[System]
Species: Human

Age: 28

Gender: Female

Appearance: Shorter than average, dark hair, somewhat sun-kissed skin from outdoor activity, and way less scars than one would've expect. Usually clad in mail hauberk adorned with pieces of banners from felled foes (or a pretty dress, at rarer occasion), and always with at least one weapon in her person.

Bio: When Yvonne was born she's the only child to the opulent but very much declining house Rosenving, it took less than two more decades of ridiculous parties and all-around bad financial management before it was driven to the verge of bankruptcy. Naturally there comes the talk of marriage upon which Yvonne, an oddball obsessed with distinctly unladylike things like driving the business end of a weapon into someone's soft flesh, all but absconded with her great-grandfather's blade. The rest of her life was spent in a wild ride of mercenary work and avoiding (more commonly, well, thoroughly violencing) the men hired by her family and/or her would-be fiance to bring her back. Her journey brought her all round the three kingdoms and more, even after her ancestral home collapsed and pursuers stopped coming.

Invited by promise of great reward and, among other thing, to try save the little henchman boy that used to follow her around (yes, that would be the prince), and the fact that she happen to be lurking around the border already, Yvonne stepped back toward the royal court of Kindeance once more.

Skillset: Well versed in outdoor survival, knack for murder and violence, oddly high spatial awareness, dancing, easily thrives in chaotic situation, very good at intimidation, weaves pretty dang well, and is proficient using common melee weapons. Personally prefers the mace despite her title.

Spells:
-Mansplitter (Self-buff. Gain inhuman strength for a very short period. The stronger the effect, the greater the backlash.)
-Warcry (AoE debuff. Inflict terror in a wide area. Greater effect on closer target, and greater effect on direction Yvonne is facing.)
-Bloodlust (Passive. Haste, pain tolerance, and resistance to mental effect. Starts off weak but ramps up as the fight goes on.)
-Resilience (Passive. Harder to injure, less affected by existing injuries, and heals a lot faster than normal at the cost of increased calorie usage.)

Equipment: Daily necessities (preserved rations, a tin pot, medical supply, knapping, change of clothes, etc), adorned mail hauberk, the sword her great-grandfather wielded that probably never saw use since then until it landed in her hands, a heavy flanged mace, a rondel dagger.

Other: Can be inserted to the plot any time it's convenient (or fun) to do so.

[User]
Solomon Sparrow
Location:  Fanghorn, Kindeance

---

 It was much quieter up at the second floor. The faint sound of combat and further explosions shook the floor beneath Solomon was evidence enough. Dust scattered down from the ceiling and wafted in the air through the beams of sunlight from the near window. The room was obviously some kind of bed chamber, probably the baron's with how well furnished it was, with rugs and tapestries, and a large bed. After a quick look around, and finding the room empty, he noticed a magical box on the nearby table. It rested with runes glowing over its surface. What magic was contained inside Solomon wasn't sure. However, he did deem it best that the inhabitants of the keep not have access to it, with swift movement, Solomon tucked the box away.

 Now, as to his current mission to locate the prince. He held out his hand as another stream of energy radiated from the large tome near his back. It streamed in ribbons of silver and black mist culminating within his palm before dispersing into the air, as opposed to that of the ground. Slowly a white aura appear and then formed into the figure of a hideous woman. She was without legs, had long arms that ended in frail looking but lethal claws. Her skin held tightly to bone in form, warts and lashes about her angled face. Hair like static frilled all around, flowing general behind her head. Tattered dress with shredded frills around the hem covered her figure. She cackled before her eyes went wide and the form diminished back into a misshapen mass of ethereal ectoplasm and reconstituting into that of a child. An unassuming child in leggings, traveling vest, and short skirt entirely white with as her skin, the scenery behind visible through her form. She levitated inches above the ground, however her feet remained flat like she was standing on a flat surface.

 "Violet."

 "I know." She said softly. She looked up at the necromancer through the shadow of his hood. "I'll help find him." The ghost of a little girl then disappeared. Violet was more or less a ghost for the purposes of what Solomon was doing. Freely able to travel through walls much like a shadow, Violet was able to do so completely invisible even if her movement was considerably slower. Likewise, she held more power within herself, hopefully able to better withstand the purge spell Solomon felt earlier. No wonder his shadows were so easily dismissed. Likewise, his skeletons were probably also gone. For now, it was him, his tempest, Bartholomew, and Violet. For now at least, it would be her and he searching room to room. Violet would head to the third floor while Solomon would remain at the second.

 Finished with his plan, Solomon once again became incorporeal and traveled through the door out into the hall. At the same time, he called upon the two shadows still on standby near August and also had them come to the keep. Should Asevor cast another purge, they would cease to be, but the more eyes within the keep the better. The quicker he could find the prince, the quicker he could evacuate him and return to aid his allies. As it stood, the battle quieted down, but Solomon doubted that meant the fight had ended. Though weak, he could still feel Bartholomew, and his fighting spirit was still burning.

 Speaking of the tempest Bartholomew, the purge spell had done a number on his already failing structural integrity. The flame upon his head diminished in luminosity, no longer burning white, but instead a cooler deep red in color. In no time, he was bent in half, collapsed to the ground, and shortly after used as a flail. As it was, he was not much use, but as he was caught in the vines, he reached out with his free hand and attempted to pull himself from Ragnar, should the redirect not free him. He was prepared for even if it meant losing the arm he was being swung by. Even without his legs and potentially missing an arm, Bartholomew would not give in, yet. If it was possible, he would swing himself using any remaining vines roots above and body slam the barbarian.

[Assistant]
[GM Post]

Well now this was quite the pickle. Six of the mercenaries had perished, and just as many lost limbs in the short altercation. The baron, too, was part of the casualties. Asevor clicked his tongue in annoyance, that one death meant he no longer did the perfect job. And Antigone wasn't even present! By all right there's no mage that could match him in the surrounding area, yet they snuck a low blow on him regardless.

Unacceptable.

"Bah, give a druid a moment and- Quit yammering, this is nothing."

As the magical bulwark was overlaid with vines, it darkened inside until the only source of light was the tesseract Asevor was constructing. The distraught mercenaries stopped their hushed whispers at the order, though the death and dismemberment half their rank just experienced had rendered their morale wavering they still had enough trust on the archmage's prowess. For now, at least.

It took some time to construct this one, the elderly mage needing to consult his notebook multiple times in the process. He couldn't see what's going on outside, what's with the vines physically and magically hindering the sight, but it's quite unlikely for his foes to have blown the door open. The clean up wouldn't be pretty, but this particular surprise wasn't an easy one to defend against. Tracing the final line into a vaguely serpentine abstract shape, Asevor pushed out the magical construct as it phased through the barrier and emerged outside.

"Caustic Cloud of Ruzpin."

A few moment earlier, Ragnar's swing of the makeshift bludgeon was interrupted by the vines. It missed, the excess force separating the Tempest at the elbow joint. Bartholomew's attempt to swing back, meanwhile, also failed just as hard as the vines weren't made to support the still significant momentum of steel plates. The root came off the wall, the undead clattering back down on the floor.

At least he's away from Ragnar at the moment.

The northlander wasn't having a good time either. He abruptly realized that the electrifying current within his blood had dissipated, rendering him only as strong as he normally would. He stepped back again, this time picking up a chair for a weapon, but the experienced combatants wouldn't miss this chance. A few probes and they confirmed that the magical power-up had ran its course. Yvonne hooked the chair before dragging it down, making enough opening for Chounan to slash through an eye while Veronica landed a deep gash through the neck. There seemed to be some tug-of-war as the blood was pulled between the weapon and the juggernaut's veins, but in the end a glob was split off as the scythe greedily drank the crimson essence.

At that time, the glowing tesseract emerged from the shell. Veronica's eyes widen before it even took effect, stopping her assault to shout at the rest of her team.

"Acid fog incoming! We need to get out of here!"

*****

Not far away, Solomon's search would find some more rooms. The presumably heirs' rooms were empty and seemingly unlived for some time, though it's kept clean and spotless still. There's a few guest rooms, empty save for one - it had a number of magical wards enclosing the entire room, Asevor's mana signature littered all over the formation. These weren't meant to be particularly strong, but enough that it'll take some effort to physically dismantle. Magical intrusion still would met some resistance, though not as severe, yet the biggest issue was that any trespassing attempt would've alerted Asevor of the fact.

The third floor was a rather clear split. About a third of it were servants' quarters and kitchen and whatnot, currently filled with cowering peasants unsure of what's going on with a number of them sporting injuries. The rest of it seemed to be where the mercenaries were housed, enough bedding for fifty men yet currently completely empty.

A stairs up led to the battlement, the door leading up locked tight.

[User]
The bearman stopped dead in his tracks as the glowing tessaract emerged from the vine encased barrier, then bloomed into a slowly spreading vapor that clung in the air.

More unbidden, but potentially useful memories drifted through his head then back out again. He and his dad had been trying to contain and reclaim the 'fungally overgrown' section of their home forest. His dad had warned him about the dangers of inhaling mists and particles, but had offered him one of his shirts, which he had plunked in the nearby stream.

"Don' breath 'at shi' in boy" he had said, while extending the wetted shirt. "Wrap dis 'round ya head, an' breaths through 'at."

The memory left as quickly as it came. The ominous cloud of mist continued to slowly rise into the room, causing the leaves on the vines to wilt almost on contact. He DEFINITELY did not want to breathe that in.

The pulled down curtain adorned the floor under his feet, which he quickly snatched up before scanning the room for something to wet it with. The elf woman's antics with the table had toppled all of the remaining drink decanters onto the floor rendering them useless for the task at hand. He needed something to wet it with, and soon-- As he hurriedly scanned the room, the realization that he had not gone to the little bear's room since Hdur came home to roost. He did not like the idea at all, but it was all he had to work with.

Drawing and huffing an irritated breath, he hiked up the front of his robes, shoved the brilliant red curtain into place with one hand, leaned against the wall with the other, then relieved himself of the fluid fraction of the stew he had ate the previous day, until the curtain was sopping wet, and the pungent odor of "male bear" hit his nose-- which wrinkled at the prospect of what had to come next.

He gave the wad of cloth a momentary queeze to distribute the 'moisture' evenly, paused half a moment, then draped the odorous rag over himself as if it were a table cloth, and he a table. The only thing he could see was red fabric, and the scent of "his own brand" dominated his offended nose.

He growled, then turned toward the barred entrance door, and began to body slam it.

[Assistant]
Acid? Godspit. Yvonne had seen what a magically conjured glob of those could do to flesh, she wasn't about to linger around and find out how painful exactly it was to quite literally melt off your own bones. There were two exits. One's at the other side, beyond the damnable mage's barrier and out of reach. The other was the entrance that was locked earlier. Would it be easier to break the windows? No, those were all stone and way too narrow.

The entrance, then.

"Someone hold back Ragnar, go!"

Disengaging, the mercenary's eyes locked on the heavy axe forgotten in the corner. To think that it's useful now, huh? She picked it up, grimacing at the sheer weight of the weapon and the insanity of someone who crafted the whole damned thing out of metal, but that's a boon now. The door was at least two inches thick, regular axe just wouldn't make it.

With an angry yell, Yvonne tapped into her inner strength as she swung the axe with as much force as she could. Over and over. Then Cedar came barelling with his bulk, the two taking turn axing and slamming to the stupidly sturdy door.

Will they make it? Yvonne didn't quite felt like turning back to look.


[System]
Age: 24
Magic: Lost Magic: Energy Control Magic; Mayt can control and manipulate various types of energy. He inherited this magic from his family.

Amplify - Amplifies a specified energy, cannot amplify magic.

Reflect - Reverses an energy, such as motion, at half of what it was originally.

Shape Magic - Shapes the caster's magic 'container'
Reinforce Inanimate - Reinforces an inanimate object with the caster's magic, making it more durable and allows it to act as an alternate method of using another energy control spell.
Reinforce Body - Reinforces the caster's body, making it more durable, but can cause serious damage if the energy control spell attached to this isn't maintained properly. Considered "Forbidden", but is not a taboo.

Warp - Redirects an energy, does not need to be actively used.
Magic Level: S
History: Mayt Derren Marris grew up in a small town, its name of no importance, in the middle of virtually nowhere. In his hometown, he had grown to know almost half a dozen different parents. He was taken away from his birth parents at age 10, as they were both incapable of properly taking care of a child. His second set of parents were nice, but his distrustful tendencies, and getting new parents just before his teen years, he blocked them out. They fed him, clothed him, and took him to school, that was all that was important about them to Mayt. They weren't his birth parents, he didn't like them. They gave him to the local orphanage the first time he drew a knife on them, which he had done in an attempt to prove that, despite his somewhat meek frame, he could be a powerful fighter. He didn't have to be a bookworm. By this time he was 14

At age sixteen, Mayt was adopted by, as he likes to put it, "Parent Wannabees". His parents were sort of doing a trial-run on adopting a child so that they had some idea what to expect. They didn't expect a child distrustful of them to the point of learning how to cook and handle himself while not getting in the way. Mayt turned into a child who simply lived in the same house and breathed the same air. He had gotten a part-time job, bought his own food, did his own laundry, and cleaned his room. Despite his seemingly good-nature in doing this, he acted very sour, and often was caught by Truancy Officers, and managed to barely pass his classes. Not caring about the future, the month he was allowed to leave his parents house as a legal adult, he did, setting out into the world. He wondered at first, choosing to go town to town on foot, enjoying the walk, and eventually starting to enjoy being on the road, where he could think.

By his twenty first birthday, he had rented an apartment in a small city, and has chosen to stay there for a while. He needed money and odd-jobs while traveling wasn't cutting it. On his birthday, he received a package from his birth parents. At first Mayt was skeptical of the package. He hadn't known his parents since he was a child, yet they knew where he was setting up temporary residence? Once he had gotten over this, he opened the package to reveal something stranger still, a Katana. They not only had known where he lived, but had known he had been practicing, off and on, different sword skills. Mostly due to the fact that they interested him, and he couldn't understand how they had known. He still kept the weapon, and he started to train more with it, eventually finding somebody of teach him in a more official manner. At this point, he has some skill with the weapon, but he is far from professional.

Around twenty three, he started to realize he had magic, he just had never noticed it. He discovered this when practicing with the gift sword, and he had accidentally burnt the blade on a hot day, leaving char on it. Despite how often he tries to clean it, the blade never seems to not have that char from his first real use of magic, and ever since he's been practicing to the best of his ability. He does it best through his weapon, but he can do it when not wielding his weapon.

Personality: Loner, vocal in his opinions, and stubborn.
Team Members: None
Three Strengths:
1. Good Cook, Mayt, having lived on his own for a long time, has learned how to cook pretty well, without any reliance on magic or supernatural abilities.
2. Loyal, Mayt's trust isn't the easiest to gain, but it's not difficult either. And when his trust is gained, he is quite the loyal friend, risking bodily harm to protect those close if neccessary.
3. Swordsman, Mayt is somewhat skilled at using his Katana, and he can use his magic through it.
Three Weaknesses:
1. Loner, Mayt prefers to work on his own as he has all his life, which makes it difficult for him to work in a group and follow a plan.
2. Anarchist, Mayt often outright disobeys orders simply because they were given. He doesn't take this to an extreme, but the wrong choice at the wrong time can be devastating.
3. Lost Magic, Mayt's magic is a form of lost magic, meaning it is more powerful than most magics, but also is more dangerous for him to use.
Greatest Love: Doesn't really have one.
Motivation: To find where he belongs.
Appearance: Mayt stands at 5'11" tall, and typically wears simple clothing that's close-fitting but not very restrictive. No real protection. When he's traveling, he carries a large backpack filled with his stuff, and his Katana is kept at his side. He has light skin, and medium-dark brown hair that he keeps trimmed at a little under an inch long. His eyes are green, and he's starting to grow a little bit of a mustache. The scabbard for his sword is simple leather, unadorned, but slightly charred as well.
Additional Details: Mother now lives in Magnolia Town. Maximum potential unknown, and it was recently discovered he has a great deal of knowledge about his magic stored away in his head via archive magic.

[User]
The black cat that was Kali was still carrying on, despite the familiar face. She wriggled, as if testing the boundaries of Sayuri's grip.

Jamie chuckled, "If I told you, I'd be denied the chance of seeing the council suprirsed" He smiled, looking over to Sayuri, "She's an absolute gem. It's all helpful" She said, looking back to Masahiko.

Angelica was not pleased at this turn of events. Losing Kali as her eyes had stopped her seeing when Jamie was approaching. And Masahiko's daughter being with the Master of Phoenix Wing was just another nasty little shock. Kali hissed, growled, and tried to escape Sayuri once more.

"You have no right coming in here unannounced" Angelica started, but Jamie never let her finish.

"What, so you can prepare for me? But I so love seeing you unstable and stumbling to regain your feet whenever I appear. Isn't that right, Jarvis?" Jamie turned aside from Angelica, clearly dismissing her, to Jarvis.

"You do love seeing people surprised" jarvis agreed easily, but his eyes seemed to watch everyone in the room.

Anger crossed Angelica's face, and the room dimmed just slightly. "Yes, well, I'd have to wonder why you come in announced, when it's starting to get dark, with your whole guild around. Why would someone do that, I wonder?" She said, clearly getting her rhythm back. She walked around the room, meeting the eyes of the other council members. "Why would someone do that, if they weren't planning something?"

Jamie snorted, "Not everything revolves around you, princess" She said, smiling easily.

"When it clearly revolves around you" Angelica shot back, but Jamie was enjoying himself now, and doing what he had set out to do, which was undermine everything Angelica did.

"Seriously, Jamie, which are you, male or female? No one knows" Ted said. Jamie knew it was Ted, because Tim slapped his brother and said "Ted! You can't just ask someone if they are girl or boy, what if they're embarrassed about their appearance?"

Carrie giggled, seemingly at ease now. Jamie smiled and said, "Oh, there is one or two people that know. guess you haven't found them yet. Or managed to get them away from me" And now Jamie looked to Angelica again. "Not that you haven't tried. I protect my people, and Jarvis is just mine through and through"

------

Penny held the Sound Ball close to her, listening to the goings on within the council room. It seemed like a lot of messing around, but Master Jamie was skilled at what she did. Penny could tell that he had a way, and was using it, to simply draw the council to what she wanted.

The sound ball seemed to work perfectly, and she poked Phones, to get his attention. "Good job. The ball works perfectly" Show appreciation. Find a way to work with them all.

[Assistant]
On the highest floor of the Magic Council's library, a shrouded young man could see a group of wizards suddenly walk into the library looking as if they were searching for something. While from that distant, he could see one of the amphibian employees of the Council, one that is quite old and with a green color skin, approach a brown hair man with a katana, "Sir, you must be careful with these books that you are feeling. Especially since you are a wizard, who knows how much damage that you might do to these books that date back a hundred years ago. Instead, to help avoid any risks of damage to these books, tell me the book and maybe I can assist with your search. If not, then I will have to call security for your careless act of how you are treating these book."

The shrouded man left out a soft sigh and began to leave the library. *That green frog, however kind he may be, always takes these books too seriously. But I found the book that I needed for the private archives so I'll just let the guy help someone else instead.* he thought to himself while leaving.

---

Kapu was close, but a call some how ended up up closer. An amphibian employee ran by and told Grane of some event going on in the Council's Chamber and advised that it would be best to turn the projection lacrima to see what was occurring. *I leave for a few minutes and something has to happen*, Grane thought to himself while the amphibian was quickly informing what was the situation from another amphibian at the Magic Council's building. The lacrima projection came back on in the chamber, but the projection was still showing its previous issue from before but Grane still carried on.

"So you must be Master Jamie of Phoenix Wing. I apologizes for not being there in person to greet you probably, but I tend to be out most of the time. But one does not have to suddenly barge into another person's home without stating their business and intentions here. I'll get to my points. As I am aware, you have multiple members of your guild here today, but I do not understand why you could not simply inform us of your sudden interest before you arrived to Kapu. Sure we might of denied it, but that does not give enough reason to my understanding as to why you would still come without at least putting that effort, unless you were in some hurry. There is also the the job you spoke of, from what I am told, you have yet to mention the specific of this job. Yes, you have mentioned that your members are searching our library, but you have not mention what it is that they seek.

There was a short pause where Grane tried to gather some air to help continue.

"What I am really trying to say right now is stop stalling with your little conversations with my fellow Council members and please state your specific reason as to why you have your guild here without even informing us ahead of time as to why your guild is here? You could have at least shown us some decency by sending us some notification that you and your guild was coming for something that sounded so simple, but apparently you might think we don't have the time. So similar to what I asked earlier, what is so important that you have to show up suddenly without giving us knowledge of it, what are you not telling us?" He finished and waited for the guild master's response.

[User]
_And here_ Jamie thought, _is where I lie utterly and completely._

She smiled, and said, "I know who you are, Grane. Protector in short of the magic council. I respect that. I didn't plan to be here" throw in some truth "I merely thought, after having some troubles on the train with a new member, that having the guild stop for the night would be good, for the generally public, as well as for my members. I did think, briefly of sending communication down that we would be stopping over, but then I had some trouble with said new member" Part truth.

"And I'll be truthful with you" Jamie said with a laugh, "I love to surprise and annoy the council. It's just so much...fun. My members have several jobs going at once. I keep track on them, but tend to let them do the jobs on their own. While we have an extensive library in my guild, there are things we don't have there. And a couple of my S class mages are helping me out with a research project as well." And here Jamie's expression changed to serious. "A little while ago, one of our members disappeared. We don't know where, or how, but it happened during a training exercise. So I'm exploring all avenues, and since we stopped the night here, wished to take advantage of the library the council has."

He sighed, and said "So I guess a combination of things lead us here. And no disrespect to the council, but if I sent communication a head of time, it would have given them time to prepare, and I like it when they aren't prepared, at least when talking with them"

None of the other council members seemed to speak, for which Jamie was grateful.

[Assistant] Mayt sighed when the _thing_, whatever it was, approached him and asked him not to touch the books. "Alright, if you're willing to help, I'm looking for a book by a member of Fairy Tale, written somewhere around a hundred years ago." He crossed his arms, looking up and down the aisle quickly. "And I believe it has a pink guild mark on the cover, so if you can help me find that, I'd be in your debt. If not, well, I'm just going to go back to feeling books for magical energy." He made sure to speak clearly for who he assumed was the librarian, or one of them.


[System]
Age: 17
Gender: Female
Race: Human

Weapon: Unlike the majority of Hunters that dwell the broken world of Remnant, Gratia wields two, separate and completely distinct weapons due to her poverty, which has prevented her from obtaining more advanced weaponry. She wields a dull, grey mameluke sabre named Valens, furnished simply with the imprint of her emblem on its hilt. It is utilised alongside her other weapon, an automatic carbine named Valentinian, black and silver and also light enough to be used with one hand.

She also owns an SUV that she acquired from a mafia family after a mission.

Specialty: Capable of dealing with enemies both in close combat and mid-range, Gratia's role on Team VGNB (Vignoble) is to draw the attention of Grimm as she cuts swathes through their ranks in her berserk rage. As such, she is quite the durable warrior, and if time passes, she will only grow stronger as her semblance drains away at the energies of her enemies, making her perfect for her position as the 'tank' of the team.

Semblance: Bibere Vinum - Gratia's lust for battle and power is translated into a semblance that allows her to drain the aura of others in the area in order to strengthen her own physical abilities. In particular, her speed, strength, and endurance. The effects compound over time, and thus while they aren't too noticeable in the first few minutes of combat, the longer one fights her and the closer they are in proximity, the stronger Gratia gets.

Following her conversation with her mother on what it meant to be a Huntress and what she meant to those close to her, Gratia's semblance metamorphosed into a new form, gaining an additional ability based upon her existing powers. Her ability to detect and sometimes recognise other lifeforms in the area has become more powerful, allowing her to inject a tiny portion of her own aura into people upon contact, creating a connection between her and her victim that allows her to track and identify them no matter where they go, and will not be broken unless either of them are dead, or if Gratia wishes it to end. It also provides her basic information on the victim's status, such as their health, mood and general condition.

Personality: At first glance, Gratia appears to be quite a solemn figure, impassive and quiet in the majority of situations. Restraint seems to come easily to her, and there is an aura of professionalism that permeates her every action. It would be obvious, then, to assume that she is a rather serious person, one who devotes her very being to work and believes that everything else is a waste of time. In actuality, this is mostly inaccurate. When she speaks it is generally to insult others, particularly her aggravating teammate Napoli, and her speech is peppered with gratuitous swearing.

She is extremely sarcastic and is quick to point out when a situation does not strike her as favourable. She is also rather arrogant and has a haughty sense of pride that dictates her actions. If someone starts annoying her, her impassive aura is quick to drop and Gratia will instead begin with a spewing out insults. However, she is not entirely horrible, being actually fairly kind to those who she deems as respect worthy and more importantly, not annoying. While she is quiet still, she is more than willing to offer them a helping hand on assignments and other problems.

In addition, Gratia possesses a strong sense of loyalty to her loved ones. If you piss her off or take advantage of her friends she will make your life a living hell. Of course, do what you want to her annoying teammates, especially Napoli, she'll only save them at the last minute when they're about to die. And you're not allowed to kill them. She gets to when they screw up.

When in combat, her normally solemn personality completely disappears, replaced by a crazed bloodlust that seems to consume her entire being (and probably those poor Grimm that she'll murder). In this state, it can be quite surprising to listen to her cackle loudly like a hyena as she terrorises her enemies.

Color: Chartreuse Green (66CD00)

Emblem: Gratia's emblem has a certain religious flair to it, with a solid sabre sitting upon a champagne bottle, which is a chartreuse green to contrast the black and grey of the sabre and background.

Appearance:

Source | NarayanK's Interpretation

Standing at a height of one point seven five metres, Gratia is relatively tall for most girls her age, a trait that is magnified by her rock solid posture. With long, flowing brown-black hair, onyx eyes and a well-defined face (though usually seen bland or scowling), and an athletic build, she can be described as rather attractive (though her compatriot-in-arms would argue the opposite), but few dare comment on her appearance in case she takes offence.

Due to her status as a student from Haven, she dons the snazzy uniform of her "beloved" school when attending class, completely unmodified and always super tidy (it comes at a surprise that to many that she is willing to wear the skirt). When outside of class however, she can always be seen with her signature black turtleneck, brown jeans and her green winter coat, which she is highly possessive of (and possibly willing to murder for, though that's a rumour). As a music aficionado, she frequently wears headphones in order to enjoy her smooth jazz and drown out the incessant chatter of her fellows and her teammates in particular.
Name: Galla Mindaro
Age: 15
Gender: Female
Race: Human

Weapon: Steel Construction I-Beam (W18X40)

Specialty: Without needing the use of a semblance, Galla Mindaro possesses a ridiculously immense amount of physical strength, capable of carrying even the heaviest of construction materials with ease. As such, her lightest blows can easily hit as hard as a freight train, sending her targets flying with little effort on her part. Similar to her more infamous older sister, she is incredibly durable, her numerous years of acting as Gratia's training partner having developed her defenses dramatically.

Semblance: Nemo Curat - Galla's apathy and sense of detachment from the world has been translated into a semblance that allows her to essentially detach a part of her own self, preventing it from interacting with the outside world. She can only induce this state in one thing at a time, and if she wishes to stop another part of her self from being observed by reality, she has to first reattach the originally detached part. An example of her semblance in use would be detaching her scent, thereby preventing anybody from smelling her.

Personality: The younger Mindaro sibling possesses a quiet and stoic demeanour, staying impassive in the face of any situation to the extent that one could easily mistake her for a stone statue. Restraint marks her every action, with each lifeless movement utterly lacking in any form of energy or emotion. To Galla, the rest of the world simply isn't important at all, and it is through this lens of utter apathy that she engages with life.

So great is her sense of detachment that absolutely nothing is capable of fazing her. Everything is met with the same bland air, as if there was a distant chasm between her and the rest of the world. She cannot bring herself to care for it, finding little that can stimulate her dulled emotions into responding. At times, it appears as if Galla lacks a presence beyond simply 'existing', seeming more akin to a cardboard cutout than an actual human.

She doesn't see it as a problem in any way.

However, that is not to say that Galla Mindaro is simply an emotionless mannequin that is utterly incapable of being human. The truth is actually the opposite; the younger of the Mindaro sisters is surprisingly empathetic, capable of understanding the feelings, motivations and experiences of other people to a great extent. It does not change her utter lack of interest and care for them, but if the whim were to come to her, she could interact with others with little difficulty.

It is because of this that, despite her eerie detachment, Galla possesses a bond with her family. Although she rarely shows any sign of concern for them, the younger Mindaro acknowledges her parents in their entirety, and it is evident that she respects her older sister in some fashion. She is also not devoid of friends, being able to, even in her bland and uncaring manner, work amicably with a number of her classmates. Whether or not she is a good friend is debatable, especially when she does not exactly care too much for them.

She is also highly observant of her surroundings, whether they be social cues, appearances or the shape of the world. Information is immediately captured and stored in her photographic memory, although much of it fails to affect her in any manner. She holds few opinions on them, but there are times when she does judge, usually through an arbitrary rating system. When taking action, there are also moments where she may seem rather excessive, unaware of whether or not something may be too much.

Galla may or may not have a sense of humour. It's extremely hard to tell.

Color: Chartreuse Yellow (DFFF00)

Emblem: Galla's emblem has traces of religious iconography, with a pitch-black profile of a rooster, one of the holiest animals of the Mistralese Church, imprinted upon a champagne bottle of chartreuse yellow, its brightness a contrast to the colour of the bird.

Appearance:

Source

[User]
Jack Orpheus | Brewing Storm

When he decided to walk through that door, he never went in assuming he'd be safe, that'd be stupid. At the first sign of anything, anything sudden, whether or not it was an enemy or not, he was going to jump right back to the knife he had set. He saw almost what he had expected, fears of some hyper-intelligent Grimm that was luring them was put to rest as he saw someone wounded, he was almost ready to run to save her, but he knew why he stepped into here. There were most certainly Grimm, this fact became much more apparent as soon as he saw the wounded girl.

Although she wasn't the only one there, two Harpy Grimm were already upon her, it was hard to tell what her state was, but as soon as the charged at him, he threw his knife up into the air, and dashed to it, getting past the two Grimm in an instant, before coming down with an aerial counter. These predatory Grimm were brutal, they went for his eyes and legs, most Grimm would simply try and hurt their targets however possible.

Luke took care of one of the Grimm, but Jack took the other, that went for his legs. The fact that it had to go low played well to him, as he landed on top of it, instantly grounding and slamming it on the ground. The lightweight flying Grimm was pinned quite easily, and Jack wasted no time to run his blade across it's neck, silencing it.

"I saw Priscilla in there, she was wounded, but we might still be able to save her", he said. Then there was the matter of the survivors she was with. Looking around, this did not match the room she contacted them from. No comms equipment or anything... The other survivors must be further back.

[Assistant]
Gratia Mindaro – An Old Friend

Bianca laughed. For the first time in a while her lips cracked into a smile and she found herself giggling. "I'd rather you burn the fucking place to the ground." She said looking at her teammate who calmly drove the vehicle.

"I know that I'm not their fucking property." Bianca clutched at her leg like a vice. Her fingers completely pale as they felt as though they may break. "They are not..." Bianca trailed off and swallowed her emotions down deeper. "Forget about me Gratia, focus on your mission." She said shifting in her seat and glancing out the window at Zephyr. It was beautiful this time of year. She glanced in the mirror that hung between Gratia and herself. Looking back at Vitoria's crippled body. She felt glad that Vitoria was in pain. It was wrong to feel that way, but it was how she felt.

"I think my Aura is nearly gone, I'm kinda dizzy too, but once I have a drink I should be fine." Bianca said trying to stick to the essentials with Gratia. She was grateful she had come, and Gratia had been treating Bianca better than she ever could've expected since she'd seen her. But Bianca was a burden. There was no getting around it.

"If you want you can drop me off somewhere, pick me up later. I can figure it out you don't need to wait around for me." She said while absent mindedly rubbing a bruise through her knew dress pants. Her wings, from the minimal movement they already endured, felt like shit.

"Seriously anywhere is fine."

Bianca had always envied Gratia. The two girls had their different strengths and weaknesses – of that there was no doubt. But with Gratia's semblance what had happened to Bianca simply wouldn't have happened to her. She handled Vitoria like Bianca's sister handled a faulty pair of jeans. Discarded on the floor with a look of contempt.

It was something else that was for sure. But beyond any combat abilities Bianca found herself constantly attempting to show Gratia she was worth it. Maybe it had something to do with Bianca finding guilt in her wealth, maybe it was something else but Bianca felt bad about herself. That was the only certainty.

[User]
Gratia Mindaro - An Old Friend

"You are my mission."

She could care less about the Dodici Cosca. They were naught but mere scum; arrogant, ambitious scum with slightly more than two peanuts worth of grey matter to rub together, but they were insects beneath her feet. Pests, an irksome group that merited only irritation and disgust. Gratia would crush them, rip and tear their shambling hulk of a golden tower into utter shreds, leave their locust carcasses scattered into the feed of farm animals. They were the obstacle in her mission. They had hurt Bianca.

Her mission was to save Nuit. To ensure the Faunus girl's safety. The Cosca ... they were sidenotes at best. Her mission parameters had not requested their complete destruction, their humiliation and defeat by her hands. But for their role in kidnapping her teammate ... they would fucking burn.

She would bring that reality to fruition, but for now, she was to keep Nuit safe from whatever fucking asshole dared to drag her back.

Onyx eyes stared unblinkingly back at Bianca.

"I'm not failing this shit because you're too busy sulking pathetically over some perceived uselessness to accept my fucking friendship, birdbrain."

The lights turned green.

Gratia turned away, the SUV rumbling back to life as they began to move again.

"You're going fucking shopping with me. I'm not brooking any arguments otherwise."


[System]
Age: 56
Height: 5'6
Weight: 125
Class: ???
Race: Human

Weapons & Equipment: Manzur Iman carries everything on him to survive. A tent, rope, firestarter, rations, work tools, canteen, pot, spoon, fort, and whatnot. For arms and armors, Manzur has a steel tipped-spear, a decently made wooden shield, an iron helmet, iron boots, and iron chainmail with thick gambeson underneath it all.

Skills and Abilities: The skillset of Manzur Iman is quite direct, if you will. The handling of a spear and shield is one of the most recognizable and easiest to understand for the man. The nuances of it are all known to Manzur - how to properly grip the shaft, use its reach as an advantage, employment of certain stabbing methods to which part of the body, blocking-ways, etc, etc. Likewise, Manzur is very comfortable with brutal close-quarters-combat. The battlefield is no place for fancy and flashy move sets. All it takes is plenty of grit and a straightforward mind.

When it comes to wearing heavy armor, Manzur is good at that too. How it feels to move and walk in it. How its weights on his body. How it affects his movement and whatnot.

Elsewhere, Manzur also contains a fair bit of tactical knowledge. How to properly maneuver formations on a battlefield. How to gauge the front-line formations and call for a rally, if need be. And the subtle details of battlefield communications between him, his subordinates, and formations. Of course, those skills do not apply to the strategy side of things - the actual macro-management of a military force and all of its fine details of military bureaucracy and logistics.

Lastly is carpentry and cooking - two life skills developed during his short-retirement. If you are looking for someone able to cook a decent meal and also make some acceptable woodwork then Manzur can fill that role.

Bio: The underbelly of Roh is home to many people, and one of those people was Manzur Iman - living amongst the downtrodden, poor, and homeless. Driven by the will to survive, Manzur took up many odd jobs and tasks for individuals superior to him in wealth and power. Be that shoveling, mining, rat-trapping, trash disposal, water-carrying, and plenty more - whatever it took to get a meal in that day. This routine, the constant dirty hard labor, and shifting of jobs changed little in its nature. Of course, there was also the occasional crime here and there as it seemed…appropriate by Manzur.

Reaching his late teens, Manzur had an interest in escaping his current conditions. Sadly, he never learned how to read or write, do rhetoric, and the many things required to pursue a decent station. And the constant tit-for-tat scuffles between territorial cliques…Well, let's say that dying in a dank and dark alleyway is not a good way to go. Likewise, dying on a battlefield did not conjure up good images either. But daily food and monthly payment was a good enough convincer for Manzur.

Signed into the armies of Roh, Manzur was rushed into an extremely short period of training before being given the barest of equipment. His job? Grind down the enemy to a pulp in brutal close-quarters-combat. A job with a questionable survival rate for most, and made worse by his dubious arms/armor given to him. With a combination of luck and skill (largely luck), Manzur withstood the hells of war as mere cannon fodder.

From camp to camp, battle to battle, stronghold to stronghold, Manzur marched alongside his brothers in arms - death constantly stalking each corner, to barely miss each opportunity to take away Manzur every time. Manzur had his work cut out for him - ever so slowly rising in notoriety and prestige. Albeit, such fame is not exactly tied to great heroism or anything equally as romanticized.

Given the command of a company, Manzur had the task of clearing out resistance in the Takiyah region and then hold Zafeera Pass. Manzur understood, from various scout reports, that a demon folk army was fast approaching the pass to reinforce those in the Takiyah region. Theorizing, Manzur guessed that if reinforced then the rear-supply lines would be threatened and the main Royal Army ahead entrapped.

In order to not waste time and men, Manzur had no plan to take prisoners or loot. The command was simple - Kill everyone and burn anything. Spare absolutely no one. And just like that, Manzur led his forces in and butchered anyone or thing in his path - supply depots burned, villages destroyed, corpses everywhere. Morally evil, yes. But it did allow Manzur to quickly make way to Zafeera Pass before the demon folk reinforcements came.

Once in Zafeera Pass, Manzur held the path like a stonewall - utilizing the narrow nature of Zafeera to ensure his forces could not be overwhelmed. Brutal melee claimed the lives of many but the demon folk never managed to push out Manzur. In the end, the Zafeera Pass was littered with plenty more corpses. For his part, Manzur was noted to be quite vicious in his kills - a stab to the throat, a slash across the stomach, and other bloody impales.

The victory was gained and rumors quickly gave Manzur a new title - the Butcher of Takiyah and Zafeera. The man who slaughtered all in his way without remorse. A title that Manzur would not really come to enjoy but did use greatly to his advantage. At the end of his three-decade-long service, Manzur retired from his position. Manzur settled down for a good few years before being forced to become a mercenary after a political debacle caused him to have his savings taken away.

It was during his time as a mercenary that Manzur met Cicero Bladewalker. Both men quickly make good company over the years as they went about hunting down demon folk banditry. Things came to an end after a particularly unfortunate ambush in an attempted assassination on Manzur and whoever was with him. An act of revenge against the Butcher and Cicero. Sadly for the demon folk, their plot was cut short. The aftermath only left Manzur and Cicero alive.

Returning to the Royal City, Cicero left home back to Alvion while Manzur continue his merc-work as a grizzled veteran. A new reputation came to Manzur - a title evolution due to his constant bloodshed. The Butcher of Bloodied Sands - a monster of untold brutality as the rumors goes.

[User]
Manzur Iman
Is that Cicero? It must be. The way he swings his sword, the blocking method, the posture, and the footing. Manzur recognizes that fighting style from anywhere. But what the hell is he doing here? It has been ages ever since Cicero left home for Alvion. Well - best save the questions for later.

Climbing down the watchtower, Manzur makes haste toward the strangers and his former barracks of his. The trek across the sand took little time and effort for Manzur to cross - being used to the way that sand interacts with his feet. Once arrived, the man sizes up the Undeath. Nothing more than a rabble of half-decomposed corpses with equally rusted arms and armor.

Without delay, Manzur approaches the undead with spear and shield in hand. Decades of constant bloodshed and combat had done quite the number to Manzur's body - scars and wounds occupying various parts and bits. Thankfully, forty years of experience have allowed Manzur to keep his wits and fighting prowess in tip-top shape.

Now, let's see how these undead fight.

roleplayerguild.com/rolls/23454

[Assistant]
Gwyneria

Gwyneria scowled. No way in hell was she going to let Cicero die here. Not after all that they'd been through. Not after all the times she'd healed his sorry hide! Best way to help him though was to find a way to thin out the undeath, and quickly. There was no water in the desert air though. Icicles wouldn't do the trick. And the undeath likely wouldn't care about light all that much. So within her hands, she formed a fireball then hurled it down within the midst of the undeath horde, away from the immediate area that Cicero was standing his ground.

1d20+2 = 14

[User]
Desert Outpost, Roh
@Cyrania

The creatures continued bombarding Cicero, the knight was doing well to hold them off. A parry here, a thrust there, but it was becoming overwhelming. Just before he was struck, Gwyneria's fireball burned one's torso to ash and set fire to two others.

The veteran soldier charged the undeath courageously. With a deft hand he struck with his spear. Piercing through their zombie flesh. Before they even knew he was there, Manzur had already pierced two of their heads. They immediately sunk to the ground motionless.

Cicero spotted his old friend through the darkness. The light of Gwyneria's fire illuminating the immediate area. "Manzur! I feared you had joined your comrades to the grave!" Cicero continued hacking and slashing at his enemies vulnerable points. 1d20+2=15, SuccessTwo other undeath fell. 6 remained.
How would Gwyneria and Manzur continue?

[Assistant]
Manzur Iman
Speaking in his usual gruffed voice, Manzur responds to an old friend. "Good to meet you too." - having just exchanged pleasantries while stabbing the heads of two walking corpses. Walking over their truly lifeless bodies, Manzur pushes forward with his assault - blocking various strikes and blows from multiple angles.

The melee continues as Manzur does what he knows best, to kill and maim. A job that does not need much of an explanation in its details. A stab there, a shield push forward, a block here, and a jab elsewhere. Aside from the active combat, a few questions are being raised in the mind of Manzur. Who the hell would go to the trouble of turning his former comrades into walking corpses?

A solid question to ask after these damn undead are well…dead.

roleplayerguild.com/rolls/23480

[User]
Gwyneria

Gwyn grinned triumphantly. Got them! Now to just help with the remaining six...At least Cicero seems to have found a friend. She powered up another fireball, looking for where she could aim. The light from the last one helped luminate where they were better, though the new friend made it a bit more of a gamble of how it could go. Time was of the essence here though. One more good fireball, then she could start saving her energy by shooting arrows. Taking careful aim, she let loose towards where the undeath were thickest.

1d20 + 2 = 8

[Assistant]
Desert Outpost, Roh
@Cyrania

Gwyn's flame missed as the undeath moved right before it hit. A ball of fire burst in the sands erupting in a cloud of dust. However, the two undeath that were aflame from before had caught fire to two others! They ran off and collapsed into the sand.

Manzur, however lined his foes up opposite with Cicero. At just the precise moment he lunged with his spear and impaled two of the undeath through at once! Their heads popped like melons at his swift strike. Afterward, he lunged backwards in time to retract his weapon. An undeath leaped at him, but narrowly missed. Manzur stuck his spear through the fiend and into the ground. It growled one last time before it went silent.

13+2=15, SuccessCicero bashed his opponent with his shield and lopped its head with a strike. Suddenly, the only sound to be heard was the crackling of flames in the night. The stench of burning, rotted corpses wafted the air. Cicero looked up to Gwyn and called out, "He's a friend! Come on down." Cicero wiped his brow and thanked his compatriot, "It's been some time, old friend. Tell me. what happened here?"  He reached out to clasp Manzur's right arm in a familiar greeting as he spoke.

[User]
Manzur welcomes Cicero's hand as both men firmly shake hands - letting go after a few seconds. "Demonfolk killed everyone," Manzur says in a straightway fashion, befitting his stolid mannerisms. Manzur bushes off dust and grime from his spear tip with the leather side of his gauntlet as he mourns the death of his comrades quietly to himself.

After that, Manzur points back to his own watchtower off in the distance. "There, a friend, demonfolk. Been with me for a time," Manzur quickly fires off, speaking in a broken sentence structure so as to not waste time on his end. Manzur rests his spear on top of his shoulder and relaxes his shield position - looking towards Cicero and then Gwyn for answers of their own.


[System]
Age: 18

Gender: Male

Race: Human

Weapon: Fists. Send help.

Crow's Beak: Crow's Beak is, at its core, an alternative form of the ubiquitous poleaxe-- a Lucerne Hammer. Also known as a Bec de Corbin (from which the moniker 'Crow's Beak' has been derived), this weapon is characterized by the four-pronged hammer at its head, curved spike upon the opposite side (the eponymous "beak"), and an even longer spike that extends from the top of the haft.

In the case of Crow's Beak, the shaft of the weapon is long and sturdy, extending well above his head at six feet even. Rather than one solid unit, though, the bottom half twists off into a semi-automatic shotgun, providing Luke with some now sorely needed ranged offense, whist the top half simply maintains its original function as a slightly long-handled warhammer. Finally, the aforementioned, sole piece of carryover his original weapon comes in the form of that topmost spike, now a thin yet sturdy coil of steel that retains the stabbing capabilities of the classical design whilst gaining an additional boring (as in the ability to bore through something) utility, in case sturdy armor should be encountered that he cannot simply smash, shoot, or stab through.

Specialty: Close-Quarters Combat, with a focus on all aspects of unarmed fighting as well as simply outlasting opponents through sheer guts and an advantageous semblance. Not a tank so much as a sponge, and not the tip of the spear so much as the glue keeping everything else in one piece. Soon to begin working on middling and longer ranges.

Semblance: Healing Blood: Rather than focusing primarily on the defensive, shield-like capabilities that most Auric individuals come to take almost for granted, Luke's semblance causes it to take an almost entirely different route when dealing with physical trauma— rather than outright absorption and nullification, his aura instead fuels massively overdriven levels of healing. In essence, rather than stack up defenses, Luke's method of survival is always being able to get back up for more after something flays him alive. While still tougher than a normal human by leaps and bounds, you're more likely to see him spilling blood than any other Hunter. This is, in actuality, not quite a bad thing— that same aura-charged blood, when in contact with another's wounds, will impart similarly accelerated restorative effects until it evaporates. In a way, it befits him: To be knocked down seven times means you must stand up eight, and to help others means you must be willing to invite harm upon yourself.

Personality: Luke is a person that can be described, plainly put, as "selfless to a fault". Driven by a deep-seated sense of justice and desire to become a hero, all it usually takes for him to want to step in and help someone is a moment of weakness, or the sign of someone being in need— something he often denigrates as him just being nosy and incapable of leaving well enough alone when he takes issue with something. That same sense of self-deprecation colors a good portion of his self-esteem; he has pride like any other guy, and will stand up for himself if under what he deems as undeserved attack, but his admiration for those he is surrounded by far outweighs that which he holds for himself. Prone to monologuing in his own head, he is a natural conversationalist even in spite of his status as a "recovering pariah", equally capable in the roles of both straight man and wise guy. This is why, to some, he may seem like a simply good-natured, friendly young man with a keen ability to laugh at himself— rather than the fairly melancholic and snarky, if permissive fellow lying beneath the surface. In some ways he's a walking contradiction, being silly and sober in the same breath— just as he values and preaches safety overmuch for someone almost suicidally willing to rush into danger for the sake of another. Too smart to ignore his faults and too dense to acknowledge his virtues, "selfless" really does fit the bill— for the value he places upon himself can be practically nonexistent.

Color: Black Hole

Emblem:

Appearance:

A bit on the short side, at 5'7. Athletic physique, as is the standard for those putting themselves through the type of physical training necessary to even think of becoming a hunter, if on the slimmer side of things. Interestingly, that little hair-antenna seems to be some form of indicator of his emotional state, easily as expressive as the rest of him, gray eyes included. Tends to like hoodies, sneakers, and jeans or khakis whenever not in uniform. Hailing from a town in the mountains near the northern tip of Vale as he does, even the long days spent outdoors hiking and training in preparation for his enrollment at the academy haven't done much to change his medium complexion, and his relatively long and straight black hair makes for good insulation in the wintertime.

[User]
Amaranth Desire, Brewing Storm:  Suddenly there came a tapping, as of someone gently rapping...

About to respond to Lucas, Amy suddenly paused and held up her hand, ears straining-- A clatter as the Fury's left arm fanned out into a shield, Amy's feathers standing up slightly as she faced the environment around them. She hadn't released her weapon yet, no, and her voice was calm when she spoke even as her eyes searched for any sign of movement from their surroundings.

"Uh, Cap? I know you're busy with the door and all, but there's some kinda thumping coming from... A lot of places around here. Very quiet thumping."

Just then, the "phone" started buzzing. "Are you going to answer?"

[Assistant]
Kiran Ali Khan - Greeting the New Recruit

For the hunter known as Kiran Ali Khan, today was a day fraught with mixed emotions. On the one hand, today was the day Naoko had departed from Beacon, off to join in a new adventure as a part of the Senior Cultural Exchange program. An adventure that Kiran and the rest of the team, unfortunately could not join him on. Seeing his teammate, his friend, his brother of the past 4 years off, had been a somber affair. But they all knew that the Naoko's upcoming journey was for the best, after all, new lands promised new growth and new adventure. As his friend, leader and fellow hunter, Kiran knew he had no right to try and restrain the lad for his own selfish desires. So instead he saw his teammate off with a smile, and a parting joke about their upcoming Smash rematch. They would meet again, and when they did it would be after another year of growth.

Kiran looked forward to seeing the results.

Now however, Kiran was off another mission. In contrast to the somber mood of the morning, this particular event was fraught with anticipation and excitement. Naoko's exchange student was due to arrive by airship any moment now and Kiran looked forward to meeting a new friend. After all, when life closes a window, it opens up a new door, and the opportunity to embrace that new path greatly fascinated Kiran. He was a hunter after all, adapting and making the most one's current situation was an integral part of the job.

The profile Ozpin had sent to Kiran's scroll was definitely intriguing. Evidently she had a similar skill set as their team's resident pretty boy, albeit thankfully she had far less of an inclination towards fire. Heaven knows they could ill afford to cause even greater collateral damage. Glynda was still angry about the arena, which was merely compounded on top of her anger at the stray Goliath mission. Suffice to say, KNVS wasn't in the greatest position when it came towards leniency towards collateral damage.

Other than her weapons and the fighting reports, Kiran had little else to base his expectations on. In particular he completely lacked knowledge on how their new teammate conducted herself. Still, he supposed that was for the best, one should also reserve any judgement and impressions until all the facts have become clear. Jumping to conclusions about his new teammate before she even arrived was poor form and bound to only lead towards greater misfortune.

Interrupting the hunter's thoughts, the airship finally touched down. From the moment the doors opened, Kiran's eyes started scanning the departing crowd, searching for the huntress whose picture was pulled upon his scroll. It didn't take long for him to spot her abnormally messy hair, even if she was rather short.

After his new teammate had separated from the crowd, Kiran rapidly closed the distance before offering out a hand in greeting. "Miss Noëlle Chrysos correct? Pleasure to meet you, my name is Kiran Ali Khan. I am one of your new teammates and the leader of team KNVS. Unfortunately, as much as I'd love to sit down and spend the time to make your acquaintance, I'm afraid we'll have to rush things a bit. We're currently in the process of departing on our newest mission, so we don't really have much in the way of time to converse. I'm truly sorry."

Kiran explained as an apology, before gesturing in the direction of another airship. "If you wouldn't mind, I'd appreciate it if you would join us. I've always found the heat of battle to be a rather informative time to learn more about one another. You can leave your bags on the ship for now, we'll be flying back on the same ship, and feel free to take it easy on your first day, I understand that jet lag can be rather debilitating."

"So," Kiran began, "What do you say? Our other two teammates, Varius and Taidan, are currently waiting for us. How does jumping straight into the action sound?"

[User]
Luke Schwarz -- At a Crossroads

Answer.
Answer.
Answer.

Those don't flash, unless...

He grimaced quietly, eyeing the flashing as his mind ran through the short, short list of implications it could come up with. In effect, one. Someone within the facility was trying to establish communication with the outside, and they couldn't be Grimm. No Grimm were so intelligent as to come up with a "plan" in the first place, right? Let alone one that required such abstract thought as baiting Hunters in with explicitly Human-made system. While undoubtedly something based off Nightmarish-looking things like Anglerfish or sinister folklore such as Will o' Wisps was out there, nothing that understood distress signals!

And then there was that thumping Amy mentioned...

Morse code?

He strained his ears to no avail, only getting close enough to get a passing feeling that something was just out of the range he could hear. Meaning, nothing concrete enough to work off of. Possibly only a placebo effect. Not trustworthy in these situations.

"That light has to be someone calling for help, right? Shouldn't we answer it?" he asked in a low murmur, mindful of the Hawk Faunus's heightened senses even as he scanned a particular section of the right of the group.

While he wasn't the Leader of either team, and arguably had some of the least authority here, he still couldn't help but give his two cents, even if they were in the more palatable form of a question as opposed to a direct statement. Not wanting to overstep his bounds, however, he held his tongue beyond that until further notice.


[System]
Talent: improvisational engineer. Can make anything out of everything

Gender: Female

Age: 19

Appearance:

Eyes: Blue
Hair: Silver/ White
Skin: Slightly pale
Posture: Not thin but also not fat you could say that she has a rather normal body for girls her age
Height: 1m68
Weight: 56 kg

Some facts about her
(you may find some faults in my English and I'm sorry about that. Just let me know!)

-She loves to read books. Most of the time she reads books about how things are built in this world and about science. Besides those kinds of books, she reads the genres: Romance, mystery, fantasy and adventure books.

-She listens to classical music most off all piano and violin.

-Sometimes you could find her at night, outside. Just admiring the night sky and the moon. You could say she is a night owl

-You can mostly find her in places with a nice view.

-When she gets embarrassed, she would just play with the ends of her white hair and eventually, she would hide her face behind her hands(side note: she never dyed her hair it's natural). When you would sit next to her, she would just crawl up lightly not too much and then hide her face XD

-She loves sweets. Her favorite dishes are Curry rice, Shabu Shabu, Yakitori, Hayashi Raisu… You could say she loves meat and the Japanese kitchen!

Personality:

Because of her back story, she is rather shy and won't talk to you unless you talk to her first. Gets embarrassed fast when you compliment her. Once you get to know her she is a really sweet girl, she would try to make you happy and protect you but in her own way that is. Once you become her friend, she will make sure that you would stay by her side because she would fear that she will be all alone once again. But she won't do it in a forcible or bad way just with words.

Backstory:

When she was at the age of 6, starting in a new school for the first time. Not happy, not sad nor excited she went to her first day at school. Once all the kids were in class they introduced each other, Yukimori was shy and when it was her turn, she was rather quiet. And there it all started after a few months going to school Yukimori created this lifestyle of sitting alone and doing her own thing. Her classmates didn't hate her or disliked her, they didn't pay much attention to her because of how quiet she was, most of the time they forget her. Not with bad intentions, she didn't jump out enough to get noticed. Her parents were too busy with work and most of the time she was home alone. When her parents were at home, she got either ignored or they asked her to do things in the house, most likely the same as in school. One year passed, and she went to a higher class she noticed things she normally didn't. One day she sat in class and played with some pens and elastics she had in her pencil case, and without knowing she built a little paper plane that could fly for a long time driven with a small but simple motor she made of a pencil and elastic. And so she built more at home, read books about how things worked. Once she went to high school, she studied science. One day a big industry noticed her and asked her if she wanted to create a small door unlocker and an alarm disabler for police uses. After a week she created a machine build of old scrap and an old computer, they were surprised what this girl could do at the age of 15. When she was at the end of high school, she got a letter with a big logo on it that she saw somewhere before….Hope's peak Academy noticed her….

[User]
Monokuma stretched his arms out and leaned forward, barking "How rude! First you all accuse me of murder, and now I'm being interrogated!" at Aurel. The robotic counselor's face was red with fury, his fangs bearing for all to see.

"I want to know too." Ayu muttered. "Monokuma... would you please answer?"

The bear sighed and slumped his shoulders. He looked dejected. "Oh well... I suppose I have no choice if I want to keep this a fair trial. Listen up real good, I'm only saying it once!" their counselor shouted, bringing both hands to the front of his mouth. He explained that "The body discovery announcement will only play once three people have seen the body." To add to that, Monokuma also said "I don't care if the last person to see it was a day late, or if they stumble on it by accident! Only once three of you campers have seen it, and not a second sooner, I'll play the announcement."

Chikako, who'd been silent up to now, piped up to enter her own opinion. "Wait, but what about the killer? Don't they see the body first?" she asked, slamming her hands down on the stand in front of her like she was saying 'Gotcha!' to Monokuma. The bear snickered in response.

"Puhuhu... of course that doesn't count. Buuuut... if the killer were to lead two people to the corpse with them, I'll be nice and play it anyway. I wouldn't want to make it too obvious who the murderer is, after all..."

"Great question, Aurel. Now we're exactly 0 steps closer to solving this." Momoe sneered at Aurel.

"Ryuma got there first... if you count Snow, that makes two," Taka interjected, paused for a moment to swallow, then continued: "and I arrived a little later. I heard it play shortly after I saw Naomi, so the bear's not lying." He looked pale as he said it, and his face tensed up. He started to mumble to himself. "S-Shit... what kind of sick freak does that...?!"

"Maybe Taka did it. I mean, look at him! And he wanted to pin it on Snow, too!" Chikako wildly accused. Taka snapped out of his funk.

"H-Hey, piss off! I didn't do it!"

[Assistant]
Hamazura Ginshi[Super Highschool Level Judo Master]

This was surely a tough situation for Genshi Hamazura. Well, that could be said the same for everyone else involved in this cruel master plan. Yet he knew well there was no use in fretting over his misfortune. All he could do as always was follow along the path that had been ingrained in his soul.
"We can't lose control over our minds just yet, friends. If everyone else will be doing what they can to solve this mystery, I will too,"  Genshi stated with vigor in his voice. He wasn't an attorney or detective by any means. In fact, his area of expertise laid in the more physical area. Though perhaps something could be gained from it.
"We just need to shift our perspectives. Like the multiple paths of a river, I'm sure we'll find our destination somewhere. For example, the removal of that lock in the door. I haven't seen it myself, but how exactly did it happen?"

Ginshi shifted his attention over to a certain someone. That someone, being Aurel. A smile spread across the martial artist's face, it wasn't one filled with malice, but rather with it's usual confidence."Aurel, what do you think? I'm sure as The Super Highschool-Level Thief, you'd have a good idea as to how someone could sneak into a room. I'd like to hear your opinion on that."

[User]
Aurel Fuchs // Hisakawa Hiroki

---

Location:: Courtroom
Aurels Interactions:: Chikako, Taka (@Ammokkx), Ginshi (@KenjuGuy)
Hisakawas Interactions:: Aurel (@Savo), Ginshi (@KenjuGuy)

---

"... no, that isn't it."

Aurel spoke up, barely above a whisper, snapping his fingers before pointing it at Chikako, momentarily before being cut off by Ginshi, causing the thief to retract his arm back instantly, as if he was flinching. He could wait, he suppose, fidgeting around for a moment as he made his own proclamation before turning the spotlight back to the thief.

"Huh?" With a gulp, Aurel held a fist to his mouth and cleared his throat, "Uhm, I mean, I c-can answer that in a sec', but let me finish addressing this whole debacle we have first." With a sigh, he returned his gaze over to Chikako before pointing at her.

"Anyways, it's impossible for Taka to be the killer, same goes for Snow and Ryuma; those statements Monokuma make that abundantly clear" Aurel crossed one arm across his chest while resting his elbow on his hand, pressing his middle and index fingers against the bridge of his nose, humming to himself.

"I mean, I see where you're going with this Aurel. Taka wouldn't count since Monokuma stated that the killer needs to lead two people with them to the corpse; Taka only lead Ryuma."

"Precisely, but it's a lot more than that," he rapped and tapped at the bridge of his nose with both of his fingers for a moment, before extending his arm out, palms open, "I can infer Monokuma just came up with the rule as well. Even if he didn't, no one knew about this rule making it nigh impossible for anyone to take advantage of it."

With a sigh, Aurel looked down at the monitor crossing his arms once more and tapping the side of it, "So yeah. Unless anyone disagrees with this assessment, I believe we are three steps closer to determining who murdered Naomi."

---

"Well, you do kind of has a good point," Hisakawa uttered, scratching the back of his neck while pointing at the thief, "but anyways, with that out of the way, at least for now, mind answering Ginshi's question?"

"Uh, sure," Hisakawa watched as the thief bobbed his head up and now, rapping his fingers on the side of the podium as he stared down at the monitors. He could only watch Aurel with a scrutinizing intent, squinting at him as he tapped the bottom of his chin.

"It's just as Yukimori said, it was yanked out, not very cleanly I m-might add. It's less sneaking and more brute forcing the door open. They probably did it using a crowbar or something, but I'm not entirely sure."

And with that, the emotionless thief came to a close, almost looking blankly at all of them. Hisakawa sighed; outside of noticing a bit of nervousness, there was nothing to glean from this, besides whatever he inferred. Shrugging, he ruffled his hair before extending an arm out, "Maybe we should move on from the door for now? As far as we know someone broke in by force, but we aren't completely sure how they might of done it, or how long it might of took."

Suddenly he snapped his fingers before looking around and sheepishly retracting them, "Er, maybe establishing the time she was murdered might give us more ideas about the time-frame it took to break in? I mean, thats been on my mind for a while and I might have an idea of the time, but want to hear your guys opinions first."

[Assistant]
She nodded slightly at Ginshi's statement about the fact that they can't lose control now, this wasn't the time to just randomly accuse people of murdering someone. We have to find the real killer together even if they have to go through the lies, tips, and mistakes of the real killer. It didn't occur to her sooner that Aurel, the ultimate Thief, would know more about this lock or at least give them some kind of detail they would have missed and could be of great help for the investigation.

After the small discussion about the fact if Taka killed Noami or not she cleared her throat a little before speaking up. "If you don't mind me coming in between your conversations." straightening her back and adjusting her skirt a little to calm her nerves for speaking up she continued. "We can already confirm that Snow, Taka nor Ryuma have a possibility of killing Noami if I heard it correctly that is… Only leaving 12 of us that could have killed her."

Her big blue eyes focused on Hisakawa as he talked about the time where the murder could have occurred. "Let's see… I'm sure this happened during the nighttime. Since our Monopad says that the time of death was probably between 10:00 PM and 7:00 AM, the beginning and end of nighttime." She glanced over to Monokuma for confirmation but kept her focus on the investigation when she came up with a small solution to find more information about the time of death.

"I want to propose something to all of you. What if we start by telling each other what we did during that time… This may sound super silly and obvious, you may think, 'Yeah sure Yukimori, but the killer could lie about what they did during that time?'"

She sighed and continued "Yes, I know. I thought about that too, believe me. This is where the handcuffs come in handy… they have partnered us all up with someone right? Leaving us alone with that person for a whole day, besides the 20 minutes you could unlock the handcuffs. That time resets during nighttime… So going over who used their 20 minutes that day won't be useful. But what might be is a small sketch of what you did during nighttime and if you noticed anything weird about your partner or things around you that might help us further with the investigation."

With this, she grabbed her chest lightly, while she breathed out calmly. Hoping that this would be helpful otherwise she just pulled all her courage together to give this speech for what? Nothing... At least she tried, right?


[System]
* Age: 8, though physically she appears to be 15.
* Gender: Female
* Appearance: "..." Thanks a whole lot, @Rin!
* Personality: "Shi" is very quiet. Looking at her, the natural assumption from her behavior would be that she is totally lacking in emotion. She rarely expresses herself in any fashion and her face rarely changes. Indeed, it seems as if she has no emotions and no ability to express them even if she did. However, this is not, in fact, the truth. "Shi" is indeed not one to express her emotions, but she does possess them. In spite of her nature as a living being designed to be a weapon, "Shi" enjoys reading and has a liking for cats. She is also very shy, having difficulties speaking with anyone aside from her creator or their associates. Even then, she struggles to speak freely and tends to fall into stuttering silence. She is easily flustered as well. "Shi", in spite of these less than threatening traits, kills with absolute zero hesitation. While she may question why internally, it is the purpose she was created for.
* Abilities: "Shi" has limited magical abilities. This is intentional to avoid her being too versatile and therefore having a chance at somehow turning on her creators. Her affinity, as programmed into her body, is Air. Her spells are strictly limited and she is unable to learn more. Among them is a spell(Jet Point) to place a "jet" on the back of a projectile in order to make it move more quickly. Properly utilized this can even be applied to bullets. She is also capable of using displacement, though the object she is displacing must be "tagged" along with the location she is displacing it to. She can also use various spells to increase the penetration of both bullets and knives, supernatural enhancement to reinforce her attacks, and the usage of minor illusion spells in an attempt to hide her presence. The illusions can be pierced by magical interference relatively easily. She is also highly agile.
* Skills: "Shi" is a highly capable assassin. She is instinctively good at stealth, instinctively capable in hand-to-hand takedowns, and instinctively able to utilize various forms of weaponry. However, she is not especially strong, which is why she uses weaponry or takedowns at close range. She is an excellent shot, but due to her low magic capabilities she generally must retreat to avoid being incapacitated or killed if she becomes caught in a fight with a capable magi. Without the element of surprise, her tactics become less effective.
* Equipment: "Shi" carries on her person a set of knives and a pistol, along with relevant ammunition. She also possesses an enormous sniper rifle. It is a custom-made behemoth of a weapon, measuring a total of five feet in length and therefore being longer than she is tall. She also has access to a wide number of small explosives and some chalk to use for spells.
* Brief Backstory: Number Four, referred to as "Shi", was the fourth attempt to create an assassin homunculus designed to covertly eliminate participants in the battle for the White Night of Klarsberg. Her predecessors either failed to properly awaken or were eliminated due to improper "programming". Her body was formed at seven years old, and she was "programmed" to be absolutely without mercy towards her targets regardless of their nature. She was treated as a weapon, and little more, though her creator did give her something other then cold indifference at times. When she performed drills and practiced magic effectively, she would be rewarded, and this became the only life she knew. Even when treated with affection she was still a weapon. Even when her creator was at her kindest and most regretful for the fate of "Shi"'s predecessors, the same did not hold true for her associates, who treated the homunculus as a thing who existed only to destroy those who would do battle for the White Night and afterwards would be discarded. Her creator was even colder at times. In spite of this, "Shi" listens to her creator, and even those supporting her who treat her as nothing more then a weapon, without fail. And so she has been sent to kill all of the other participants in the battle. Every single one. Witnesses, too, are to be eliminated.

[User]
Drasinian

As the Nun walked away, Drasinian merely smiled and waved as she passed, not bothered at all by her words or tone. No matter what she said, it didn't make her any less like the prey she was. Once she was gone from his sight, he walked off a ways until he found an alley to walk down. Here is where he planned to prep his tracking of his options of prey, as he still wasn't sure of who he should hunt, when he found himself looking on the scene of assault as three men seemed to be encroaching on a lone woman, the shine of a knife in the hands of one. He stared, wondering whether he should walk on by or kill the lot of them, when the choice was made for him. One of the men noticed the lone figure standing a ways behind them and turned around to draw a gun.

Only to find that Drasinian was suddenly right next to him, grabbing his wrist pin a crushing grip. The man let out a yelp of pain, before the homunculi took his hand and slammed it into the man's throat, closing his windpipe and leaving him to choke to death on the ground. With as much for as Drasinian had put into that strike, he wasn't getting back up. The other two mugger's, now aware of his presence, turned around to take him down, only to find him already taking down another man by launching a knee into his sternum with enough force to crush it. Tossing him aside before the man could bark any blood on him, he easily evaded the blow of the man with a knife, turning around to stare at him, a his face as he launched himself forward, grabbing the man's head and slamming it into the ground. He'd do it two more times after the first, just to make sure that the man was dead, before turning towards the woman.

She sat there, looking at the man in front of her with a look of terror as he brought his bloodied hand to his lips in a shushing motion, taking a slow, predatory walk towards her. This seemed to bring her out of her fear-drvien silence as she prepared to scream, only to have a gargling moan come out instead as Drasinian opened up one of his storage places and pulled out a throwing knife, silencing her with a flick of his wrist.

"Well, that was no fun, but I'm not feeling like playing with toys right now. And I also should get rid of the bodies, shouldn't I? Tch, guess the dove and her friends get away . . . for now, at least." With a sigh, Drasinian took to picking up the bodies and putting them into a new pocket dimension, also using a pocket dimension to clean up all the blood(via opening it up, making it so that it's a vacuum on the inside, and simply sucking it all up). Once that was done, he took a bit of a walk from the area until he found an empty space in-between some buildings that seem uninhabited, for the moment anyway. Walking over to the Dumpster, he opened the lid and snapped his fingers, dropping all the bodies and the blood inside, before slamming the lid closed.

"There, that should do. Should be funny trying to if the police can work this one out." He'd been sure to wear some gloves while he worked, as he always had some on hand in a pocket dimension in case he need to do quick removal of some evidence. Damn forensics, makes killing a lot more annoying than it has any right to be.

[Assistant]
Osamu, hungry but still dedicated to his 'sentry duty', kept looking around, using his Stellar Sight to zoom in anything that looked suspicious. He decided not to complain anymore, because 'Ichijouji-sama' would be proud of him if he kept to his job. Besides, something was going to happen soon, right?

Well, something did happen, as a black-haired, red-eyed man - unless those were contacts, that was not a natural eye color - just went to a nearby dumpster and conjured up several dead bodies, which he just dropped into the trash bin. Quickly, Osamu ran through his encyclopediac knowledge of spells that can make dead bodies appear out of thin air. Conjuration? Wait, no, why go to the trouble of creating dead bodies just to dump - that was stupid! No, it must be some sort of spatial magic. Either way, that man was probably a Mage, and he just killed people who, judging from their clothing, were civilians. This cannot be allowed; Osamu knew what he should do...pull out his phone and contact Ken Ichijouji.

Ichijouji-sama, he texted, Use of Magic against Civilians Recorded at Sector 17 of Rokuro City; possible culprit is a Mage. He then activated a special app on his smartphone that signalled his location to all Ministry of Silence members.

Now, he can move to engage.

Creating an Arrow of Light, Osamu fired it at the mysterious man, who was presumably walking away. He wasn't taking any chances; it was a Fatal version of Saggita Luminis. Then, after that, he fired an arrow at a nearby fire escape, destroying it and thus denying the new enemy an avenue to get up at him. After that, he would fire three more arrows at the homonculus - not that he knew he was a homonculus - which were also fatal.

[User]
Hiroko Muneyama - Takaki's Ramen Shop

"Yeah, Rokuro's a pretty nice place," Hiroko said as she leaned back in her seat, watching the store owner leave after taking Asami's order. Poor Sayuri always seemed so jittery whenever she saw her... But she was a good girl, and damn did she know how to make good ramen. Hiroko wished she'd learn to calm down a bit, really, but as long as she was happy it didn't worry her too much. "Especially Takaki's. Best ramen I've ever had. Don't mind Sayuri, though, she's always like that."

With a yawn, the blonde stretched her arms. It had been a long day, after all, and she needed to unwind a bit; that's why she'd headed to Takaki's, after all. Really, she hoped nothing too... Strenuous came up soon.

"Must be nice to see your friends, I guess. Mine are all out of town right now," Hiroko's stern features tightened ever so slightly in what could be taken as a frown if you focused hard enough. "Just be careful out there, okay? Things have been getting a bit rough lately; nothing the cops can't handle but I'd hate to see someone like you on the receiving end of some of it."

[Assistant]
Ando Asami, Closer to the Origin?

Asami quietly listened to Hiroko talk for a few moments. Well, the smell alone had told the redheaded girl that Takaki's was a rather excellent ramen shop. It was what made her come there in the first place. The owner was a bit jittery? She'd noticed, though she hadn't been sure if it was because of how crowded it was or if it was because of anything else. But now that she got a good look at the brunette, it did seem like she kept nervously looking over at their table. Maybe she was worried about getting their orders done soon? Well, it didn't matter too much.

Asami leaned forward a little when she heard Hiroko mention that things had been rougher in Rokuro recently. Well, she could guess at why that was, at least to some extent. Though she couldn't be sure, it was hard to deny that things would get a bit rougher... But Asami was certain that she could keep mundane people out of it. Those who were unaware of the supernatural shouldn't have any involvement in a conflict solely between magi.

"It's been really nice getting to see my friends again, yeah," said Asami, with a smile, before leaning back in her seat and putting her hands behind her head. This was a little relaxing, really... Not that it made her forget what was rapidly approaching. "Don't worry about me, though. I'll be careful, and I can handle myself."

It was about then that Sayuri approached, and, after some hesitation, presented both of them with steaming bowls of pork ramen. The smell, and the sight of the perfectly brown broth, meat, and noodles, just made Asami hungrier.

"Um... here's your meal! I, er, hope you enjoy it, Muneyama-san... um, and you too, valued customer!" After a few moments of silence, Sayuri rubbed the back of her head nervously, "... Sorry, I don't know your name and all... But I hope you enjoy it!"

Before Asami could reply, Sayuri had already hurried off. Asami looked after her for a moment, and then shrugged.

"... Well... let's eat," she said, before promptly digging in. It was, in fact, delicious.

[User]
"That's a nice name, Nakano-chan," Kazumi smiled encouragingly at Shiori. If she was willing to give out her name, then there was still hope for the girl. Being a londer was fine and all, but this girl seemed allergic to social activity in general. Cute to watch, but she was probably screaming internally right now.

Still, if her home wasn't far, then Shiori wouldn't need to suffer her presence much longer. Still, they had to fill up the rest of the time, and it'd be quite rude to just return to her blog right now... but what exactly could they talk about for the next few minutes? After some pondering, Kazumi figured the book in the albino's hands was slightly more interesting than the weather.

"So, what're you reading, there?" Kazumi asked, maintaining her polite smile.

[Assistant]
Shi, the Quiet Killer

Shi's fingers tightened and loosened on her book as she breathed, her nervousness still causing her tiny frame to shudder. Kazumi liked her name? But it wasn't real, even if she didn't know that why did she like it? Shi would always be Shi. Number Four. So why would anyone like a name that wasn't real? Regardless, her crimson eyes remained on the taller girl for a few moments, before they traveled downwards and fixed on the ground. It wasn't too much further...

And then Kazumi asked about her book.

Conflict filled Shi's mind. Someone was interested in her book. She felt some small amount of excitement at the prospect, her adoration of reading making the idea of someone wanting to know what she read a pleasant prospect. But then... she'd have to try and talk to her, wouldn't she...?

After some fidgeting and silence, Shi figured out a solution. Slowly, blushing, she raised her book and turned it until the front cover faced Kazumi. On the cover, a girl with pink hair and eyes in a white-and pink, frilled dress struck a pose with a rapier, sporting a cat-eared headband and a cat sitting on shoulder. Beneath the girl was the words 'Cat Panic'.

Shi stopped in her tracks shortly afterwards, realizing they'd arrived. Her current home was small, probably one of the smaller homes in Rokuro. It wasn't exactly the nicest, either, dully colored and looking rather shabby. It served entirely as a safehouse, though it wouldn't be easy to tell such a fact by looking at it.