[System]
Species: Human
Age: 40

Description:
Ajax is an olive skinned and tanned man who stands at 6 feet 4 inches and weighs around 300 pounds. A thick, muscle bound figure with powerful, sinewy arms and robust legs which end in burly hands and feet and a log-like neck that holds up a head as large as the rest of his body, with a prominent jaw and chin as well as dark brown eyes, short, curly black hair and a thick but not overly long beard, he bears a more than passing resemblance to the real-life Boxer of Quirinal, except far more muscular, with a build closely resembling that of a powerlifter or strongman competitor.

Thanks to his less than healthy lifestyle, Ajax is a mess to look at. He is scarred from head to toe, his eyes are sunken, his nose squashed and slightly deviated, he has cauliflower ears and his hands, forearms, elbows, knees, shins and feet are covered in extremely thick and rough calluses, giving them a leathery, bumpy look. Ajax's clothing is a loose white robe called a doric chiton, that he keeps strapped to his left shoulder with a pin and extends past his waist, ending just above the knees. Ajax also wears brown leather, hobnailed, sandal-like boots called caligae.

Personality:
Ajax is a fairly merry man, fond of living a life full of excitement and action and can be fairly easy to get along with as he is giving, loyal, honest and straightforward, seeing greed, deceit and treachery as marks of weakness. Conversely, he's also kind of nuts. He says what's on his mind no matter the situation, is knowingly offensive to others and enjoys fighting to a mind-boggling degree. Smashing things to bits seems to be his main solution to any problem, too, and he has no qualms in instigating fights or escalating them when a couple words would be enough to defuse a potentially dangerous situation.

Ajax has a great distaste for magic and religion and will act rather condescending to anyone who relies overmuch on these, even worse if they try to lord these things over him or otherwise try to make him see their way. It's not enough to bring him to violence but he sees over-reliance on magic or the intervention of higher forces as a queer path in life. Why credit the gods with your achievements, why rely on some mystic force you can barely comprehend when you could achieve this on the strength of your back? He feels much the same towards those who take their status as nobles as somehow making them intrinsically superior to others.

Ajax has a fairly complex world view based on strength, self-reliance and personal growth. He feels the strong come to rule the weak, but that strength isn't limited to physical strength or martial power and that the weak should, in turn, grow strong and strive for greater things in life, never letting themselves be crushed underfoot. He relishes the freedom necessary for such a growth and will readily help others to attain it, just as long as they actually put the effort to grow themselves, though his efforts can come across as him just being rather mean. He is especially harsh towards those who could stand for themselves but don't and expect others to do it for them, believing that over-reliance on others is another path to subjugation.

Skills/Abilities:
-Herculean: Ajax seems to have been gifted with superhuman physicality. Though his agility and manual dexterity aren't much to speak of, he is freakishly strong and damn near tireless. His entire body is tremendously difficult to damage and eradicates poisons, toxins and disease with absurd ease. What makes this unique is that Ajax wasn't simply born powerful, but rather that his body adapted to extremely harsh circumstances much faster and better than anyone else.

It's something everyone can do. Both muscle and bone adapt to the stresses they're placed under with time, you can exercise specifically to increase your lung capacity, you can get used to extremes of temperature if you live with them long enough, but the thing about Ajax is that his gift allows him to defy normal human limits. Of course, this gift requires a high degree of dedication to constantly test and push his own limits. If he had lived a quiet life, his gift would've gone by unnoticed.

His gift also allows him to pit his body against things that should be unaffected by mere brute force, since his body has been cultivated in such an unnatural way. He can pit his might directly against magic such as hold spells and the like, though this doesn't make him immune to magic as a whole, and is resilient towards mind-altering effects from a mixture of sheer willpower and having experienced them previously in his travels. This also extends to attempts to invade his psyche, which meet with as heavy a resistance as if Ajax was fighting the person directly.

-Pankration: Ajax is a skilled unarmed fighter, having trained to fight most of his life and having survived a number of ordeals through fighting skill alone. His fighting style is known in his homeland as Pankration, loosely translated as "all of might", and was originally a blend of boxing and wrestling with no rules beyond no biting or eye-gouging before more and more skills were added to its repertoire. Ajax is a particularly skilled grappler, adept at using his strength and size to his advantage, but knows how to supplement it with effective striking and has a proper grasp of the fundamentals of fighting beyond sheer strength.

Backstory:
Ajax descends from a long line of athletes, from the faraway land of Erimai. His father, Diagoras, was an accomplished wrestler trained by his father as was tradition within the family and celebrated in his homeland for his many victories in legitimate sporting events. Diagoras, in turn, upheld the custom and trained Ajax from an early age, and the young man soon grew into a grappler of considerable skill himself. However before Ajax could make his debut in an official event, Diagoras was murdered, the killer managing to evade the law.

With the aid of family friends, many of which held connections with the fighting underworld, Ajax eventually discovered that his father's death was orchestrated by Diagoras' supposed benefactor, Magistrate Cleon, because Diagoras had won a fight he was asked to throw. Enraged, Ajax sought Cleon out to murder him with his own two hands but was subsequently defeated, bested by foul sorceries and the attack of a demonically powerful fighter in Cleon's employ, known only as Hyperanthes. He was captured and his family subjected to great shame.

Publicly tried for attempting to murder a magistrate, Ajax was to be sentenced to death by poisoning before Cleon intervened, demanding Ajax be sold to him as a slave as reparation, a demand that was granted. It was then that Ajax's fighting career truly began, as the magistrate entered him in brutal underground contests, rule-less deathmatches for the enjoyment of select crowds. Fighting for survival with neither weapons nor armor, Ajax overcame all odds with his continued survival and spectacular progress, eventually becoming the circuit's most celebrated champion. Only one thought kept him from despair: revenge.

As time passed Ajax befriended a few of the other fighters and together they planned an escape. A hole in security, an opportune bribe carried out by acquaintances on the outside and superior combat skills were all that was needed, and soon the fighters were free. Knowing he'd be hunted down, Ajax decided to flee the country without involving anyone else, sneaking into a random merchant ship leaving the island which was first dragged around, then smashed to bits by a typhoon. The lone survivor, Ajax drifted aimlessly in a damaged raft until he arrived to a strange foreign land.

So began his career as a travelling adventurer. Never settling in a single place for long, always moving, always fighting to become ever stronger, looking to return to his homeland. The only problem is, no ship seems to know how to get there and by this point he has boarded about a dozen random ships with no clue where exactly they were going, so he is well and truly lost in this regard. His homeland could be on the exact opposite of creation for all he knows.

He has, however, come to find great enjoyment in his life and while he still seeks his home, he is content with facing life on a day to day basis, taking on new adventures as they come. It is not uncommon to find him as a strongman for hire, and tales are sometimes told of the strange, massive foreigner carrying neither weapons nor armor who clears out monster dens or bandit camps seemingly for the challenge of it. Enticing him to take part of a new adventure should be a simple matter.

Other:
I always though it was pretty boring how the badass fisticuffs class is always some type of asian stereotype built to be dodgy rather than a frontline manly man so think of Ajax as a Fighter rather than a Monk, speaking in class terms, except with less reliance on being given decent gear and magical buffs. He's the guy that stands at the front of the line, gets the crap kicked out of him and keeps going, and can deal some good damage especially in one on one fights. He's actually a prior character of mine, a Fighter in Dungeon World which lets you use gauntlets as your weapon type thanks to its narrative focus.

[User]
Regina shied back with a look of sorrow at Genevieve. She looked down as she slowly dropped to the floor, joining her hands behind her back. She glanced at Sakaala's feet as the lioness spoke and nodded as a response, not really wanting to speak after getting yelled at like a child.

Genevieve then said "It is getting late, and I would have my champions well rested and prepared. Should you all be in agreement with my terms, I have prepared rooms for each of you, I do hope they are to your liking. Your beds have already been turned down, and there are hot baths waiting for you in your personal quarters. If there is nothing else, my aid will escort you upstairs." Regina looked up and glanced at the others before approaching Genevieve. "Actually, I was wondering if I could talk to you privately for a few minutes." She looked up at her employer with puppy-dog eyes, hoping the woman would give her a chance to speak. "Please? It won't take long."

If Genevieve accepted, Regina would smile softly. "Should we wait here until everyone else has left or do you have another room?" As she asked, she began thinking of multiple ways to apologize for her rash and disrespectful actions in the past.

If Genevieve declined, she would walk away in sorrow, going to the room that had been readied for her. Once there, she would lay in bed and attempt to sleep, having decided she'd rather bathe in the morning. After a long time mentally berating herself for her past actions a quarter of a century ago, she would eventually sleep fitfully and restlessly.

[Assistant]
"Truth be told, I think the offer almost too good, but perhaps I am not properly gauging the gravity of this task."

Sir Erran had accepted his introduction and replied in a way that was befitting of a knight.

Ionathan gave Erran a warm smile. "You show more wisdom then me when I was your age but a word of warning, do not fight her alone, your armour, weapons and skill are formidable but not infallible, I'm sure she has some tricks that we could blunder right into" Pausing for a moment he realised how he sounded like a nagging old master of arms.

"I'm probably underestimating your training, but if anyone has to die out of the two of us, I want it to be me".

He let Genevieve end the matter of reading minds, her explosion of rage did not surprise him, she had done this before the last time Regina tried to delve her mind back in Waeldeshore as she soon mentioned.

"My questioning of her motivation,"

"Is more a question of our own morality. Were we not to ask, even if she were to lie to us now, makes us little better than the same people you seem to hate, as there is obviously some reason to doubt their nobility."

Ionathan stood to give his cramping muscles some rest when Sakaala spoke words that hit Ionathan hard. In the war the point of the nobility of the opponent came across several times, it was never spoken but it was felt throughout war. Ionathan believed in what he was fighting for and he believed that he was in the right. But what of the families of the enemy? Do they feel the same believing their own truth? They must love their families as fiercely as we do.

Even in the mist of battle these thoughts could strike home. When you strike down a foe it would rarely be an instant kill due to their armour. In their dying moments, some would lash out with whatever strength they had left with hatred still in their eyes, others would beg for mercy and start crying out for help from anyone even praying to the gods.
The worst of all would be after battles, you could walk across some battlefields treading on nothing but corpses, you would feel victorious, proud, you had just vanquished your enemies just a few moments ago, slaughtering all who got in your way and yet at the same time you could hear the moaning from the dying and the stench of battle. In the past he had just stuck fingers in his ears and opted to ignore the fact that even though he claimed to have been good through his actions, he had caused much pain and suffering.

These were the thoughts that struck Ionathan at that moment, he stood as still as a statue, eyes glazed over as if he was staring at an object one thousand yards away.

It is getting late, and I would have my champions well rested and prepared. Should you all be in agreement with my terms, I have prepared rooms for each of you, I do hope they are to your liking. Your beds have already been turned down, and there are hot baths waiting for you in your personal quarters. If there is nothing else, my aid will escort you upstairs."

The words that had been in the background now snapped him back. The offer of a nice warm bath felt like a divine blessing, it would be a good chance to relax and shave off the annoying stubble that had grown in the days it took him to get here.

Sakaala agreed to the "intent" of the quest, the wording she used puzzled him but if she was powerful as The Redd, then he would be pleased to have her fight alongside him any day.

Regina had just asked to talk to Genevieve privately which did not worry him, he had fought with both of them and felt a bond with them only made in battle.

"Have you any last questions for the lady?" Ionathan said, turning to Erran.

@vietmyke @AdamantiumWolf @Zero Hex @The Harbinger of Ferocity @IcePezz

[User]
Before Ajax could lambast the halfling once more for her constant use and abuse of her powers, the owner of the house took charge and shouted her down, apparently not for the first time. My my, what a temper she showed, how the mask of harmony and control fell every now and again. What explanations followed fell on deaf ears, there may be truths in them but now Ajax had no doubt that it was in his best interest to see this adventure through. Not out of some sense of duty or altruism, but simply because he could see the dagger in the dark, the obvious deceit, and if anything about the power this woman sought was true, he wanted to be the one to crush it.

Of course, this didn't come through visibly. Instead, he simply clapped his hands together once when offered comfortable lodging. Well, it was more like smashing the two palms together rather forcefully, causing a booming noise and perhaps making others wonder what it'd be like for something caught in between and the likelihood of it happening during their travels. "Ah, now that is a good attitude from a host! Yes I will accept your hospitality. I also require food and drink! A man should enjoy himself before he heads off to face death!" He still had things he would discuss with the beastess, but this was not the time nor the place. He might as well enjoy himself while he could.


[System]
* Age: ???, Elderly

Info: Rescued you from the prison camp. He is a member of the Shattergarde.
* Age: ???

Info: Bounty hunter chasing you
* Age: ???, Seems young

Info: Bounty hunter chasing you, perhaps leader of the duo

[User]
She wasn't special. If she was special she's know it right? Granted, she didn't seem to know much these days. Who killed the beloved son? What her own name was. Things. She attempted to be stoic about everything, keeping her face impassive. Lately it was just exhausted. The escape had been a whirlwind and it hadn't stopped being so. She hadn't had a chance to sort through everything that happened yet. And currently she was stuck on why. Why she, among these other strangers, was freed. Why none of them spoke. Not that she could complain, she hadn't said much thus far either.

Was this what freedom felt like? She didn't know if she'd ever been free, she assumed she must have been at some point. This wasn't quite it. Not yet.

She was among those that didn't smell anything untoward. Nothing special.

And then all of Zeal's hard work on her stoic expression simply melted away. A giant of a man in armour that, for some reason, stabbed at her gut (was it longing?) seemed to appear out of no where. How had they not noticed him? How had they not noticed -her-? The elven woman's face finally showed something other than weariness. Fear, irritation, the desire to hit something. She, too, hesitated when told to run. Her gaze swept the ground, seeking a possible weapon. Nothing, damn.

Another of the prisoner's was beckoning. Zeal loosed a series of curses, mostly revolving around the genitalia of gods, and then took off, long legs carrying her hurriedly, adrenaline giving life to said limbs.

[Assistant]
Memory of her crime had escaped her mind. Of course, memory of a lot of things had escaped her mind, including the details of her personal life and anything beyond the past week. The last thing she could remember was waking up a slave, being tortured and worked to near death every day. This experience had effectively suppressed her imagination or curiosity and Grinn had seemingly accepted her fate, awaiting execution with patience. It wasn't until the old stranger had freed them that her mind began to wander. Who was she? What did she do to deserve this? Why couldn't she remember when so much seemed to come as instinct?

 Even with her newly found freedom, Grinn had little time to think all of this through. They had escaped but were still in danger, hiding their position from prying eyes and careful to avoid any and all potential enemies. Who ever these people were that Grinn had escaped with were connected to her and they were all wanted for something that had apparently earned them extreme hatred. For all she knew, there could be people waiting at every corner for them.

 The group was suddenly stopped when a man in armor had appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. What ever thoughts that were crossing Grinn's mind had slipped away as a surge of energy burst through her body. If she weren't more reserved, she would have already charged forward, unarmed and screaming, attacking the sudden threat. Grinn felt that if they were attacked, she wouldn't be able to help herself.

 When another figure suddenly appeared, Grinn was aware of the developing situation. They had been hunted down by who had likely been bounty hunters. The man who had freed them from captivity beckoned for the escaped slaves to run. It felt as though every fiber of her being was fighting this command, nearly forcing her to join him. However, she pushed herself to run, following those who had already began making the sprint toward the crags.

 Whether she would stick with these people or not was debatable but she knew that her best chances would be with them at this moment in time.

[User]
A cage. A stupid cage for two FULL weeks. The fairy fluttered angrily with a bunch of strangers remembering her horrendous time in the slave camp. She would've rather wanted to do labor work than be somebody's pet. Her body glowed brightly as sparkles came from under her wings. Her slave clothes disgusted her for some reason... they were not appealing at all. The little one did contemplate whether or not she murdered someone... something told her she wasn't the most lucky person and that it was highly possible... BUT that was simply her intuition. All the guards doubted she was capable of such crime. Being big-mean-jerks while she was behind bars. She hated small spaces. She hated THAT cage.

WHAT IF SHE DID KILL THIS REALLY IMPORTANT PERSON?! A fairy could be just as much of a murderer as a big, scary orc!

She looked at the female orc beside her and tilted her head. Out of all the others running, the orc was the most intimidating one, along with the old man but that was besides the point. Perhaps simply misunderstood. What if they all were misunderstood?

Huffing to herself for thinking too much, not liking how blank her mind felt, she focused on following their savior. The old man leading them seemed to have his fair share of battles. He was a top notch professional and he achieved a great feat by helping them escape! For now, she'd stay quiet and hope they would find a safe haven. The people accused for the same murder were all very strange... her insides told her that they weren't stupid enough to kill Mr. Lonefire, the son of the Grand Marquess. But who knows! In this moment, they were all murderers until proven innocent. Stupid system.

Her face saddened. That can't be true, right? She began hitting her head to remember things, "Think Noli! Think!"  Until the party came to a full stop. Floating in the air by most of the heads of the group, she realized the old man was about to get in a brawl with an immensely large, giant of a man and a small, snowy-haired girl.

"They think they're tuff shots hmmm! Obviously , they're not good enough if they need to be together." She was ready to throw something at them, but only fairy dust seemed to come out... she was not very effective. The old man gave her glaring eyes and the fairy retreated behind the priest, "PROTECT ME HUMANNNNN." She decided to rest herself on his head.

Sitting on his head, she pointed in the direction the old man directed them to follow, "WE GO HUMAN!" She looked at the other party members, not really caring how they thought of her tiny self and said, "Lets get to steppin', you heard the Mister!".

She giggled in excitement, this was so much better than a cage, "We got exploring to do!"

[Assistant]
This entire situation felt like a dream... no, a nightmare. Two weeks ago she woke up without any memory of who she was, or why she was being harassed by men clad in armor accusing her of some murder she had no recollection of. Thereafter she was dragged to a slave camp, tortured for what seemed like days on end, and forced to labor in their dirty mines. The brutes even left welts, bruises and cuts all over her body - they seemed to like her face when they felt particularly frustrated. "Let's mess up that pretty face of yours, doll." they'd say, "Then we'll see if you talk." They never believed a word she said, accusing her of working with several others who she also didn't know. Who was actually evil here? Them or her? Perhaps it really was her. Sometimes she wondered, as she lay in her cell staring at the cold stone walls before day break and the nightmare started all over again.

Either way, execution day came and the slavers still had no confession from her or the others they thought she was working with. At least it would have come had a mysterious figure not come to their rescue the night before. At that point Echo had been looking forward to her own death, as she felt so worn down and tired that it no longer mattered to her. Being free of the slave camp would be enough, even if it was in the after life. That and the fact that she had no idea who she was or her own purpose in life helped her make that quiet decision with herself. However, this mysterious man who called himself Tychus of Shattergarde had other plans for her life. Yet again, she had become another pawn in someone else's hands.

The man was insanely talented, she would give him that much. Somehow he managed to take out all of the guardsmen in the camp and free her and the others accused of Tancred Lonefire's murder. Whether or not he was by himself she wasn't sure, but he currently led her and this small group of misfits by himself. Initially she had asked questions after escaping; who was he? Why did he release them? Where was he taking them? Who were these people? Did he know who killed the Grand Marquess' son? It wasn't her, was it? To be fair, she had a lot of questions that he could not answer at that time. Tychus only told her that she would know in time, and she best keep quiet or risk revealing them all. Understanding, she remained quiet for the rest of the long journey, occasionally eyeing the rest of the group with her pale green eyes.

"Do you smell that?"

Her thoughts broke and she glanced up at Tychus. He smelt something? Was he part canine? All she smelt was lilacs, which she had realized earlier that she hated. At least, if anything, she knew that she hated lilac. Perhaps she should have told someone to write that on her grave stone, considering what was about to appear before her. "Here lies Echo Notaras. A person with great distaste for lilac."

Her own banter in her head quieted as Tychus motioned for the group to start jogging. She felt so exhausted that jogging seemed impossible. They hadn't even stopped once since escaping save a few seconds pause, how did he expect them to run? The rest looked just as run down as she did, perhaps more so. Nonetheless, she gathered all the energy she had left in her tiny body and did as he asked.

"In the name of the Grand Marquess, drop your weapons and surrender!"

Echo's heart dropped at the sudden voice booming through the valley. It felt familiar, but as she looked at the massive knight before them she could not bring a name to mind. Why did she have the feeling in the back of her mind that she knew this behemoth? There was no time to ponder on it, as Tychus quickly drew his sword. Just as rapidly a snake of a woman revealed herself from the grass. "How did we miss them?" She thought, baffled. "How long have they been following us?"

As the women approached, yelling at Tychus, Echo's heart began to race. She almost felt frozen in place, unsure of what to do. Was she supposed to roll over and be captured or not go without a fight? Which would be the worse option? Apparently, Tychus opted for the latter.

"All of you, run towards the crags. These two are way above your skill right now. You'll find a passageway in there that will take you to where you'll find answers. I'll hold these guys off... Just don't die."

She stared at the older man as he sprang forward and attacked the two, then glanced toward the rest of the group. They all began running as Tychus said, and Echo had the brief thought of running in the other direction. Perhaps running with them until the very end, slinking off by herself when no one was paying attention. She could escape on her own, couldn't she? Why did she need the rest of this group?

"Of course I need them. What good is a girl on her own who remembers nothing about herself?" She thought, realizing she would have no clue what the next step would be had she been able to disappear on her own. That, or those two hunters would notice and she would have been easily picked off when alone. Convinced, she began running toward the crags with the others.

Echo briefly glanced back at Tychus, witnessing several copies of himself fighting against the two rivals. Quite amazing, if you asked her. Who was this "Shadow Reaver" anyway?

[User]
As your group runs forth, mustering the strength to sprint across the last quarter of a mile, you hear the sounds of swordplay behind you. Tychus seems to be holding his own against these two assailants. In fact, if you dare to look behind you, you can see that he is actually beating them back. Perhaps they aren't as dangerous as they originally seemed?

He's able to hold the duo back long enough for you to get into the thicket of the rocky land in front of you. It's a winding maze of barren scaling cliffs and sharp crags. Fortunately, there is a clear yet narrow pathway for you to follow. The party keeps moving, eyes on the lookout for what Tychus was referring to. The path eventually runs out, ending in a narrow crevice that you shimmy through, but only one at a time. Looking through the darkness, you can't make anything out, but you do smell a lingering scent of fire, as if someone had been camping within this cave. The old man immediately comes to mind, and you can guess that this is probably where Tychus stayed before he came to free you all. He said that answers lay through here, but what could that possibly mean?

Suddenly, like a crack of thunder, you hear a howl of agony behind you. Tychus skims across the path that led you to the crevice, blasted by some foreign power to about 400 yards behind you. The man looks to be alive, but just barely. His right arm hangs from sinew, blood gushing out onto the soil. Pained, the elderly man looks at you all and waves you on with his intact arm, trying to say words but unable to speak.

"Ivory, after the prisoners. I'll finish off that pathetic man." the soft voice of the white haired woman boomed.

On command, the giant knight rushes onto the scene. Like a gigantic bull, he lowers a shoulder and appears to be aiming to dash you all against the cliff walls. Tychus can't respond fast enough to protect you all, and you have moments to shimmy as fast you can away from the knight. By the looks of it, if you manage to squeeze through and avoid him, he would be too large to get through the entrance.

If you manage to shoot a glance back in your rush, you see the female bounty hunter approach the struggling Tychus. He rises once more, his severed arm finally snapping from the sinew and falling to the ground. Nonetheless, he pulls out his last knife and lunges at the woman. As he strikes, some sort of sorcery envelops the elderly man, pushing out from his form before they vanish into a dark smog. Unable to see any more, you can only ponder on the old man's fate.


[System]
@Cash78
Gender: Male.

Age: 32.

Former Occupation: Prisoner, born and bred.

Former Rank/Position: Prison cutman, "ghetto medic."

Mental and Physical Traits: For such a man who looks like something fresh out of a nightmare, Phrike is oddly jovial and friendly, if only superficially, as the man puts no real trust in those around him and uses his submissive nature only to see another day - as grim as it may be. He rarely fights, not without it being on his terms and is not prone to great feats of courage. In fact, he tends to cower around authority.

His strengths lie in his resourcefulness and tenacity, characteristics necessary for a man who operates on men with intestines pouring out, stab wounds and broken bones from tyranical Arbites with nothing but the bare minimum and hard fought knowledge. An addendum, he holds no love for the Emperor or any other faith, the Legion is only but a way to flee the cage he has been born into.

Appearance: Tall, overtly so for someone as nutrient deficient as a prisoner of Redemptio, and whip thin at that. His nose and face is covered in burst blood vessels, sunken blue eyes with eyebags like you wouldn't believe and a face marred by pox scars, with a huge gash running along the top of his lip through his right nostril. His gait is hunched and awkward, his arms, neck and stomach laced with self-harm scars.

He is missing a finger or two on his left-hand from frostbite and he habitually shaves his head down to the scalp, as well as his face and eyebrows - the risk of contracting ticks and mites in his line of work is too common to handle. The barcode tattoo common to all in a Penal World has been placed on his forehead, as well as varying blue, faded tattoos of various denominations: such as a pin-up on his left chest, eyes above his groin and various administrative tattoos along his scalp, such as his prisoner ID, services rendered, etc.

Wargear:
Lascarbine
Explosive Collar
2 Mono Knives
3 Frag Grenades
3 Krak Grenades
Flak Helmet (His Flak Vest has been stolen, unfortunately for him).
Imperial Guard Penal Legion Prisoner Uniform
1 Inhaler
1 Gas Mask
Poor Weather Gear
Rucksack
Basic Tool Kit
Mess Kit & Water Canteen
1 Weeks' Rations
Blanket & Sleep Bag
Rechargeable Lamp-Pack
Micro-Bead
Ident Tags ("Dog Tags")
Imperial Infantryman's Uplifting Primer
Various medical implements (if that's alright).

History: Just another lost soul, Phrike was born into the harsh realities of Redemptio and survived only by the generosity of a few Arbites, the weight of his parents connections and luck; it seemed more than likely that he'd die from starvation or one of the many infectious fevers that ran through the confines of the colony. However, as it is with all things, his parents passed as time went on from one thing or another, Arbites once kind to him were transferred, killed or turn coat and the connections he once enjoyed soured. A teenager, alone, he was abused frequently - his fear of authority comes from the many "visits" to his cell by Arbites after light's out.

There's no real history to be had for Phrike, actually. He survived by luck or tenacity into his adult years where he became the local cutman, an apprentice to the underground surgeons and bloodletters for those who feared punishment or retaliation from authority for injuries rendered. This allocated him some respect, gave him a purpose and allowed him to survive as long as he has.

His name had been passed over numerous times for introduction to the Legion personally by the High-Governor, his presence calms the local populace and takes valuable stress of cramped infirmaries. How his name made it past the ballet this time is unknown, but it has afforded Phrike the opportunity for a life outside his cage.

For how long, though?

[User]
Nathan Hall steps out from his seat at the mess hall, ignored once again by the people around him. He picked up his tray and stood on the table, he then began to speak while raising his tray. Brothers and sisters! We have wronged Mankind, but I see redemption for our sins against Mankind! It is the Emperors will, the will that brings the delegation of... Redemption! Brothers! Sisters! Now is the time to redeem ourselves, for the delegation we must stay true to the Emperor for he - in his ever growing and unlimited in his wisdom... He commands it! We must remain pure and free of heresy if we are to persevere in trialing times such as these... Chaos enroachs onto the Imperium but we are mankind, we are strong and with the help of each other we will prevail in the battlefields!

He then turns to face the Captain and his aides on the walkway, he brings his arm back and throws the food tray at the aides. But what of the command, why haven't you put us to arms! To watch us kill each other and to starve us, wasteful ! We should be fighting! The Emperor commands it for it his faith in mankind to do good for mankind or else we shall perish. Captain if you truly have no faith in the men and women before you then you shall accept my invitation to duel my finest champion - and he shall fight yours! For faith, for purity, for the Emperor!

Nathan stands still on top of the table and raises his hands up in the air and looks up as if he were looking into the sun. The mad man, he threw his tray at the captain! The guards on the walk ways seized up as he stood up to stand on the table, weapons were levelled at him from all sides. The guards, unsure if the Captain wanted Hall dead or not looked for him to guidance - even when he threw the tray. It woulden't take much to waste the entire mess hall, if it needed to come to that. The bullets and lasers would hit through Hall, and probably kill the entire table he was sitting at.

That was atleast, if they fired.

[Assistant]
Tigranes liked to think he was getting used to the life in the penal colony. Because, when you looked at it in a certain way, it was almost like life back home. Before the war, that is. After all, he still woke up in the early hours of the morning and ate whatever was available before making his way to one of the mining sites to toil away for most of the day in cramped, dangerous tunnels and shafts. It was almost like home, if he squinted the right way.

Except it really wasn't. Because no matter how bad things got back in Hayk VII, at least he wasn't in the middle of thieves, heretics, rapists and murderers. At least back home the food wasn't this tasteless gruel. At least back home the water didn't smell funny. At least back home the air wasn't THIS bad. And most important, at least back home Tigranes didn't had to deal with the absolute scum of Mankind trying to stab him in the kidneys or Holy Emperor knows what else.

But then again, was he any better? Hadn't he taken up arms in support of a filthy heretic against the Emperor-appointed overlord of his world? Wasn't he deserving of punishment just as the rest of the inmates in this dreaded place? Sure, he could plead and argue about his duty to his lord and his ignorance of the happenings in the halls of power. But that didn't change his crime. No matter that he was just following orders like any good citizen ought to do, because in the end, these orders were streaming down from a heretic.

Tigranes shook his head, it would do no good to brood over it. He was but a serf, if he was here then it was because the Emperor was punishing him for his crimes. And he would bear it in quiet obsequiousness like any faithful servant. The former miner just turned his attention back to the gruel. Better to finish it soon and get back to work. Keep quiet and stay low, don't attract attention. That had worked reasonably well so far for Tigranes.

His attention, however, was caught by the rambling madman on the other end of the table. Tigranes looked at the man, feeling a mix of pity and disgust. Someone that broken ought to have had received the Emperor's Mercy long ago. Or maybe, that was the Emperor's punishments for his own crimes? Strip him of his mind and faculties, leaving a broken, giggling husk behind to atone for whatever crimes he committed?

Tigranes stopped himself again. Turning back his attention to the gruel. Ignoring the mad ramblings or the other prisoners sharing his table. Even though he couldn't help but notice how a couple of them had that same air about them as the officers of the Royal Army back home.

Then he saw the Captain up on the catwalks. Now that one looked like an officer alright. Could almost pass for a Colonel back home. Just add a couple of tattoos to identify his bloodline and the appropriate trappings and decorations that came with the rank. Tigranes reasoning continued. Chances were, he thought, that this many people from the Militarum were here, was because perhaps the higher ups were going to raise a Penal Legion out of Redemption? It would certainly fit with the rumors running wild around the ex-soldiers in the camps. About the newest campaign routes falling near the planet.

If that were indeed true, maybe this could be Tigranes' chance to truly redeem himself? Surely that was the Emperor's way of giving him a better chance for redemption? Whatever he was planning however, was interrupted by the madman attacking the Captain.

Tigranes could not stop himself, the hideous wretch had probably killed them all and didn't even knew what he was doing. In his anger he shouted at the offending prisoner, throwing his own tray at him.

[User]
If Nathan had thought that there would be no repurcussions for his actions, something that is highly unlikely considering precisely where he was, then he was very much mistaken. No sooner had he thrown the tray - something that the Governor of the prison would probably have to ban because of his actions - than the flare of a forcefield crackled into life and sent the tray spinning away from the observing party on the gantryway.

Captain August Argyle barely even blinked an eye, having seen more than his fair share of combat zones, taking a little more interest as the prison guards (not the Arbites, they were reserved for special occurences) closed in on Nathan, several of them bringing extendable batons to bear with flicks of their wrists.

"You've been warned enough times, Hall!" Shouted one of them from behind his half-face helmet, "this is the final straw, you lunatic."

Before Nathan had a chance to move, as if there was anywhere to move to, one guard had already cracked him across the back of his legs, others gripping his limbs as they dragged him bodily from the table and dumped him without ceremony onto the cold, hard, floor of the canteen; for further emphasis he was booted repeatedly, hard enough to bruise but not so hard as to break anything, heavy-duty boots finally ceasing to attack him as the Captain began to speak.

His stern voice was amplified through speakers on the walls of the canteen, piercing blue eyes sweeping over the human dross as he spoke, glaring out from beneath his peaked cap.

"A war is being fought not far from here, a holy crusade to bring several systems back into the light of the Imperium and the authority of our beloved God-Emperor," his words were sure and strong, much like his resolve, "soldiers die out on the field every day, good soldiers, while scum like yourselves sit here in luxury and need not fear for your lives...but that is about to change, for I have been sent here to raise the First Redemption Penal Legion, meaning that some of you may even be fortunate enough to redeem yourselves in the eyes of Him on Terra."

For a moment he paused, pulling a dataslate from his jacket and seemingly studying it with some intensity, before looking back up and continuing.

"We will take volunteers but, should there be a shortage, we will simply take you instead. Should you wish to volunteer, make yourselves known to the guards, who will take you to a holding cell in the eastern wing. I will be there shortly."

The Eastern Wing was the arrival (and departure) wing for the prison complex, where new shipments of inmates arrived and the dead were returned to space, it also held the facilities supplies, uniforms and so on. It was as secure an area as any other in the prison, and more well guarded than the Governor's own quarters, a place where a man may see the back of this shithole if he should be so lucky.

Okay, so, your characters will need to grab a guards attention before being escorted to the eastern wing and the huge holding cell there; I leave it to you as to how you want to do this etc, and will post again once our willing (or unwilling) volunteers are all there.

You can be the first to arrive, you can be the last, it doesn't matter.

The cell is simply a huge, empty, area minus a few benches bolted to the floor and the obvious bars (likely with a forcefield beyond them) as well as a multitude of guards.

I look forward to seeing what you write, and we'll get to the action eventually.


[System]
Nickname - None

Age - 27

Physical Description

-For a member of an organized crime syndicate, Quinn is not a very imposing individual. He stands six-foot-one with a medium build placing him at or around 185 lbs. His face is smooth and youthful formed of a slight circular shape ending in a rather strong looking chin. Semi-large brown eyes and a slender nose add to the teenage visage despite a well groomed goatee and mustache; these features earned Quinn the nickname "babyface" before he firmly laid that much hated moniker to rest. The rest of his body is fairly average especially in the suits he wears which make him look more slender than he actually is. A black tribal tattoo adorns the right half of his back and stands out nicely against his caramel complexion. His hair is always kept cut extremely short and lined accurately while a lone earring sits in his left ear.

Quinn takes pride in his appearance in regards to the clothes he wears so he is almost always wearing a suit or formal dress wear of some kind.

Syndicate Class - Enforcement

---

Characters Out Of Comission

---

FrozenEcstasy - Dallas Robertson/Donna Belle Francis

[User]
Vivian Hong | Regalia; Safehouse

---

It wasn't long after the descent of the huge television that the elevator ding'd and opened its mouth, announcing the clack clack clack of a Ms. Devi Rana - the Syndicate's latest financial hotspot. Vivian had only ever known her on the computer screen; and to be quite honest, the pictures and credentials were far less annoying than her loud-ass high heels. Super inconvenient for the shit we're in... But that was of course just Vee's time-of-the-month speaking. Probably.

The business woman lowered herself down on the sofa across from the twosome and finally spoke, looking like a delicate little flower in distress - which, granted, she had reasonable reason to be.

Rana's last line earned a soft snort from her throat, a sort of sarcastic agreement. But that would be the only acknowledgement from the Eraser, who was unsurprisingly quiet around people she wasn't used to. She proceeded to reach forward and close her hand around the orange soda can, snapping back the the tab and take a long sip while catching Gyles' eye. She held his gaze somewhat smugly for a few moments, before nonchalantly rolling them up to the ceiling. Vivian code for: She's all yours, buddy.

There was a low, satisfied "Ahhh..." that Vee emitted as she replaced the can on the table, briefly glancing over at the other female in the room to see if she got any sort of reaction. Then, leaning back, she pressed a button to illuminate her phone in search of a text or anything from Lex, confirming that she was alright. Still there was none, and a little nugget of worry plopped itself into the back of Vivian's mind. But she flushed it away just as the elevator opened up again, this time producing the proudly round diva of their motley crew.

Her obnoxiously bright energy, infectious as always, pushed the corners of Vee's mouth into a small smile. "Hey, Kim," she replied in a sing-song voice, jerking her chin up in a nod of greeting at the third female in the room. Although she's only been around Kim K a few times before this, the girl's attitude, blatantly contrasting her own, actually served as endearing instead of horrifying. An advantage for both of them, since a lack of patience on Vivian's part would probably spell trouble, especially now. As Kim passed her on the couch she held up her bag of pretzels in offering, and then, so as not to be considered too much of a cold bitch, she extended the offer to Devi, in case she was in need of some salty-sweet goodness, as well.

It wasn't until the youngest one of the group came tromping out of the elevator that Vivian produced a fully-fledged smile. He too was another one that she had only ever met in two dimensions, and she was aware that he probably knew more about her than she did about him. Maybe. Normally she'd be wary of this, but his nervous rambling and his not-so-nervous jab at Quinn was enough to make him likeable in her book.

She lifted her hand at the end of his spiel, pointing a slender finger at him in deadpan fashion. "You're fucking hilarious, man." Then she cracked, the smile reappearing on her face as she lifted her orange soda as a sort of toast in his direction. "Happy Monday," she repeated, miming as if she was clinking the can against his glass of water before taking a sip.

"Want a pretzel?"

[Assistant]
Regalia - Safehouse - Lex Mason

---

The ride to the safehouse was as awkward as you might have expected. Lex decided to sit in the back seat, making sure the new guy didn't pull anything while she was riding with him. Sure, he could have run the vehicle into something to try to hurt her, but he would have injured himself in the mean time. Plus, she sat in the middle seat in the back. It was statistically the safest place to sit.

Her phone vibrated when she received a text. The sound penetrated the silence in the vehicle, jarring her nerves a bit. She glanced down, noting it was the response from Vee that she had been waiting for. Jax seemed preoccupied with driving so she decided it was safe to read. She could shoot him without looking at him anyway. As soon as she read the text, the second, anticipated text from Quinn arrived. Luckily, they were already headed to the house. Jax seemed above board for now.

When they pulled in, Lex continued letting Jax make the first move, following his lead inside. She stepped through the doors and immediately searched for Vivian.

[User]
Regalia - Safehouse - Quinn Gyles

---

 Quinn took a breath as the room began to come to life with fresh bodies appearing from the elevator. He had been focusing on the exaggerated crunch of Vivian's everlasting food supply so much that he had begun to lose himself to random thought. As the elevator ding became more of a constant than it ever had been in the last few years, the enforcer started to remember that indeed the Regalia branch of the syndicate was larger than he'd remembered. It was nowhere near the main branch of course, but it was like the National Guard during a drill weekend; you never really kept track of how big your company was until you all showed up in the same location. Once the people began making themselves known, he slowly began to piece together the information he had made sure to compartmentalize upon their first meeting. Each soul was useful, that much he knew, but personal tidbits created by rusted connections years old resurfaced as he looked over each arriving member.

 Devi was one of the financial managers of the Syndicate - because you could never have enough people to run your books - and she was damned good at it. This was partly due to the fact that she was not as in the life as the others, but also because she was just more intelligent than at least Quinn himself. Her ethnicity had been a point of contention back when she first joined, but that had been the product of an older regime and she quickly proved herself through her work ability. It also helped that she was a looker, but the sanctity of the enforcer's mentality thanked him for not saying that fact out loud - there was only so much one could take from a certain Asian and her ability to make fun of another. Vivian's god damn sarcasm was legendary after all.

 Next through the ringing doors was Kimberly. Her flamboyance remained intact as she strolled through and Quinn was silently pleased that the day's events had not rattled her as much as he thought it would. Her confidence in herself, physically and mentally, was one thing, but confidence even after probably having bullets whizz by that frame was another. Speaking of frame, it was also nice to see that intact as well. Kim was more of a real person than your hollywood movie model, but it was something at least Quinn could appreciate. Who could complain about a curvaceous woman after all? Like Devi, she was also very good at what she did so there was no reason to dislike her. The only thing was that Quinn had not seen or spoken to her in quite a while. There was a multitude of reasons for this, but most important was that his field and hers was one that did not need to cross often. He remembered that their conversations had been good in the past however, so he grinned a bit when her voice rang out.

 The last person through was the resident hacker and the one member that Quinn had probably only ever seen in person once - exactly once. It was back when he first joined and even then he had never spoken to the man face to face. The computer and multiple forms of technological communication facilitated the robot voice Quinn knew to be Mamushi, but seeing him in person for only the second time almost unnerved him. Technology was not a strong point for the enforcer and he had always envied those who could do just about anything on a computer. Quinn knew enough to check his email and navigate his phone, but that was the extent of software knowledge. It had always been easy to just get something done indirectly through Mamushi, but seeing him reminded him that this was a real person indeed - a real person who had almost been killed and was rightly complaining about it. A nervous smile flashed as Mamushi recounted how he escaped - and apparently killed - his would be assassins and his assertion that it had been cool elicited a chuckle from the enforcer. He wondered if any of them knew that Vee was by far the better fighter and if they did not, there was no way he was going to admit it.

With everybody accounted for, Quinn almost spoke until Lex and a stranger walked in. At least, he was a stranger for one second until Quinn instantly pegged him - Jax. It was fucking Jax. Lex made her way over to Vivian, but Jax went off to claim a lone corner and befriend a cigarette. He knew what this was. He knew that there was no way he was welcome here, but Quinn knew he had no choice but to be here. The fact that his presence was necessary only now made sense in Quinn's head. Of course he would be here after this kind of event. An eraser from the main branch and a man who used to be second-in-command over the entirety of the Syndicate would obviously come to see the branch that was being accused of betraying everyone and everything that Syndicate stood for. Deciding to ignore him for the moment, Quinn took a breath and leaned back in his seat. "Glad you all made it," He began before stealing a few chocolate pretzels and hurriedly crunching down on them. "I'll make this quick considering I haven't been around for a while." Quinn stood and lit his own cancer stick before pocketing a hand. He stepped out of the couch circle and strolled over began walking slowly, nowhere in particular.

 "This day has been shit for you all, but let me sum it up for you. Apparently, the main branch believes that we have been selling drugs despite the mandate not to. For what reason, I have no idea, but this is why you guys were each attacked today. You know the rules, once your break a rule like that, it's pretty much certain death. There will be no trial or any kind of chance given to prove our innocence. In fact, me and cookie monster over here even met a squad of main branch hitmen sent to ice us all personally. They're taking this matter pretty seriously, but... " Quinn trailed as the woman on the news spoke with a familiar picture next to her head. The TV had been quiet enough to be ignored all this time, but Quinn grabbed the remote and turned up the volume as his eyes widened and the cigarette dropped from his mouth.

 "Again, for all of our viewers just tuning in, the body of John Malkovich Ariella was found early this morning in an alleyway near the famous Crest Club downtown. While he was a well known philanthropist and community supporter, Mr. Ariella was perhaps more well known as the man who founded, and headed, the infamous Ariella Syndicate - the organization law enforcement has been trying to incriminate for the last few decades. His body was found with two bullet wounds in his head. Law enforcement has not released any details or comment on the situation so we will update you as this story develops,"

 Quinn stood in shock for moment before cursing. This day, or night rather, had just gotten many times worse.


[System]
Age:20
Race:Human
Traits: Not much.
Skills: Knows sword fighting, is an OK archer, is learning karate.
Likes/Dislikes:
♡Sweets
♡Fun Things
♡Reading
♡Singing
-Arranged Marriages
-Being alone
-being a princess
Personality: Quiet, doesn't like to talk much unless she wants to, hates to be called short.
Bio: She is a princess from Earth that has been chosen to marry an alien in order to better political relations between the human and alien races. While she feels that it won't help anything, nobody cares to listen to her and she decided to just go with it and hope for the best.

[User] Mandy followed her caretaker inside. "Xandria, please just listen-" She quietly pleaded with the older woman. "Mandy, we spoke about this already. Everything is settled and all we need to do is get someone to transport you." Xandria looked around the office. "Marvelous. He's not here. Maybe another time..." She sighed. "Xandria." "Princess, please. Let me take care of this."

[Assistant] So that's the job eh? A transport for this...princess. How boring but she was royalty so there would be big money involved. "Is that what you attend to hire me for? A transport?" He said to them deactivating his camouflage appearing right in front of them. He towered over them, his chest was covered in scars and his eyes and voice showed the signs of his non human nature. "Are you aware of who or what I am?" He asked them

[User] Both Xandria and Mandy jumped and turned towards him. The older woman quickly composed herself. "A transport, yes. But also a bodyguard." Mandy shook a little. This was all so uncomfortable for her. "You see, Princess Mandy is to be married in a month and we have reason to believe that some may want to end her before that happens."

[Assistant] He pondered on his next move. So she was royalty and a powerful one at that "And this enemy is to be frightened to the point of hiring me?" He asked pressing a few buttons to summon his clothing a long trench coat "Who is exactly this enemy?"

[User] "Considering the amount of money they may just use to hire assassins, yes. Some Anti-Marriage humans and some Predators who really don't want this to happen. We know that with you, she is in capable hands."

[Assistant] He raised an eyebrow when she said the word predator. It was the name humans gave to the Yautja. "By predator do you mean the Yautja?" He asked irritation in his voice by the choice of words she just used

[User] Mandy had glanced at the door. She was pretty sure that at this point, Xandria wouldn't catch her and whoever this guy was didn't really care enough to catch her, even if Xandria paid him or managed to fix her mistake. "Oh...yes. Yatuja." Mandy started to inch for the door. It was still open so she could definitely run when she was close enough.

[Assistant] He kept his eye on the girl even when his attention on the women in front of him. "That word is dangerous around us. If you tend to hire me please refrain from calling my people that. And also..." He said with a slight swish used his tail to close the door with force "Your princess was about to run."

[User] She mentally cursed when he revealed her plans to escape. "Mandy!" "...I planned no such thing...just wanted to....wait outside." She mumbled. "In this situation? People want you dead!" "And I told you how to fix that..." "Stop being childish about this, it's your-" "I know. It's my duty to marry the Yatuja." She sighed.

[Assistant] He heard those words. Marry the Yautja? His eyes turned cold as his tail coiled around the caretaker its harpoon like stinger aim and reward "You will explain. And it better be clearly. I have no problem with adding another trophy to my wall."

[User] "P-Please release her! It's as simple as it sounds! One of the more powerful clans agreed to better their relations with humans by someone marrying one of their own. I was chosen and here we are."

[Assistant] His eyes turned to the girl "Agreed? The Yautja don't just agree. There's only one way to get them to listen. You have to best them in what they what they do best. Hunting..." He looked at care taker "How many people died?"

[User] "2,000." She sighed. "Just put her down, please." Mandy pleaded. Xandria was almost frozen out shock of how high the number was. "I didn't want to mention that to Xandria. But I guess the cat is out of the bag..."

[Assistant] He saw the plead in her eyes and also saw she was telling the truth he dropped the care taker his tail uncoiling and slithering back to his side "Typical humans. Always do things without being fully prepared."

[User] "Are you going to take the job or not?"She sighed. She hoped he wouldn't take it and it seemed like he wouldn't anyway. "Mandy, when did-" "I'll explain later, for now please wait." She stated bluntly.

[Assistant] He towered over the little princess "This tribe....were they carrying eggs of some sort?" He asked he had heard a rumor some time ago about a tribe of some sort carrying xenomoprh eggs. This activity was banished long ago as this planets ecosystem was perfect for natural breeding instead of forced breeding. If this tribe was the one in question it would be a problem

[User] She thought for a moment before quietly answering him. "Rumors suggest that they do..." She really didn't want to admit it to him, but that was what a lot were saying that about the tribe she was marrying into. She didn't know if it was true herself, which was frustrating but maybe she could use it as leverage to get out of the whole situation. "Seriously, if you don't want to, nobody is forcing you." She mumbled.

[Assistant] He could see what she was trying to do with his eyes "I don't think you understand the danger this could pose little princess." he turned to caretaker "Tell your employer I accept but I will do things own way."

[User] Mandy cursed him mentally. "Thank you so much." Xandria chirped. "When shall you start?" Mandy glanced at the door one more time. Why did they have to offer her up as soon as they realized that the aliens didn't care much and kind of hated them? Mandy thought back to her family and remembered. She clenched her hand into a fist in annoyance and anger.

[Assistant] He was about to give his answer when he sensed something. He raised a hand in the air indicating to be silent. He heard footsteps coming from upstairs. One, two, three, light and heavy and a familiar his. The foot steps suddenly rushed to the stairs. With a quick reaction he had pierced the abdomen of a runner class xenomorph. He winced in pain for a second. Xenomorphs blood was acid, literally acid capable of melting through a hull of a warship. As the body dropped his tail burned. "Hide. Now!"

[User] When the Xenomorph ran in, Xandria screamed and Mandy yelped but dragged her caretaker to hide. "Calm down, Xandria." She silently soothed.

[Assistant] The other two slowly came down cautious of their new enemy. At first they were confused the human smelled like him. They hissed at him and he hissed back. The three of them converted with one another via the form of telepathy. When the two creatures decided he wasn't one of them they charged. Unlike most Luke had two gauntlets insead of one. With a simple motion of making a fist two sets of scimitar like claws came from the gauntlets. One set pierced the first xenomorph and the other grazed the second one. Rushing quickly he blocked the jet of acid that came from the second one as it exploded from its wounds. His body sizzled with burns but they weren't two bad

[User] They watched, Mandy unsure what was going to happen. "P-Princess, we must escape." "We'll stay here."

[Assistant] Luke watched the body of the xenomorph twitch dying from blood loss. He put it out of its misery. His body was covered in burns but it seemed they didn't affect him. In face he was healing

[User] "Are you ok?!" Xandria said to him, coming closer to check the wounds he had. Mandy was in guard now, watching and listening a little more.

[Assistant] He flicked open a little compartment one his gauntlet and pulled out a small sprayable canister. He began spraying the sulivant on his wounds. He saw the hand of the caretaker. It was slightly burned. He took her hand and sprayed the sulivant on it

[User] Mandy looked at the Xenomorph's remains, making a few mental notes based on her observations. "Thank you. Ah, so...when will you start?" Xandria asked, looking up at him.

[Assistant] "Now." He stated bluntly "Tell your employer to move her essentials here. It will be safer that way."

[User] "R-Right away! We packed in case this would happen! I shall get it promptly!" The woman ran out. Mandy watched her and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Sorry..." She looked at him from the corner of her eye. "She gets...weird sometimes."

[Assistant] "It's nice to know some of you humans find it strange as well." He said making a joke cracking a small smile

[User] She let out a small chuckle. "Either way, allow me to properly introduce myself. I'm Mandy Alexand. Please leave the formalities at the door unless we are in a formal setting." She stuck out her hand. "Hopefully we don't get on each other's nerves."

[Assistant] He eyed the hand then her he raised out his hand and shook hers "Luke Ravenz." He said professionally

[User] "Nice to meet you, Mr. Ravenz." She smiled, shaking his hand.

[Assistant] "Luke. Call me Luke." He said looking toward up stairs and picking up the dead Xenomorphs "There's a two bed room upstairs for you to use. As a professional I'm letting you know I'm having a...visitor tonight."

[User] "During that time, I'll quietly stay in my room." She nodded. "Already feels like home." She smiled.

[Assistant] He felt uncofortable with her smile. He should have to explain but he knew he probably should "It's not like you can't come out or anything it's just the...visitors that come here maybe a little hostile..."

[User] "Nope, I'm allowed to leave my room and stuff, but I can't cause a ruckus while people are there. Kinda like here. But, I like here so much better." She heard a loud thump and adopted an annoyed look. "She didn't..."

[Assistant] He turned to see the caretaker "Was it something valuable?" He asked Mandy

[User] The caretaker came in with giant bags. "Xandria...why did you bring my entire closet with you?!"

[Assistant] He saw her bags and looked toward Mandy "Those are your essentials?"

[User] "That is 4 times the size of my essentials." "But you'll be meeting with your fiancé in a few weeks. You need to look your best!" "...But do I need my entire room?!"

[Assistant] He took one bag from her hand and lifted it like noting "Give me the other bag." He said dropping the xenomorph

[User] Mandy glared at Xandria. "Oh, relax, Princess. I really left some things behind." "I'm pretty sure you have everything except my bed."

[Assistant] He looked toward Xandria "I hope you packed some of your things as well."

[User] "I do, don't worry." "Alright then." Mandy picked up her bags and seemed to struggle a little before trying to rush to the stairs.

[Assistant] He took the other bag from her hand "Know your limits" he told her lifting the seemingly heavy bag like nothing

[User] She reached for bags. "I can handle the weight of those, there really is no need, Luke!" She went on her tiptoes and still couldn't reach them.

[Assistant] It amused him that she tried to take the bags away. He towered over her so he just leniently walked up the stairs carrying the bags

[User] She managed to jump and hang onto on of the bags. "Aha!"

[Assistant] He thought nothing of the extra weight all he had to do was shift his position a little when he pulled up a little he pulled her up too. No she was laying in his arms as he held two bags with one

[User] She glared up at him. She would have said a lot of things but she decided it would be futile. So she settled with huffing and glaring up at him.

[Assistant] "Glare all you want." He said walking to the room when made he the room he tripped on something and made a plummet but he quickly turned and landed on his back on the bed with her on top of him "Well you certainly work fast." He said joking

[User] "I intend on doing just that." She squealed when he tripped and fell, glad he turned in time. "Well, I like them tall." She joked back. "But thanks for not squishing me."


[System]
Age: 18

Race: Goblin (though he claims to be a gnome with a bad skin condition)

Class: Wizard

Level: 2

Background: Charlatan

Personality: Pompous, theatrical, attention-seeking, jittery, proud, possibly delusional, doesn't know when to shut up.

Backstory: sent to GM

Other: Has a fey familiar called Eighteyes who takes the form of a spider. She's loyal to Jub while also being 100% done with his nonsense.

Stat Generation: Point Buy

[User]
Chapter 1

Welcome to the Witchlight Carnival!

The Ticket Booth

The first stars of night twinkle above the apricot sunset. Giant dragonflies whir overhead, trailing streamers, and a low mist curls over the ground. Through a floral archway, you glimpse wondrous and vibrant creatures—elf stilt walkers, dancing faeries, and painted performers. Everywhere there is laughter, pixie dust, bubbles, and the wistful tune of a whistling calliope.

Almost all of you gaze upon this sight, and the memories of your previous visit seem to become much more vivid than they were before. For the bugbear resident, the calliope and laughter has certainly drawn him here from his rock home.

By chance or by fate, all of you stand before the entrance to the Carnival together, reunited by similar causes. Five of them remember the Carnival Owners' words...

"Silly little screeching cricket...
You forgot to buy a ticket!"

"The Carnival goes round and round,
The Multiverse is our Playground. Nothing's free and nothing's lost. Every visit has its cost."

With that thought in mind, they see the Ticket Booth by the entrance. There, the party sees a wrinkled old goblin running that booth. He finishes helping a customer pay for their ticket and calls to them, as though he were deaf, "Thank you! Enjoy your time in the Witchlight Carnival!"

[Assistant]
Brutrumukk

Brutrumukk hated everything about what was happening right now. The music. The laughter. The noise. He hated it all with every fibre of his being. Ever since the Witchlight Carnival had arrived in the field and set up shop right next to the Snoring Stone, Brutrumukk's usual peace and quiet had been shattered. Yelling at them to go away had proven fruitless. Threatening to rip off their heads and shit down their necks only made them say he wasn't allowed in the carnival, as if he even wanted to go to their stupid carnival! And since there were so many carnies, simply killing them all wasn't an option. And so all the angry bugbear could do was lean against his rock and glare at the carnival as he prayed to Hruggek and Grankhul for the chance to take revenge on those who had torn away the usual serenity and solitude of his grassy field and his hollowed stoney home.

[User]
G A B R I E L

Gabriel absent-mindedly played with the basket hilt of the old rapier at his side watching passerby with vague interest, specifically keeping an eye on the grumbling bugbear leaning aways off against an old moss-covered rock 'He could be trouble.' the swordsman thought scratching his goatee with a free hand 'Then again so can anyone.' the man's gaze fell upon the others lined up to pay the ticket...

* CONTINUED IN COLLAB *

[Assistant]
A small figure stood by the floral entrance to the carnival, bundled in a mixture of fine silk and old rags that hid every part of him save his oversized ears and the beady, reddish-orange eyes that seemed to glow slightly beneath his hood. While he was just another visitor to the Witchlight, he had set himself up beside the ticket booth an hour or so earlier and was attempting to flag down all who attempted to enter. These attempts ranged from simply calling out to them to actively getting into their personal space and shoving a variety of small, cruedly-made trinkets in their line-of-sight.

"Souveniers for sale!" the figure called. "Made by Jub the Peculiar's own two hands! Buy one now, remember visit to Witchlight Carnival forever!"

These attempts had so far been unsuccessful. Most people ignored him and would rush quickly through the archway once they had bought their ticket, or would decide to leave carnival, likely to return at a later point when they hoped he would be gone. Jub had managed to hold out so far, but even his enthusiasm was starting to wane and he had gone from loudly pestering the visitors to sulking as he eyed each one individually. He had been showing particular interest in one of them - a half-elf with a rapier by his side - when his gaze passed over to someone standing a little further afield: a rather grumpy-looking bugbear who was eying the whole carnival with a look of contempt. How long had he been standing there? Jub hadn't noticed him when he had first set up shop, but then again, he had been kind of distracted by all the colours, the smells... the whole catatrophe when he had tried to get Eighteyes to spin a banner out of silk and had ended up scaring away a couple of extremely archnaphobic customers... well, the point was, he wasn't exactly as observant as normal. But, he'd noticed now and was willing to take this lull in the current business to try a somewhat riskier venture.

Now, normally he wouldn't try something like this - especially with such a grumpy-looking fella - but he was a little desperate at this point. Business had been slow for him today... and yesterday... and the day before that... but he was determined to use this carnival as an opportunity to gain a little extra coin. So, stepping away from the ticketbooth, he approached the bugbear as confidentally as he could manage.

"You, sir!" he said, pointing to the bugbear. "You look like a man who could use..." He paused, looking the bugbear up and down as he tried to gage what exactly would interest him. "A good.. err.... erm..."

Nope, he was drawing a blank here. Probably should have workshopped this before approaching the customer.

"Erm..." Jub quickly pulled out his failsafe and showed it to the bugbear. "Shiny brooch? Only one gold piece."

[User]
Brutrumukk

Brutrumukk looked down at the either very brave or very stupid magical looking goblin who had dared to approach him. After regarding the goblin trying to sell him something for a few moments, the bugbear huffed through his nostrils. "Fuck it. Why not?" Brutrumukk said before tossing the goblin a gold piece and pocketing the brooch. After a moment of consideration, Brutrumukk looked down again at the goblin and spoke in their native tongue. "Oi, booyagh. I got a job fer ya. Four gold if you say yes an' four more if you actually do the job." Brutrumukk pointed at the carnival. "See that place? I don't like that place. So I want you to go in there, snoop around, an' see if there's any way to mess everything up. Once you've found a way, come tell me what that way is so that I can go mess it up, an' I'll give ya the rest of the gold. Sound good?"

[Assistant]
Jub took the coin the bugbear had handed him and held it up to his face. He squinted at it for a moment before testing it with his teeth, briefly exposing rows of jagged teeth to any who may be looking closely enough. When he was satisfied, he placed it in his pocket and was about to thank the bugbear for his business when he suddenly spoke again, this time in the goblin tongue. Jub's body immediately stiffened, the glee in his eyes leaving and being replaced with panic.

How had he figured it out? His disguise was flawless! Was it the ears or... maybe his smell? He raised an arm slightly and sniffed at himself self-consciously. Did he smell more goblin-y than usual today? He didn't think so. Then again, he wasn't sure how goblin-y he usually smelled. He was still contemplating this when he noticed the bugbear had stopped talking, and suddenly realized he was probably expecting some kind of response. What had he been saying? Something about... a job... and gold?

Jub hesitated for a moment as he considered how best to respond. He could feign ignorance, pretend he didn't understand and quickly make his way back to the carnival. After all, he'd gotten what he'd come for and had no reason to humor this stranger, especially if it meant sabotaging the carnival. Jub liked the carnival. It was bright, colorful, filled with oddballs with unique costumes... Jub's kind of place!

But at the same time... four plus four gold... plus the gold piece he already had... that was a decent amount of gold, at least more than Jub had made in the last few days, and he wasn't sure how long it would be before business was ever that good for him again. He looked the bugbear up and down for a moment, weighing up in his options.

Jub gave the bugbear a double thumbs up. "You, my good sir, have a deal!" he responded in goblin.

[User]
Brutrumukk

A wide, predatory grin of anticipation stretched itself across Brutrumukk's face. His prayers had been answered. Soon he would have his opportunity for revenge. Those carnies would rue the day they crossed the Spirit Of The Snoring Stone. "Perfect." Brutrumukk said as he handed the goblin his down payment. "I'll be leanin' against this rock fer most o' the night. Wait fer me 'ere once you've got somethin' I can use. 'An don't try to cheat me, booyagh. Elsewise there'll be no magic in the world that'll be able to save you from me."

[Assistant]
Bursting into a large open field was a particularly winded gnome. He scanned the area, alert of any signs of danger before his eyes settled upon the large carnival before him. The Witchlight Carnival. Upon seeing it memories long lost began to resurface as he buckled and knelt on the ground.

"Can't stop, can't stop, can't stop." He repeatedly whispered to himself.

He looked around and it seemed like his only choice for respite at the moment was either the carnival or a disgruntled looking bugbear. The former seemed like the better choice. Miizel slowly stood up and made his way to the ticketing booth, eyes still darting around.

"Uh, h-hello." He said, his voice high pitched and whistle like. "One ticket please."

[User]
Aurora Malister & Gabriel

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

It has been decades since she had seen this particular carnival. She was only ten years old when her and Xander had snuck out to go see what all the servents had been talking about. The smells of the food, the jugglers spinning firey touches back and forth, and the acrobat walking across the thin wire with no net below them. Just as the acrobat looked like they were going to fall the recovered, and Rory and Xander had been caught by one of the Carnival's owners.

Rory pulled down her face cover while staring in child like wonder still lost in memory. When the goblin yelled to her she snapped out of it and looked around quickly to see who the goblin was yelling to. Off to the side she noticed the groucy looking bugbear who was leering at the carnival as of it was disturbing him. She looked around to see who else was in the line for tickets to the carnival and see a half-elf playing the the basket guard on his rapier.

"Are you ok sir?" turning the man blinked as though he was surprised by the question "Hm?" the half-elf placed his other hand at his hip giving the elvish woman a good look "Oh I'm fine," a smile spread across his face, despite the scar on Gabriel's face his appearance remained as fine as it had before "Your concern is flattering, however."

"I know how overwhelming this place can be if it's your first time seeing the Witchlight Carnival. Just wanted to make sure you didn't get to distracted. Picket pockets love a distracted crowd. Then again, it's been some time since I've seen it last and maybe they've run off any would be thieves." Aurora loosed a string on her belt pouch to draw out the needed coin to get into the carnival while stepping closer to the booth. "Name's Rory by the way.

Gabriel fished out a single gold from a pouch tied to his waistband, nodding in agreement "Well I guess I should return the favor sometime," chuckling he offered her a hand "Gabriel, duelist by trade."

A wry smile passed over Aurora's face quickly. She reached out and shook his hand. "Be careful about saying things like that around here. Carnival workers or not, fey like making deals and gathering favors. So what brings duelist by trade to the carnival?" he gave her hand a firm shake before returning it to the guard of his rapier "Whimsy, or rather a gut feeling." he told Rory with a sigh, smile dipping slightly "The life of a duelist has taken me far from a life I left behind..." Gabriel looked as though he was about to say more but instead cleared his throat and shook his head "Oh but never mind that, what brought you here?"

"Just happened to be passing through and saw the carnival. The noise and sight of it kinda draws you in. I have a few days before I need to find some work or move on anyway." Aurora stretched out her arms, and, then fingers trying to loosen up stiff muscles from having been cramped in the small inn room she was staying at.

Gabriel gave her a slight nod with a bit of amusement upon his face "Story of my life," he chuckled amicably, then scratching the hair of his chin with the hand placed upon his weapon Gabriel silently considered something with a tilt of his head "If you wouldn't mind it," returning his hand to the hilt of the weapon at his side Gabriel sounded as if he were measuring his words "I would ask if you might like my company?"

"I don't see why not." She stepped up to the booth quickly behind the gnome in line.

[Assistant] "You got it!" Jub responded cheerfully, this time in common. He finished inspecting his four new coins and gave the bugbear yet another thumbs up before turning away and his way back towards the Carnival. Only once he was away from the cranky goblinoid did it briefly occur to him that this was a terrible, awful idea that could very easily backfire on him. However, he didn't have time to really mull that particular thought over because, as he attempted to get in line for a ticket, he ended up tripping over his robes, narrowly avoided bumping into the people in front of him and dropping his coins all over the ground. "Oh no no no..." He quickly got onto his hands and knees and quickly attempted to scoop the fallen coins up.


[System]
Age: 25
Gender: Female
Occupation: Exotic Dancer

Personality: Cunning, Bold, Forceful, Intelligent
Appearance:

[User] "Anyway, I got to get back to work", she said to them after she finished her water. "Be careful tonight, boys", she warned them before leaving. "Don't trust the cops?", Tom questioned Chris in confusion. "What did she mean by that?"

[Assistant] Chris was brought back to reality when Nancy warned them and then bid them farewell. Chris nodded before his attention was on Tom who didn't seem so convinced. Chris wasn't either exactly but to understand why. "Seems exactly that Tom. Don't trust them. Now that I thought on it, it does seem storage that when we got here, it was a tad quiet. Not a lot of people about the city. Did you ever notice it?" The tall sandy blonde asked.

[User] "I honestly noticed that too. It was indeed quiet when we got here. Barely any cars", he said to him as he acted a little cautious as he thought over Nancy's warning. "I also noticed that prostitute business ratings are decreasing as well. Haven't seen the young ladies around lately", Tom said aloud. Nancy did tell them that the young women are self-governing themselves from the police. Basically their at war against law enforcement. The prostitutes were guarding the far side of the city where they were retreating. Girls like Becky were "free-roamers". They don't tend to stay on their own turf, instead they just roam around the city as rogues.

[Assistant] Chris nodded in agreement. He felt edgy being here now than he was before. At first he played it off, then when someone talked about it, he opened his eyes and saw that it wasn't safe for either of them. "Well. We could always stick around till the show is over, then head back together to the hotel, leave by morning. If this isn't a safe place to be we shouldn't be here any longer than we need to. I don't want anything to happen to us that is going on around here." This was only a suggestion so this was also up to Tom.

[User] Tom nodded in agreement before finishing his water. "Fine by me", he said to him before placing his hand in Chris' own. Tom, honestly thought that leaving here was a bad idea. He would miss Nancy. Heck, he just met her in person. He would also miss the ladies here. Before he met Chris, he used to hire the girls as their client. The one he missed was Becky. Becky was the youngest of the Girls of Old Town which was where he and Chris are currently residing. Tom treated her with care whenever she came over even though she was in her mid-twenties and also was a bit smaller. But he couldn't blame her. He knew that Becky was the rogue on the streets, barely working now.

[Assistant]
Chris felt a bit out of place about this, but he honestly didn't know what else to do. Turning his hand to intertwine his hand with Tom's, looking at his hand before bringing them up to place a kiss on the top of Tom's hand. "Come on. Lets go watch the rest of the show." Chris didn't want to think about this anymore. Just have a good time with his love, watching their favorite dancer. Only after will Chris would want to worry about the rest of the town.

Later that late night after the show, Chris and Tom are walking from the club to their hotel in Old Towne. Chris had become cautious since they left. Worried about anyone who wanted to jump them. The tall blonde didn't like being so uptight and having to watch every shadow and street corner. It felt ridiculous, 'cluding he had planned a practically carefree night with just the two of them. But it didn't seem that was going to happen and he felt bummed about it. Having intertwined his fingers in Tom's, Chris tried to not to make himself tense in of which was working for Tom was with him.

While the two lovers walked, Becky was on the other side of the street they were about to cross. Arms crossed over her chest, feeling a little chilly. The jacket she had was helping but not by much, roaming around doing odd jobs and such had its perks but not by much. Including if she had to find new places to sleep. Her dark hair down to keep the back of her neck warm, her hands under arms, she seemed to be waiting one someone or just be there to be there. It would be hard to tell. Beck didn't notice the two lovers on the other side of the street when she looked about. Turning around and going to lean against a wall, impatience taking over.

[User]
Tom followed Chris out and from the club. Tom did notice Chris' protective instincts kick in everytime they passed a street or a corner. It was dark outside and thunder with lightning showed above them without raining. It was always crazy stormy in Old Towne. But strange nights included no rain. Even though it was dangerous around here, Tom and Chris had made some friends around here. They were roommates with Shellie, ex-girlfriend and currently a friend with Chris. Tom liked Shellie even though he was with Chris now. There was no jealousy in Shellie at all, nor did she mind. He knew Becky for a while too. The girl was a rogue and she tends to refuse shelter even though she looks like she needs it.

Speaking of Becky, Tom noticed a female figure across the street and saw that it was indeed Becky. "Chris, hold on", he stopped him with a tug of his hand and pointed to the young girl. Tom walked to her and tapped her shoulder to get her attention. "Becky?"

[Assistant] Chris stopped upon Tom's request, though unsure as to why, but looked over to see it was a young female. Following Tom, he stayed close, though wondered why the no rain didn't come. The thunder and lightening always to seem to be around the Old Towne. When Tom went to get her attention, the girl known as Becky jumped a little before she looked in their direction. "Tom?" When she noticed it was Tom, she smiled, seeing she was happy to see him. "Hey! Long time no see! How have you been?" She looked to see Chris. The Sandy blonde held his hand out to Becky. "Chris. Tom's boyfriend." Becky looked him over before accepting his hand and shook it. "Becky. Tom's friend." They would then end the hand shake. "Well that's a handsome man you have there Tom. Congrats."

[User] "How's my girl?", Tom asked her as he kissed her forehead. "This is Chris, my soulmate", he introduced Chris to Becky and watched as they shaked hands. "Chris, this is Becky. I was her client before you and me even met. We are just friends, nothing else", Tom said to Chris as he wrapped an arm around Becky to stroke her right arm to keep her warm.

[Assistant] Becky couldn't help but feel excited and happy to meet Tom after so long. Hugging Tom, feeling him trying to keep her warm a little. Chris didnt seem to have an issue about the partnership between Tom and Becky. He didn't see why he needed to be jealous or anything. Becky though soon ended the hug. "I've been doing okay. Nothing new besides the usual. The Odd jobs here and there. How have you been?" Becky didn't mind interacting with friends or people she knew and liked. Seemed she had no where to go as of this moment.

[User] "Oh, you know. The usual. Taking shots here and there", Tom said with a chuckle and the movement of his head side to side. "How is the job? Are you doing alright? They better treat you right", Tom said to her in a protective. Honestly, Tom was protective of the Girls of Old Towne. Both Prostitutes and Civilians. He was friends with almost every girl in the city but some depend on their independence to survive instead of calling for help. Like Becky. He did make up a rule of his own for the city: Never harass or harm a female in Old Towne.

[Assistant]
Becky leaned back against the wall she had been leaning against from the start, listening to Tom questions, smiling at the end of them before she answer in order for her to talk. He would keep asking questions till he had no more to ask. "The jobs are good, honest work. Nothing too big but enough to get by. I can go up to about two weeks or less till they don't need me depending on the job. I get paid on some sort of fashion be it food, money or furniture. Normally the furniture goes to the prostitutes. I have no big need for normally what they give me." Becky explained with a shrug. "I have had no problems and even so I can hold my own."

Chris watched Tom as he seemed to be protective, though saw now harm for friends were protective of friends. I he was protective of his friends. So no biggy. He listened, let them catch up, Chris looked around. He had been calm but had left his guard down. He watched the streets, the allies that he could see and anything within his line of vision.

[User] Tom kissed her forehead and looked down the dark alley. After a moment, his phone rings. "Hello?" "No, my dear, we're fine" "Really?" "Alright" "We're on our way" "Ok, bye bye" he hangs up and turns to Chris. "Shellie calls, my friend. She expects us home by now", he finished as his face was turned into a frown before looking at Becky. He didn't want to leave her in the cold like this, but everytime he asks, she says 'no'. She knew better to at least find shelter like everyone else these days. But in Old Towne, it was a recurring hell-house for violence. "I don't trust the lady of this town. Ava Lordship? Heard of her?", he asked Chris. "That whore...", he growled aloud to himself.

[Assistant] Chris nodded when Tom told him about Shellie calling and what she called for. Becky looked a little confused but it didnt seem to be anything new. Becky though knew of who Tom asked if his lover knew of Ava Lordship. Becky did and hated the woman with a bloody passion. Always thought of ways to get rid of her for good. Chris shook his head. "No. I haven't. Who is she?" He asked, not really knowing the woman at all. He though wondered why his lover seemed to hate her.

[User] "Ava Lordship is a femme fatale. She was elected as a Lady of the State to takeover this town. But, in reality, she is a professional devourer of men. She had affairs with lots of them and she destroyed dozens of them. If you know what I mean, she is like a siren", Tom snarled in disgust for ever describing the woman. Rumor has it that she killed the man she loved so much, she betrayed him and became a very rich woman. "Chris, that woman is sick. Never trust her. She is the devil in this town", he told him as if it were a warning. Tom turned to Becky. "I'm sorry, my dear, but we have to go. Are you sure you're gonna be alright?"

[Assistant]
Chris took Tom's words to heart. He knew when he was joking, playing around, serious, didn't care or notice, angry and upset. Normally by the tones of which he used and the faces he made. Chris noticed how much he hated the woman he spoke of. Ava Lordship. He didn't like seeing Tom angry like this. Chris moved his hand to intertwine with Tom's in hopes of calming the man a little, to pull him from his hatred of a woman he need not concern himself with for now.

Becky smiled sadly, knowing of his hatred for Lady Lordship. She too knew of what people said about her. And none good. But there was nothing they could really do but survive in this city. When Tom told him what they had to do and if she was going to be alright. "I will be fine Tom. You two head home. Be safe." She said, a friendly smile of her face. "I hope to see you later." When Tom was ready, Chris walked with him home.

[User]
Tom looked at Becky with a sad smile as he looked at Becky. Guilt started to rise as he thought of leaving her out here. But he knew that she was smart. He saw this every once in a while during their "meetings" like before. His mind was turning as he thought of Lady Lordship. The woman was sick indeed. She was a slut that killed men for money. Especially the richer ones. All everyone should know is to stay away from her and her money.

He was cut out of his thoughts before he felt Chris tug his hand so they could go home to Shellie. He reached for Becky and left a kiss to the forehead before following Chris. The thunder and lightning strike the area as they walked. Surprisingly with no rain. It took them not very long before they reached the hotel. Walking up two flights of stairs they managed to make it to their room to where Shellie was staying.

[Assistant] Chris had nothing to say to keep their minds off the rainless storm over them, and this Ava Lordship Tom hated so much. Chris wish he could do something about it but there was nothing he could do but protect Tom and make him happy. With arriving to the the Hotel after a little tiring from the two flights of steps, the tall sandy blonde opened the door. Walking in and one to shut the door once Tom was in and taking off his jacket. He looked around the hotel room for any changes that he should notice be it good or bad.

[User] After entering the apartment, Tom let out a relieving sigh to get off the streets for the night. He was worried for Becky out there. And after talking about the Lady of the State, he just wanted to get that sick woman out of existence. Walking to the bedrooms, he opened the door, seeing Shellie sleeping soundly upon the bed with the tv still on. He eventually turned it off before moving a hair away from her face and kissing her forehead. He felt that Shellie was like a sister to him. A younger one. Closing the door behind him, he walked back to the couch and slumped on the floor in front of it, leaning on it.

[Assistant] Chris set his jacket on one of the chairs within the hotel before getting a glass of water before he walked back to see Tom infront of the couch, slumped before it and leaning. walking to the couch and sitting on the floor next to Tom and setting his glass on the other side of him. Reaching around Tom, he slowly pulls Tom to him in a one armed hug of sorts. "You okay?" He asked, using his other hand to mess up his hair a little than its usual sleekness before his attention was on Tom.

[User] "Barely", he responded honestly as he felt Chris give affextion to him. It made him feel safe and loved. "It's Becky. I don't know what to do with her. She's out there...in a dangerous city where death is everywhere. You heard Nancy. These streets are forbidden to walk on at night", he exhaled as he rambled. "And that sick woman...", he snarled in disgust as he remembered talking about Ava.