[System]
Appearance:
Age: 233
Race: Argonian-Vampire
Items and gear: Vauldis usually carries a variety of poisons, several bottles of blood and a iron dagger
Abilities: Vauldis was a master of necromancy and an expert in destruction magic(specifically ice magic), however the years of inactivity has left him merely an adept in both. He is also adept in alchemy and sneaking.
Job: None, although when asked he claims to be a travelling alchemist
Bio: Vauldis was born in Cyrodiil shortly before the oblivion crisis.At a young age he was kidnapped by the wurm cult and raised as a necromancer. Shortly before the beginning of the oblivion crisis, he was transformed into a vampire and sealed deep in a catacomb in hopes that he could survive the crisis and restart the wurm cult in the future.
After awakening, Vauldis found his powers had shrunk substantially since his rest, living the shadows of modern Tamerial, he had rumours of an ancient vampire court in Skyrim. Wasting no time, he fed and moved as quickly as he could to the vampires. But on his way, he encountered the freshly destroyed town of Helgen. Seeing the potential to gain great influence and respect in Skyrim, he planned to assist the rebuilding efforts before finding the vampire court. After all, he had all the time in the world.
Other: Vauldis speaks more like an imperial than an argonian, besides the rasp his race naturally has, due to being raised in Cyrodiil
Pets: N/A

[User]
Casimer Demetrius-Kahn - Helgen

His brow furrowed deeper at the question. With a weary sigh, he shrugged his shoulders.

"No one's told me anything."

He peered out again towards Helena's, his features adapting a more thoughtful expression. "But Helena will know.". With that, the Imperial took a step back, allowing Illium access to his home. "And if you have the time, we can get that metal stacked over here" - one hand jerked to point in the direction of the small stack Illium had spotted earlier - "and then head down."

[Assistant] "Alright. Perhaps I shall check in the store. I suppose guarding the town is a worthy endeavor in light of attack here." Ardashir shrugged and padded his way over the the store, where he found Valrona and some others.

[User]
Wolfgang finished up blessing the temple and organizing the furnishings, which were for now just a bed for himself and some shrines since he had spent most of his money on the temple itself. He made a mental note that at some point seats would need to be added but until then those who entered would have to kneel to pray.

Wolfgang walked outside equipped in his full set of gear, the town was half destroyed of course but considering its state it was bustling with many people, even an argonian and a khajiit had made their way here. He walked up to two people talking "Hello brothers, I am Knight Protector Wolfgang Vestenheimer. I've recently built a temple here and it now serves as a headquarters for the The Knights of Aedra and Protectors of the Blessed" Deciding on the spot that was the name for the order which was a mash up of the two names he was considering "I invite you to come pray sometime soon, and if either of you are the fighting sort perhaps you would be inclined to join?"

@GrizzTheMauler

[Assistant] Cedus followed Ardashir to the general store. The Argonian had won his friendship. He was quite an interesting fellow, in his opinion. And most likely brilliant at fighting. "Would you like to go on an adventure soon?"

[User] Corinth chuckles. "I would be interested. The god I serve is Talos, like my father and the ones before him. No matter what the damn Thalmor have to say about it. I am Corinth Frozen-Hammer, I am currently the Captain of the Guard here in Helgen."

[Assistant]
Vauldis viewed the ruined town before him. He had noticed the wreckage the previous night, he had also noticed the group attempting to rebuild the town. This could be an opportunity to gain some renown in the province. And renown can attract admirers. Admirers can become servants. Or food.
Approaching the ruined town, he observed it from a closer distance. There were several buildings already being constructed, the necromancer noted the church with disdain I should burn that if I get the chance, who knows what trouble those Divine worshipers could cause for me.
As the argonian reached centre of the town he looked around where he noticed many of the townsfolk entering a store. He followed, grasping some of his concoctions from his robe as he did. Entering the building, he spoke with a somewhat weak and raspy voice "Does anybody require an old alchemists service? I noticed the activity around the town and thought you would appreciate any help you could get." Vauldis noticed the young argonian wearing hide armor, presuming he was a fighter, he revealed a red poison vial He added the last part of his sentence hesitantly, he knew little about his races traditions but he was sure they refer'd to each other in such a way.

[User]
@DriveEMOut

"An adventure? Sure. We can call it a hunt. If any of you need to find an excuse to go off to war, you can call it that." Ardashir flexed his clawed toes, a sign of enthusiasm for a trip among argonians. "And yes, I would appreciate any and all help I can get. I was thinking we could raid a ruin not too far from here. One of those old nordic barrows. Maybe do some actual hunting if we have time."

[Assistant] "Sounds good. Would you like to go now?" Cedus was shifting balance back and forth between his feet, bursting with anticipation. His sword and pack were strapped to him. He had several rations in his pack, as well as a canteen and a compass. He had been waiting for the right time, and now seemed to present itself as such.

[User] "I'm ready, so if you are, yes. I have my weapons on me. Got some magic too. If this goes well, maybe I'll buy a new longbow, or maybe get one from one of the enemies we're going to face." Ardashir opened the door and walked out of the building.

[Assistant] "Ah Talos? Interesting" Wolfgang said. Even before the Thalmor shoved their jackboots down the empires throat there had been intense theological debate in the ecclesiastical community and various holy orders on the divinity of Talos, with Wolfgang himself spending many hours debating and nights pondering the question. Eventually Wolfgang settled on the idea that while Talos was certainly not Aedra, he however managed fit into the category of God anyway, alongside Lorkan and Anu, and had earned the right to be worshipped. "Fear not, I'm no Thalmor agent, your Talos worship is fine with me. Speaking of which, welcome aboard. Come by the temple when it pleases you so you can be officially inducted"

[User] Cedus followed. "Let's go mate! Now, I'm thinking we could see if there's any bandits who've stolen metals that I could use for my work. Or money. So I could buy a workshop. Or weapons. So I could sell them for a workshop." He was already running down the road, before stopping. "Wait, which way again?"

[Assistant]
Corinth nods. "I will, once the men Siddgier sends me get here. Now I must take my leave, I have not slept since yesterday afternoon and I need rest. None guide you, friend." With that, Corinth heads back to the keep to get some much needed rest.

Off in the distance, voices can be heard coming from the south west. Soon, the familiar banner of Falkreath can be seen as a caravan with some guards enter. A courier runs through the town and enters the Inn.

"Afternoon, may I speak to the owner of the establishment?" The courier heads over to Helena.

Guards start heading towards the keep, talking amongst themselves as they lead the carts.

"I hope the place doesn't get attacked again..." One says.

"Aye..." Another nods.

[User]
@Evil gnome

The wolf proved very friendly, licking Felix's hand and wagging her tail, perhaps even more so than most dogs. She then walked away then came back immediately, dropping a ball of string at his feet.

"A ball of... string?" He murmured unconsciously. Is it a toy? Should I do something with it? He was confused, as he didn't have much experience dealing with pets. As the Khajiit and Valrona made a deal, he decided it would be best to simply pick it up and wait for the elf. Meanwhile he continued petting Yang absent-mindedly.

[Assistant]
Vauldis followed the two young men out of the building, still holding the vial of poison in his hand "Would you care to take these off my hands? I will accompany you, I have some uses outside of crafting potions" to prove his point, he fired a frost bolt from his free hand into the woods. "Or do you feel an old man such as myself would just drag you down? Take this poison either way" He said while offering the red vial to the argonian, his pale hands trembling slightly as he held the potion.

@DriveEMOut

[User] Helena was wiping down a counter when the courier entered and asked his question. "I am the owner. What did you need?" There seemed to be a commotion from outside as a group of people made their way across town. She doubted the courier needed any quartering or alcohol considering it seemed he was on official business.

[Assistant]
The courier has a note in his hand. "I was sent by the Jarl to hand this to the leader of this town. To let them know supplies and aid is on its way. Do you know whom that might be?"

The guards enter the keep and see Corinth snoring as he sleeps on the bed.

"Is that him?" One guard asks quietly.

"I'm not sure... He looks like the description..." A second answers.

"He looks like a strong warrior..." A third states.

Corinth grunts and sits up. "By Talos I'm trying to sleep here..." He rubs his eyes as he looks over. "Oh. You the guards Siddgier sent me? Hope you are ready to work. Names Corinth Frozen-Hammer, after when I had my Naming Day I killed a troll with a hammer. Now, Two of you set up patrols at the north gate. One at the South and East. And the rest put any supplies in the keep storeroom. You will find me a very accommodating man. But slack off and we'll have problems. Understood?"

The guards salute. "Yes, sir!"

Corinth nods. "Good. Get to work." He watches as the guards start moving, getting things done.

[User] Yang crouched down when he picked up the toy wagging her hips back and forth to show that she wanted to play. Valrona looked over to see Yang and she laughed softly. "She is trying to have you throw the ball. Don't worry Yang is careful around the shop. She won't knock anything over." She said to the other customer before looking back to the Khajiit.

[Assistant] "Well, there isn't exactly a delegated leader currently," Helena explained, "but I will get this taken care of as soon as possible." Now that she thought of it, they really hadn't decided a leader for the village or even for the reconstruction. Everyone just did what they needed to do in order to rebuild the city. Once the courier made his exit, Helena began informing anyone who entered her inn to meet back an your before dawn and to spread the word as soon as possible. Most people nodded and agreed, others gave some attitude. Either way as long as the word was spread, she was happy.

[User]
"Thanks for the poison. Not sure if I'll need it, but it always helps to be prepared." Ardashir placed it into a pocket, keeping the vial secure. He then turned to Cedus.

"This way. Follow me. We have to get out of Helgen and onto the main road, in the direction of Riverwood. Not that we're going all the way there, of course."

[Assistant] So it was a toy. It was quite obvious judging from the wolf's eager tail-wagging, but the master's confirmation made Felix smile with relief. He tossed the ball to the other side of the shop lightly. "There, Yang." It was his first time meeting a wolf that didn't want to kill him. Instead, she wanted to play with him. He found it very soothing, especially after his distance-wise short yet treacherous journey from Riverwood.

[User] Yang barked playfully and walked quickly over to where he tossed the string. She picked it up and walked it back over to the Khajiit. She dropped it at his feet and crouched down again playfully. She even panted softly showing how happy and eager she was. Yang always knew a way to make people happy even if her breed was known to be very mean. Her master trained her to be kind and compassionate unless it is someone Valrona does not trust.

[Assistant] Cedus dutifully followed, his pack bouncing on his shoulders. "This is gonna be amazing! We could get famous for this!"

[User] "You can keep the fame and glory. I'm here for the reward" Ardashir noted as they walked down the road. A soft rustling in the bushes heralded the advance of some wolves, and the argonian drew his sword in response.

[Assistant] Cedus nodded and grabbed his sword as well. It was beautifully crafted by Cedus' own hand. He was proud of it, and he cherished it the most of his belongings.

[User] Vauldis watched as the adventurers left the town for their adventure, after they were a fair distance away he turned back to the town and continued his investigation of it. As the necromancer searched the town, realizing there was little of interest in the town, he entered the store that seemed to be the meeting point for the survivors. Looking around at the people in the shop he spoke "Would any of you happen to have any use for an old alchemist? Perhaps you're feeling ill? Or perhaps you're potion stock is low?" He asked, directly addressing who he assumed to be the owner of the store.


[System]
Age:
32
Height:
5'4
Weight:
125 lbs
Race:
Human
Gender:
Female
Appearance:

Sexuality:
Heterosexual
Personality:
For the most part, Carolyn is a woman of few words. She's the type to observe as opposed to engage in conversation. Having such traits doesn't necessarily mean that Carolyn is anti-social as she enjoys spending time with friends and loved ones, but she's usually laconic compared to those around her. Being one who's learned to hold her tongue has given Carolyn the patience that other individuals lack.
Even though Carolyn is quiet and pensive, she's knows when to speak up. Carolyn won't stand for hate or injustice and is very bold to point out anything she may disagree with.
Biography:
Carolyn had a relatively normal childhood growing up. She was constantly warned about the dangers of interacting with "creatures" (as her mother always described them) and as a result, she was sheltered for the majority of the time she lived under the same roof as her parents. In school, Carolyn had a decent number of friends, but she only hung out with them occasionally as she preferred staying in and reading a good book to the alternative. Her interest in reading nearly anything she came across led her to excel in school, and as she became older, she won a scholarship at the local university to join the geography program.
Because her parents were always over-protective of their only daughter, Carolyn was constantly made to join various self-defense classes which progressively became more extreme as she got older. They also bought her a gun so she could learn how to shoot, and she actually enjoyed having control of such a small weapon that had the potential to do so much damage. Unbeknownst to her parents, Carolyn started dating someone in her mid twenties after she started her career as an environmental consultant. His name is Lucas Beaufont, and he's a vampire.
Faction/Side:
Torn between two sides.
Skills:
Carolyn's a hell of a shot with pistols. She also has some basic hand-to-hand and close quarters combat training under her belt.
Strengths:
ResilientCaringTrustful
Weaknesses:
Completely blind in her left eyeDoes not know where her loyalties lie and is susceptible to being manipulated
Likes:
MeditationExerciseBooksPoetic JusticeAnimalsHer job
Dislikes:
Liars, cheats, etc.Unnecessary dramaViolence towards the weakBeerCoffee
Other:
N/A

[User]
The thrill of hunting a few deer was wearing off. The content feeling of being full remained and allowed him to walk through the small town without contemplating eating any of them. He did this for every town he ended up in when the covenant requested him. The small town vibe was much more comfortable for him, but he tried not to get attached being the covenants wolf in sheeps clothing so to speak.

Vladimir continued to wander, finding himself enjoying the night when choas started. He took the opportunity to go into an alleyway where he could hide in the shadows. This might be considered a coward move, but he was listening. Absorbing information whilst waiting for the moment to strike. Pirate thinking taking over. Fighting fair being overrated.

A quick flare and inhale told him there was a large amount of vampires. The sounds told Vladimir that they were capturing the town people and blocking on the town. Being a rather small covenant base meant they wouldn't get much reward from this, but all wars tended to start small. Though pirates never cared for wars. He tilted his head before slowly leaving the alley.

His steps were silent, old yet well taken care of pirate boots making no noise. They clashed with the pack jeans and black shirt, but his boots were comfortable. Cool grey eyes seemed to hold a look of boredom as he went and stood in the center. "I'm guessing this is a revolution no?" his voice held no accent even though his Russian roots were strong.

Vladimir hadn't had a raised voice, but knew the vampires would hear him. Those close enough would smell him. Usually the younger ones did not know what that smell meant...think it meant strictly werewolf they would underestimate him. Being full also meant no chance of blood lust affecting any battle he would have in the next few moments.

A head tilt as he studied those closest. "And quite the interesting way to go about it. Military style instead of the usual monster style. I wonder whom the leader of this is?" He almost sounded like he was toying with them.

[Assistant]
Tristan gave a big yawn of boredom as he lounged on air. His perfect balance keeping him aloft in a sitting position while he watched his fellow vampires roam through the small town. Blocking entrances and exits, capturing humans, and even gunning for the Covenant outpost. "So he's finally making a move..." He murmured while his jacket fluttered in the mild breeze. Those crimson eyes were half-lidded as he watched, no real skill presenting itself down there. Guns, technology, vehicles, enough metal to make him scowl.

"What ever happened to being up close and personal. Watching the light fade from your enemies eyes, the fleeting emotions of the soon to be dead." He exclaimed, clearly not happy with how things were progressing. He had little honor but he still preferred melee combat to taking pot shots hundreds of feet away. There was no sport in it! It was like humans sniping lions and acting like it was a big triumph when they bagged the completely unawares animal. Because that's what humans were, animals with slightly higher brain functions.

Rolling his shoulders and crackling his neck, the ancient vampire seemingly vanished in a puff of smoke. A few puffs later and he was on the street slightly crouched as if landing from a high jump. Soldiers on one side of him, on the other side was what appeared to be a normal man with the whiff of lycan about him. Rising up he only looked at the man from the corner of his eye while the leather creaked from the movement. "I'd advise you to continue on your way, boy." He said. His voice is like the sound at the bottom of a well. Deep, rough, and lost. A single flick of his wrist and a long dull colored blade was in his hand, what was classed as a short sword. But to the giant towering over everyone, it was a dagger.

"Let the culling of humanity continue." He continued as he turned to the pirate booted lycan. The dull look vanished briefly from those crimson orbs. Revealing the desire for bloodshed, the primal urge of one from ages past to cause death. This was not a being made for the peaceful world and the weight of ages surrounded him. It seemed this was the only warning, something Tristan rarely did. But lycans deserved at least a warning, puppies need not be abused. Merely...disciplined.

[User]
@Kazemitsu

The appearance of a stranger, and then an ally. The vampiric soldiers immediately backed away from the duo, assault rifles aimed at them. It was clear these two were no small-fry, and these newbloods had been quite extensively informed how to handle these situations. While they kept their guns on the scene they had no intention of interfering unless necessary, and several of them retrieved walky-talkies to report the event. Other vampires would have heard it, but they continued in their tasks. An incident like this was no reason to halt the process, which needed to be performed with the greatest efficiency possible. People such as Tristan existed to take care of situations like this, and if this enemy was too dangerous for even Tristan then there was plenty of fire support nearby.

Having been made aware of the situation, Johnathan simply made another call. At a time like this the enemy's most powerful servants would begin arriving, the worthy ones. Those that rose above the status of canon fodder, and made a claim to glory. Rising stars reaching for the sky, those who did not know their true place. A perfect opportunity to test out his new servants. And as such another one of the Death Troopers had been dispatched to take care of the situation. Assuming Tristan himself didn't handle it before reinforcements arrived. That man was hard to tame, but a formidable servant. As long as he served Johnathan's ends, he would be allowed to continue his little Wild Card act. It was often a bad idea, after all, to try and teach an old vampire new tricks.

[Assistant]
"Deputy Reynolds, thanks for meeting me here." Carolyn walked up to the uniformed officer, shaking his hand as they exchanged pleasantries.

"No need to thank me, I'm just doing my job. You're the one on call," he pointed out.

Carolyn laughed. "Yeah, you're right. So anyway, these guys have hit the three-strike mark. I'm not even sure how many times we've warned them to follow proper dumping protocol before that, yet they've ignored us each and every single time." Carolyn motioned for Deputy Reynolds to follow her around to the side of the building. "That grass hasn't been green in I don't know how long, and as you may or may not know, discoloration is a sign of violation, especially since we have the paper trail. If you would be so kind as to draft a quick report for me, I can handle the rest of the paperwork so we can begin the termination process."

"No cease and desist letter?" he inquired, reaching into his back pocket to pull out a small notepad.

"We're beyond that," Carolyn added. She reached for her binder in her bag when Deputy Reynold's radio went off. He put a finger up and walked away from her to better hear the transmission. A moment later, he returned, his face an indicator that something big had occurred.

"Carolyn, you need to get out of here," he said to her, pointing to the back of the building.

"But what about—?"

"Go!"

Carolyn's heart suddenly started to beat quicker. Something this urgent only meant one thing...

Damn!

She dropped everything and took off for the clearing behind the building. Hopefully she would get home on time, if that was even an option given her distance.


[System]
Merchant

---

Level 3

-------STATISTICS-------

-------MASTERIES-------

| VIT -- 22 | 75% | BLADES -- E
| MGT -- 6 | 50% | POLEARMS -- D
| SKI -- 8 | 55% | AXES/BLUNT -- E
| SPD -- 9 | 55% | BOWS/RANGED -- C
| SRT -- 2 | 20% | THEURGY -- N/A
| MND -- 0 | 5% | MYSTICISM -- N/A
| LUK -- 5 | 40% |
Secondary Statistics

WGT -- ?
ACC -- ??
AVO -- ??
RES -- ??
CRT -- ??

---

Traits:

- MOUNTED: This unit rides their favored mount, gaining +2 MVT, while being subject to mounted weapon restrictions as well as being disadvantaged by certain weapons and skills. Similarly, a mounted unit may spend whatever MVT remains to reposition directly after attacking. A mounted unit may dismount at anytime. While mounted, a character may use the 'rescue' command to carry another unit to safety.
- CELERITY: Movement +2.

---

* Bronze Short Spear

	+ MIGHT | 3
	+ ACCURACY | 80
	+ WEIGHT | 3
	+ CONDITION | 24/30
	+ RANGE | 1
	+ SPECIAL | NA
	+ COST | 190

* Bronze Short Bow

	+ MIGHT | 2
	+ ACCURACY | 80
	+ WEIGHT | 2
	+ CONDITION | 18/30
	+ RANGE | 2
	+ SPECIAL | +5% Critical Rate, Cannot be used with shields
	+ COST | 275

* Bronze Sling

	+ MIGHT | 1
	+ ACCURACY | 85
	+ WEIGHT | 0
	+ CONDITION | 10/10
	+ RANGE | 2
	+ SPECIAL | NA
	+ COST | 60

* Bronze Crossbow

	+ MIGHT | 5
	+ ACCURACY | 90
	+ WEIGHT | 7
	+ CONDITION | 30/30
	+ RANGE | 2
	+ SPECIAL | NA
	+ COST | 470

Possessions: Vulnerary (1/3), 190 AU

Personality/Appearance
Zarif is a man of 22 years and 7 moons, standing just under 6 feet tall, and never seen far from his Camel, Salador. With skin paler than most and strange clothing, Zarif is one who attracts a passing interest in some, and a scornful look from others. Not accustomed to the lands of Akkad or their strange gods, Zarif tends to appear bit naive about its ways and customs, though this is often a ploy used to lower people's guards to his cunning. Still a salesman at heart, Zarif always does his best to strike a good deal.

Backstory
Born in the distant lands beyond the endless desert to the west, Zarif was raised to be a Merchant like his father, and took to it quickly. When he was old enough, his father bought him his own Camel, and Zarif quickly bonded with the animal, whom he named Salador, and has been inseparable ever since.

Having heard stories of a mythical "Golden Land" beyond the desert, with cities paved with gold, armies so large that drank rivers dry, and a king who was both a god and a giant, Zarif joined a merchant caravan to cross the seemingly endless desert. After many moons, with the lands they had been traveling to, with the destination almost within grasp, the caravan was set upon by raiders. Nearly dead and robbed blind, a mercenary company crossed paths with the bloody scene, and managed to save Zarif and Salador. Trapped in this strange land, and with no way to return home, Zarif joined the company, and has been with them for 3 years.

[User]
Zarif made light work of the yeek and Etor understood that they were in the thick of it.
Etor:I'll cover you.

Etor puffs his chest and makes way for the lone warrior yeek. Not breaking eye contact, Etor shows the warrior all the respect warriors show each other when on the battlefield. While Etor shares Ashur's contempt for the Yeek, at the end of the day the victor is whose ever better on that day, and that's something to be respected.

Etor marches to 14-24 and attacks the Yeek warrior #3 to for 7 damage.

[Assistant]
Lyun: "..." He rushes ahead much like his companions, a glance and a simple nod towards the incoming Ashür. Range wouldn't cut it for the time being, and having his more versatile axe at the ready looks like a better option.

He switches between the two with choppy movements while stomping ahead, eyes fixed on the nearby creatures. He knows their time has come, they know their time has come - or so he thinks, at least. It's just a matter of whether they'll be chased for or charge into.

Lyun moves six tiles to 19-28 and equips his Battle Axe.

[User]
Continuing his charge, Siris prepares himself mentally to face his foes, giving a short yet confident laugh to be heard by both allies and enemies alike

Siris moves 6 tiles to 16-27

[Assistant]
Zarif readied his spear as the blue Yeek warrior charged forward at him, with an animistic rage. Perhaps they weren't as cunning as he had made them out to be after all. The merchant relaxed, he had done this plenty of times in his tour with the Hellions, from such a foe, he really didn't have anything to fear.

Suddenly, the foul creature was upon him, mere cubits away! Zarif, aghast, tried to bring his spear up in his own defense, but it was too late. His off hand felt his chest, wet and sticky with his own blood, the gnarled branch buried deep in his chest. It had all been so fast... there had to be some mistake.

Zarif:"N-no... How? To have traveled so far... only to die like this... dammit." He could feel himself sliding off Salador's back, falling slowly, as time itself had slowed until...

Zarif's eyes blinked open, he glanced around suddenly, confused. There was that foul creature again, still many paces away. He felt his chest, it was somehow intact. The merchant sighed and shook his head.

Zarif:"Must have dozed off again. What an unsettling daydream! Ah, what are the odds of something as far fetched as that anyway" The happy go lucky foreigner chuckled to himself, following the Yeek as it waddled forward, readying his spear. When it reached him, zarif was ready, and caved its skull in with two swift strikes. It's spear, a branch really, managed cut his Zarif's leg as it fell, but other than a little pain, the rider was mostly alright.

Zarif:"Better keep up the assult!" He told himself, the burning pain in his leg managing mostly to sharpen his scenes and wake him up a little. He strapped the spear to Salador's side as he kicked his companion lightly, and began to ride along the side of the wall, drawing his bow. After sending an arrow over the wall, he circles back, hoping to regroup with the rest of the company.

Zarif moves Seven tiles to 18-26, attacks Blue Yeek #1 with his short bow, and rides 3 tiles back to 15-26


[System]
24
The daughter of Commander Isaak Belikov of Ardany and a brothel whore. She ran away at 13, after being raped by her eldest brother. She learned how to defend herself, and now she's a warrior. Some who know her name might call her a Lady, almost a princess. Those who know only her reputation might call her a ruthless killer. She stalks the dark places of the earth for murderers and rapists, taking their lives in a sick sort of justice-driven rampage. Though no one knows her face, she's often called Death's Handmaid or the Fourth Devil. And more recently, the Wolf Maiden, due to the snarling wolf mask she wears when hunting.

[User]
Aleksandra was a bit surprised and even somewhat relieved that Aulfr stopped the kiss when he did. She wasn't embarrassed, but maybe she needed that emotion to keep her in check. After all, being so free was just a bit too nice. She couldn't rush herself or Aulfr or she'd end up ruining things. She didn't want to do something she'd regret and then associate that with a bad experience.

Still she couldn't stop herself from smiling sweetly, almost happily down at Aulfr. "Good morning. A very good morning indeed." Realizing that she was probably causing him some discomfort in his lower anatomy, she scooted forward a bit, to just above his hips. "You know, this might be your fault. You're too pretty," she said breezily.

"And you also stripped me nearly naked! Who said you could do that? Not me, certainly. And then you're also nearly naked..." She looked him up and down and made some ghastly noise of approval that she'd never made before. It sounded like a purr. "Not that I really mind. Hmm, you shouldn't ever wear a shirt. Saints, it should be a crime." She pressed her hands to his chest and stomach, feeling every breath he took and the pounding of his heart. That last bit made her lips twitch into some faint sort of smile.

At this point, she was just having fun with him. She never had this sort of effect on anyone. Mostly because she'd always been grim and quiet and pointing sharp things at anyone who glanced at her the wrong way. And here she was, straddling a man with a grin on her face, watching how utterly she disturbed him. It was the most fun she'd had in years.

[Assistant]
Aulfr felt shivers run through him, and not because he was cold or because he was afraid. No, it was because Aleksandra was being... exciting. He didn't know whether or not this was a good or bad thing, especially with her teasing of him. And, regardless, her sitting on him wasn't exactly giving him a... calming effect. Especially in such a way, when clothed like so, and so obviously enjoying it.

His heart pounded, and another shiver at her purr. She could purr? He didn't know that, and he liked the sound of it too much for his own good. But instead of letting her see him shiver, see him want to just stare at her forever, among other things, he took the initiative.

So he gave her a wicked grin, and replied, "Aye, I am fairly pretty indeed. And besides, you look much better now than you did before. It'd be just as much of a crime for me to wear a shirt as it would be for you, you know. After all, you have significantly more... assets, than I, don'tcha think?"

He sat up, suddenly, embracing her with his arms, leaning his forehead against hers in a surprisingly intimate gesture.

"You and I, Aleksandra, you and I. We'll take on the world."

[User]
Aleksandra grinned back at Aulfr and readied a witty reply to continue their banter, but he gathered her in his arms before she could say anything. She automatically snaked her arms around his broad shoulders and closed her eyes, assuming he was going to kiss her. But then their foreheads touched and he said those quiet words. And she very suddenly felt like crying. Not out of fear. She was just happy. Elated, in fact. The sweet feeling in her chest swelled until she felt like she was going to melt into a teary mess right in his arms.

She couldn't stop one tear from escaping, but she didn't think Aulfr saw it. Gently, without moving her head from that intimate little touch, she reached up and slowly raked her fingers through his hair. Then over his ears and down his neck. Across his shoulders, down his arms and back and then up his stomach and chest. She ended her light caress on his cheeks, with her thumbs placed at the corners of his mouth. Then she leaned in and kissed him.

Finally, she had to pull away and climb from his lap. She had to get her emotions in check; if she started crying now, she'd never be able to live it down. She carefully turned her face away and wiped her cheeks, feeling the wetness there. No more tears, she told herself. She didn't need them. "You'll take on the world, Aulfr. And I'll be there to help you along the way. But it's all yours." She picked up one of his discarded shirts, gave it a cursory sniff, and pulled it on over her shift and underthings. She knew she probably wouldn't be leaving their chambers, so there was no reason to really get dressed.

Besides, she sort of enjoyed moving around the room, the hem of the shirt fluttering and giving teasing little glimpses at her rear.

She went to the door, motioned to a nearby servant (who looked very surprised and uncomfortable to see her wearing almost nothing but the prince's shirt), and ordered breakfast for her and Aulfr. Then she turned back and sat in front of the small dressing area and the mirror there as she brushed and wrangled her crazy black waves into something less wild.

"Whatever you were saying before about assets was nonsense. You can see how women drool whenever you're near them. Can you imagine how one of those simpering little posies would react to seeing you in such a state of undress?" She snorted at the thought. And then felt a disturbing flash of jealously. She didn't really enjoy that feeling. It felt... slimy.

[Assistant]
Aulfr could admit to himself that he could get used to having someone's hands roaming over him, like how Aleksandra was doing. He reluctantly allowed her to get off of him, but relaxed back into his bed to watch her bend over to throw on one of his shirts. Thoughts meandered through his mind, such as why she was so teasing and flirty at times, despite what he knew to be her past. And he pointedly ignored her refusal of being his partner, and instead his helper and nothing more.

"You know, they'd probably attack me. Noxans are aggressive compared to you Ardians," he explained, intentionally mispronouncing her nation's people, "And generally try to get what they want. The only reason why one of them hasn't tried to kill you yet is because you showed that you could beat the crap out of the biggest Noxan Jarl."

Then he gave her a wicked smile.

"Besides, I don't think they have as many assets as you do."

Finally, he decided to roll out of his bed, immediately deciding to stretch. As usual, the world fell away as he closed his eyes and stretched luxuriously, rolling arms and leaning back, popping shoulders, elbows, and back.

Then, dropping limbs limply at his sides, he admired Aleksandra again, catching her staring. Again- the wicked grin, but he didn't do anything on it.

"Speaking of assets, the time I'm taking over is coming up pretty soon. I'm going to need more agents, you know- more assassins like you. If you would, I can allocate resources and a section of the castle to you, to train several maids to be my spies and assassins." The way he said it was almost a suggestion, or request- but based on who he is, and how ambitious he is, it's probably obvious that it's more of an order.

[User]
Still grooming herself, she watched Aulfr out of the corner of her eye as he stood and stretched. She'd watched him before, even without a shirt on once or twice. It felt different this time. Watching the muscles shifting sinuously under his skin, which she knew was warm and soft except for the lovely rough contrast of his scars... She made that purring sound again, and she realized when he grinned at her that she'd turned around to watch him. She whipped back around, but he could probably see the flush in her cheeks through the mirror.

"Who says I'm not aggressive? I've never had the chance to find out what kind of person I am when it comes to..." Well now, how to put it? Everything she thought of made her blush. "When it comes to sex," she finished lamely. She hurried on, covering her gaffe with more conversation. "I could be completely wild. Or I could be as shy as a butterfly." She set down the brush and started braiding back the hair the framed her face, securing the braids behind her head so none of her hair could get in the way.

"As for the maids thing, aren't you at all concerned that I might teach them too well and they'll try to kill you? Or are there just certain things you want me to show them how to do?" But she was already pondering what she'd have to do. The best spies were women. Women were usually more diplomatic, less conspicuous. People underestimated them, so they were less likely to hold back information in the presence of one. She'd need several of the smaller women in the castle. And it would take months to teach them to be any sort of decent at combat. But until then, she could teach them all the ways to loosen someone's tongue. How to hide in the dark and the shadows so even the most alert wouldn't be able to spot them. The idea was appealing.

"I might run into a problem. Women in this country aren't really encouraged to do more than cook and procreate. They won't feel confident in their own abilities. They won't feel as if they have the right to be taught all of this."

[Assistant]
Aulfr just smirked at her and her embarrassment. He briefly considered teasing her, as she sometimes did to him; he had an excellent idea on how to. And she was, after all, wearing his shirt. He could just take it back, after all. After several moments of increasingly vivid daydreaming, he realized what he was doing and blinked himself out of it, and focused on Aleksandra's awkwardness.

So he just grunted his bemused agreement, and stepped up next to her, facing the table rather than mirror. He listened, patiently, as she described her worry, about the maids. In the meantime, he picked up the khopesh and flipped it this way and that; now that he had some actual interest, whatwith someone else knowing about it, he could get the idea of how to use it.

"Hmmm... well, that's your advantage, for one. Most of the maids are relatively young, and we do teach them more than you think. You're still a bit of an outsider- most maids know how to use a knife, and know a good bit about cooking, healing, et cetera. You'd be surprised; they teach themselves all kinds of things in their free time, and we don't bother to stop them. But that's true; they've been led to believe that. Which would make them all the more potent; teach them how to act, how to fake, how to sneak, how to be confident. I might even let you beat me as a display for them."

Whirling around the khopesh with the practiced ease of a master swordsmen, he narrowly missed her as he swung about, precise and knowing of where he was swinging.

After a moment, he straightened, and mimed sheathing it, with a flourish, flashing a grin at her.

"You can start after the next feast. I'll have a dozen maids picked out by then, and I'll throw in a couple boys who've been itching to learn how to fight. Some male assassins wouldn't be unwelcome, for intimidation. It'd take a while for a women to really intimidate a man, see, they'd have to start with some examples. Your girls can assassinate, and my boys can do the info-gettin', where rougher measures are needed."

He held out his off hand, for a handshake.

"Train me some assassins, and you'll get the Noxan throne to support you, eh? I might even make you the Royal Assassin," he added, as if she wasn't already- and he knew it.

[User]
Aleksandra watched him with new eyes. Watched the way he smiled for her, the way his hair fell into his eyes and the way his muscles shifted with every graceful move he made. She watched him the way any woman would watch the man she loved. And that was what it was, right? She loved him. She loved Aulfr Volsung in a way she had never loved anyone else. The only person she'd ever loved more was her father. Or her horse.

She found she was smiling back at him, and she rose to her feet when he extended his hand to her. She took his hand, but instead of shaking it she pulled him in for a hug, placing his hand solidly on her lower back. She wrapped her arms around him tightly and closed her eyes, giving a soft sigh as his warmth enveloped her. She was going to say it to him. The three words. It wasn't hard and she knew it. She was just afraid. And she'd done so many things she was afraid of with him.

She rose up onto her tiptoes and pulled him down, and even then she didn't reach his ear. That was okay. She settled for trailing a gentle line of kisses along his collarbone until she could hear him sigh. That one noise alone made her smile. She could make him do that. And more, once she could past her fear. She was looking forward to every sigh, every growl, every laugh. They were all hers. She stretched up and pulled him down even farther and just barely managed to kiss him. Then she let go.

She turned away and gently pulled the khopesh away, making it clear that she was going to show him something important. She started working slowly through a few moves so he could watch, and continued talking all the while. "It might also be a good idea to employ a whore to teach some of the more willing women how to seduce men. I love you," she mumbled, "It could be a useful skill to have, especially for loosening a drunken man's tongue. Plenty of pretty maids in this castle," she continued, mostly hoping he hadn't heard her. That had been a bad idea.


[System]
Age: 17

Race: Demon Weapon

Appearance:

[User]
Tsubaki crouched down next to her partner, Blaze. They were a strange pairing the two of the them, what with them both being Weapons. But that's just how things worked out. Tsubaki liked her partner well enough, and their soul wavelengths resonated just fine. She had heard the rumors about him, but she didn't really care. Everybody had things in their past that they liked to keep secret. But now was not the time to be worrying about any of that, not when they had a target to take down. Don Al Capone and his top men were below them, feasting on human souls. "I count about a hundred." That was enough for one of them to be one Witches' soul away from becoming a Death Weapon.

Or they could split the souls between the two of them. Personally Tsubaki liked that idea better, but they'd have to think about that later. "What do you think? Should we try and take him out from here, or go down there?" Tsubaki said, making sure she asked her partner's opinion and didn't just try and take charge. They were a team after all, they were supposed to work together. Tsubaki was nervous. This was a lot of Keishans to take out at once. Their target was just Don Al Capone, but Tsubaki doubted they'd be able to take him out without anyone else noticing. Even if they just sniped him from their hiding spot.

[Assistant]
Blaze thought for a moment. "We can divvy them up," he murmured. "But there's always the possibility of being killed by those goons. I do have an idea. It would be risky, but we could get Capone, get his Soul, and beat a hasty retreat." He wasn't used to being in the Meister position.

"If that's what we do," Blaze said, "you get the Soul. And I get the next ooo--!!" The ventilation shaft suddenly lurched, unceremoniously dumping the two on the table. "Ugh. Damn building inspector shoulda--"

"Who the hell're you?!" the Don roared. Blaze had an expression befitting someone caught in bed with their ex's mother. Without waiting, Capone ordered, "Ice 'em!"

[User]
Tsubaki nodded when Blaze suggested they do it assassin style, take out Don Capone and get out of there. "I have a smoke bomb mode that will be useful for that." She explained, knowing her partner must not have been familiar with all her modes yet. Tsubaki was about to protest and suggest that Blaze take the first Soul, because that's just how she was, when suddenly the ventilation shaft shifted, sending them forward. Tsubaki had ninja training and excellent reflexes, she was about to jump back and avoid falling, when she noticed her partner was not. Fearing for his life if he was left alone, Tsubaki let herself fall.

Tsubaki winced when she hit the middle of the table, landing uncomfortably with dishes digging into her back. She gasped when Don ordered them killed, and the goons pulled out guns. Once again, because of her ninja training, she would have been able to escape, but she had Blaze to worry about too. Reacting quickly as bullets started to fly, she shoved Blaze off to the side and out of the path of the bullets, wincing as one grazed her upper right arm. It was only a minor injury, but it still hurt.

"Remember that thing I was talking about earlier?" She asked, referring to her smoke bomb mode. There was a flash of yellow light as Tsubaki transformed, when the light cleared there was a smoke bomb in her place. Tsubaki didn't like smoke bomb mode that much, it always made her feel weird afterwards. Apparently that was normal for that type of weapon, but that didn't mean she had to like it. Hopefully Blaze could move fast enough for the smoke bomb to give them enough time to escape. Right now, Tsubaki was putting her life in her partner's hands.

[Assistant]
Blaze felt a bullet whizz through his hair. "Crap!" he exclaimed. It was a good thing that these goons were crappy at shooting. He grabbed Tsubaki and threw her down, and the two were envelopes by smoke. He grabbed his partner and escaped in the ensuing chaos.

"Dammit," he growled. The two had made it to the docks of the city. "You'd think a filthy rich bastard like him would hire an inspector who does his job." He examined Tsubaki's wound, taking a handkerchief from his pocket and tying it around her arm to stop the bleeding. "Lord Death ain't gonna be happy..."

[User]
As soon as she was thrown down and the smoke burst out, Tsubaki transformed back to her human self. Considering how she felt afterwards, she was glad when Blaze grabbed her arm and started to run, it forced her to keep up with him. It only took her less than a minute for her to recover from her daze and soon she was running beside him with no problem, ignoring the injury on her arm. Finally they stopped running when they were well away from the manor, ending up at the docks. She was slightly winded by the run, but it didn't take her long to get her breath back.

Tsubaki pressed a hand against her graze in order to stop the bleeding, but moved it when Blaze took out a handkerchief. As her partner wrapped it around her arm, he also got angry at the circumstances of their now failed mission. "Hey, it's okay." She said with a smile, ever the peacekeeper. "Everybody fails sometimes. We just had a little bit of bad luck is all. For now let's just go back and report to Lord Death and see what he has to say about it." Tsubaki didn't think that Lord Death would be too mad, they were still new to being partners after all, they were bound to fail a few times while they adjusted to the partnership.

In reality, they should have taken an easier mission. It was both of their faults for that. Blaze for picking it out, and Tsubaki for not stopping him. She hadn't expected there to be that many goons there, but there had been so there wasn't much either of them could do about it now. All they could do was move forward. After reporting to Lord Death, they could either try again and catch Don Al Capone without his goons, or leave the mission to some more experienced team.

[Assistant]
"Yeah," said Blaze. "I'm just not used to acting as a Meister." He checked his reflection in a window. He was miffed about the now-shortened patch of hair, but he would live. However, what he was most upset about was the bullet hole in his jacket. He fogged up the window.

"Forty-two, forty-two, nine sixty-four..." Blaze tapped the glass. Soon the Grim Reaper had appeared. "Hello, Lord Death. Weapon-Meister Blaze reporting."

"Oh, it's good to see ya!" Lord Death said. "So, have you collected the Souls?" Blaze hung his head.

"No, sir..."

[User]
Tsubaki just offered Blaze another smile. Though she was curious as to what he meant by not used to acting as Meister. Maybe it had to do with the rumors? Because she wasn't used to acting as Weapon either, mostly cause Blaze was her first, and hopefully only, partner. Tsubaki stood nearby as Blaze called Lord Death. Ready to explain the situation to him. She was sure he'd notice the handkerchief around her arm, but it really wasn't anything to worry about.

Tsubaki gave Lord Death a wave when he popped up on the window and greeted them. When Blaze looked all defeated, Tsubaki took over explaining. "We went to the manor where Don Al Capone lives and snuck in through the ventilation shaft. Only when we found him, he had about a hundred of his men with him. It was a little too much for us to handle, so we retreated." She purposefully left out the part where they fell onto the table and got shot at. She didn't mind telling Lord Death, but she wanted to save Blaze some dignity. He seemed like the prideful type who would be embarrassed because of that.

"It may be too much for us to handle. We haven't decided yet whether we're going to move on to another mission and leave this one for a more experienced team, or if we're going to try again." Tsubaki would never say it out loud, but she was pretty sure Lord Death wouldn't scold them too badly. Not after Maka and Soul's recent failure finding a Witch's Soul. Though he may be annoyed by the recent failures, they were still just teenagers, you couldn't blame them too badly.

[Assistant]
"I see," said Death. He thought for a moment. "There could be a way to make one of you into a Death Scythe right away." Blaze cocked an eyebrow. "I see I have your attention."

"Yes sir."

"Good. As you may have covered in your classes, Blaze, some Souls are more powerful than others, and are equivalent to multiple normal Souls."

"I do remember those lessons, Lord Death," said Blaze. He was listening intently.

"The owner of one of these Strong Souls has become the guardian of a witch named Angela. This particular individual is Mifune, a renowned swordsman. His particular Soul is equivalent to 99 Kishin Eggs."

"So, assuming we succeed," said Blaze, "we could make one of us a Death Scythe in one go!" His eyes shown with excitement.

[User]
Tsubaki didn't like the idea of being able to make one of them a Death Weapon in one go. Because then they'd argue about it and fight over who got to be the Death Weapon. She really didn't want to fight with her partner over things. They were supposed to work together, and that's what she was trying to do. But now both Lord Death and Blaze were sort of leaving her out of the conversation. It was a little annoying actually. Sure she was quiet and peaceful, but she didn't like to be pushed aside. No one did. But instead of pushing her way in, she just stayed quiet. Fiddling with her long, dark, locks, as she did.

A human with a Strong Soul and a Witch in one place? It would be dangerous, but if they pulled it off, one of them could be a Death Weapon. Personally, Tsubaki wanted to leave the mission for Maka and Soul. They had just failed their Witch hunt and lost all 99 of their souls. They could use a chance like this. A soft sigh escaped her lips. Her partner looked really excited about the whole thing. It was pretty obvious who he wanted to become a Death Weapon. Maybe she should just go along with it and let him? Her wavelengths were really adaptable. She could partner with just about anyone.

Involuntary tears sprang into her eyes as she thought about Blaze becoming a Death Weapon and just leaving her. She quickly scrubbed them away and put a fake smile on her face. "It sounds like a good idea." She said, sounding convincingly excited. She had been faking happy since she was little, only those who knew her really well could tell when she was faking it. Blaze was not one of those people yet. And if they accepted this and beat it, probably never would be.

[Assistant]
"Then it's settled!" said Lord Death, clapping his hands together in delight. "I'll have that mission taken down from the board, ya?" And then the Shinigami was gone. Blaze stretched.

"It's been a long day, huh, Tsubaki," he said. Despite their failure, he was in a good mood. Normally he'd have taken it harder, but the Strong Soul and Witch had brightened his night. "I just wish that it was a shorter trip back to Death City. Ah well. We can find the Witch once we're rested up."

Despite having to reach up-- Tsubaki was a full head taller than him-- he patted his partner's head affectionately. "Those Souls're ours. I'm gonna make you into a Death Scythe, if it's the last thing I do." He flashed a tired grin. "I just need some no-bean caffeine for the ride home."

=======

It took several hours to get back to Death City. By then, Blaze was tired, but the energy drink he'd guzzled wouldn't allow him to rest just yet. He parked his jeep outside his apartment complex. He affectionately dubbed the vehicle the Puma. He sighed. "Home sweet home."

Blaze's apartment was paid for by Sid, his legal guardian, at least until Blaze could get a real job. It was a two-bedroom. The other room used to be Izumi's, but now Blaze had filed paperwork to let Tsubaki move in from the dorms.

[User]
While Blaze was excited and didn't seem to be affected by their earlier failure anymore, Tsubaki was feeling worse after hearing the news. It didn't matter who the souls if they beat this mission, either way it felt like Blaze wanted to get rid of her as quickly as possible. Tsubaki let out a quiet sigh, hoping that her partner didn't notice. She managed a weak smile when Blaze reached up to pat her head, but it was one that was much easier to see through that the last one had been. Thankfully though, Blaze didn't seem to notice a thing. When her partner mentioned getting an energy drink, she didn't agree with it, but went along anyway. If he drank one now, he'd never sleep tonight.

Tsubaki stayed turned away from Blaze the entire ride back to Death City, pretending like she was staring out the window. But in reality, she was trying not to let him see that she was unhappy. If he was happy about the whole thing, she would just let him be happy. Just like she had done with her brother all those years ago. She'd say she wanted to play ball, while she really wanted to play house. While she was a bit tired, and the graze on her arm stung a little bit, she didn't sleep in the car. It didn't seem fair to fall asleep when Blaze couldn't and he was just as tired, if not more so.

Finally they arrived at the apartments, where Tsubaki would now be staying. She had packed up her dorm this morning before they had gone out for their mission. One of the teachers, Sid, who was apparently Blaze's legal guardian, was kind enough to move her stuff over while they did their work. So when they got up there, they should find her stuff in the apartment somewhere. If not she'd just have to go get it. She wouldn't be mad at Sid if that happened though. He wasn't obligated to do it, and teachers were busy after all. "Right..." Was all she said to Blaze's comment of home sweet home.

Tsubaki got out of the jeep and stretched her sore muscles. As part of her ninja training, she had pretty much walked everywhere her entire life. Even if it was several hours away by car like this had been. She wasn't used to sitting in a vehicle for long periods of time like that. She most certainly couldn't drive a car either. Maybe it would be a good thing to learn? But to honest she wasn't that interested in learning it.


[System]
Appearance: Height: 5"6
Cyano is of an average height and has light blue, short straight hair that covers the sides of her face, but never goes over her eyes or ears. She wears a red headband to contrast with the blue of her hair. The headband flows out behind her hair, where the knot is. She is fairly pale, owing to her not getting out very much. She has brown eyes. Her clothing is very professional looking, consisting of a black long sleeved shirt, underneath a brown vest. She wears a pair of black dress pants. Though they are meant to be only for professional usage, it became too much of a hassle to change, and she began to wear them full time. Even to sleep. On her wrist she wears a small bracelet her daughter made her. Around her waist she wears a belt that holds, a multi purpose energy weapon, a ballistic six shooter of her own design, a knife, and a sword(the materials will be discussed in abilities and special items) For shoes she wears a pair of brown boots made for mountain climbing, even though she doesnt climb an mountains.

Personality: Cyano is, for the most part a very cold person. She has no regard for life, unless it is hers or her duaghters. She can be cruel. If she is fighting a person much weaker then her, she will end it quickly. But those equal to her, she likes to take her time on. Drawing out their suffering until she eventually kills them. That being said, she is smart enough to keep it at a reasonable amount of time. From her own experiences in her universe, her belief is that if the people she kills wanted to be alive, they would just drag themselves out of where ever they went when they died. Unbeknownst to her, this method doesnt really work except in a very few parts of the multiverse. She is very level headed, but can fly into a sort of serene fury when called out by someone she considers inferior to her. When it comes to her daughter, she is a very caring mother. She is also very intelligent, though oddly, this causes her to overestimate, rather then underestimate her opponents. finally, the fact that in her universe she can simply drag herself back to life, has left her very lazy. And why wouldn't she be? What's the hurry when your effectively immortal.

Bio:(i shall only focus on how she got here, as the whole bio is very long)

Cyano Conablum was the owner of Rivard labs and head of Conablum industries. A research lab and Android body manufacturer respectively, under the name of Rease Arch. Her own custom android.*1. Rivard labs was the leading research lab, with huge advancements in medicine, genetics, weaponry, and travel. Specifically instant travel. Cyano herself personally oversaw the production of the first Multiversal transporter. This first one however was only able to move between her own universe. and a universe she coined as the "dead land" due to the fact that those that died in her universe were sent there. She herself was later killed, and ended up there. During this time she found that while death elsewhere was temporary, death in the dead land was permanent. She also found that time moved, or at least seemed to move, faster then in her universe. These discoveries caused her to become quite cynical, and in fact led her to have a greater disregard for life. It also gave her a greater curiosity about multiversal travel. This led to the development of the linear transporter, which allowed for linear travel along one plane, or, the ability to travel forward and back between universes, rather then those connected to the universe traveled from.*2.

Abilities:

Natural abilities.

Intelligence: Generally considered Cyano's most valuable asset. Cyano is able to quickly come up with a resolution to a situation or problem. Her intelligence and strength of mind also allows for some protection against psychic attack.(The Uber Ethereal would be stronger then her mind alone however)

Strength: Cyano is incredibly strong naturally. She is able to lift a weight up to 300 pounds easily, and starts to become strained at 350 pounds. She is able to knock a rather large person back with a strong punch, and can even breakthrough weaker materials like wood or stone, and can break through weak or thin metal walls and doors. though reinforced or thicker walls and doors she wouldn't be able to.

Speed: Cyano is very fast. Though not the fastest of her family, she can naturally run a 5 minute mile.

Endurance: Cyano happens to be rather durable, though not invincible. She can walk off lighter injuries, and broken bones supposing on which bone is broken. A broken knee or leg would stop her, but ribs, arms, and the like she can pull through and find other ways to attack. That being said, breaking a combination of legs and arms, would leave her vulnerable.

Accuracy: This one should not need to be explained. Cyano is a bit of a sharpshooter. Though only with lighter guns. Nowhere near sniper levels of accuracy though

End of natural abilities
Special items and abilities associated

Nanomites: An outdated tech in Cyano's universe. As newer items were developed, and became EMP shielded to the point of EMP being innefective, nanomites started a weird period where they were both inferior to current tech, but also had no counters. Cyano's nanomites are vulnerable to extremely high heat, and EMP blasts. The nanomites are able to augment her natural abilities. Giving her greater strength, more durability, and are able to make her faster. Or they can give her greater resistance to psychic attacks, at the cost that her natural abilities are not augmented when she is shielding herself.

Saber Cloth: Saber cloth, named after its creator and her brother, is a cloth nigh invulnerable to light and energy based attacks, and cannot be pierced. However, the force behind a physical hit will still effect her.

Multi weapon: A weapon(running on hollywood cold fusion energy) that is capable of turning into an energy based pistol, dagger, or sword.

Arch six shooter: A sixshooter of her own design, it is capable of firing anything from a larger pebble to a .38 caliber bullet. It is mostly used as back up should she be unable to use anything else and her nanomites have been disabled.

Sword and knife:

Used for close combat and stealth respectively, they are also made out of Saber Cloth, though hardened and sharpened. They would phase right through a lightsaber.

*1: In Cyanos universe, androids are like computers. It is just as common to see people mind riding them as it is to see someone holding a phone in our universe.

[User]
[Switzerland, Bern]
With a flash of light and a loud pop, suddenly, Agatha Heterodyne popped into existence. She dropped to the floor, small bits of metal falling to the ground around her. For a moment she simply sat there, looking dazed. "Well, that just happened. I suppose messing with the stabilizers on the muse of time WAS a bit impulsive...." Sighing she gets up, looking around at what appeared to be the remains of a base of some kind. The scene was dominated by a large loop which appeared to be a portal of some kind, similar to the system that had been used to abduct her at the end of the war for Mechanicsburg. Smiling brightly, she pulled out her wrench. It seemed that, even moved across time and space, lady luck had not left her unattended. If she could just apply some modifications, this thing might be able to return her to her home with relatively little harm done, maybe even in time to stop the world from ending.

Of course, little did she know Apocalypse had similar goals in mind. And as the immense monster burst through a nearby skyscraper, she instantly fired her Death Ray at it. Of course, the creature dodged the attack with ease, her mere human reflexes far from fast enough to be able to catch him. The skyscraper disintegrated behind him, even as he appeared to materialize in front of her.

"You.... you are a genius, yes? I can tell, I was birthed from the work of geniuses." Apocalypse glared down at Agatha, his imposing figure doing the intimidation for him. He was well aware that he would not be able to operate the teleporter by himself, and as such Agatha's presence would make things easier.

Agatha, meanwhile, was trying to figure out how this thing had moved so fast. Not even the Jaegermonsters could move like that. It also seemed her Death Ray would be useless against this thing. "Ummm..... yes? Which answer prevents you from killing me?" She was a practical girl, and she'd need to buy some time if she wanted to get out of here. She still wasn't aware of where she was, nor whom's territory she appeared to be in. She wasn't even sure if she was in the Wulfenbach Empire any more.

Apocalypse grinned, as his suspicions were confirmed. "Then you will repair the portal generator, and you will move me to where I wish to go. If you fail to do this, I'll rip you to pieces, and find another to do the job for me."

Both Apocalypse and Agatha were well aware that she would not be so easy to replace, considering that the amount of people that matched her intellect could be counted on one hand, without fingers. But they were both equally aware that Apocalypse would kill her anyway, as it's sense of priorities weren't the greatest. This caused Agatha to refrain from commenting, her normally snarky nature suppressed for the sake of her continued survival. "Yeah, sure. Rebuild one of the least understood technologies on the world and transport you to whereever you want to go. I'm on it."

With that said, Agatha was distracted by the portal itself. As she opened up the outer surface of the portal, she was skeptical as to what she would find within. And yet, as she looked through the wires and hardware, she began to see a pattern. A beautiful, beautiful pattern. A smile came to her face, as she started ripping out and replacing things. "Oh, this is WONDERFUL. A space-time condensator to alter the flow of material objects between two particular coordinates! But if you replace this with this, and take out this bit...." She was a single breakthrough away from manical laughter, as she began enthusiastically remodeling the entire device. For some unknown reason, she had also added a coffee machine on the side. Few could comprehend the actions of a mad genius. "Big guy! Hand me the translocational calibrator!"

Doomsday looked around, trying to find this device, before realizing it had just almost mindlessly obeyed her. He frowned, as he realized he had no idea what those words meant, nor how she had commanded him. However, he could tell no force had impinged on his mind. A repeated order, clarifying the shape and size of the desired object, caused him to hand it over immediately, his superhuman senses able to locate the object before his common sense could dissuade him.

In full mad scientist mode, Agatha was remodelling the entire device, 'improving' the design constantly, even as she added in new features just to see if she could. Within a few minutes, she had created a portal device that simultaneously made coffee and shot lasers. The entire thing was like a frankenstein's monster of mechanical and theoretical science. But the important part was that it worked.

Within just a few moments, Apocalypse would emerge somewhere in the world, to wreak havoc. Agatha, meanwhile, would most likely follow. And while her form of destruction was less direct, she also had a habit of leaving death and destruction in her wake.

[Assistant]
@Hamstrong@Lmpkio

Grimlock growled once more in his alternate form before reverting back to his robot form. With the leg damaged as it was, it would no longer be wise to use in combat. It would take a bit of time and Energon for the wound to heal fully, something he would have to find later.

Activating his sword once more, he was about to move on the first target when the second one came from behind. Had he chosen to stay in his monstrous alternate form, he likely would have lost a leg. Luckily for him, his transformation made it so that he only lost the use of one of his arms. A pain, but it would allow him to stay in the fight, for now. With his sword arm no longer usable, he deactivated the weapon, and instead activated his shield. These pests were quickly becoming a problem he wasn't capable of dealing with alone.

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

Having chosen to fly around the city for a bit, Starscream was quickly becoming familiar with the place. His cloak made him almost undetectable to the local pests flying about, which mean he had free range to wander about as he pleased. Of course, even if they could spot him, they'd have a hard time catching him. No one could outfly him!

As he rounded a corner, Starscream spotted a familiar sight. The massive brute, Grimlock. The giant appeared to be fighting two miniscule aliens, and seemed to be losing to them. Pathetic! He'd have thought Shockwave's favorite toy would have done better ... but then again, perhaps not. That savage wasn't the brightest of Cybertronians. However, where others saw failure, he saw opportunity!

Deactivating his cloak, his jet form once again became visible, and his engines would be the first thing anyone would notice of him. Unleashing a pair of rockets, they streaked towards the two aliens confronting the massive giant, and a few seconds later slammed into the street, creating a large explosion. He followed up that attack with a burst of rounds from his rapid-fire cannons. He didn't have time to do any more, as he had already bypassed the targets. He cleared the buildings and entered the large space around the destoyed palace. He made a quick scan of his surroundings before banking around to start another strafing run. Hopefully this would put the dimwitted brute in his debt! After all, it would only be fair to repay the one who, out of the good in his spark, saved his life.

[User]
 It seemed to have worked. The robot transformed back into its normal form due to the severely damaged leg. The leg seemed to have turned into its arm, which worked great, as it tried to use a weapon, but had failed and was now forced to go one armed. That would make things easier. What wouldn't be easier however, was the fact that mere seconds afterwards a jet came by and bombarded the area. Cyano dived for cover behind the robot, and was protected from the bulk of the explosions and bullets. Seeing as there was now a flying threat, Cyano decided the present threat was the jet

"Hey, Samurai! You keep this guy distracted, I'll take care of that jet"

 With that, Cyano would try and run into a nearby building. If she managed to do so, and with grimlock putting more emphasis on Sam as the most immediate threat, she would begin to try and convert the teleporter into a make shift radio. If it could teleport people, then it should be able to teleport sound. It wouldn't take her very long before she managed to get it to use this double purpose. And not very long after that until she was able to enter the frequency to contact outward to get two fighters into the air to take down the jet.


[System]
* 𝐀𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐬(𝐞𝐬):

	+ Andy, or Drew
	+ Birdseye, Frame, or Telescope
	+ Scotty
* 𝐀𝐠𝐞:

	+ 29.
* 𝐒𝐞𝐱:

	+ Male
* 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲:

	+ Andrew is completely and utterly harmless in nature. He's one of those people that would wave at you as you walked down the street. Kindness follows the man, always willing to help those who need it. Although, he doesn't always have that much to give as he spends most of his money travelling and Whisky. However, to those that know him, he's an arrogant son of a bitch! But if it's brought up in conversation, he'll prove he has every right to be, and dismisses the comment entirely. Ever since he was a kid, he's loved going on nature walks. His father gave him his first camera at age 7, and he's had it ever since. As well as photography, he enjoys collecting things, and his room is filled with what most people consider useless junk. Andrew was a model child, and he hardly ever broke the rules. The most he ever does wrong is find himself in places he shouldn't be, such as the rooftops of Scotland. However, he is only there to take photos and if confronted he would have complied.
* 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐟 𝐇𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲:

	+ Andrew grew up in a middle-class household in the Isle of Man. He had strict parents, but they loosened up as he grew older. Andrew earned their trust by being a model student to his teachers. He did his homework on time, studied, and made straight A's in class. He even tutored his fellow students for some cash on the side! He was valedictorian of his class of 12, and he could have done whatever he wanted. He could have gone to Oxford if he had wanted. Instead, he chose to go to the Edinburgh School of Art in Scotland, where he studied photography. Just as he did in high school, he made top marks in all of his classes. His entire life, he'd spent his time wallowing in his own success. This didn't change when he opened his own photography business. His business took off like a rocket, he had begun by taking wedding photos. Eventually he moved on to taking photos of people on hiking trips, and the scenery itself. When the Two Day War happened, he was in high school and he had already made up his mind to be a photographer. When he learned about the S.T.A.L.K.E.R.S. through television, he knew that's what he'd wanted to do. He wanted to be the one documenting the STALKERS. Through chance, one of his clients, an old college friend that was getting married knew a guy in the Zone that could potentially help him. So, he went out and got a blowtorch and a bolt-cutter, tools of infiltration and trespassing. Through his friend, he'd also bought a pistol for self defense from the mutants. For his pack, he grabbed some canned food, a can-opener, two bottles of water, and just to celebrate his own inspiration and genius, two rather expensive bottles of Scotch. He would receive his weapon and ammunition from a hollowed tree near where he was to enter the Zone.
* 𝐖𝐞𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐬:

	+ Weapon 1; Sig Saur P228
	+ Weapon 2; Molotov Cocktail
	+ Weapon 3; Knife

[User]
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"Hell of a story," Max said. "Not everyday someone gives his Excalibur a name anymore. What do you want?" He perked up when it was time to make some money, but doubly so when people were waving their weapons around. In the grand scheme of things he had to suppose a Bowie knife was not so bad; Roach certainly couldn't stick anyone up with it! Besides, there was a pretty good atmosphere in the place at the moment, with not too much tension or risk; the barkeep was more curious than anything. He could tell a lot about a man both from the condition of his weapon and from what weapon it was in the first place. He thought that sniper over in the village would be a cold and methodical man, but one with a bit of a reckless streak; and it was true, at least until the Scotch cunt had actually opened his mouth. Max thought snipers were supposed to be patient and ruthless folks, but not that guy, who seemed to start more fights than he finished. The people with AKs he liked to think were more carefree and lenient. Why not? They could bathe those guns in mud, come back after a week, and the things would still be firing. That was the strange beauty which hid behind the ugliness of old Soviet machinery.

So what the hell was Roach's story? He thought he was Rambo; that was for sure, but there was nothing wrong with that if he lived up to the hype. Skillfully Max twirled a pint glass on the tip of his middle finger, catching it in the same hand. He waited, but also he watched. The handheld radio said something again, but Crow's voice was slurry and bitter, so whatever it was didn't seem very important. Max left the radio on the counter.

---

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Meanwhile...

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she spoke she saw his face gathering more confusion at her words, and more conflict. In truth he was wondering whether he ought to call her bluff. If he found something in the bag, then he was quite right, of course; but if not, then he only proved to her that he didn't trust her. And that sort of thing broke friendships easily, not to mention business arrangements. But she was offering of her own accord. She was afraid, or perhaps the precise opposite, knowing full well that he'd let her go, and she'd slip away with his goods.

Well, Marcel didn't like thinking too hard. It didn't strike him as the sort of thing a leader had to do. Wasn't that what lackeys were for? "All right. Throw it down," he ordered, and when she did, he waved one such lackey forward to search the pockets and pouches. All eyes were on him, so tempted though he was, this thug was not so eager to pilfer anything from her supplies.

He stood up. "She's clean."

"All right, Marty. We're square. Now come inside. We're gonna make another deal." Marcel gave the signal and the snipers up on the roof took more lax postures. They went back to their cigarettes and their tape players. Meanwhile the people on the ground were moving toward the wide sliding door of the factory loading dock.

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Meanwhile...

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isolation plagued people more than anything, for between the lightning-bouts of primordial terror which accompanied the glint of a scope on a hillside, or the flash of fangs in the night, there were only boredom and miles and walking. Miles and miles of walking. Nasea had come to what once was a farmhouse, its silo gaunt and crumpled inward like a hollow stomach. But the grasses had grown tall, and the edges of the woods had crept shyly outward when the scythes and lawn-mowers and plows, its predators, all had gone still. It crept up through their old iron bones. So though she may have smelled something faintly familiar to her, like bags of manure or frostbitten hay, the residue of humanity had long been washed away. Nature had conquered the place, assimilated it, redecorated it in the same wild aesthetic as the very trees and rivers themselves.

Maybe there was something left worth scrounging. Maybe the mice she could hear scurrying in the rotting walls had left her a crumb to eat, or the farmer's wife had left some jewelry in the hole in the mattress. But until she bothered to investigate, only silence affronted her, terrible, merciless silence, laughing in the faintest clacking of the budding twigs above.

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Meanwhile...

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"Boss, someone's coming from the village." Crow didn't bother to raise his weapon, and really, he almost didn't mention the new presence to the boss at all. As Gideon came into view the lookout realized quickly that they recognized each other; the decrepit old Bavarian buildings off to the east had a few long-term residents, just like the mice birthing their babies in the sawdust of an old farm's wall. Crow waved.

"Oi! That wasn't you, was it?" he called out, regarding the gunshot, from the wooden watchtower which they had built leaning against the old brick wall. Crow swore it came from the west, and he'd said so into the radio, but it was hard to tell sometimes. Everyone's nerves were frayed, and besides, a noise that loud could bounce across any hillside it wished, and disorient the fools at its mischievous fancy. No one looked or sounded stupid for wanting to be sure.

[Assistant]
She looked up after Marcel gave the signal, watching as the men behind the sniper rifles turned their attention elsewhere away from her and the others on the ground floor. Even though her innocence had been acknowledged and this was a huge relief for Amelia, she had hoped to get some rest, not head straight into another delivery job. But she remained quiet as she followed Marcel and his crew, knowing that she would lose more than a handful of cash if she were to refuse.

As she kept walking, Amelia's mind drifted to past memories of her childhood back in Cuba. She remembered playing games in the school yard with the rest of her classmates, especially that one time she was accidentally tripped and ended up chipping her front left tooth. She remembered one of the teachers walking her home immediately after the incident to show her mother the damage. She remember her mother overreacting at something that seemed so small and meaningless to Amelia at the time. She remembered it all, and she wondered how life would have turned out had they never left the island.

But, just like that, she was back in the real word as she quickly sidestepped in order to avoid running into one of Marcel's minions.

[User]
Gideon looked up and over at Crow as he approached and responded to his question, waving back.

"No, I just got up. Couldn't even see where it came from myself."

Gideon was fond of the biergarten, he had become a regular several months ago when he chose to setup a more permanent residence in the village. They had better food and drink than most Gideon knew in the area, and he often gave Max and his crew a first chance to bargain on stuff he managed to find that he didn't already have buyers for. He figured that they could use some of the things he found more than he or people outside of The Zone, and marks were marks regardless of whether or not they came from the hand of people within or without The Zone.

He passed by Crow casually and proceeded over the threshold into the bar and lounge. He saw several patrons already at tables, with a crowd particularly gathered around an Aussie (by his accent, anyway) he didn't recognize, probably some merc going off on another escapade. He'd seen more than a few pass through even in his time here.

He saw Max at the bar cleaning pint glasses and casually waved as he leaned up to the bar and took a seat on one of the old stools, he slipped his pack off to lean against the bar by his legs.

"Morning Max, what have you got on the menu today?"

[Assistant]
Andrew trembled as he made his way into the biergarten. The pale man stumbled through the door and found the first empty chair he could find. He hadn't even bothered to shut the door. If the door had a bell that let the room know someone had entered, Andrew hadn't heard it. He was cold, tired, and scared. For the first minute or two, he didn't say a word to anyone. He didn't look at anything. He'd sat at a table with his head hung low. Another patron took this as a cue to leave.
"Sit up straight you baboon, you'll never catch your breath hunched over like that!"
Before Andrew could say anything back to retort, the man had gone. After a few minutes had passed he regained his composure and made his way for the bar. Some food and water would ease his mind, he thought. As he approached the bar he took a look around to gather his surroundings. The room was dimly lit and filled with conversation. Then there were those drinking to their heart's content. At first glance, this seemed like your average tavern. And then Andrew saw them. Guns everywhere. Everyone in this room had some kind of weapon on them, and he felt like he was the weakling in the saloon in one of those western American films. He put a hand on his hip. Although he wouldn't have been able to draw even if someone HAD confronted him, he wanted to make sure he at least HAD it on him still. He shrunk a bit as he walked, hoping not to draw the gun-toting partrons' attention. He chose a seat at the end of the bar where he could turn his back to the wall. He waved a bartender over, and asked if there was someone named Max.
"He's over at that table there." The bartender pointed at a table, a short distance away. "Can I get you anything to drink? You look like you've seen a ghost."
"I'm good for now. Got anything to eat?"


[System]
R.I.S.C. Dossier

---
Age

16

Physical Evaluation

Quinnlash is a young woman, five foot three, average build, and slightly underweight. She has very long hair (dark gray streaked with bright yellow) cut into sharp, straight bangs in front, and typically tied into a braid. When tied, it ends at approximately hip height. Untied, it falls nearly to her knees. She has extremely pale skin, unmarked with the exception of scarring around her empty eye socket (right), over which she wears a black and yellow eyepatch. Her remaining eye (left) is brilliant yellow. She has a sharp chin and jawline. Her muscle mass is slightly beneath consistent with regular exercise, and she is somewhat clumsy. She has a tendency to stumble if she isn't watching where she steps.

Psychological Profile

Quinnlash has some very strange psychological markers that nonetheless make sense when her history is taken into account. She is very much

1) Outgoing
2) Friendly
3) Cheerful
and 4) Supportive,
as well as

1) Anxious
2) Emotionally volatile
3) Prone to attention-seeking behavior
and 4) Highly competitive.

In addition, she seems to bear a great deal of attachment issues (for more information, check her background information).

Background Information

Neither we nor Quinnlash herself know exactly where she was born, but all she can remember is the house she lived in for sixteen years in Hovvi. Specifically, she remembers her own room, as she only left it—without permission, I might add—twice in her life. She was kept completely isolated by her parents, researchers on Modir and modium, and was only aware of what they allowed her to be. The only notable incident throughout her life was, as far as can be told, two or three months after she snuck out into the living room and saw the outside world for the first time. Her right eye spontaneously burst (very likely a result of sudden modium growth) and was subsequently removed.

The second time she snuck out was fully, immediately before meeting Besca, which was the first time she actually left her house. She was intimidated and fascinated, and the world seemed to stare at her very strangely. The only known survivor of the Hovvi Incident, she was removed from the town's ruins and taken to the Aerie, where she was subsequently tested for compatibility and given a modioscory to interface with a Savior.

There are a number of strange medical anomalies present in Quinnlash's system, such as her bright yellow eye and the hair being naturally yellow. More pressing is the unfeasible level of modium present in her entire system when she was first retrieved post-Hovvi Incident, and the filed and maintained seed growth of modium in place of her missing eye. Interim-Commander Darroh has taken over care of the child's training as a pilot, and should be contacted for any inquiries.
Savior

---

Designation

Ablaze

Body

Tall and lean, Ablaze is on the thinner side for a Savior. Long scutes of modium not unlike those found on some aquatic organisms run along the arms and legs, forming a sort of natural armmor-weapon combination. The fingers are long and end in sharp claws. At the pilot's request, its right eye has been covered with a thick plate of metal.

Weapon

Ablaze's weapon, suited to the name, is a cannon as long as long as Ablaze is tall that fires explosive blasts of fire. The mechanism by which it produces this fire is unknown. When phased, the cannon gains a charge mechanism, allowing her to charge a shot for up to five seconds to increase the destructive yield considerably, up to approximately twice the size and intensity of the blast at full charge. In addition, the cannon shots can be detonated on command, or detonation can be delayed as a form of trap.

[User]
The first thing Quinn did after her eyes cracked open was yawn. Cavernously.

The second thing she did was stretch, grunting quietly in satisfaction as her joints made pleasant popping sounds.

The second thing she did was frown, still a little muddled from sleep. The TV? Why was the TV saying her name?

Throwing on a gray t-shirt and the same black sweats she'd worn for her phasing test (she'd grown quite attached to them by now, given that they ranked among the first things to really belong to her), she padded over to the door and pushed it open. It was getting easier and easier every day. And her focus was elsewhere anyway.

What??

She was on TV.

And not just her Savior. Her, leaning tiredly against Ablaze's neck. A memory of the exhaustion she'd felt at that moment echoed through her and she flinched. Then it cut to a clip of her backpedaling frantically away from Blotklau as ichor sprayed from countless wounds. The newscaster was saying something about potential hostilities and certain political tension between Runa and Helburke, and she stared for a moment longer, horribly fascinated at seeing her Savior moving in third person. Even now, it still gave her chills.

She turned her head then to Dahlia, cocking her head with an expression of vague worry on her face.

"Why am I on TV, Deelie? It's been days, right?" She looked back at the news. There she was again, making that...surprisingly graceful, now that she looked at it...roll as her cannon blazed. "Is this normal?"

[Assistant]
"Mo-orning~!" Dahlia called, sing-song, as soon as Quinn emerged from her room. She quickly prepped a plate for her; eggs, sweet toast with syrup, a peeled orange. Besca had drilled into her the merits of a healthy breakfast long ago, and she'd come to find that even on the hardest and most grueling days, she never regretted a good start to the morning.

She watched Quinn's focus shift to the TV, and frowned. She'd meant to at least mute it. Talk still hadn't died down, and while a modest singularity in Tohoki had diluted global attention somewhat, Runa itself was still very keyed-in on their newest, strangest pilot.

"Ah…sort of, yeah. Usually it's a couple of days, then there's a singularity somewhere, or another duel starts, or there's a conflict brewing somewhere, and everyone starts speculating who gets pitted against who." Besca had showed her one of those 'Fantasy Duel' leagues before, where people drafted matches and bet on the winners. There was, evidently, quite a lot of money in it. It never sat quite right with her.

"But things are pretty settled right now. Casoban and Helburke aren't happy, but we're involved in that, so the eye is still on you." She made herself a plate, sat down. "I mean, can you blame them? There's a lot to talk about, and once word gets out that we're still looking after Roaki, they're only gonna get more interested. People wanna…know, y'know? They wanna know about you, about the duel, about all that stuff. Actually, you might have to start thinking about your first interview. The Board'll prolly keep you in Runa, but you'll get to choose from a few of the big stations. Besca'll know more about that though—she had to go take care of something, said she'd be around later."

[User]
Quinn watched the TV for a moment more before shaking her head vigorously to both chase the cobwebs that lingered from sleep out and divert her attention. Instead she turned and plonked herself down in the chair closest to the oven and stove, which she had steadily begun to consider hers and where Dahlia had put her food. Which, she reflected as she ate, was just tasty as usual. Dahlia had learned how Quinn liked her eggs roundabout the same time as Quinn had herself, and it had rapidly become one of her favorite foods.

The main drawback to her post next to the range, however—well, not usually, but right now, certainly—was that she could see the TV just as clearly as before. The scene that was playing now was one that she knew, if she could still had nightmares, would appear in them: the swordsman impaling Blotklau, her own Savior roaring bloody murder as she dashed towards the two of them.

A shiver passed through her body as Dahlia mentioned the Board. Anxiety was still burning deep within her, lighting a fire and setting her stomach to boiling. How they would react to her blatant disregard for their rules last night was a thought that she'd gone to sleep with, and it hadn't disappeared with the morning.

She delicately placed the fork down on the plate, looking down blankly at the half-eaten toast and eggs (she'd eaten the orange first, because she loved them).

Deep breath. One, then two, then three. If she'd learned one thing yesterday, it was that she could tell Dahlia anything, no matter how trite or awful, and be taken seriously, answered with honesty and compassion.

"...Have you ever broken the Board's rules, Deelie?"

[Assistant]
Dahlia saw Quinn set down her fork, breathe deeply, and knew that something was coming. She didn't know what she'd expected, but a question of rebelliousness had not been it. Then again, why not? It was a fair question, and the answer…complex. Likely to be disappointing, but at least not in the way Dahlia feared it would be.

"No," she said, and it was a bit like admitting she didn't know how to ride a bike, or whistle. It felt…not quite shameful, but certainly embarrassing. "I've wanted to, but…there haven't been a lot. At least, not a lot that they've tried to use with me. I guess I've never made them mad, is more like what I mean. Yeah I've skipped training days, or played hooky on interviews, but nothing serious."

She knew why well enough. She never questioned things, never caused problems—though saying it like that made it sound like Quinn was a troublemaker, which, technically she was. But what Quinn was doing was good trouble. Needed trouble. No one should have been mad at Quinn for what she did, not at the duel and not last night.

They would be anyway.

"I've never done a lot of things. Being a pilot kinda takes more opportunities than it gives you. But just because you've never done something before doesn't mean it's wrong—you're the proof." She crossed her arms on the counter, laid her head down on them to be more level with Quinn. "You're worried about what they'll do, huh? 'Cause of Roaki."

[User]
Quinn pulled her feet up onto her chair, wrapped her arms around her knees, and held them tight, making eye contact with her sister briefly before looking away. Even though the stove behind her was still warm from Dahlia's cooking, she suddenly felt cold, and she found herself shivering. It was a hard thing to feel, that frigid wind. It reminded her still of her first few days here, a blur of panic and screaming and tears and she felt her breath hitch before she quickly shut it down.

But she was quickly knocked out of her reverie by Dahlia being...well, correct. But that just made sense, if she thought about it for more than a split second. Of course Dahlia would know what Quinn thinking, 'cuz Dahlia was the best. They'd spent so much time together that they were—well, that wasn't quite true. Dahlia was starting to read Quinn. Quinn, on the other hand, wasn't able to quite put together how other people thought in general. Not yet. But if she was close to doing so with anyone, it was definitely Dahlia, beyond a shadow of a doubt.

She looked up at the ceiling, and her brow furrowed. "...Yeah. I don't think they'll do anything to us, I'm important now and you already were." She sounded almost dazed, still. The idea of her being important on the world stage would take some getting used to. She swallowed. "But what about Besca, or Doctor Follen? What about Roaki?" She sighed, long and deep, and a feeling of fear and anger that she was quite familiar with by now welled up within her.

"I'm just afraid they'll take something from us that we can't get back."