[System]
Appearance: Elleonora is 1, 73 m tall with well honed body. She has shoulder length black hair and blue eyes. Her clothing of choice is well her armor. She wears metal plate breast plate over a chainmail, metal greaves and elbow length gauntlets. Pretty much how it's in the picture but with a chainmail under the chestplate. Under the armor, she has a few scars around her body. Mostly left from before she started wearing said armor.

 Her weapon of choice is a big two handed battle hammer. She uses it almost constantly for every battle. If the surroundings doesn't allow it, she uses a small short sword she keeps on the back of her belt.
Age: 20

 Race: Human

 Class: Cleric Lv 3

 Biography: Elleonora was born on the roads. Her mother was part of a merchant's caravan and her father was a traveler that happened to share camp with the caravan one night. After that night, her mother never met her father again. Thus Elleonorah was raised solely by her mother for a few years at least. It wasn't much of a living as the caravan constantly was in bad finance situation and when she was around 7 years old the caravan broke up and everyone moved away. Her mother got stuck in the middle of some backwater town, with no money, no transport and a little child. After a few days of struggling, her mother left her at the local church under the pretense it was for a few hours, but then she vanished. Since then Elleonora lived at the church, helping around the place as the cleric was trying to convert her and show the child the beauty of the god he worshiped.

 All things considering, the religion didn't click right with her. She couldn't put her mind behind a god like that. One day she simply decided to live her life around her own philosophy of the world. She started helping people, fighting those she deemed unworthy. It was a pretty simple way of thinking... beat into submission or kill those who are danger and help those who can be helped. Her holy magic was powered by her own dedication to her way of thinking. One day she left the church and the town, heading into the vast world.

[User]
Malkai

Once at the village, Malkai was quick to go his own way. While everyone else went to the common area to relax Malkai stayed in his room to meditate. He had ordered some food to be delivered to his room and specifically called for fresh berries. Falchion rested upon his staff and was already getting read to head to bed. While Malkai's partner tends to keep an eye open when he sleeps, today was also a very strenuous day after all that fighting and flying.

Some time passed and soon there was a knock on his door. Malkai went to answer it and it was one of the servant, who had brought him a plate with bread, a bowl of berries, and a mug of water. Malkai wordlessly took these things and closed the door on the servant. Closing the window curtains, Malkai took off his wooden masks and revealed his face. To a casual observer he could pass as human, but without his skin-changing pigments and his large wooden mask, a keen eye could spot his orcish features. And the last thing Malkai or this group needed was more people hunting them down for the race of certain party members.

After getting comfortable Malkai ate his meal quietly, but left a few berries untouched. They were indeed freshly picked; he could still taste the earthly energies in the juices. So he casted a spell on them. Donning his mask Malkai's hand hovered over the berries. [Goodberry.] Malkai said in druidic. A brief flash of energy flown into the berries and soon, twelve berries were infused with magical energy. Now these berries could provide sustenance as if they were a full meal, as well as heal very minor injuries, within the next 24 hours. It wouldn't be as good as a proper healing spell but they could work in a pinch.

Next thing Malkai did was go up to his window. Using only his finger he inscribed runes into his window still. [Flame Trap.] He was slightly worried about possible drow assassins coming through his room and intended to ward them as appropriate. He would do the same for the door but before he did so, he wrote a note that said "Do not Disturb - Party members knock first". If they barge into his room anyways, it was their fault for not reading the sign. Once he felt his room was secure Malkai crawled into bed and went to sleep.

---

Veridis Quo

At the Desert Diamond, Veridis personally made sure his horse was comfortable inside. He was no Druid but he could tell his horse got really spooked when the gnolls attacked. "Shh, shh. You did great today. Yours safe here." Feeding the horse a sugar cube Veridis left the beast to rest.

Inside some of the others were already conversing and eating. Normally Veridis would use a time like this to chat or tell stories, but he figured that this was a time to relax not showboat. So instead he walked towards the inn's hearth, taking out his lute to play a soothing tune for the others.

[Assistant]
[Desert Diamond, Common Area]

 Sitting at a table in the far back right corner of the tavern or inn was a hooded man. He looked up and watched the new visitors
one by one enter the establishment. He noticed something odd about one of them. A elf in the company of some rather interesting friends.
He snickered and pulled from his pocket a tiny mouse and brought it up to his mouth so he could whisper into its ears. "They've arrived"
Then placed the mouse down and it scurried off. He then got up and headed for the door. As he exited one of the villages guards entered.
The guard moved to a table and sat down plopping his helmet down on the table.

 One of the bar maids looked up at the right time and sighed. The guard looked rather exhausted like the day had been much longer for this one.
She walked over and leaned onto on of the chairs. "Everything alright? Another rough night huh?" She asked. He looked up at her and then
back at the table. "You could say that,... me and a few of my fellow guardsmen where patrolling on a simple night survey. Then Jenna got hit with
a black arrow of some kind. It wasn't one of the Gnoll arrows either. It was different. The design of the tip and when we took him to the apothocarythere was not much we could do. Turns out the arrow was poisoned by some sort of advanced spider venom." The talk began to make the woman nervous. This also caused the man who was leaving to freeze for a second and look to the guard. The face of concern on his face gave it away. This was not something he wanted to hear.

 "Shit,..she will want to hear about this." He said in a low voice. Not sure if anyone heard him or not he fully left the tavern.

Vivian

 What felt like hours was only minutes as Vivian laid upon her bed staring at the ceiling of the room. She closed her eyes in attempt to sleep. She heard a sound of a bird landing on the window and looked over to see a Raven staring right at her. Then she heard a voice. "Well now,.. to think I would see you here of all places." As she heard the voice she looked in its direction to see a familiar person sitting in a chair in the corner. "Long time no see Cassandra,..." She said. The dark elf the emerged from the dark corner and into the light. Unlike her sister Vivian who had silver white hair. Cassandra's hair was a bright red color and matched her just as red eyes. "..Im impressed that you survived the trek of the underdark dear sister. That place is dangerous for a book worm like yourself. You spent to long in that library."

 Vivian rolled her eyes and moved to stand but felt her sisters hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, I know your not here to chase after me. You would not be in the company of these strange people if you where. Your out here like me on the run from our brothers and sisters. Problem is you lead them straight to me. Good thing they don't know that yet. Your eyes have been opened and now you are here." The words caused Vivian to pause for a second and as she looked up she felt her sisters lips against her forhead. This caused her to blink and when her eyes re opened she could see deeply into the red eyes. "I can not travel with you, so don't bother asking. It is best if the two of us are not in the same place at one time. However, I do have friends and I will use them to keep you informed on our brothers and sisters. Expect a attack inside the temple."

 With that Cassandra then kissed her sister upon the lips and pulled back. She pulled out a knife and took one of the fruits from the basket and took a bite from it. She smiled and looked to the window." Its a shame,... it was quite a wonderful night out." She said. Vivian looked to the window and then looked back to find her sister gone. The whole thing took her breathe away. She was in shock to find her sister here of all places and to find that Cassandra was willing to help her. After everything that had happened.... Vivian looked to the necklace and sighed. No way was she getting some sleep now. She grabbed it and put it on instantly turning back to her surface elf features. With that she exited the room and proceeded to go down the stairs.

Alexander

 Alex had no idea these two ladies where this into the leaf. They seamed rather enjoying it. Not that he never partook in it himself. Nothing like a good puff here and there after a battle. It did make for a good stress reliever and he could see that Elleonara took it to a whole new level by adding cherries to it. Some people liked it in that way. He couldn't say he was too into the different scents really. He was more into tasting the different mead or ales then he was of tobacco. Speaking of mead.... "Bartender,... I would like to try the local mead. Not going to get a whole lot. Don't want to have a hangover tomorrow." He said as he pulled a coin forth. Soon after the mead was poured and he quickly too a drink. It had a bit of spice too it which he did not expect. It was a sweet spice though cinnamon to be exact. He thought it was actually... pretty good.

 Soon he noticed from the reflection that the woman of the hour had decided to join them. Vivian seemed a bit odd though as if her mind was else where but only for a few seconds as she seemed to get back to the present. Was it the necklace?... perhaps with their help the locals can see Vivian as not the drow but for what she was. Tell then the woman had to put on a disguise. He sighed as she approached.
"Couldn't sleep huh?"
 "You can say that,... my mind is to far off to sleep." She looked to see if the bar had any wines. She noticed some elven wine and raised a brow. There where no elves
here from what she could tell yet there it was. They must have it shipped for their elven guests that arrive. She gestured to the bottle and put a few gold pieces down.
"Keep them coming..." She said as she touched her lips with her finger tips. She couldn't help wonder what her sister was thinking doing all that. Her sister always liked teasing her. She wondered if Cass had found a new lover yet... or would it be too hard for her to do so.

[User]
 "Hey, Catarina." Elleonora called when the other warrior of the group joined them. The cleric then smiled when she showed interest in her pipeweed. It was nice to meet a fellow person who appreciates the niceties of a good smoking pipe. She then pulled a little from the pipe, before exhaling the smoke in the form of a nice ring." I bought the leaves from a traveling merchant before I headed through the desert, but for the cherry incense, I made it myself. I learned it from an old traveling wizard from up north. He took me under his wing once I got injured and needed place to stay while I was healing." She explained and slowly faced her pipe towards Catarina." Want to try it?" She asked with a smile.

 "Ohh, Parum, yes indeed." The cleric agreed, still offering her pipe to Cata to try it." One of the more enjoyable things I allow myself every now and then." She admitted with a smile. As a cleric she had been rather lucky because her powers came not from a deity, but her own conviction of helping people and code of honor. Thus effectively making it that as didn't really have things she had to withheld from herself.

 Her ears then perked up when she heard their bard starting his craft. It was nice tune, it relaxed the mind and body, especially when it was coupled with the nice scent of cherry in the air.

 "Ahh, Vivian, glad to see you join us. What's your opinion on pipeweed?" The cleric asked with a smile. The cleric didn't say it, but she suspected something had happened. People didn't just change their decision like that. Still it was nice the elf had joined them. It made it easier to defend her. That said only the druid and the wizard of the group hadn't appeared still. Elleonora had not actually seen the half elf woman since they arrived and took to their rooms. Maybe she'd join them later.


[System]
Age: 16

Gender: Female

Appearance: "H-hello..."

Sakie stands at a slightly taller than average height of 5'8'' and usually wears clothing that has lots of space to carry around her tools of the trade such as jackets or cargo pants with lots of pockets. Her glasses are in fact fake and make her stand out less by dulling her particularly sharp eyesight when in class or in public.

Personality: Sakie is a shy girl with a tendency to be a tad clumsy when not engaged in anything related to self defense, Youmu extermination, life or death battles, or cooking- in which case she shifts to a far more serious side and loses anything remotely related to her usual amounts of klutziness to shift into an efficient and streamlined reactive fighter. The freshman seems to be one of those people who gives off the impression of a rabbit and will often freeze when put on the spot light, having rather severe stage fright when crowds are around classroom size or more. She tends to be on the quieter side due to her mellow and slightly introverted personality, though she can be surprisingly straightforward and natural when used to someone. Sakie also likes regular stereotypical girl things such as cute stuffed animals almost as much as sharp pointy weapons.

Profession: High School Student

Abilities: Besides the regular Ikaishi bodily reinforcement abilities, Sakie's specialty is Hidden Weapons Mastery due to her bloodline's affinity leaning towards that of "Eyes of Insight" and "Rakansen". The former, "Eyes of Insight", is the reinforcement of the eyes above the norm, resulting in ocular vision that could see in a variety of spectrum such as infrared as well as able to see towards the more subtle of spiritual energies such as "trails" and "footprints" rather than the more direct aura searching that regular Ikaishi can do. Besides that, the Suniyama Clan has incredibly good vision, often seeing farther off into the distance than regular people as well as being able to discern minute details a lot of people miss.

The latter, "Rakansen", was developed from the distillment of several Chinese martial arts centered about hidden weapons and taught to those born of the Suniyama Clan. "Rakansen" is not so much an inherent bloodline ability like the "Eyes of Insight", but more a specialized training that builds up the body in a certain way, especially the muscle of the hands and fingers. The end result is the ability to fling hidden weapons such as darts, throwing knives, coins, pebbles, and so on with incredible strength, speed, and accuracy through esoteric methods, often times being able to shoot clean through wood and embed thrown objects into stone and metal or firing off her hidden weapons so fast it could be likened to a brief stream of machine gun fire. Besides straight shots, Sakie can throw things in such a way that they can ricochet, curve seemingly in midair, and return to her hands or charge up her weapon with her energy to the point they explode upon contact with the enemy like a fragmentation grenade. As a result, this particular Ikaishi carries a lot of acupuncture needles, throwing darts, and arcade tokens as well as more dangerous weapons such as shuriken, throwing knives, sleeve arrows, rope dart, miniature chakram, braided nooses, and kunai. Though the majority of her abilities are range based, Sakie can also fight at close combat via knives or bare hands via regular Chinese martial arts.

History: Suniyama Sakie is a person that lives two lives. One one hand, she's a shy high school student who easily blushes when teased and is easily flustered by such things. On the other hand, she belongs to a particularly militant clan of Ikaishi who takes their duties seriously by prowling the streets at night from the shadows, on eternal vigilance against particularly hostile Youmu. It was due to her clan's spartan training that Sakie had a rather painful childhood filled with a multitude of harsh training activities in order to build her up towards using the secret arts of Rakansen, which in turn led to her not knowing how to make much friends due to a lack of interests in most topics that regular people her age have. As such, the conditioning that made her a stellar Ikaishi in turn gave her a less than stellar track record among the teen social circles and gave her a lonely school life. Nowadays though, since she surpassed the foundation building aspect of Hidden Weapons Mastery, Sakie has more time to socialize and thus attempts to use it to learn about popular trends such as fashion and shopping in order to make friends. This has... led to mixed results.

Other: Sakie is a very good cook and has a fine palate. As such, she is uncharacteristically picky towards food instead of laidback like with most other matters. Her specialty is Chinese cuisine and she has a wok nicknamed Shishou.

[User] "I-indeed." With a deft and practiced twist of the hand that was entirely at odds with her nervous fac and body language, Sakie spun the plate and then flicked it easily in a snap wrist motion so that the spinning container flew towards a nearby table. Following it was a folded napkin as well as the porcelain spoon which rested flat side down on the cloth. All this with most minimum of noise and not a grain of rice out of place. If anything, this seemingly flashy move aerated the settled rice one last time while it was in motion so that the aroma burst out in a concentrated puff once again, the heat from the inside of the dish rising freely. "One sample of seafood fried rice. I h-hope it is to your liking." The Suniyama heir stated, bowing down to her newest customer.

[Assistant]
"..."

Well, this girl seemed to have some strange sense of style in terms of how she served her food... whatever. It smelled pretty good, regardless, and Kumiko sat down as it was set at the table. Unfortunately, this motion lead to her overstuffed duffle bag bumping into the side of the table rather awkwardly. Given how full it was, it did not take much for the strained zipper to start slipping... and with that familiar noise, the bag unzipped about halfway just as Kumiko set it down. There was a rustling as the bag fell open, ofuda spilling out onto the floor, freed from their overcrowded prison. For a moment, the black-haired girl sat there in disbelief and frustration. She'd spent her morning stuffing them all in there, and now they just came bursting out...?

"... Damn it."

Kneeling down off of her seat, Kumiko began the task of trying to gather up all the ofuda quickly, before someone came and started asking her about them or whatever.

[User]
Reiko observed quietly as the teenagers around her went by with their carefree lives, sometimes spending a few extra moments to analyze the most interesting looking ones, like the stuttering girl that was work on the food stall right over the courtyard, or the gruff one who she offered a free sample as well as the large bag stuffed of more papers than even most PhD candidates carry around. Or, Daichi's own way of dealing with his narcolepsy afflicted friend and the boy who would be as bold-faced as to sleep on a public space in the middle of the morning.

When Daichi returned from his small errand, he would notice a faint smile on Reiko's face, a nostalgic one, almost as if the young woman was already reminiscing on the days of her own adolescence. When the boy talked to her, Reiko answered in as much gentle a voice as she possible could make "Thank you, Kawamoto-san, this city really seems like it'll do me good. A place where children can be this carefree certainly is a good place to live."

"What do you say of me paying the favor back by paying a drink for you, then?" Reiko asked calmly as evaluated Daichi's reaction "As long as you don't mind having me as company for some more time, and... coffee, because I don't think that you are above 18 yet." she called a waitress to get her another cup of café-au-laite and whatever was it that Daichi might want to drink.

[Assistant]
The familiar feel of a hand grasping his shoulder caused Kouta to quickly be thrust from his sleep and back into the waking world, where he was greeted by the words of that one kid from school. Guy had a point, no need to be taking up space that other people could be using. With his head still laid down onto the pillow, Kouta mumbled out a muffled "Sorry," and pushed himself up off of the pillow.

He mumbled to himself, most likely trying to memorize something, as he took the pillow and shoved it back into the case he was resting his feet on. Kouta then slipped into the strap on the case and fastened it to his back so that it wasn't hanging loosely. He then uttered a yawn that shook his frame slightly and stretched before looking about awkwardly trying to figure out what he should do with his time. Deciding that he might just want to relax and watch passersby, he just kind of shuffled out of the way and looked about.

[User]
Daichi let out a small laugh at Reiko's comment, amused at how she still saw the people around them as... Children. It was a long time since he'd heard that directed at him, but it wasn't as if it was insulting or anything. Heck, if she was happy here, then there wasn't any reason for him to worry about her getting possessed by a Youmu or anything. Less work for him.

"No problem, no problem. Though... I guess that we're all kinda quirky, in our own way. Doesn't mean we're still children, though."

The offer of a drink, though... That caught him off guard.

"N-no thanks, I couldn't bother you with such trivialities. I'd be fine without a drink, but thanks for the offer." he declined, waving the waitress away as she hesitated to take his order. "But yes, you're correct, I'm not yet 18. 17, though; doesn't mean I like the taste or smell of alcohol any better. And, let's be real here: it's the middle of the morning; what kind of person drinks at this time of day?"

[Assistant]
Reiko couldn't say that she was happy at having her offer refused, nevertheless, she chuckled "17? Then you really should know not to turn others generosity away, don't you think?" Reiko said, with a hint of a teasing tone under her collected voice. If he was old enough to attend the college on his own (though Reiko doubted that it was the case), so it wouldn't be wrong of Reiko to try and get some amusement out of the first person she had the chance to talk with on this city. It's not like she is teasing a child that does not know that ways of world, right?

"Aren't you even a bit sorry for staining a maiden's pride like this?" Reiko continued saying, still sounding a bit amused "What do you think of paying me back by... hmmm... showing me the city?"

Daichi was an interesting person, so much that Reiko kind of mellowed to him far faster than she would to most people. Talking with him made Reiko feel a couple years younger, when her life wasn't nearly as half as convoluted as it became a semester ago, thus she thought that it would be good to stick around the boy for a bit more.

"If you wish, you can even tell your friends that we are on a date." Reiko moved to drive the last metaphoric nail in the coffin of Daichi's psyque, just before calling the waitress again and giving her the payment saying that she could keep the change as a tip.

Then, Reiko circled the table and stopped right besides Daichi, just before bending down to whisper her true intentions in the boy's ear "Also, I want to know the places where youmu are more likely to spawn, or... do you think someone with experience wouldn't notice that you are all linked to the spirit world?" she said pointing to the undeniable proof, the girl with a bag stuffed of ofuda.

[User] Looking at what spilled out from the bag, Sakie's face blanked out before she went into a quiet panic, fidgeting this way and that with her eyes darting about the place. Shaking as she tried to figure out how to help the girl without being all that pushy, the rushed cook simply made her way over after pushing her chef's hat comically over her eyes so she couldn't see anything and bent down to help the girl pick up her spilled ofuda. Even without her sight, her hands alone easily picked the spilled paper seals due to their honed sensitivity and sense of touch, which seemingly drew her fingers over to the papers like a magnet did metal. "H-here you go!" Sakie stuttered even as she held out a splayed hand of ofuda like she was showing a deck of cards before sliding it together into one regular "deck" like she was in a casino before handing it over to the girl. With her hat still hiding her eyes in a very silly manner.


[System]
Appearance:

Age: 30
Height: 6 feet 7 inches
Weight: 280 Pounds (of muscle)
Good Personality Traits: * Hardworking
* Strong
* Loyal
* Honest
* Caring

Neutral Personality Traits:* Dry
* Paternal
* Reserved

Bad Personality Traits* Brutal
* Impulsive
* Unself-critical

[User]
Bastian silently listened to Elizabeth. Maintaining the same reserved look. Attempting to ignore his famished stomach growling, like a Cerberus from the jaws of hell, and the cravings of gnawing his arm off. Unconsciously licking and biting his lips.

"I cannot say I've always understood my actions. But, I'm usually right in the end…" Bastian uttered while rubbing the back of his neck, then scratching his shoulder. Quickly inhaling and letting out a brief sigh. Pausing for a few seconds..."I wasn't given much of a choice to turn around, after the entrance closed behind us."

Bastian smiled showing his upper teeth. "If his circumstances were genuine, and fate wishes we work together. Our paths will intertwine. Perhaps, we'll see each other when we're finally into town. Until then, let's promise to be prepared for anything." Clenching the reins and turning around, noticing pillars of smoke coming from the skies. So close to town, Bastian could literally smell it.

With a squeaking creak, the barrel opened up. The smell that followed was pungent and smoky, like sticking your face near a bonfire and inhaling. His twitching nose knew the pleasant aroma coming from the spiced mutton. Making Bastian's mouth water. Grabbing it by the bone.

"Thank you." He said. Opening his maw wide and sunk his fangs into the thick meat, bloody juice squirting onto his tongue, cramming the mutton inside and trying to remind himself to properly chew, and with his mouth closed. The seasoning only enhancing, the bliss expressed through Bastian's smile. "This is so good…"

[Assistant]
Liz shook her head. "No. I don't think so. Sometimes fate only gives you one chance." Liz told him sadly. She didn't believe in fate or destiny. Yes some things happened for a reason but not everything. She refused to hope that things would change. She accepted that She had only so much control but she wouldn't give up the little she had.

She took one of the fish and picked at it. She was hungry and knew that she had to keep up her strength. But she was worried about all the things she didn't understand. She wanted to help Bastian but How could she if he didn't listen to her? She was worried that she was just making this harder for him. So far she had been nothing but a burden. She wanted to do more. She felt like she should. She had never felt like she had a purpose before so she didn't know what to do about it. All she could do was give Bastian her best.

[User]
"Well, if my father's old stories are anything to go by. We'll be in a more welcoming atmosphere. Ironic, that the town supposedly filled with soldiers, would be kinder to strangers than the city with frequent tourism." Bastian thought, swallowing the last bite. Finishing their meals and closing distance toward their destination. "But I'll still be cautious. I know there's discrimination, and much worse, where we're heading…"

The wagon approached the front entrance gate. Bastian stared at the several smoke stacks, spewing out above the solid stone walls. Smelling the smelted iron and bronze. Crossing over the bridge. Bastions, barricades and belfry's, far as the eye could see, unable to peer past the width and depth of what loomed in front of them. Two guards in leather garb, armed with polearms, pointing in their direction. Bastian's grip on the reigns tightened, like his throat. Slowing the wagon to a complete stop, fifteen feet away.

"Pay or Permission?!" The guard hollered, his speech reminiscent of a braying jackass. Blinking, taking time to articulate an answer, interrupted with the polearm slamming the ground. "You deaf beast?! Pay or Permission?!"

"Excuse me, but doesn't this town permit access to all lawful strangers?" Bastian asked, jumping down from the wagon, stepping forward and placing his paws on his horse. Met with the second guard's smug smile, spitting something off to the side.

"Yeah, we also enforce the laws of our city. Requiring every non-citizen to pay a toll, which grants them permission to use our resources and benefit from our protection. Unless given strict permission to override that payment, by our king. So, pay us or we'll have to turn you around." The guard said while chewing off and spitting out his fingernail. Bastian stroked the horse's mane, managing to remain calm and avoid staring in disbelief.

"This sounds like extortion to me. Aren't soldiers supposed to be honorable?" Bastian uttered, scratching his chest. The first one let out a hearty laugh.

"Lippy little bastard, aren't ya?" The first guard scoffed. Twirling his polearm around in circles, seemingly to show off its maneuverability. The second guard giving him a steely look, causing him to cease his actions.

"This ain't a shakedown, beast. It's our newest city policy." The second guard responded candidly, glancing in Elizabeth's direction. "That goes for you too miss."

[Assistant]
Liz watched Bastian interact with the guards. It was clear that this was unusual. She had never been here but even she thought that there was something like this situation. She had never heard of a town charging a tac to get in. But when the guard explained why they were doing it. The problem was that she had nothing to offer them. They should know that. While she had a collar on. So what did they hope to get out of this.

"I can't pay your toll. I am a slave." She indicated to the collar that she was required to wear. She didn't know what they would do if Bastian refused to pay the toll. She supposed they could find shelter elsewhere. But she had the feeling that it was more than shelter that he was looking for here. So she would just have to wait and see.

[User]
Giving a suspicious glare, his other paw resting on his hip. Tapping a claw against the hilt of his blade. The guards shifted into more defensive stances, anticipating a fight. He glanced up, spotting vultures flying overhead and circling above one the buildings. A halo of the dead. Hearing the shrill squawks gathering for the feast. He didn't waste time arguing, reaching into his coin purse while sighing. Sounds of heavy coins shuffling between his paw.

"...How much?" Bastian answered in a defeated tone. The second guard responded by pointing to an opened barrel among several sealed ones grouped nearby. Bastian blinked and turned his attention to a cloaked figure approaching the barrel and dropping in two silver pieces. He hadn't even sensed the figure's presence, despite being a mere lunge away. The doors making a wretched squeak as the figure stepped through. Bastian plodded over to the barrel brimming with silver, tossing the coins inside. A distinct smell assaulted his nostrils and lingered. Feeling a sudden cold shiver tingling the hairs on the back of his neck. Bastian rubbed underneath his nose before climbing up into his seat. He clenched the reins and started leading the wagon inside. The guards both went aside, the gate doors opening wide. The first guard gazed at Elizabeth, his impish grin spoke clearer than words could convey. As the gate closed behind them, finally entering the city.

"Hey! Horses and wagons go in here!" Called out by a stocky boar beastkind adorned in armor. Finding themselves among a dozen blacksmiths using crafting tables, leather racks and forges on their porches outside their homes. A massive crowd surrounded stalls selling a sundry of armor and weapons. Causing a ruckus. Shouting too many things at once, making it impossible to decipher without sharp ears. Seeing far more beastkind than he expected. Watching one wrestling with a human, both muscle-bound. The beastkind grappled the man, lifting them off the ground. Then slammed them down onto the stone road, displaying their differences in power. Not a single sentinel was in sight.

The beastkind stomped on the man's back, flattening his attempt to stand back up. Curb-stomping the human and breaking off two of their teeth. Spitting out the blood oozing from their mouth. "You win, I give..." The man uttered, looking up at the beastkind. But it was clear the beastkind wasn't finished. Bastian couldn't overlook this, leaping down from the wagon and striding forward. Being ineffectually shouted down by the boar for ignoring him. The beastkind noticed Bastian, immediately lifting his hands in a stopping motion. Taking a few steps away from the injured man, enough for the man to flee inside the nearest shop.

"Relax. He incited the conflict, claiming beastkind were barbarians. Far too mentally deficient to fight and that tactics, only humans are capable of, win battles. So I tested him." The beastkind explained, speaking in a righteous tone. Bastian scowled at the beastkind, but turned back. He glared at the boar, returning to the wagon.

"My horses and wagon better safe, if either get even a single scratch, I'll have your head." Bastian warned heading inside toward the stables. The boar smiled.

"Fret naught, we beastkind must stick together." The boar replied being chummy. Bastian sighed, hopping down after he stationed the wagon.

"Forgive my rudeness." Bastian apologized, sounding calmer. "What exactly is going on in this city?"

"Why, you're amidst an ongoing revolution my friend." The boar answered. "Thanks to advancements. Revolutions no longer take lifetimes to succeed…" Bastian listened while helping Elizabeth down. "Though, if you plan to stay long I'd suggest not going to the north side of town. Most places still disallow our kind to enter and strictly enforces those laws..."

"Is that the purpose of the new tolls? Funding this 'ongoing revolution'?" Bastian questioned, crossing his arms. The boar firmly nodded. Bastian began rubbing his chin.

"That's what I figured. It's clear something big is unfolding, unbeknownst to the neighboring cities. I haven't heard a single murmur about this...but I'm not here to concern myself with politics." Bastian thought taking Elizabeth's hand. "I wanted to confirm something, follow me and keep close."

[Assistant]
Liz watched as Bastian paid their toll. She had mixed feelings about it but there wasn't anything she could do about it. She had no possessions of her own. Hopeful the money he lost could replaced somehow. She hated that she was costing him so much while doing so little. While their were laws that kept the beastkind out of certain places the beastkind had more rights than she did. Which was fair considering she was a convicted murderer.

Once the wagon was parked Liz moved towards the back to get out. She paused to look around. She had never seen so many beastkind in her life. In a way it scared her but she knew Bastian wouldn't allow anyone to hurt her. Unless he wanted to. Her owner still confused her. She doubt that would change. He was too different from her. In some ways he was like her father.

Liz had barely stepped out of the wagon when Bastian took her hand. She had little choice but to hurry after him. She swallowed nervously wondering what would happen next. She had to hope that Bastian knew what he was doing. If he didn't they might never get his children back.

[User]
Bastian lead Elizabeth outside the stables. Scowling after a moment of preparation, walking toward the marketplace. The place filled with silent chattering, sneers and boisterous laughter. Many beastkind twisted their necks, nearly snapping them off. Glancing at Bastian coming from behind, glaring daggers. Penetrating through the large crowd until spotting the face-down human corpse amidst the assembled. The dressed-up and deceased aristocrat approached by several guards with heads hung low. Helmets covered their identities. Unlike dogs, they didn't need tails tucked between their legs to display their trembling bones. Picking the body off the ground and hurling it into an empty wheelbarrow.

"Lotta good your precious wealth and fashion sense did ya!" An armored beastkind called out in a gravelly voice, east of Bastian and loud enough for Elizabeth to hear. Bastian shielded his twitching nose with his paw, the familiar pungent scent lingered. Gently squeezing her hand and taking them into an dead-end alley. Resting his paws onto her shoulders, sighing and removing the feigned fury from his face.

"Here's the plan." Bastian confided gazing into her eyes. "The northern building that I cannot access, with the vultures circling overhead. It's a gambling ring. That's where you'll locate my target that's connected with the kidnappers. She's nicknamed 'The Bladed Beauty', known only by the flayed flesh from her clientele. Rumored to be the best at altering one's entire appearance. Including herself, which is why pictures of her or my kidnappers are likely worthless. Find her, gain her trust and trick her into leaving the premises." His tone was firm, giving her a concerned look. "Given the circumstances with the ongoing beastkind insurrection, you'll actually be safer there than around here. But I'm still asking to put yourself in danger for my sake. Please be careful, I don't want you to get yourself killed."

He stepped back, dropping his arms to his side. Briefly looking elsewhere and clearing his throat. "I'm going to track the cloaked figure who entered the city before us. I'm certain they murdered that nobleman at the marketplace. But I'm probably being baited into a trap. Their wearing a strong and unique smelling cologne, which is preposterous for an assassin. Unless they wanted to be found. Every beastkind could smell that a mile away. The other explanation is that their working with the beastkind, alerting them to aide and allow them to kill select targets…but if I ignore it. I willingly risk others lives...I have enough eating at my conscious." He said staring at his blade while muttering his last words, clenching his paws.


[System]
Nickname: Will, Francis

Age: 24

Gender: Male

Nationality: Irish

Appearance:

In-Depth Personality: William is your average as-expected man, with a love for exercise from boxing, unloading a few rounds at the shooting range, to crashing back at his home with his golden retriever Heidi. Due to his active and social lifestyle, he's a fairly in-shape and well-prepared man in terms of how to physically handle himself. Though he lacks any advanced knowledge on anything beyond basic first aid, any moderate understanding of sciences, or the patience to comprehend it; in a mad world, he doesn't have time for a college lesson or to bother humoring one. He's also never had to take a life, whether zombie or otherwise; seldom watching TV or having time for the movies between work and his extracurricular activities have left him the odd man out from most social media. When he will have to kill, it will remain with him as a horrid reminder of the new world, and he may even hesitate when met with children or infants to which are infected.

Character background: William Lyons was raised in Armagh, Ireland with a pair of loving middle-class parents, Alexandra and Thomas Lyons. A rather quiet but hands-on child, he grew to excel at physical activities whilst keeping his grades at an above average constant for the majority of his schooling. As a teenager, he was as mild as could be, unleashing any frustration he had upon the punching bag and relaxation at home with Heidi; his life only met diversity when he grew into his late teens and moved to his own nearby apartment upon Station Rd.

Working full time as a teacher and coach for the local Epicentre Youth Group, he'd spend the good majority of his days helping children come to quelling their quarrels with their guarding and allowing them to ventilate any pent-up emotions they had in a safe environment or through acceptable means - such as punching pillows, counting to ten, jogging, ec cetra ad infinitum. For a few years, he kept up his life to aid youths through their troubles until he met some trouble of his own. Once night whilst at the local pub, he met a woman who would tug at his heartstrings more than any other; her name was Rebecca Lavoie, the woman who seemed so mellow and relaxed on the surface, only to entice young William with hints of lascivious grandeur and more, should they decide to know greater of each other after a few drinks and an exchange of numbers. Their relationship took off - yet she soon had to find herself returning back home to Toronto due to a soon-to-be expired visa keeping her time short.

A year or so passed, with the two remaining in contact by basic social media - with William still quite new to it all, leaving him to be rather scatterbrained with anything new added onto his phone. Deciding that he had finally enough money saved to feel comfortable with a vacation, he had taken his flight for Toronto from Dublin and expected to see his lover once again. Unfortunately, this is when the local pandemic spread... William was staying at one of the local hotels before forced quarantines were established for all recipients of the building; one by one, they were led like cattle by what informal military personel could be afforded to handle the job before one of the infected residents had already turned on one of the higher floors and taken a few lives in their wake. While the military was busy fighting off the minor horde upon upper floors, William took the chance to escape from the chaos and leave the building as soon as he could; the streets were far less better off with cars piling into bumper-to-bumper traffic. Escaping by what street smarts he had by prowling about to his utmost extent, he snuck for one of the local closed gun stores to rob for a light yet simple firearm before sneaking out for shelter. He found himself to the bunker, taking the chance to seek refuge when he could.

Equipment:
• 10 MREs
• 20 Water Bottles
• Bedroll
• Dark-Green Coffin Tent
• Leather Wallet (ID/LTC/$75)
• Verizon Edge 7 Phone
• Weatherproof Boots, beige pants, dark-green waterproof hunting jacket and wool cap.
• Hunting Backpack
• Two Duffelbags

Weapons:
• SIG Sauer M400 Enhanced (10 STANAG Magines of 20 round capacity)
 - 5 120-round boxes (559 rounds)
• H&K 45 (3 Magazines of 12 round capacity)
 - 8 50-round boxes (376 rounds)
• Black Label Tomohawk
• Benchmade Fixed Black Knife
**By putting this CS up in the OOC for approval, you have read all of the rules and have agreed to have fun. Welcome to the RP, my friend :)**[/sub]

[User]
"Tail! Wake up! Tail You're late for work come on wake up!"

Thalia woke up to being frantically dragged off her bed.

"Hmm-? What's going on?" Thalia asked while being dragged by her feet.

"We're late for work come on!" Thalia recognized the voice as Kate.

Thalia scrambled up from the floor before looking at the clock that read 6:34. She looked back over at Kate but she was already dashing around half dressed while also slurping coffee from her Three Days Grace mug.

Thalia closed her bedroom door and started to get dressed herself before running out to the living room and running after the now dressed Kate down the halls of the apartment building.

"I'm driving!" Thalia yelled after Kate as they ran down the halls.

"Fine! But I drive home!"

They both climbed into the Minivan and sped off towards Tim Hortons.

"What happened? Why did you wake me up so late?" Thalia asked.

"Forgot to set my alarm, didn't realize I had a shift today."

Thalia laughed.

"Hate when that happens. Wait- it's not even 7! Today is Thursday right? I don't have my shift until 8! HA!" She exclaimed.

"HEY! Don't rub it in! I don't choose my shifts!" Kate snapped back.

"If you did they would be 2pm to 3pm and quite imaginary." Thalia Snorted.

"True that. Oh- we're here now."

"Oh! I never would have noticed! Not like you know... I'm driving?! But nooooo! I Just let it drive itself, fell asleep too!" Thalia said jokingly.

"Stop wasting time we're late and we nee-"

Thalia cut her off.

"/You/ are late. I am just really early! Better hurry up!"

Kate quickly scrambled out of her side of the car as Thalia got out slowly laughing as she ran in.

As Kate got behind the counter Thalia walked up slowly to her.

"Hey Kate? I'll Have a Medium Coffee, Three Milk, Half sugar, a boston creme donut, Bacon English Breakfast Sandwich and 10 timbits to go! One of each kind!"

Kate smirked before mouthing "I hate you" to Thalia as she went to finish the order.

[Assistant]
Lonely World, Season One

---

August 29th, 2018 - One Week after the accident…

01:30 | The Smith Household

---

A thunderstorm had rolled in as darkness covered the city like a veil. Up until now, the blackness of the asphalt streets had never been rivaled by the night. Up until now, they hadn't seen a country-wide-- no, a worldwide disaster such as this one. The power was still on in about half of the city. Lights still speckled the downtown streets of Toronto, but left the more isolated suburbs and rural areas shrouded in dark.

---

Lizzy gently shifted one of the blind panels aside and peered through the tiny sliver of window that she could see. Outside, the rain still fell in the dead of night, the clouds blocking out any remaining light that the moon would have casted upon the now silent city. The young brunette's eyes scanned across the dark street, though what she was looking for remained unknown.

 "I don't see anything.."  She whispered back in the direction of her mother, her voice quivering as she did. Lizzy's mind raced, a thunderstorm of emotions more violent than the storm outside, raged inside of her head. At first, it had been panic like most people would've felt. Then came the true fear and the overwhelming nature of what had happened had hit her. Finally, a wave of sadness, before she had finally accepted the situation and started to wonder about their future. However long-- or short, that may be.

She slumped back down against the wall of the house, her knife grasped gently in her hand. A shiver went up her spine as she thought of the dead body in the next room over, the person that had all but raised her, gone from this world. A single tear rolled down her face, almost invisible in the dark, but still present. A show of mourning for her. Lizzy balled a fist; She would not be overtaken so easily.

 "...S-so...now what?"

[User]
Al Flaherty's Outdoor Store, Toronto, Canada

August 29th, 2018 - 19:25 EST

rainymood.com

---

 The downpour hailed down without mercy from the abyssal sky, with black clouds crying for what felt like ages and lightning bringing flashes of revelation in the darkness; the weather brought no immediate relief to Francis' mind as his eyes traversed quicker than he did for the new scourge that haunted the country, averting to his utmost extent from the infected. His exposed hands from his crimson hoodie trembled with a mixture of unfiltered fear and adrenaline pushing his every fiber, tugging between the realms of fight or flee - with the latter opportunity gaining the upper hand. His every breath brought permeating clouds to preclude his vision of clarity for short moments, only raising his infuriating ever so slightly; he was adamant for protecting himself, with proper amounts of munitions before he'd find his own short supply dwindled to nothing - as he would shortly follow after in such a bind.

 He remained kneeled at the edge of the alleyway, holding his breath and peering out into the light-forsaken street for what demons this hell held; stragglers limped in their expected uncoordinated manner with ghastly groans, leaving both a mixture of relief and strain. "Bloody hell..." He muttered from under his breath as the cloud of his air raised out in front of his eyes, ducking back behind the alley to look for the side entrance into the Outdoor Store. The sounds of the infected's groans still echoing relentless, calling out to the world of their unnatural hunger. Within the narrow alley remained several plastic trash cans laying on up straight, mostly empty; Will moved them in a line near the street, offering an objective and visual barrier to deter any infected from approaching or seeing him. The side entrance in the alleyway was a standard door - but unfortunately locked, as Francis soon realized as the door's knob jiggled yet offered no release. "Fff-... You gotta be fuckin' kiddin' me here." His eyes glanced about as he'd look up at sky, and a crack of lightning streaming across the sky and offering boisterous booms from the resounding thunder; a 'click' in his head striking an idea to mind.

 Francis stood higher in his stance, on his tip toes as he'd ready to see the next flash of blinding light flicker down on them all. An awkward minute ticking by ever so slowly before a flash would appear, meeting with a nearby explosion of thunder resounding from the sky - now was the time! His weight shifted onto his front foot as his rear met with the wood besides the knob, cracking in the door as he broke the mechanism under the guise of nature's voice to conceal himself. With the door smashed open, he'd crouch his way inside and prop the door to at remain as shut as he could with a nearby door stopper. Hesitantly, his volume and breath calmed to seek hearing any shifting or footsteps within the walls of the store; silence fell, save for the muffled groans from behind unbroken panes from the streetside view, a good sign that nobody remained within - at least not infected. No lights remained lit within the building, still under the darkness of the night, with only his adjusted sight to allow him to be guided; his gat following in his caution with each step gliding over the ground and stepping flatly upon the tiles, wincing at the slightest squeak that his damp heels made. But at last, he was opened to the array of opportunity that the outdoor store offered.

 He immediately sought for new clothes, adorning himself in dry, thick outfit to better suit himself to the weather outside, including a dark-green waterproof baretta hunting jacket and waterproof boots; an exhale of yearned relief once again washing over him. "Bless you, god. Bloody bless you." He muttered quietly to himself repeatedly as he'd grab a hearty backpack and two 96L camouflaged duffel bags to begin stocking himself up on dry MREs and accessories; taking both a black label tomohawk and benchmade knife to puck away under his belt, six 62-grain 5.56x45 NATO boxes to completely stuff one of the now-filled (and near painfully heavy) duffel bags, stealing a lovely SIG Sauer M400 rifle from behind the counter - as well as ten 20-round STANAG magazines to later loading. Not forgetting his H&K .45, he'd load half of the next duffel bag with .45 ACP ammunication and bottles of water that he could salvage. And finally, his backpack upon his back would be a packed tent, its respective stakes, and a bedroll stuffed to a near uncomforting level. With carry just shy of his own weight in gear, he'd move to return to the same exit he had snuck from in hopes that all would be as planned...

 By some miraculous fortune of fate, the barrels remained untouched - sparking another prayer from Francis to thank god in his most dire hour of need; his hands and feet supporting his weight and peering over the bins to see the roamers still at their mindless stranding, offering him a final blessing as he moved a single bin to take to his escape, returning back to the lit side of town. An hour or so of traversing back to a local apartment upon Day Ave to hide upon the roof; the only way up was via the fire escape, one that he made sure would be tedious for even himself to climb with only a rope allowing one to pull down the ladder from its retraction. Once upon the door, he'd sneak back into his room and rest himself for the physically exhausting night that dragged the energy from him, collapsing onto the bed of the barricaded apartment to take rest for the night. It was a victory, and likely the only one for the next several, painful years...


[System]
Age: 44

Class: Naval Senior Armsman

Equipment:
Light Carapace Armor - Stukov cannot afford to be weighed down in the tight, fast moving brawl of a boarding action, repelling or engaging in, so the only real piece of armor the Senior Armsman wears is a reinforced Carapace chestplate, which also includes his backpack of ammo and oxygen for his rebreathing kit, a model capable of sealing against loss of oxygen, although true void exposure won't make him last long, due to the sheer cold of the Void.

Lucius pattern Mk 22c Shotgun - The shotgun of choice for Stukov, this eight round revolving magazine lets him slam through shells at a frightening rate, with a heavy cartridge that shreds through most enemies not wearing heavy, quality Carapace. And this assumes hits on any given armor's strong points. Like many shotguns, plenty of various ammo types exist for his shotgun, and while Stukov carries plenty of slug and buckshot, he carries a handful of Hellfire and blessed buckshot for handling Daemons in specific. Stukov has no problem using whatever ammo he can get his hands on, or issued for a given mission.

Foehammer - Known by its more humble name the Shotgun Pistol, Stukov uses this as a backup when his larger, bulkier shotgun isn't an option. Unlike his Mk 22c, it is a single shot per load weapon that he usually loads with oversized slug. This is for the reason that if he needs to hit something a distance off, he doesn't need to waste time changing loads in his main gun, or his side arm. And if they are heavily armored, slug has a better chance to punch through than buckshot or most conventional ammo loads.

Combat Knife - Not much to be said for Stukov's knife, it is a fairly standard issue, single edge blade with a point for stabbing as well as slashing. Pretty much a last resort when both his sidearm and main shotgun are of no use to him in a situation.

Flash Grenades x2, Concussion Grenades x2 - Flash Grenades, true to their name, emit a blinding flash of light that blinds both organic and mechanical means of sight for a period of time, making them easy targets so long as they were not protected from the effects. Concussion grenades utilize a shockwave that, while it does little real damage to ship structure or hull, the sheer pressure of the shockwave and the din of noise ensures that, even if the pressure didn't kill a foe, they won't be hearing anytime soon.

Against All Odds: When he was a rookie Armsman aboard his first Imperial Navy vessel, during a transit in the warp the Gellar fields failed and hordes of daemons poured into various breaches in the hull across the Cruiser. Whether it was divine intervention from the God Emperor himself, or sheer stubborn determination from the surviving crew, the Cruiser was able to emergency shift back into real space and drive the remaining daemons and their slaves out the airlocks and back into oblivion where they belonged. The Cruiser suffered over 75% causalities, and could barely limp to the nearest Imperial holding.

Boots on the Ground: Rather than being left to sit around and wait for a new crew to be brought in, the Armsman Stukov was now reassigned to an Apocalypse Class Battleship, since she had recently seen vicious combat and had lost a fair number armsman, amongst other crew. One of his first assignments as part of the new crew was a shore party that was deployed to secure sensitive fleet records lost in a planet wide raid by Dark Eldar. Once again, most of his comrades were wiped out but he survived and personally hauled the reclaimed records back into orbit before the Orbital Bombardment vaporized all Dark Eldar that could be found.

Close Quarters Chaos: Earning his rate as a Senior Armsman, and the right and occurrence of leading junior Armsman into battle gains those that would stand against the Imperial Navy and her vessels. So his first tasking was as part of a wave of Assault craft, specifically the Shark Assault Boat. Under heavy interceptor and bomber escorts most of the first wave of Assault Boats reached their targets, a miracle in and of itself. Heavy casualities were sustained as Stukov rallied any and all Imperials he could find and stormed the bridge of the craft. When challenged to a duel for control over the vessel, he shot the enemy captain cleanly, taking his head off as a fine mist. The following chaos as Stukov led his men back to the boats, leaving the enemy ship in chaos as it fought itself for control as several friendly Imperial vessels bombarded the craft into oblivion the moment its shields failed.

Not one Step Further: The Battleship he was assigned to came under heavy fire and was badly damaged, suffering a force re-entry into the nearby plant and crashing down behind a long forgotten temple to the Emperor. After the survivors took refuge there, they had to hold out until either the Battleship's surviving engines could be overloaded, finishing the beast off beyond any salvage hope, or help arrived. With nowhere to run or hide, Stukov rallied the remaining combat capable men and women, armed them, and held out as long as possible, far longer than anyone short of even an Astartes could consider thanks to tactics and a desperation coupled with nothing to lose. The survivors were saved by passing Inquisitorial vessels, introducing Stukov to work with the Inquisition and, eventually, Inquisitor Caphus himself.

Time with Inquisitor: Nearly ten years aboard his vessels, only recently tasked formally to his retinue.

Appearance:

40K Knowledge Question: Erebus of the Word Bearers Legion

[User]
"Shut it, armsman!"
"Shut it, Stukov!"

Adrianne's head turned almost completely simultaneous to that of Catherine as the pale haired Psyker turned to shout at the guardsman who had dared step into the quarrel.

"This is important!" After having given all the explanation that she felt necessary for the situation, Adrianne would turn back towards Catherine, her purple eyes glaring at her still as she kept on poking Catherine, almost engaging in a small push fight as they were both at that point poking each other!

"I wonder, during your 'infiltration', how much time you spent inside the cult vis-a-vis your lover!" Adrianne said as she leaned in forward with her head, at this point her face almost touching that of Catherine's!
"I guess that could explain why despite your ludicrously long time you spent in the cult, you still turned up nothing of value! Obviously you couldn't see anything if you spent most of your visit under some oversized heretical harlot."

Smirking, Adrianne would tilt her head slightly as she backed off by just a couple of inches.

"I bet if I asked you about the cult hierarchy, you would barely be able to give me even half a dozen of titles... but if I asked you about your lover's huge ass, you could write me a perfect map of it as it was probably the place you spent most of your 'infiltration'."

Adrianne said, raising her fingers as she uttered the last word with enough sarcasm as to burn through the side armor of a Baneblade!

[Assistant]
The argument between Catherine and Adrianne had caused so much noise that they had managed to drown out the music and wake everyone else inside of the mansion with their argument. Most of the other people from her squad walked down the stairs and into the living room to observe the event unfold before them.

Turning to look at Solares, Aviza raised an eyebrow at her fellow Sister of Battle who sat next to her, mug of coffee in one hand, book in the other. "Where is the Inquisitor? I have yet to see him at all today. Did you see him early this morning when you were making breakfast?" asked Aviza, not breaking eye contact. Solares shook her head with a quick, "No I did not." In one sudden movement, Aviza stood up and ran up the stairs of the mansion gracefully.

For a moment, she vanished from sight before reappearing with a data pad in the palm of her left hand. Holding it up in the air, she motioned at it before Solares nodded her head. Bringing two fingers to her lips, Solares let out a sharp whistle to get everyone's attention. Giving no one a chance to respond, she quickly spoke and motioned at Aviza at the same time.

"Aviza has an announcement about the Inquisitor, hold your tongues and let the Celestian speak." Aviza took a step forward and held the data pad out in front of her before speaking. "I am unsure if any of you have noticed his absence but the Inquisitor has departed for the squad for the time being. The information Inquisitor Zhevon left does not say when he will return or if he will return. It says here that I am the next highest ranking member of the squad, and therefore will be in charge until our new Inquisitor arrives." There was a pause as Aviza kept a straight, serious look upon her face.

"I'm only kidding, that would have been priceless. It says the command of the squad shall be moved to Adrianne for the time being, until Artorius, our new Inquisitor, arrives to retake command. Our orders from Andromedai still stand though, so until we are done at the Ecclesiarchian Chapel, you will be following my orders. Solares here was kind enough to make us breakfast one last time, please help yourself and enjoy if you would like. Once finished, gather all of your gear and meet Solares outside on the northern landing pad, the one that overlooks the ocean below. We have a shuttle on the way that will take us into the restricted Sister of Battle area. I will explain more about what our next step is while we are on the way."

Turning to Stukov, Aviza made a motion with her left hand for the Armsman to follow her outside so that they could take in private. "Adrianne, if this Spades person or whatever her real name is turns out to be a threat or issue in the squad, I give you permission to launch her into the atmosphere using your powers. You hear that Spades, you mess up big time or turn out to be a threat and Miss Psyker has full permission to turn you into a living astral projectile, now move. That means you as well Stukov, follow me outside to the landing pad, we need to have a chat in private." With said and done, Aviza headed for the metallic sliding door and held it open for the Armsman, using part of her power armor to keep it from pushing closed and magnetically sealing itself.

[User]
Stukov was about to respond to the fact he was getting told to shut up in stereo when Sis decided to check up on the Boss, coming back with news that he had up and gone off to take care of... Emperor knows what? Well, shit, he couldn't help but decide, he had this bad feeling that things were not going to get much easier in the forseeable future. The voices agreed and urged him to take matters into his own hands right now, something he ignored the whisperings of. If this is what Smiles put up with on a regular basis, Emperor help them both, a psyker's lot was miserable at best. Of course it seemed things would be going as planned, meet with the glorious Sisters of Battle in their throne of power on the planet, even though they were not really beholden to them at all. Not as far as Stukov could be concerned, really, it didn't strike him as something that made sense. And his gut hadn't led him astray before, not when it mattered, so he trusted it in this matter too. Sisters rubbed him the wrong way, and that was that.

Of course dear Sis was intent on having a private conversation after all, and he rolled his eyes, not facing Sis when he did this, and jammed his hands into his pockets with a half smirk, looking at the others present. He had half a mind to believe she was probably just going to put a round through his skull and claim that he had lost his shit and tried to kill her for the Dark Gods or some such nonsense. Before walking out, he bid his farewells to the assembled group eating breakfast, he was used to not eating meals for long periods of time, so it wasn't going to bother him over much at all. "Guess that's my cue then. Enjoy your breakfast Smiles, Spades, Scarlet cunt. And not so much memory of a goldfish, SC, than I'm just liking you progressively less, so the nickname reflects that." With that, he turned and walked out past Sis, the power armor did seem to almost silhouette him as he walked past it, unconcerned by the prospect. Power armor didn't worry him, not really, it was the wearer that would worry him.

Once out of earshot of the group, Stukov made a very frank comment, no difference in tone but completely serious. "Lay hands on me again, and I won't restrain myself for Boss's sake. Besides, we ain't on loaned property right now, and you're girlfriend isn't waiting to put a round through my skull." The mistake of a tired armsman hardly warranted the response she had given, psyker or otherwise, and her toady pointing weapons at him didn't help the mood either. Should he have responded the way he did? Nope, not in the slightest, but he wasn't going to apologize for that now, and as spiteful as it was, he hoped it stained her clothes. Just to make things that much more inconvenient for her. It had been a long, hell, Emperor knows how long at this point, and the last thing he really needed was zealots getting up in his business. Yes, he was, by all accounts, an unsanctioned psyker in the employ of the Inquisition, something frowned upon at best. But he could honestly say to someone's face that it was not something he had gone seeking.

The voices wanted him to do something about Sis right now, before anyone came along to make complications of witnesses, but Stukov ignored them like he had before. The armsman knew a bad idea when it showed up under the ever so dangerous guise of a good idea, and considering the known tension between them? There wasn't getting away with it. Besides, he wasn't in the business of murdering Imperial servants, even over zealous ones, it didn't sit well in his mind. But he would defend himself, that wasn't a problem for him in that regard. Once arriving at the landing pad, he sat down on a cargo box outside the craft that would take them over to the Sister's throne palace, whatever the hell they called it, leaning back against the hull of the lander, not having removed his hands at all. "Alright Sis, let's get whatever is bothering you so bad off your chest, shall we? And I'll play nice with your Sisters, save you the embarrassment, long as they don't try to get twitchy and jump me. I will defend myself."


[System]
Basics
--------------------
Age: 17

Birthday: November 18th

Gender: Male

Personality: Surly and sometimes unapproachable. Troubled, doesn't often talk except to snap at people and say rude things. Humorless, unlike Mattie. Blunt and to the point, he doesn't care whether or not he's with people, although under his tough shell he really misses his sister.

Notable traits: Gets high on prescription drugs (!)

--------------------
Appearance
--------------------
General: Thin from lack of regular meals, and carries a long scar from the bottom of his neck across his cheek, all the way to his hairline, from a knife fight before it all started.

Skin tone: Damn pale

Hair color: Black

Eye color: Honey-brown

Height: 5'9

Weight: 116 lbs

Other:

---------------------
Miscellaneous
---------------------
Biography: Darrin felt too grief-stricken and irrationally angry to stay home after the death of his brother Aaron. He had always been quick to anger, but usually it burned off quickly. Not this time. After leaving a rude note to Mattie in the middle of the night, he ran away and started roaming the streets. He ended up getting involved with drug dealers who gave him some money and a place to stay in exchange for distributing "goods". After himself getting addicted and facing 'termination', society collapsed and Darrin was able to slip away while the majority of the dealers became infected.

Equipment: A baseball bat with rusty nails poking out.

Living relatives: Mattie

Other:

[User]
Nicholas smiled softly, nodding his head. "Alright. Th-Those pills are about to knock me out anyway." He yawned a huge yawn and settled into the couch, trying to get comfortable. It was a hell of a lot easier to get comfortable on this couch than it was on the floor, he noted. His eyes thanked him when he closed them for the night, hand on his stomach. He always put his hand on his stomach when he slept on his back, which wasn't often. It was just the most comfortable for him.

Before long, Nicholas was fast asleep. His face was still remarkably pale, but his cheeks were turning bright red as he slept, and about an hour after he'd fallen asleep, Nicholas started to shiver. His breathing stayed more or less normal, catching at times and quickening at others. At one point, he started crying out in pain.

[Assistant]
Mattie was trying hard not to doze off, but it wasn't easy. At times Nicholas' breathing changed, but it didn't sound serious. It simply sounded like perhaps he was dreaming, and different subconscious stimuli were changing his heart and breathing rates. Not that she knew all those fancy terms. And not that she could do anything if it was more dire. She just wanted to be there.

She was slipping away when a cry of pain made her jerk her head upwards. She was up in an instant and prodding Nicholas roughly. "Wake up!" she said, and shook him for good measure. She might not have been so aggressive about it, had she gotten any real shut-eye. But it hadn't been an option. And now she worried excessively.

She glanced at Cole. Sleeping like a rock. Good.

[User]
Nicholas woke up, not knowing where in the hell he was. When he saw Mattie, at first he didn't know who she was and he screamed. Why wasn't he at the warehouse?! Where was Alisa and mom?!

"Wh-Where the hell is my arm?!" he half-whispered, half-screamed, and then cried out again in pain, panicking. Then, he started to remember. His erratic breathing started to calm down and he sunk back into the couch. Cole started to wail softly, but soon stopped and drifted back to sleep. Nicholas wiggled around on the couch, head leaned back in pain. "It's so hot," he whined. "Mattie, it's so ho-ot!"

---

The commotion being made out in the living room woke Jacob from his already restless sleep. He jumped to his feet, grabbing his revolver off of his nightstand, and charged into the room.

"What's going on?" he asked, concerned.

"It's so hot," he heard Nicholas saying.

Immediately, he went over and crouched beside the chair in front of Nicholas. He put a hand to Nicholas' forehead and cheeks, then withdrew it and shook his head. "God, he's got a fever," he muttered.

[Assistant]
Mattie stepped back when Nicholas yelled at her. After the happy note with which he'd gone to sleep, she hadn't expected that amount of agitation. Her head snapped around to look at Cole. Please be quiet... To her surprise, he did. The relief was short-lived because Jacob had practically hurtled into the room.

"Jesus titty-fucking Christ!" she yiped upon seeing the gun. Fever. Oh no. No no no, that wasn't good. Mattie swallowed, even though her mouth had gone dry. "You can get fevers from other things," she said desperately. "I'm betting the knife he cut with wasn't sterilized. It could be a different infection." But she knew that the risk was high. Denying it would get them nowhere.

Wide, pleading eyes fixed on Jacob. "What are we going to do? Kill him?" She struggled to keep back the tinge of panic.

[User]
"That's all we can do," Jacob said to her, looking at her with a grave expression. "We can't risk it." Hesitating, he readied his revolver, aiming it at Nicholas' head.

"No!" Nicholas yelled, putting his arm up instinctively, as if it would shield the bullet. "Please, no, don't kill me! Don't kill me!"

Jacob lowered the gun against his better judgement, studying Nicholas carefully. With appropriate caution, he again crouched to be eye-level with Nicholas. "Nick," he spoke softly. "What's your full name?"

"Wha-?" he started, then asked, "M-Middle name too?"

"Yeah," Jacob nodded. "Middle name, too."

"N-Nicholas Charles Green."

Looking back at Mattie, Jacob told her, "I need you to do two things for me, okay? Go into the bathroom - it's over there - and get a wash cloth off of the white counter. Those are the clean ones. Then, I need you to go into the kitchen, through that archway there, and get a bottle of water out of the fridge. And no, the fridge doesn't work, I just use it for storage."

[Assistant]
She nodded softly and rushed to the bathroom. She snatched a washcloth like it was the holy grail, then sped into the kitchen like a cheetah on meth, tore open the refrigerator and grabbed a water bottle. Not pausing to consider anything, she returned to the living room. Or the dying room. She didn't know. Mattie thrust the items toward Jacob and tapped a foot on the ground nervously. She didn't want Nicholas to be killed, but if it had to happen, she really didn't want to witness it.

"Do you have, um, drinks?" she muttered. One thing was sure. If Nicholas was going to die, she was going to drink away the grief. Why she knew she'd grieve, she didn't know. After all they had just met. But she felt sure that they were friends. Who the hell gets a friend for one day and then dies? That was fucked up.

"Stupid fucking sage burning piece of shit," she hissed, referring to the former hippie who had bitten Nicholas.

[User]
"All out of booze, if that's what you're asking," Jacob said lowly, proceeding to soak the wash cloth like he'd done the one earlier. He put it on Nicholas' forehead - common thing to do when someone has a fever.

"Hey Nicky," he said. "Stop closing your eyes."

"I can't," Nicholas moaned. "It feels like the water in my eyes is melting."

He was babbling, talking nonsense. He continued, "My tears are so ho-ot."

"That's 'cause you've got a fever, man, calm down," Jacob kept his voice steady, trying to remain as calm as he could be. To be honest, he'd love to just put a bullet in the boy's head and burn the body, making sure that neither he, nor Mattie, nor the baby got infected because of Nicholas.

After a moment of consideration, Jacob dismissed the question of sexuality and grabbed Nicholas' hand, rolling it between his two. "Can you feel that, Nick?"

"Yeah," he whispered.

"Good, that means you still got the feeling in your body. You know what that means?"

"Wh-What?"

Jacob lightly tapped Nicholas on the head and chuckled briefly, "That means you're not a zombie yet, brother."

"Y-Yet," Nicholas moaned.

Shaking his head, Jacob tore the covers off of Nicholas, who hissed at the feeling of cold air. His whole body was shaking, yet his neck had started to form beads of sweat rolling down.

"I'm c-cold," Nicholas told him, but Jacob ignored him.

After folding up the blanket and putting it to the side, making a note to wash it later, Jacob turned to Mattie and said, "You know, it just occurred to me that the first thing we should have done was get all of the blood off of him." He put his hands on his hips and said, "That's probably how he's infected."

"I'm cold!" he repeated, more urgently this time.

"Hush. Your body is burning up, okay? Blankets aren't going to do you any good right now."

Nicholas' whole body shook, and he continuously wiggled around on the couch, obviously uncomfortable.

[Assistant]
"Out of booze," Mattie echoed grimly. This made the situation really dire. "Shit." She observed the events in front of her unfold in near-complete silence. Everything was crumbling in front of her. Leave the baby. Leave Nicholas. Leave Jacob. Find some supplies and hole up a while. She fought the commanding voice in her head, hating that it was her own thought. She couldn't go. They needed her.

For what? Changing Cole's diapers? Repopulating the planet? Like hell. Maybe once he dies. I'll slip away in the night. No no no, she couldn't think like that. Stop it!

The nail had really hit home now. Mattie had allowed this to happen. Mattie had let down two brothers and a friend. Stop. Think.

"Maybe we should tie him up. In case...you know. And cover his mouth." It seemed so barbaric, but right now Nicholas' saliva was probably brimming with infection. Ready to jump into whoever's flesh his teeth tore into. She sifted through the backpacks for rope and found a length enough for his wrists. Forgive me.

She approached him like a rabid animal: slowly, carefully, no sudden movements. His eyes were still Nicholas, still human, but Mattie was scared. Any minute he could foam at the mouth and chomp-chomp.

[User]
Jacob wasn't sure about Mattie's ideas, but he stepped aside. She had survive long enough, just as long as he had, so she probably knew what she was doing. Just in case, he stood close by. The baby in the chair began to wail, and Jacob went over to it and scooped him up in his arms. He held the baby over his shoulder and patted its back, bouncing him as he did so.

"Shhh," he told it. "You're okay."

---

Nicholas turned his head to look at Mattie. His neck was stiff and hurting. Everything was hurting. Everything was so hot. It was so hot it was almost as if his vision was red. It was cloudy. He just wanted it to go away. He didn't want to die - if he did, he would have just let Jacob shoot him. But he didn't want to. He wanted to stay. For Mattie.

"I'm fine!" he choked out as she approached him. "P-Please, don't hurt me! Don't kill me! Please!" he was shouting now, desperate. "I'm g-going to be okay!"

[Assistant]
"Nicholas," Mattie cooed in an attempt to reassure him. She was actually frightened to death, but stubborn as a mule, she explained, "We know you're fine. I'm not going to hurt you, okay? It's just a...a precaution, in case things get messy. She took his hand and....oh. She'd forgotten that he only had one arm now. Awkward. But it saved rope. "Stay still, okay? I'm not going to hurt you." She spoke slowly and articulated everything more than usual, like she was speaking to a sick dog from another country.

Step. Step. She tied his ankles together, tightly but hopefully not circulation stopping. He'd lost enough appendages today. "How does that feel? Is it snug?" She hated to talk to him like this, but she didn't know what the fever could be doing to his brain.

[User]
"Y-Yeah," Nicholas said, shivering. He reached around for a blanket and found none. He was so frustrated. He couldn't hug himself to warm himself up because his only hand one arm, and there were no blankets around - there was nothing. And at the same time everything was so hot. He shook his head violently, but soon stopped because it made his head hurt.

"My eyes are melting," he moaned. "M-My eyes are melting."

[Assistant]
Mattie wished there was ice on hand. A generator would be a really damn nice thing to have on hand right now, so that the freezer would be powered. But no generator. So work with what you've got. She doused the cloth with fresh water, not exactly cold but colder than the stuff that had rapidly warmed against Nicholas' forehead. She backed up, reached into the backpack and dug. One more rope, perfect. She swallowed and went back to him.

"You're not going to like this," she said softly, "but you're going to have to roll with it, okay? Just be still." It sounded a lot nicer than "I'm going to gag you, so don't move." Then she moved quickly to avoid resistance. The rope was tight between his teeth. She tied deftly and took a deep breath. There, now nothing could spread via bite. "I'm sorry, Nicholas, but it's better than killing you. It's just until you feel better." If you feel better. Stupid negative thoughts.


[System]
---

SETTLEMENT: Fireflies

AGE: 30

OCCUPATION: Hunter by day, Bartender by night.

APPEARANCE: Astor is a dark-haired man with medium-length hair, a thick beard, and somewhat severe features. However, when he's dealing with patrons or his fellow settlers, he's all smiles and friendly expressions. He typically dresses comfortably and cleanly. When going on a hunt, he favors earth tones and thick, warm clothing. His casual and bar tending attire, on the other hand, are a bit more relaxed and light. Sometimes he'll throw on some bright colored accessory to attract attention.

FAMILY: Mother and Father, Aloys and Liane, who own and work at The Damn Pub.

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single

FRIENDS: Astor is friendly with most of the residents of Fireflies, as well as some of the hunters and traders from Water Leafs. He is an open mind and a willing ear when tending bar in Fireflies, and he is helpful and courteous when he is out hunting or returning with the spoils of a hunt.

Many local traders and craftsmen appreciate his attention to detail when he brings them the spoils of a hunt, and most of the patrons he serves tend to enjoy the different dishes he makes with what game he is able to keep for himself (and therefore the bar).

Astor also maintains a good relationship with the guards and other hunters, who he often looks to for training and advice.

HOBBIES: Hunting (obviously), Fishing (occasionally), Cooking, Camping, Crafting (sewing, leatherworking, whittling, etc.).

BIOGRAPHY: Astor grew up in the Fireflies settlement, the child of Aloys and Liane Ermengilde, who had been the owners and operators of The Damn Pub for most of their marriage. Being their son came with several potential benefits for Astor, who remains well aware of said benefits.

First among the benefits that could've been Astor's was the breadth of options that were available to him. Many residents of Fireflies looked to drink for comfort, and made offers to the Ermengildes of training for their son, should they offer free or discounted drinks in return.

Astor's second benefit, of course, was the relative wealth that he grew up with. Owning the most popular pub around, his parents were able to ensure that he never went hungry, and that he never had to wear clothes to the point that they fell apart.

This fact on it's own might have caused him to grow up with a bad attitude, were it not for the third benefit; exposure.

Astor grew up helping out around the pub, listening to the stories and laments of the patrons, receiving advice and warnings in equal measure. Because of this, he learned to be grateful for his prosperity, and decided to try and give at least something back to the community - seeking out training as a hunter.

Astor has been keeping up his efforts for most of his adult life, and has little to complain about. The conflict with Water Leafs has left him concerned for the future, but as of the present, he has yet to have a good, realistic idea for a possible solution.

[User]
Back at home, Michelle checked up on both of her parents. She had some time before her next visit, and she tried helping them in whichever way she could, as was the usual routine. Her job was plenty demanding on its own, and both Roberto and Elena knew that, but they took the help whenever Michelle offered because she was too hard-headed to be turned down.

"So you guys haven't been feeling a little funny, right?" Michelle called out from beside the dinner table, her hands occupied with the miscellaneous kitchen items she was working on putting away. "Someone else has the virus, and I'm afraid it's spreading faster than I'd like." Of course, she omitted further details due to doctor-patient confidentiality, but it's not like her parents were going to be kept in the dark for very long. Once word got out to the general public, it spread like wildfire, no matter how bad one tried to contain it.

"We're doing fine, honey, I promise," her mother called out from the backroom, answering for both herself and her spouse who was out back doing some yard work.

"Okay, just checking..." Michelle was just about done when she heard a knock on the door. After cleaning off her hands with one of the kitchen towels, she made her way to the front door, wondering who was paying them an early visit.

"Astor, hey!"

Michelle gave him a quick smile, leaning in for a hug. "How are you doing today?"

[Assistant]
"Hi Fay!" Astor had time to call out before the woman disappeared around the corner. He smirked at the brief flash of leg, but decided not to tease her about it later. Maybe.

He wasn't kept waiting at the door for long. Michelle quickly appeared, and he smiled and returned her embrace.

"Bonjour, Michelle. I'm feeling adventurous today, actually. I took a pair of wolves this morning, and I was hoping to get your professional opinion on something."

Astor was fairly soft-spoken outside of the pub, but he still wore his usual friendly smile as he spoke.

"Are there any diseases that I should worry about if I were to eat wolf meat? I'm marinating it in some strong alcohol, and it'll be thoroughly cooked. I've read about different cultures that used to eat it, but it seems like the smell turned most other people off of the idea."

[User]
Dillan hid his excitement as Fay arrived with their lunch, but his stomach roared with thrill as the thought of actual food gave him more pep in his step. Though as he let Lee be the first to head down he glanced over the edge of their post to see the distant clouds of dust linger in the sky. Roaches. His mind drifted away from the pleasant thought of food as he clenched his fist and gave a hard glare in the direction. If it wasn't for Emma he would have probably left the settlement to hunt the bastards. As he came back to his senses he shook his head and sighed before climbing down to meet with Lee and his sister. A familiar and pleasant smell hit his nostrils as he approached Fay and let a small smile come to his face. "Hey Fay, always good to see ya," he greet and gratefully took his lunch. 'Chicken and rice,' he thought to himself as the familiar smells filled his senses. It reminded him when his mother would make the meal for the whole group.

"Thanks Fay. You don't have to go through the trouble of making me anything, but I really do appreciate it," he thanked her with a genuine smile. "Hey I was meaning to ask you, but do you think you could help Emma out with her cooking? I've been meaning to, but I've been getting a few more hours on watch due to, well, ya know," he said gesturing around to a few more guards stationed along the wall. "She really wants to learn and I was thinking the best cook in the settlement could help her," he said, making sure to throw in the compliment to get on her good side.

[Assistant]
Alyssa scratched her eyebrow as students from all around flocked towards each other to converse. Of course, being a new student once again, she no longer had friends. Some people made kind smiles, but her old friends never approached her, and even though she was afraid to admit it, she was too shy to approach them. Some friends... She noticed not too long after Fay left that Emma had stood up and left the classroom, too. At least, she think she heard her name was Emma, she was a new face to her. The action instigated a similar action of her own, and she too stood up and left the room.

One thing her father couldn't do that she was particularly fond and skilled at was climbing. Using the forest trees or the urban buildings as her personal playground, she could travel from place to place in style. Least, that's what she thinks. Rather, travelling by rooftop is probably more likely to get you in trouble and cause even more time. Regardless, she hopped onto some loose bricks and began the climb onto the school building. She attracted some attention, but she refused to notice. Once she reached the top, she began a steady jog on the roofs of the square. It wasn't long before she circled the square, since beyond the square the gaps between buildings were much too big. She decided to rest leaning against the clock tower.

In the class they had learned about the old mayors. Some girls began swooning over the current mayor Marcus, to which Alyssa scoffed at. I mean, sure he's handsome and tall and stuff, but they're all immature. She shook her head in disappointment. She couldn't help agree with the statements about Marcus, however. After all, she could still imagine, right? She smirked to nobody in particular, and laid back to look at the sky, hands behind her head, awaiting for the bell to ring once more.

[User]
Marcus Bellamy

---

Michelle.

It was a name that hadn't crossed the mayor's mind in many years, not since well after leaving school and apprenticing with his father for many years. He and Michelle had grown up together, and were as close as any could be at the time, almost inseparable one could have said considering they were seen laughing and playing just about every waking day of their youth. The family contention however began to put strains on their relationship, as both sides seemed to show some kind of animosity toward the other's child, as though neither were good enough to be together, even as friends. As time passed, and adolescence kicked things into high gear for them both, they still promised to never grow apart, and slowly their relationship began to turn that much more intimate. But, it seemed the more they chose to be together forever, the more reality came in as a wild fire to consume and destroy.

Both were happy as one, but their families had other uses for them as mid-adolescence gave way to professions opening up, and long roads of study which kept them simply too busy to ever truly be together again. As children, they mused over the idea of running away to part of the world, to a place no one would ever find them, just to start over. But the end result was that time and distance began the slow descent of once happy memories, until thoughts of a better life together were nothing but a wisp of smoke to be carried away by the western winds.

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

"Mister Bellamy?"

The voice seemed so distant, as though it were miles away even, until his name was repeated again and pulled the man from his reverie, causing him to glance over at the doorway, and the little boy standing within its old wooden frame. The kid couldn't have been any more than eleven or twelve years old, a pup really, dressed in an earth-toned shirt and pants, ragged boots, and a round face covered in soot and dirt. There he was holding one of the largest hunting rifles seen in a long time. Probably modified from various assorted pieces and complete with a long, thin leaf-shaped bayonet blade firmly secured to the front. Marcus narrowed his eyes as he stared at the boy for a moment, unsure of what he was seeing, and the kid spoke again.

"There's been accident, sir." The kid's voice was dry, emotionless even, as he then pulled up the light brown shirt he was wearing to reveal a single bullet wound along the side of his torso, healed over and left only with a scar. A scar that seemed even more familiar than the man had expected.

"What happened, kid?" Marcus responded, his voice sounding echoed and hollow, as though trying to speak in a vacuum. He tried to rise up from the leather chair, but was unable; an unknown force holding him down with no give.

The boy lowered his shirt, concealing his scarred torso. "I killed him, sir." The boy's eyes welled up with tears as he continued. "In the woods, he came to get me, and-" He paused for a moment to wipe his watery eyes. "The roaches got to him, shot him in the head. If I hadn't been out on my own, none of this would have happened!" The boy broke down, unable to string the remaining words together, but instead, pulled a tarnished bowie knife from his belt sheath, and held it to his throat.

"Wait!" Marcus tried to push up from the chair, but every effort only caused the invisible chains that shackled him to tighten further. "What are you d-..."

It was too late as the kid's arm swiftly slid across his own throat, the blade slicing through cleanly, followed by the cascade of blood as the life quickly left the kid, his body crumpling to the dusty floor.

"Oh god NO!"

 Marcus cried out, his own voice echoing into the darkness as his body jerked forward from it's reclined position in the leather chair, and the eyes of the mayor opened up to an empty office. The man had fallen asleep -deeply- apparently and sweat rolled down his brow as he looked around the room, specifically at the doorway which lead out into the hall. No boy. No blood. Instinctively, however, the mayor stood to his feet, pulling his otherwise neatly tucked dress shirt out, and lifted it up to peer at the left side of his torso. There it was. The scar which would ever remind him of that failed night he'd lost his one and only uncle.

"Shit." The man breathed as he fixed his shirt, retucking it and adjusting the belt. "Where the hell did that come from?..."

[Assistant]
"Hmm, good question." Michelle leaned up against the doorframe, her hands crossed in front of her as she gave some thought to Astor's question. "If I remember correctly, trichinellosis is one of those nasty diseases that we can catch from wildlife, including wolves. It's actually quite fatal to humans, causing symptoms such as fever, stomach pains, swelling on the area around the eyes...I mean, you can only imagine it's pretty ugly stuff. The parasite is wedged deep in the muscle tissue, but if the meat itself is cooked thoroughly like you said, then you shouldn't have an issue. As far as any additional infectious diseases..." Michelle narrowed her eyes, momentarily looking past Astor to attempt to recall any similar cases, "I can't say with certainty whether my father has treated any patients for it, but I think you'll be alright."

Michelle then propped herself up, wiping her hands near the hem of her skirt. "Any special occasion for the meal you're preparing?" she teased with a smirk.

[User]
"None in particular." Astor said, his cheer having grown somewhat with the advice. He had nodded his understanding at Michelle's descriptions, thinking back to the butchering and realizing that he certainly hadn't seen any sign of parasites throughout the process, but he would still need to keep an eye on the cooking process.

"Wolves have been getting bold lately, so there's a bounty on them now. I just hate waste, and figured it'd be better to try a new meat rather than just letting it all rot. Besides, It would be a shame to get someone excited over a hot meal, only for the taste to be terrible or for them to get sick from it."

Shrugging as he considered it, Astor smiled again. "Tell you what - if you want to swing by the pub tonight, I'll save you a serving, and a few complimentary drinks if it ends up being disgusting anyway. But if it works out, we can call it a celebration for finding a new source of food."