on this weird fucking family values show that they aired in the 30s. Can't remember the name...Righteous Road? Terrible. But something about her drew Hitchcock's attention and she starred in The Grand Staircase as a teenager. Ever since then, she's been a household name. And she's grown up to be irresistible."

Cal bit his lip and tried to more clearly focus on the road, looking away from Ashley. "I don't have any dirt on her. From what I understand, she's a mysterious character, but as far as the NYPD can tell, she's clean as a whistle," he lied. "I have no idea why she would have been at that shitty club. Let alone for two consecutive nights. Sometimes, directors and agents go to public places to have meetings with their clients. Perhaps she was there on business." Again, Cal shifted in his chair. The more he lied, the more he continued to weave a gigantic delicate web that could be incinerated in an instant if Dani couldn't scrounge together an alibi.

After an uncomfortable half hour of driving, Cal parked on the street below a massive apartment structure that looked akin to a castle. He took a deep breath and then looked over at Ash to see if he had anything left to say. Sweat had started to deconstruct his hairdo.

"This is her place, according to the yellow pages," muttered Calvin. Come on, Dani. Do not fuck this up.

[Assistant]
Ashley Gallagher
The Home of a Star

Ashley listened wordlessly. Cal seemed on edge, teetering more than Gallagher was used to the cool and collected cop doing. He said nothing about it, best way to blow your power through knowledge was to let others on that you had it in the first place.

"I don't have any dirt on her. From what I understand, she's a mysterious character, but as far as the NYPD can tell, she's clean as a whistle,"

"She'd be the first then, not many in the spotlight stay clean in the shadows. Not when its so easy to get away with whatever you want." Again his mind shifted to Emerald. He shook his head abruptly, he had to be on alert in this questioning and thinking about her would only stray him from the path to the truth. She was a problem for another day.

As Cal parked, Ashley worked to hide his astonishment at the grandeur of the apartment complex. It was larger than life and beautiful to boot. Ashley had long since gotten over his resentment for the rich, he had no envy for their lives. When you had so much, it meant that much more you could lose. "Are you kidding?" He quipped, "I didn't know a starlet lived in my apartment complex. I'm surprised I haven't seen her around the erm... spa." He chuckled. "Lead the way, Lovey. You seem to know more about her than I do. Try using that sweet talk of yours and loosen her lips a little, would ya'?"

[User]
Calvin Lovegrove
The Apartment of Danielle Raymonde

Cal beckoned for Ashley to follow as he hasted through the courtyard, his eyes laser-focused on the path ahead of him. In the past year Cal had made this exact walk dozens of times, but now he could only hope that a smidgeon of Dani's incredible talent had rubbed off on him… He had to look like he'd never seen this place before. The detectives found themselves in a beautiful, lavish lobby filled with sculptures and mirrors. A very faint pink hue resided in the décor and lighting of the room. It always gave Cal a degree of comfort; this lobby was the decontamination room between the grime and decay of his world and the high-life that towered above. He stared at Ashley for a moment. Cal was kidding himself; he knew very well that by bringing Ashley Gallagher here, he was smuggling a grenade into this world.

A hallway of elevators awaited the detectives in the back. Calvin took a determined step forward. He knew which to take. Second from the right. It wasn't long, however, before the detective froze and re-assessed. He had briefly stepped out-of-character. Right, then. He sauntered over to the front desk and leaned against the edge. "NYPD. We're looking for Danielle Raymonde."

"Hey! I know you, you're---" The burly, bald, bowtie-fastened man at the desk aborted his sentence. The look in Cal's eyes seared through this man's well-meant intentions and immediately subdued him. "Oh….uh…Sorry. Thought you were someone else. Please excuse me." A painfully insincere chuckle parted from the man's lips and he pointed toward the hallway. "You'll want to take the second from the right. Apartment 752."

"Thank you," said Cal with a completely calm, monotonous tone of voice. The pair departed for Danielle's apartment.

The hallway was masked in a nearly uncomfortable number of stripes, which lined both the walls and the floors horizontally in a myriad of different colors. This place was regal, yet uneasy. Upon arriving to 752, Cal gently knocked on the door. "I'll take point, Ash. I've met many 'Danielles' in my life."

After a moment, the door slowly opened, and a face emerged from the opening. She was as beautiful as Lovegrove had made her out to be; her long, perfect strands of strawberry blonde hair curled around a face that was far too fair to be wrapped up in this hurricane of a case. "C-can I help you?"

"NYPD. Detectives Lovegrove and Gallagher. May we please come in?"

"What is this regarding?"

"It is regarding two murdered women in the Carousel Club."

A horrified grimace erupted across Danielle's face, erasing the angelic grace and replacing it with shock. "…murders? I…I was just there!" She now looked extremely distraught. "S-sure. Come in." She fully opened the door and beckoned the two detectives inside before shutting it behind them.

Calvin and Ashley helped themselves to a seat on Danielle's couch, while she departed to the kitchen. She returned with a bottle of scotch and a glass for each of the detectives. She poured a generous amount of spirits before sitting down and overtly redirecting her attention to Detective Gallagher. Cal cursed under his breath. He could tell that Danielle had already grown wary of his acting performance and had probably decided to ensure he had no opportunity to fail her under pressure.

"I am so sorry to hear of this…if there's anything I can do…please."

[Assistant]
Ashley Gallagher
The Home of a Star

Ashley wondered if Lovegrove was trying to imply something or if he really harbored the thought that Ashley was a shit detective. He knew Cal was lying to him about something, but to his frustration he simply couldn't deduce what. The other detective was barely keeping his cool composure that Ashley was used to. It had begun directly after the club. He eyed Cal with a sidelong glance, tucking his thumbs into the waistband of his pants casually as the man spoke to the desk clerk. Perhaps Lovegrove was sweet on a dancer there. Tragic. Ashley just hoped it wouldn't interfere with the investigation.

A small tendril curled out of his mind like black ink spreading through water, the thought of Smith slowly forcing its way into his consciousness. He pushed it out, slamming the metaphorical door in its face. He had to put that away for now, he needed to be in his best mind.

Ashley sifted through the case in his mind as Cal rapped on the door, and was in no way prepared for the gentle face that answered. She was an angel, fallen from heaven and trapped in the thick gunk that was New York. Her face was that of a renaissance painting, the ones just trying to capture the sublimation of such a beautiful human woman. He fancied he could even see her wings, draped over her lovely shoulders in a delicate fall of ivory feathers. She was beautiful. Ashley was speechless. He shook his head out as the angel invited them into her home, and attempted to regain his focus. Focus, Ashley, damn it!

He scrubbed a weary hand across his forehead as he took a seat, politely declining the scotch, temptress though it was. The woman was clearly distressed, but Ashley made a point to remind himself she was an actress, and a successful one at that.

In a sudden unwanted wave, her face took over his mind, but it wasn't her beauty that he saw. The woman he saw before him was suddenly a horror, her beautiful lips hanging open as blood dripped from them. In place of her lovely gems for eyes were two roses, shoved in unceremoniously, organic sludge framing them and escaping from the sockets. Her locks of strawberry blonde hair were matted with blood and bone shards, her delicate hands now claws as they curled and contorted helplessly in death.

It was the slip of reality he needed, and his mind was cleared. "Let's start with some basic questions uh…" He paused to look at his pad, momentarily forgetting her name. "… Miss Raymond. What was your business at the Carousel Club?"

[User]
Calvin Lovegrove
The Apartment of Danielle Raymonde

Danielle sank into a plush white armchair facing the two detectives and crossed her legs, her expression falling blank. "A meeting."

Calvin furrowed his brow. "We need more than that, miss."

The starlet bit her lip and offered only silence. She reached onto the table for a cigarette and plopped it into her mouth. Cal quickly reached into his jacket and retrieved his lighter, scorching the end of the rollup.

Danielle took a drag from her cigarette, attacking the detectives head-on with smoke, before she finally complied. "That is none of your business, detective. Show-business stops for nothing. Not even for you two." She offered a half-smile to Ashley. Her kind, angelic demeanor had evaporated before Ashley's eyes. "…but I'll be a good girl and give you my alibi, if that's what you are here for."

By now, irritation had started to corrode Calvin's expression. "We aren't here for an alibi. Unless you make us feel as if we should be asking for one. We want to know what you saw. Then we'll be out of your hair. Have you been to this club before?"

Danielle rolled her eyes and let loose another plume of smoke before suffocating her cigarette onto the ashtray. "The Carousel, pardon my language, is a shithole. The showgirls—as they tend to be—were vile and absurd. Yet, for some reason, I find myself there regularly. Writers and producers love to pitch to me underneath the neon lights and public indecency."

"Miss Raymonde, your name is written in the vicinity of both murders. Wouldn't it be irregular to attend two nights in a row?"

"No. The same meeting warranted another night of parlay. One—again—which is none of your business. However, both nights, we left well before midnight."

"Who was the man you were meeting with?"

"A writer. I do not remember his name. If you want to pester RKO Pictures to track him down, be my guest."

Cal sighed and interlocked his hands. Danielle's performance worried him. She'd shapeshifted into multiple different characters dramatically before their eyes. Still, her alibi—while only half-true—was perfectly constructed. By the time the detectives would be able to comb through RKO to get a statement from said 'writer', the case would fall cold. She'd presented herself as a dead-end.

Calvin looked at Ashley, his confidence and composure now rejuvenated. "What are you thinking, Ash?"

[Assistant]
Ashley Gallagher
The Home of a Star

Ashley stared down the starlet, watching as she melted from one personality to the next effortlessly. Successful indeed. He was almost thankful for the cold, haughty demeanor she now wore— as a sudden contempt rose in him. He had little patience for those who thought they were above others simply because of money or fame. One particular statement made his blood boil beneath his skin. It surprised him, this emotion he didn't often feel, defensiveness. He felt as though she was baiting him, though how could she know?

Regardless, he took the bait. "You speak of the showgirls as if your profession isn't one and the same, Miss." He uttered coldly. "I see no difference between what you do and taking your clothes off for people with power and money. Showgirls, at least, don't pretend it is glamorous." He raised his brows, "Feel free to correct me." He had the information he needed from her, or all that he figured she'd give him. He was sure she'd just continue to play with him like a cat and its mutilated mouse. He stood, abruptly, brushing the the wrinkles out of his trousers. "Your alibi was unnecessary, you don't seem to be the type to rip eyes out or shove flowers into fresh, warm corpses like some gruesome florist." He eyed her over. "You haven't the spine. I will ask you one more question."

He dropped his cigarette onto the floor and stamped it out with the tip of his shoe, molesting the expensive carpet with the ash and heat of the still smoking butt. She'd just pay someone to clean it up. He leveled her with a piercing gaze, but kept his tone casual and almost friendly. "Did you see anything out of the ordinary, or suspicious?"


[System]
Age: 16
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Appearance:
Full character artwork is pretty huge, so it just gets a link.
Homura is, at least appearance-wise, a fairly unassuming young lady high school student. She doesn't dress to stand out, most of the time, wears glasses, and has long black hair with very visible white streaks in it. Take your best shot, she's heard and deflected them all, by now. Homura is usually seen carrying a shinai bag. Its contents vary between practice weapons and her actual one, depending on the circumstances.

Possession mode appearance
When possessed by her sword, Most of Homura's hair turns white, and the streaks that were already white instead take on a luminous red hue.

Personality:
Homura, despite her name, is a cool and collected individual. She tends to remain calm in most situations and isn't the sort to back down from a threatening opponent. She is polite, kind, and dutiful, and takes her training seriously. Her somewhat detached approach to life can easily lead to her being "spacey", and it's not altogether inaccurate. She'd miss quite a lot if she didn't have a second set of eyes watching out for her.

Homura's life isn't all training in kendo to inherit the family's style and continue the family business as a youkai hunter. She enjoys anime and video games in her spare time, and plays some sort of otome game on her smartphone almost religiously. When particularly nervous or flustered, she has a habit of messing with her glasses, usually cleaning them.

Vermillion Harvest Moon (Mizuki)
Although "only" a sword, Mizuki deserves her own entry as well. She tends to view Homura with parental concern, and is often the one who has to warn her wielder of impending danger, especially of the supernatural sort. She's not above a considerable amount of sass when she does, either. She seeks to understand humans through combat, or so she claims. Of the two, she's often the more aggressive one, though beyond rattling in her sheath of her own accord, these aspects tend to only manifest when possessing Homura.

Abilities:
Homura herself is a more or less ordinary human, with the physical abilities one would expect. Also she has myopia, not that it's a useful ability.

Her family has been youkai hunters for generations, and she trains in the family martial and exorcism arts. She can write talismans, but she has little to no talent for imbuing them with actual power. She does have a knack for things relating to her own body. She can enhance her own balance and lighten her body, to remain sure-footed in any situation, and stand on surfaces that otherwise would not support her. She can also leap exceptionally long distances horizontally or vertically.

Homura's sword, Vermillion Harvest Moon is a tsukumogami. It has lived, and fought, for generations, and carries volumes of experience in combat. As a youkai weapon, it's also quite dangerous to youkai and spirits of various sorts. It is also perfectly capable of speech, even when not possessing someone.

Through contact, the sword can possess someone to act as its wielder (or, perhaps,to wield their body as an extension of the weapon). In the case of the youkai hunters of the Kiyohara family, ancient blood contracts render this possession into more of a collaboration, where the youkai hunter is usually still in control of their actions, and merely benefits from essentially becoming a half-youkai while under its effects, gaining increased physical capabilities.

Skills:
Homura is training in her family's form of exorcism arts, primarily using swords or unarmed strikes. She's as good as one would expect for someone raised in a dojo.

She can follow a recipe and cook well enough, and is also quite good at making tea. Decent calligraphy skills, from making talismans and charms. Reasonably adept gamer.
Equipment:
Vermillion Harvest Moon - The Kiyohara family's heirloom katana, and a tsukumogami in its own right. The spirit of the sword tends to go by the name "Mizuki."

Smartphone, glasses, stockings, etc. If it's the sort of mundane thing a teenage girl would have, she probably has it.

Brief Backstory:
Homura is an ordinary girl, her family just has an unusual job. They're youkai hunters, and have been for generations. In the modern day, the true calling is hardly as important as it used to be, but that certainly doesn't stop the passing down of the old traditions.

Homura began training from a young age at the family dojo, learning the ways of a youkai hunter. She didn't necessarily understand why she had to go through such harsh training, but she was in no position to question it, either. She'd never even heard of a youkai terrorizing anyone outside of fairy tales. Or maybe some of those bedtime stories were family history? Regardless, while there might still be a need for youkai hunters, both the hunter and the prey have gotten subtler and adopted modern methods of living. Her family runs a cafe.

As the current heir to her family's style, Homura wields the family sword, a tsukumogami blade. Given the state of her hair, she's definitely had occasion to do so in the past, as the longer one remains possessed by the sword, the more of the victim's hair turns permanently white.

While she avoided the repeated attempts of her high school's kendo club to recruit her, she was given an offer she couldn't refuse, when it came to the occult club.

[User]
Shimizu Kaori
Playground

---

"Aha!" Upon hearing from Tomoko-chan that she could indeed, carry off the Zasshiki-Warashi and keep-ahem-dress her up, the spiders mouth turned into a wide, excitable grin. She'd reward Tomoko by giving her a brief, if extremely tight and cuddly hug before pouncing right on the ghost in question, grabbing Hina by the waist and pulling her off the ground. "Ehehe, don't you worry little Hina-chan, I'll take veeeeerry good care of you~!" The spider giggled, holding the ghost tight against her body. In order to make sure she could not escape, the ghost would have the misfortune to find the spider had tied a thread of silk around her arms as she was lifted into a princess carry.

"Byyye tomo-chaaan~!" She'd shout, waving bye to the group as she'd proceed to run away at high speed. "Stop by my place later and I'll show you all how cute Hina iiiiis~!"

[Assistant]
Hina was unconcerned with Shina's teasing and Kaori's request. Of course Tomoko wouldn't allow that pervy spider to take her home and dress her up and let her serve as bait. As a detective, Tomoko would be willing to dress up herself. What self-respecting investigator would expect a Watson to do what they wouldn't? It was a sort of code of honor among detectives, Hina understood from stories. Knowing this to be true in the depths of her soul, Hina smugly listened as Tomoko explained the situation. The girl never could resist a good monologue, but this was something Hina respected as an artist herself.

"...Wait, what?"

Surely Tomoko misspoke. Hina had never volunteered to be bait. She volunteered Tomoko to be bait.

"T-tomocchi," Hina called the girl by a cutesy over-familiar nickname to re-establish their close friendship, "Tomo-tan... Tomo-tama...!"

Kaori gave Tomoko a tight hug before rounding on Hina.

"T-TOMO-DACHI," Hina whined as Kaori scooped her up and bound her with webbing, "TOMO-TOMO, PLEASE."

Hina squirmed and whined, flailing around like an unmanned fire hose but with the strength of a particularly agitated shrimp cracker. Her blubbering and squealing only proved how effective she would be at roleplaying a literal child.

"NOOO DON'T TAKE 'GOOD CARE' OF ME," Hina babbled, "OR 'BAD CARE' OF ME EITHER FOR THAT MATTEEER~"

And like that, Hina was easily carried off like a princess. Only whinier.

[User]
As Hina was carried away by a certain spider, Shina just sort of watched. Well, there was nothing to stop that perverse spider. Well, they probably had a bit of time before they really could go pick up their Zashiki-Warashi from the spider. "Hmm, well, while we wait, there's a cute little cafe I run nearby. We can pick up a little drink. Tea or Coffee. There are even cute little desserts if you want one." Shina was obviously trying to promote it. "It's called 'Tanuki Cafe'. Yes, yes. I know, original. It'll be my treat even." Really, it was about as likely a real offer as it were a trick... But it was a free tea or coffee. "I don't think we should get anything for the spider... Or should we get her a nice strong coffee..." A sly little smile covered the Tanuki's face as she wondered how a youkai spider would react to caffeine.

"'Course, we could also head over and make sure our spider comrade isn't doing anything horrid to the cute Zashiki-Warashi." She also offered, though despite her suggesting it, she didn't seem all too interested in it. "I really could go for a nice tea right now though."

[Assistant]
Akari watched the proceedings with a sense of relief. Having an actual child around made her position much more secure... otherwise she was sure that their club leader would have taken some far more drastic measure to force her to act much younger than she actually was. And that would be a disaster! Aside from not wanting to be bait, or put on the spot like that, there was no way anyone, even a youkai, would have bought that. Right?

"Handy? Um... okay..." she nodded, polishing off the bottle. Right, ghost hand. She could do that.

[User]
"Hey! Wai-" And Kaori was already gone. Jeez, she worked fast. Though she probably was the best costume designer among the club members. Especially for short-notice costumes, with all that silk. Still, Homura felt like it would probably be better if she weren't left completely to her own devices, either.

"I feel like I should follow her. On the other hand, tea." Homura shrugged. "I suppose while we wait, we've got to plan our next move. No use letting Hina get disappeared because we weren't prepared with a good trap after setting our bait."