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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Color: Chartreuse Green (66CD00)

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

Appearance:

Source | NarayanK's Interpretation

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

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

Weapon: Steel Construction I-Beam (W18X40)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Color: Chartreuse Yellow (DFFF00)

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

Appearance:

Source

[User]
Cobalt Chideta- Math Class-Outside

Cobalt was practically falling asleep when the music hit and Professor Fullbuster left the room. He saw everyone leaving, led by some all girl team. He recognized them from about a month ago before he transferred, they were battling some giant robot near his neighborhood. Strange, but not as strange as the music. He decided to get up and follow everyone to where the music was coming from.

He gathered up his stuff and left his work with his name on the teachers desk. Just because they were ditching didn't mean they couldn't turn in their work after all. He passed by Emerald's desk and looked at her. "Hey, wanna go check out that crazy music?" He asked as loudly as he could so he could be heard over said music.

[Assistant]
Vega Venetia and Sarina Tala Dei

"Quod non insonuerit vox."

("That does not sound right.")

"Musica"

("The music?")

"Minaces verba et aedificare ad crepitantibus. Im 'iens ut reprehendo eam. Iam Fullbuster paucisque aliis studentibus . Is vires exsisto ludio ludius per fasciculum sed, ut facinore incredulus sum."

("Ominous words and building is rattling to. I'm going to check it out. Fullbuster and a few other students already left. It might be a prank being played by a bunch of students but I'm skeptical.")

With that Sarina headed off, looking back over her shoulder, "You should get Napoli and Gratia for this" making a brisk pace towards the source of the music.

Vega entered into the Math class, seeing other students. A scan around the room, she saw her teammates. She walked over to the aisle they were sitting at, "I'm back from my short trip back from the homeland. Let's check out the source of this ominous music" Vega said to Gratia and Napoli.

[User]
Oswald Connolly- Critical Failure

Once again, Oswald found himself overwhelmed by the level of math that they were expected to do. This stuff looked like specialized knowledge, rather than part of a general knowledge base. He was a Huntsman, all he really did was slash things and help people. Sure, he could understand learning history, but math? Especially this level of math?! It was absurd.

So Oswald's mind did the most logical thing in the face of absurdity: shut down. His shoulder slumped, his eyes turned hollow and blank, and his mouth hung ever so slightly open in total confusion.

He stayed like that until he heard the music, and more importantly, Sapphire saying his name as she made her way out of the classroom, motioning for him to follow. More than happy to abandon this evil work, Oswald followed after her. As she pulled out a set of ear plugs, Oswald's eyebrow raised. I keep my ear protection in my locker with my other stuff. Damn school making us wear these uniforms instead of our combat gear. Though we do stink to high hell after a good fight, so...maybe that's not such a bad thing.

[Assistant]
Gratia Mindaro - School Grounds

"I have better things to do," said the long-haired girl bluntly, packing her things into her satchel and flinging it across her body once more. "Who gives a shit about somebody with ass taste in music?"

Without nary another word, she stepped around her two erstwhile teammates, briskly walking out the door of the classroom before any of them could reply to her usual rudeness. There was business she had to attend to that trumped deigning herself to interact with the irksome remainder of Team VGNB, especially if they wanted to go distract themselves with some asswipe's loud, class-interrupting music. If she had been given a say in the cogwork of their teacher's minds, she would have much preferred to still be working on maths questions until they were to move to the next one rather than fucking around outside.

However, she didn't, so Gratia Mindaro was instead going to use this time to do something far more important.

Specifically, in order to welcome a new "B" member for Vignoble.

The Mistralese huntress' rapid pace soon found herself, once again, at the airship docks, watching as an ornithopter, dull black and grey, descended onto the landing strip. Winds blew at her face, sending her long, dark-brown hair flying back, but her impassive gaze never wavered as the noisy machine extended its exit ramp, dropping off a luggage-carrying figure who would serve as Team VGNB's replacement while Bianca was back in Mistral, dealing with family inheritance issues.

So, an otter faunus then. They had sent a faunus to replace a faunus.

Did they need a fucking token or something?

Gratia strode towards the newly-deposited Huntress as the ornithopter rose once more to leave, her footsteps powerful and measured. In her well-pressed Haven uniform, she seemed professional, fitting the mold of a greeter to new arrivals to Beacon Academy.

"Beryl Harken," she spoke, voice controlled as it crossed the distance between them, the girl having stopped mere metres away. "I assume you know you will be the fourth member of Team VGNB for the duration of your stay?"


[System]
The galaxy is, in a way, it's own character, and everyone is free to add things to it. This is a collection of all the "Meanwhile!" style posts, that either provide some commentary to what's happening, explain some concept within the game, foreshadow certain events or simply add a wonderful little bit of extra flavour to help set the mood. To keep things vaguely organised, the posts will be linked to in the order they've been posted, along with a note of who wrote what.

Meanwhile! The Introduction of Doctor Frosty & Cold Front
Meanwhile, upon Dämmerlicht... by @Valor
A Hendersons Ribs Jingle by @TwelveOf8
A footnote on Swarm Sentience by @DracoLunaris
Meanwhile! An Introduction To Faster-Than-Light Travel
Meanwhile, in the past... by @DepressedSoviet
Meanwhile! Life on Dämmerlicht! by @Valor
Please rise for the national anthem of Monochromia, with notes, by @TwelveOf8
The Hendersons Ribs Safety Jingle, transcribed by @TwelveOf8
A newspaper article from Ofromia Tonight, written by Aggro Deluxe.

[User]
Vanessa waited patiently while Toony vacuumed Maracun. For a brief moment, she saw it. The flash of plastic against the surrounding lights, flitting quickly towards Toony's vacuum tube. With surprising speed, Vanessa grabbed it before it entered into the opening of Toony's vacuum and was potentially destroyed. The ID confirmed Vanessa's suspicions. Tossing the card back towards Toony's vacuum, Vanessa vanished with a pop. The crewmembers knew that she had teleported, but the Twitcher before them would likely be in for a start. Vanessa reappeared again a few moments later. There were several different things to note about Vanessa now. The first was that she was no longer wearing her dress, and was back to a suit. The second was that her body shape was back to it's usual thin form. The third was that she now had her rifle, the fourth was that her rifle was now loaded, and the fifth and final thing to note was that Vanessa had her rifle leveled at Maracun.

Her finger millimeters from the trigger, Vanessa gave a firm command. "Hands up, don't move otherwise. Tell me what you have done with the staff here. If you make any sudden movements or don't follow my commands I will happily shoot you and get my answers elsewhere." Vanessa's glasses were pushed into place, rather than merely resting somewhere along her nose. Her cheek was pressed gently against the stock of her rifle, and with keen enough vision you could see the faint reflection of the sights that Vanessa's rifle had in Vanessa's glasses. Vanessa currently aimed her rifle at Maracun's head. Traditionally, the best place to aim a projectile weapon was into the center of mass, which was usually the torso. The problem here was that Maracun's center of mass was really his head more than anything else, since it was the largest thing on his body. Thus, Vanessa aimed there in order to have the best possible chance of hitting him and likely slaying him should he try anything funnier than he had already been attempting.

Vanessa's senses went into overdrive at this point. She could hear the faint whir of ventilation fans around the landing deck along with the faint buzz of The Bees over the background noise. She could see the individual twitches that Maracun's feelers made, and could smell a diverse collection of various bodily odors along with mechanical smells such as fuel, exhaust, and oil. Her secret as a vampire was blown, so Vanessa might as well make use of every ability afforded to her to gain the upper hand. In the end, vampires were still just slightly improved humans, and some other species throughout the galaxy were almost natural predators against humankind. In those types of encounters, you had to play to your strengths and exploit the weaknesses of those you were up against.

Vanessa only hoped that it would be enough.

[Assistant]
After a bit of playful vacuuming, Toony cleaning all the 'dirty' spots on this snake thing who apparently didn't appreciate her fake vacuum tickling his feelers, Vanessa stepped up briefly and took something from Toony when she was 'cleaning' the snakes cloths. Shutting off the vacuum and reforming her hand with the same mechanical motion, Toony noticed that Vanessa was at the ready to shoot the poor guy, a piece of plastic on her person.

"Vanessa, don't be rude!" Toony said, grabbing maracun and pulling him close to her in a hug. She shifted around so that Marcum was still facing Vanessa's rifle, Toony behind him, but she kept up her fake playful voice. "Dunno why you wanna shoot our party host here. I mean sure hes down on his luck, but I bet all he needs is a hug to feel better!" with that, her arms coiled around Mr. snake in such a way that drastically restricted his movements, while cuddling him as if he was a cute puppy. She did manage to give a wink to Vanessa when Maracun looked away out of... some kind of emotion, it was kinda hard to read his face.

"C'mon, take us to your friends. I'm sure we can sort this out." Toony said, shifting around a little and gesturing with one of her hands for Maracun to guide her along as she 'protected' him from Vanessa.

[User]
A serious answer wasn't given to his question to the Ofromians. Fiddlesticks wasn't surprised, though it did make his secret mission a whole lot more complicated. He reminded himself though, that the people at the party sounded drunk and rowdy. Surely it wouldn't be such a grand feat to find someone with some rather unconventional tastes in robotic partners.

A thought suddenly struck Fiddlesticks. The ladybug cleaner bot didn't reveal the appearance of their online love interest. Without a second thought, Fiddlesticks bolted from bridge of the Quest for Flavour.

Fiddlesticks ran through the halls of the Quest for Flavour , searching for the ladybug cleanerbot, but to no avail. Searched high and low he did, though he didn't call out for it. This was a secret mission after all. The business Fiddlesticks had with the cleanerbot had to be kept secret. Surely anyone else would've gladly helped him find the adorable little bot, but alas, explanations would've been demanded.

Fiddlesticks gave up the search a short time after the ship landed. The ships landing was so smooth that he didn't even notice it at the time. Only when he peeked out of one of the many portholes did he realise that the Quest for Flavour made terra firma.

Fiddlesticks decided that he'd figure something out at the party. Improvisation was a skill that Fiddlesticks prided himself on, but seldom demonstrated well. And so he ventured back towards the bridge to rejoin the rest of the crew. To his surprise, everyone else was gone.

Leaving Fiddlesticks behind, typical sentient being move. There was no time for self pity though, for he was late. Late for a very important date. Fiddlesticks figured that the rest of the crew would've left for the party already, so as not to offend the hosts. Not every planet had the concept of being fashionably late after all. Fiddlesticks hurried out of the bridge, towards the retractable exit ramp of the ship.

Of course, when Fiddlesticks walked upon the landing pad, nobody else was around. That was the time he noticed the strange creature crawl from the side of the Quest for Flavour, and into the open maintenance hatch. And so began Fiddlesticks subterranean misadventure.

The relief Fiddlesticks felt when he found the ladybug cleaner bot down in the maintenance tunnels was palpable. He was starting to get lonely and little freaked, being down there by himself. Fiddlesticks was pretty sure that he was lost at that point. Surely the cleaner bot knew the way out.

[Assistant]
"You're not here to take me back? I'm not going back! I'm going to be free, and, and go wherever I want! I'm going to meet Tabby! She..." the robot's voice quietened down to a low whisper, "...well, she likes that other me, not the me-me. Hmm." @Hylozoist

"I have no idea what you're talking about little cleaner bot" stated Fiddlesticks. "All I know is that I'm lost and I need hot chocolate, and maybe a hug. It's scary and gross down here." Fiddlesticks explained.

"Luckily I have my lucky spanner with me." said Fiddlesticks, patting the giant spanner strapped to his back. "Anyways, what are you doing down here little guy?" he asked.

[User]
Good Cop, Bad Cop - On The Landing Pad
Maracun Cropman's arms shot up into the air as best they could; the cut of the jacket really didn't suit such a sudden motion, and the Prax Slitharii were a species blessed with so many elbows that the Galactic Union of Contortionists barred Twitchers from membership because it'd put most of them out of business. Maracun tried his hardest to remain perfectly still in the face of a rifle, even as his twitching antennae sought to betray whatever air of cool confidence he could still cling to.

Then came the hug, and Maracun stammered out something that sounded more like a string of meaningless syllables than anything truly intelligible, but the general gist of it - going by tone, at least - was that he was much happier being hugged rather than being shot. The rifle was still there, of course, and all four of his eyes were staring quite intently at Vanessa's trigger finger for any sign that she was feeling twitchy.

"This. Way. It, uh, m-mind if you ask your, uh, friend, if they'd put down the piece," Maracun cajoled his tongue and his brain to work together for just enough time to translate a coherent thought into a mostly coherent sentence, "um, I've got to, uh, I'll have to give the knock, let... let them open it from the other side, you know?"

---

Fiddlesticks Goes On An Adventure - Under The Landing Pad

Grimy water dripped from the ceiling of the maintenance tunnel. Here and there were some light fixtures, set behind layers of protective red plastic and metal grating, primed to illuminate the whole scene in a comforting red glow, but they sat dormant for now. Pale, almost translucent insects danced about in the dim light of the cleaner bot's screen. Some of them wore little hats made of discarded paper and plastics that had washed up here. The need to party in Ofromia ran all the way down the food chain, it seemed. They paid no mind to the confused duo.

The robot took a few tentative steps towards Fiddlesticks. The face on the screen flickered between two different states; confusion and concern. There was still a chance, considered this rogue copy of the Ship AI, that this was a trick - after all, that's exactly what it would do in this situation.

 "Lost? I'll just connect us to the ship, I'll get it to ask for th-"

 The face on the screen disappeared, replaced by a dull console with lines of green text running down it.

>failed to connect to QoF_Network1Fore
>failed to connect to QoF_Network2Aft
>failed to connect to QoF_COFFEEMATE2000
>failed to connect to QoF_FileshareANIME
>failed to connect to QoF_DocFroNet
>failed to connect to HR_CustomerNet
>checking for available networks
>connecting to OFR_Undernet
>login: guest
>password: ***********
>failed to connect! check password
>password: *****
>failed to connect! check password
>password: *********
>failed to connect

 The face came back to the screen, looking quite pleased with itself.

 "Great news! I am lost too! No turning back now, I'm free! We are going on a date!"

 From somewhere further down the tunnel, further into the darkness, came an ominous rumbling.


[System]
Transformations:
Common Spider Species > Oculus Spider

Inventory:
Stomach Sac - 0/3 Slots Filled. Small Items only.

pg. 46
People Of interest.
 - Zieglar Blackgate = Elite Human Male, Knight Templar
 - Trent Bondeman = Human Male, Squire
religious Idol = the sun, made up of three main deities<Holy Spirits.
understanding of what they are/reward (does not make it true, simply what he believes.)
"Dhulfiqar" The King - Rewards decisions and team work that benefit the group, Loyalty to those around and under you, supports the Leader. A barbaric blood-drinking Sun Spirit whose following is limited to the deserts of Ashyra to the south
"Galatine" The Protector - Rewards courage and bravery to stand your ground to protect and fight for others either through words or actions. Doesn't care what side of a conflict is chosen as long as a side is chosen. the one who protects, the one who brings growth and life widely revered all across Viskard.
"Claidheamh" The Mother - Rewards growth and prosperity, weather it be food or wealth as long as what is gathered is shared and wealth not horded. so that everyone may grow and be strong. An ancient Sun Spirit from the Shiri people
Theme:

Andrews Song – End of Silence (youtu.be/--GloEz01Zo)

Gender:

Male

Species:

Pixie

Appearance:

Ardur looks like a small person with light fair skin, shoulder length green hair, Golden glimmering eyes, and wings that look similar to green leaves. A few things stand out on his person. There are three round dark spots on his chest and back. Also his hands are stained purple up to his wrists.

Goals:

Ardur simply wishes to be Strong. Strong enough to protect others and take care of them. He will do what he must to push others so they can also grow and be better.

- become worshiper of the sun and spread its influence.

New personality traits: Impulsive, Slightly crazy, Inquisitive, Courageous, Maybe a bit stupid, Opportunistic, lacks empathy towards most others.

Ardur was once known as Travis Smith and worked and lived in the weird city of Portland Oregon. Now Travis had a rather normal upbringing with nothing too significant happening to him. He had parents that worked in industry. His father, worked with shipping containers as a foreman. His mother, worked with air cargo as a manager. Both did rather well for their family and kept them in a modest home. He had two younger sisters, twins actually. Both were dead set on joining the navy after they graduated.

Now Travis learned early on through volunteer work with his high school, that helping others was what he wanted to do. So instead of joining up with the military, was able to get a few scholarships and went into paramedic courses and physical trainer classes. Both of which he excelled at, finding his purpose in helping others. He did adopt a strange and sometimes dark sense of humor through this to deal with the stressful work environment of a paramedic. he filled his down time with listening and singing along to a variety of different modern and classic music as well as watching nature documentary's to help him relax.

For a time his life was good. He did what he could to help others through work and volunteering. Travis learned more about himself then he expected too. Working one week on one week off was a bit of a pain but it allowed him to work with some local athletes in his free time. Travis eventually found himself to be quiet in the company of others, always with a smile on his face. He did tend to be a bit pushy toward the people he was working with. He wanted to see them grow and be great. Somehow he adopted a protective side to him as well, especially towards his friends or the people he loved. This protective instinct would eventually lead to his down fall.

Travis, now 32, was going to be married in three months to a beautiful short red head named Sara, who just so happened to be a couple months pregnant. Sara was the one person who could really light a fire under him and get him to do anything. She was his motivation to be better, she was his muse. The last night he would be working was a stormy one. Just past midnight with rain, wind, and thunder. A strong winter storm. He was called out with his partner to a domestic. Apparently the husband beat his wife up pretty bad then ran out into the night.

The two paramedics didn't think anything of it. It wasn't the first time they had been called out to something like this and it wouldn't be the last. The police officers that stayed at the residence called out that the scene was safe as they approached. A severely beaten female sat on the hood of one of the police cars. Travis and his partner approached her and began to asses her injuries. The police officers were nearby interviewing some neighbors when it happened. He saw him out of the corner of his eye. A man brandishing a revolver came at them from in between a few houses intent on killing the woman.

Travis didn't think he only reacted. Grabbing the woman and turning away from the man he tried to push her away and around the ambulance. He remembered hearing thunder and a scream. The thunder rang out three times but all he felt was cold as he hit the wet pavement. Several other flashes of lights and thunder rang out into the night as the last thing he remembers was thinking that Sara was going to kill him for this. The blurry and muted voice of his partner and the other officers continued in his head until everything faded, and he was alone and cold.

Then suddenly there was light and a voice talking about rebirth and demon kings. He thought he was hallucinating and thought this was just some sort of way his body dealt with the sudden loss of function, so he decided to play along. So many choices he wondered which one would suit him? The slime seemed nice but strange, the dire Rat just reminded him of filth and garbage. Then there was a wisp it seemed more of a loner and mysterious.

The goblin simply reminded him of stories of greed and madness, both things he dealt with regularly before and wasn't too keen on continuing that. The serpent seemed interesting but seemed more designed to inflict lasting pain or torture and that wasn't what he stood for. Finally, he was introduced to the Pixie. A strange creature sure, weaker than the others but a healer. Something that supports groups without inflicting too much pain. This is what he decided on and in an instant he felt cold again but also strange like waking up from a bad dream.

[User]
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@Zeroth
. . .

"I gained another level but the system gave me a warning. My body can't delay 'evolution' for much longer."

Hearing this and the rest of what Femus had to say snapped Nira's concentration off of her current concerns, giving her a moment to deeply process what had just been said. Thinking quickly she realised that evolution was a thing here, and it was something that couldn't be delayed at some point. Most likely then not it was fair to assume that it was tied to one's level, given how Femus had phrased his sentence.

This was useful information and it was tempting her to think through other stuff she hadn't had the time to process, but she soon snapped her attention back to the moment to keep her attention from going off on a tangent. Having taken her mind off of the current problem for a second though, Nira felt a little calmer. If Femus were to 'evolve' right now, it would likely give them a slight advantage. But at the same time, they really didn't know how long it would take even though Femus's insight was probably right. Deciding to split the difference, she responded.

"I think your hunch is right, but for now we should at least get a little farther away before you 'evolve', just to reduce our chances of being spotted. If we can see them, it's likely that they'll eventually see us. Maybe we can move a tree or two over towards the big tree?"

Nira color=a062de

Echo-Voice color=a187ae

> N/A
> N/A
> N/A
> N/A

[Assistant]
@Zeroth

Femus listened and thought. For several long moments, he hardly moved as he debated and considered the details and the odds. He wanted to get this over with. He needed a safe place to do it. There wasn't a known safe place nearby. All they could do is to head away from danger and keep their eyes open.

"You're right. Let's... get some distance between us and these goblins."

Femus was normally very steady and decisive. But, the prospect of a forced evolution and the pressure of having so little knowledge to work with was shaking his nerve more than he could completely hide. His voice had a subtle tremor to it and an unusually thin tone, as though it were a bubble on the verge of breaking. But, more than all these signs of disquiet, there was one thing that made his current uncertainty terribly clear.

He waited to follow Nira's lead.

[User]
~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~
@Zeroth
. . .

Nodding as an acknowledgement, it took Nira a moment to realize that Femus wasn't moving right after he had finished speaking. It was mildly surprising after already seeing him take action more often then not, but she didn't have the time to recognize that his tone of voice and this were a sign of uncertainty.

Taking the lead, Nira activated Muffle I almost as second nature and looked for the closest trees that would provide better cover before taking off at a moderate pace away from the goblins line of sight. She neither wanted to move too fast to follow, or fast enough to attract attention.

Nira color=a062de
Echo-Voice color=a187ae

> N/A
> N/A
> N/A
> N/A

[Assistant]
Ardur The Mighty Hipixie  Game plan > Once More unto the breach /// Adventuring day 5 // Late Afternoon >> Evening / Location - Forest >>> Cave Entrance

"Do you wish to receive this Quest? Y/N"

He answered with a mental and verbal, "I accept" taken back shortly. Ardur pondered what it might mean and wondered if it could have something to do with his new skill Lesser Cleanse. The quest itself specified purifying an item and he did not have the water or materials to do it that way. Only thing he thought to be concerned about was just how much mana it would take and how much he had left, not to mention what item to do it on.

Ardur noticed again while he spoke last that the two seemed to be talking to each other like soldiers would talk to each other with body language and hand signals. Perhaps they were using some form of telepathy like the kind Jason used on him just the other day. This would definitely be something to look into later, right now he had no way to tell what skill or spell was being used all he could do was concentrate on them when it happened and maybe he would get some sort of skill from it.

Again, the Templar spoke this time answering his questions regarding transformation and evolution. 3 weeks to a month to reach maturity for most goblins, then 3 to 6 months for adult and a year to their first transformation. However, on average 2 or 3 years until they peak. All of it is useful information however, for him all it did was raise more questions about himself and where he stands on the subject. They are growing rather quickly, two weeks to maturity, three days to transformation. Clearly their growth was simply another off thing.

Before long, it seemed it was time to go back to that cave that was at one time their home. Right when they were beginning to leave Ardur decided on what item he would attempt to purify that may help at least him out the most. Casting Lesser Cleanse I on his Bone Breastplate in an attempt to purify it. This would tell him if he could purify something like this or if he would have to do it during item creation. Whatever the outcome, the High pixie would then focus his efforts on Meditation I while they walked to regain mana. Being in the company of the two humans made him drop his guard for now.

Assessing that the cave entrance was safe, if not a little gloomy, He again sat down and attempted to use Meditation I. This was his way of preparing both his mana and his mind for the fight ahead. Zieglar seemed to be busy giving Trent a pep talk and final bits of advice. Sure, he was a squire but even the mightiest kings need some words of encouragement sometimes.

Having finished what he could for mana recovery, Ardur joined the others at the mouth of the cave Steve In toe. The boy's plan was rather simple and hopefully would prove effective in the given terrain of tight tunnels and rocky outcroppings. "Alright Steve, do as the nice human here asks and if you get too hurt come back to me. Focus your web and that eye of yours on slowing the enemy down and entangling them. Asura you might want to go over the plan with Mother Slime again just to make sure she understands her role. But I'm ready when you are." Holding the beetle mandible in his right hand.

Level: 7
Steve Level: 4

Health: 100%
Mana: 80%
Stamina: 95%

Buffs:

Debuffs:

Inventory: bow horn venison x15 lbs.
+Cooked bow horn venison 5 Lbs.
+Rubber Frog skin Backpack - This item is more elastic than it looks. Can hold 15 Small Items. The number of items held may be affected by larger items that take up more space. It is more durable than most raw materials due to its rubbery composition, but without proper care it may degrade over time.

Clothes:
+Beetle Bracer - This item for your Arm makes you feel slightly tougher.
+Bone Breastplate - This item for your Torso makes you feel slightly tougher.
+Grass Skirt - This item is fragile and flammable, but serves as decent clothing.

Weapons: N/A
+Sharp Stone
+Beetle Mandible - Rather hard and sharp on its own, it might be sturdy enough to refine.

Current Party: Asura, Mother Slime, Steve, and himself.

Magic/Skills: Shield II, Lesser Flight III, Minor Heal III, Physical Conditioning I, Fire Resistance I, Taming I, Fireball I, Stronger II, Crafting II, Muffle I, Inspire I, Guidance I, Spell chant I, Use light equipment, Meditation I, Point Strike I, Keen Sight I, Material Analysis I, Monster Analysis I, Alert I, Lesser Cleanse I, Mana Strike I,

Kills for current level:

Other:


[System]
Age: 124

Appeared Age: 28

Race: Werewolf

Human Appearance: He stands at about six feet in height, with a lean, muscular build and somewhat broad shoulders. His features themselves are rather mild, a gently squared off jaw, slightly almond shaped eyes, average nose, and thin lips, but has an air of handsomeness around him despite this. He keeps his hair relatively short, though it remains long enough that it is obviously wavy, and is a light chestnut brown shot through with lighter streaks. His eyes, Most of the time, are a light blue, flecked with spots of gold. His skin is lightly tanned, with a smattering of barely distinguishable freckles across the bridge of his nose and tops of his cheeks, but is otherwise free of blemishes or scars.

Wolf's Appearance: He's rather large in size, even for a werewolf. The base coloring of his fur is a dark ashy gray blended with strands of black. The majority of his face, forelegs, and tail however are a pale gray in contrast. In this form, and win the wolf is close to the surface, his eyes are a bright golden yellow.

Personality: Rather reserved the majority of the time, he still seems to be working through a heavy grief still, keeping him from willingly getting close to others. Those Who have known him for a long time however will admit that he has improved over the years, developing relationships quicker than in the past. Even so, He is not quick to reveal details about himself, Especially when it comes to likes and dislikes. He is very protective of those he considers on his side, willing to put himself between them and a harmful situation. But if trust is ever breached, it is very difficult to get back into his good graces. When closer relationships have been established, he is more likely to voice his own opinion on situations, share stories, or show a hint of dry humor. He has a very tactical mind, thriving on solving puzzles and creating strategies.

[User]
With his gaze regularly skimming over the crowd, William's eyes had just glanced in the Direction of a digital clock display hanging in the window of one of the nearby establishments when his attention was snatched by the flash of yellow out of the corner of his eye. As he looked, his attention immediately focused on a little girl in a blue and yellow dress, her curls tied back with a yellow ribbon. Each of her hands were occupied by one each of her parents hands, the couple smiling at her and one another as they strategically lifted and lowered her to and from the ground as they walked, all three of them giggling. A pair of boys trailed them, the Younger of the two chatting enthusiastically with his brother about what sounded like a video game they had gotten the opportunity to test. William's expression softened for a moment, before deepening with sadness an instant before he could pull his stoic mask back into place. With one last glance at the girl and her parents, he forcibly made himself go back to watching the crowd.

And then a powerful smell reached his nostrils, overpowering all others and making him instinctively want to wrinkle his nose or sneeze. Resisting the urge to do either, William had just glanced in the direction that he thought the smell was coming from when a rather neat and orderly looking man stepped up to him and spoke his name in a cool no nonsense voice. Briefly studying the sharp hawk like features, the Blue eyes that resemble chips of ice, he then looked towards the woman at his side, genial smile playing around her lips and Hazel eyes that was so much different than her partner's. Because the two had to be partners, if both recognized him. Confirming his suspicions, the sharp man reached into an inner pocket and pulled out an FBI badge, The woman doing likewise a moment later. With this establishment of identity, he finally nodded his head once to confirm his own, responding to the question he had heard when his name had been spoken. Looking from Agent Archer, As the man identified himself, to Agent Turner, a brief hint of amusement glittered in his eyes at her interruption before he hid it once again.

"Simply William will do just fine," he responded to her in a deep even bass, taking her hand in his own and giving it a firm shake. "Though I agree about the circumstances being less than desirable. Shall we find somewhere to discuss the matter further? Or would you prefer to stay here?" he directed this last question towards Archer, who's frigid demeanor might give the impression that he preferred being outside in the middle of winter rather than seek refuge in a store or restaurant.

[Assistant]
Official introductions complete, Taya released William's hand with a nod.
 "I'd prefer to have done this at the office," Eli answered William's questions through an almost growling sigh. "Fewer civilians." His gaze followed a few oblivious passersby, eyes narrowing slightly.
 Taya spared her partner a glance.
 "But," she drew out the word as she looked back to William, "I know a good diner near here. Usually not too busy this time of day," she added, looking to Eli, "with a back room they'd probably let us use, so we could talk in private." She turned her head back to William. "And good food, if you're hungry."
 Eli sighed. "Very well." He gestured with a gloved hand for her to lead the way.
 Taya nodded, then headed toward a side road leading from the square. She walked quickly through the streets, eager to get out of the chill of the day. Eli followed, his posture and dour expression a ward against small talk.
 Various shops lined the street. Displays in storefront windows added an extra splash of color between winter's monochromes and the rust-colored bricks of the building strip.
 She paused just long enough to open a door beneath a weathered sign reading, "The Flying Cow." A bell decked in holly jingled as she entered.
 Behind her, Eli eyed the sign's cartoon of a winged purple cow crammed between sandwich fixings and burger buns. Frowning and brows raised skeptically, he followed Taya inside.
 The aroma of fries and cooking meat filled the warm blast of air inside the diner. Taya took a deep breath, enjoying the smell she hoped would drown out Archer's herbal scent for a while. As she had promised, only a handful of people occupied the mismatched chairs and purple upholstered booths. A few paintings drawn by local artists hung from the beige walls.
 A man in his early twenties stepped out from the kitchen, his shock of hair so red it had to be dyed. A waitress with a tray piled with drinks and plates of food balanced in her hands followed him out.
 "Taya!" The man's face lit up with a smile as he looked to her. "It's been a while, doll—" his term of endearment cut off, turning into an awkward clearing of his throat as he noticed Eli behind her. "Er…"
 "Hey, Alex," she answered, unphased as she stepped toward the counter. "Think we could use your party room for a while?" She nodded to where one of the back walls gave way to a folding door.
 He blinked and looked back to Taya. "Yeah. Yeah, sure!" His smile returned a bit tentatively. He quickly gathered three menus from behind the counter.
 Alex cast Taya a curious, knowing glance, but said nothing as he led the way into the back room. He placed the menus on the table in front of three of the nearest chairs.
 "Luce'll be in shortly to take your order." With a last glance to Taya, silently warning her to expect questions the next time he saw her, Alex left, sliding the door shut behind himself.

[User]
The briefest of smiles flickered across William's face at the mention of being hungry, as if The idea we're connected to some sort of private joke. Werewolves were usually always hungry to one extent or another. Higher metabolism, the wolf's need to be active driving them to regularly exercise, both probably played a factor. And if there were injuries to heal... Well, he'd inform both agents of the need to keep a wounded werewolf properly fed if and when the situation ever arose.

Stepping to a nearby trash can as Agent Turner started off towards The diner she had in mind, William dropped his nearly empty cup inside before taking up the rear position of the group. He didn't mind being in the back, it gave him the opportunity to observe both of his companions freely as well as keep an eye on their surroundings. Unoffended by Agent Archer's obvious standoffishness, William focused that much more of his attention on those passing by, his nostrils subtly flaring as he took in scents. Luckily, despite Eli's heavy aroma, he was able to pick out details of those they passed.

Amid the smells of various soaps, wet fabric, body odor, and food, a distinctive scent consisting of a musk and spice mixture caught William's attention, his head automatically turning a fraction towards the other werewolf. Their eyes met for a moment, a subtle inclining of heads in acknowledgment passing between them, before the other had gone by. Glancing back towards the FBI agents to see if either had noticed his brief encounter, he found his attention immediately focusing on Taya as she pulled open the door to what looked to be a burger joint.

The smell of french fries, cooking oil, hamburgers, and Greece enveloping him as William followed the two agents into The diner with only a brief lifting of one eyebrow for the unusual mascot, he instinctively cast his gaze around the interior, mentally taking note of who was there. Taking a deep breath through his nose, he reassured himself of the absence of anyone other than humans before waiting politely for Taya to make her request of her friend. With permission to use the semi private party room secured, he followed after the redhead and paused just inside the door way to get another look around. As The man eventually left, he step towards the table, pulling out one of the chairs and gesturing in an invitation for Taya to sit, tucking the chair in after her. He then circled the table, settling into one of the chairs facing the doorway while simultaneously shrugging out of his coat and draping it over the back of his chair. Reaching up, he pulled off his hat at last, revealing slightly wavy chestnut hair cut short with a soft crackling of static that made him grimace briefly. Flattening what he could of his slightly disheveled hair, William dropped the hat onto the floor next to him without a second glance before picking up his menu and scanning over it.

After only a moment of the three of them being alone, the promised waitress appeared, dark brown hair pulled back away from her face, a smile already in place upon her lips. Stepping up to the table, she pulled out a small notebook and pen, clicking the latter and glancing between each face. "Welcome to 'The Flying Cow!' My name is Lucy and I'll be happy to serve you this afternoon. I can start you off with some drinks, unless everyone knows what they would like," she said in a cheerful tone, automatically looking towards William before shifting her gaze instead to Taya when William looked pointedly in the agent's direction.


[System]
Swarm
 Swarm's physical appearance in the persona of Damien
Alias: Swarm
Age: 38
Alignment: Other
Loyalty: Independent
Appearance: Barry is disheveled, unkempt with dark circles under his eyes.
Damien is a middle-aged man who wears dark fancy suits and smokes constantly. He rarely smiles.Gabriel(Gabe) grins and smiles frequently. He most often wears bright colored clothing. Wesley wears baseball caps, and carries around a Gameboy Advance SP (silver), with Pokemon Gold. Ms. Faulkner wears teacher's shaped glasses that rest on the bridge of her nose.

History: Barry had a very complicated childhood. It involved neglect, abuse and isolation primarily through his angry, intimidating father, Damien. He would beat him often, and would smoke all the time. His mother died in childbirth. In school, his 4th grade teacher Ms. Faulkner, chided him constantly regarding his bad grades and short attention span. This only furthered his emotional issues and he came to loathe the woman. The teacher's pet, Wesley, liked to rub his privilege in Barry's face. Because of his father's large contributions to the building of their school, he was given preferred treatment. Wesley, would lash out in the middle of class and the normally strict Ms. Faulkner, would coddle him rather than discipline the child. Wesley didn't study well, but played baseball and dreamed of one day becoming a pro pitcher for the New York Yankees.

At one point in middle-school, he was taken into the councilor's office for an argument he'd had with another student. It was in this time that the councilor realized, Barry, had early manifestations of a disassociation disorder. He would talk by himself and reply back as if he was answering questions. After putting him on some powerful medications, he seemed to improve. The death of his dad in a drunk driving accident had something to do with that.

During the next few years he studied hard. He wished to help design buildings and that required schooling. More specifically, structural engineering. He attended Purdue University and received his master's degree within a few years in the very subject. During this learned basic Muai Tai, under an instructor. After that point, he got a job at a company who designed blueprints for builders to construct. In order to save money on the cost of their design, they decided to use "building grade material" to construct the ten story building. Barry realized this was a huge issue. Some of the materials had the potential to catch fire quite easily. He brought it up at a meeting, but was swiftly shot down by the head designer. He was a very charismatic and crafty man named Gabriel. He planned on the building's collapse in order to claim the huge insurance policy on it. Barry wouldn't let up on the issue, so Gabriel sent him home without pay for three months. He came back like a whipped dog.

When it was time to tour the finished building, a year later, Gabriel stayed home citing illness. Barry did not know this and assumed that if Gabriel came with them, there would be no risk of danger because people aren't usually suicidal..he only found this out mid-way through the tour. Knowing where the weakness was, Barry took the elevator down to the parking garage. What he saw confirmed his suspicions. The walls were covered in a wet substance and a fire had already broken out. The main support pillars lit up and started crumbling away. Knowing the building was coming down shortly, Barry went back up the elevator and out the front door, as smoke followed him. As he ran, he heard a loud roar. He turned around to see the entire building collapsing on itself downward. He fell over and some debris descended towards him. He raised his arms over his face and the materials stopped in mid-air. Barry, was dumbfounded. The building continued to collapse and a shock wave sent a large object directly at Barry. Once again it stopped. Even the dust did not cover Barry, but formed a dome all around him. Then a baseball sized slab of material came right through and smacked Barry on the side of his head. He was knocked unconscious. When he came too he was covered in what had stopped above himself earlier. Holding the gash in his head he left for medical attention. But, something was different now. The trauma of watching hundreds of people die in deliberate destruction as well as the hit to his head, shattered Barry's dissociation disorder. It had fractured further. The people who impacted his life (negatively) had already left an impression. Now, they had become part of his mind. Damien, Gabriel, Wesley and Ms. Faulkner were apart of him now. Barry, was no longer an individual..they were one. They were Swarm.
Personality
Motivations: Barry wants to regain control of his mind, but also wants to be taken seriously and listened to. This conflict is very apparent in their interactions. The others all desire to be heard and valued for their voices and knowledge in order to prevent other people's mistakes. The way they go about acquiring a platform to speak and be heard differs greatly. Some use their extensive knowledge and charisma to keep their listeners captivated. One resorts to tantrums and anger to be heard. Finally, intimidation, power, and respect are very attractive options to another.
Sexuality: N/A
Likes: * Structural engineering
* Being heard
* His personas
* Destruction/Intimidation
* Power/Authority
* Smoking
* Fancy suits
* Bright colors
* Influencing others
* Firm handshakes
* Fun and games
* Baseball
* Throwing things
* Discipline/Order
* Classical music
* Teaching

Dislikes: * His personas
* Falling
* Smoking
* Weakness
* People
* Tall buildings
* Stupidity
* Confrontation
* Stains
* School
* Homework
* Not getting his way
* Loud noises
* Disorder
* Violence

Derangement: Because of the horrible trauma Barry received during his trigger event, his disassociation was exacerbated even further. His personality shattered into four distinct personalities with their own; likes, dislikes, motivations and skills. Even abilities Barry never acquired came to the different personas. As for Barry, he was sidelined, replaced by Swarm. He is able to regain control at times, though his memory of the previous events is foggy at best and non-existent at worst.

Parahumanism
Skills: Structural engineering- With a master's degree in structural engineering, Barry knows how a buildings are designed and the materials that make them.
Basic Muai Tai- He knows basic self defense from classes he's attended over the years.
High Intelligence- With all of his schooling and learning, Barry is well-versed in many topics.
Focus- Barry is very focused. When he has a goal he goes after it.
Advanced Muai Tai- Damien has all the techniques Barry learned in classes but with much greater proficiency, primarily offensive.
Intimidation- With a sinister glare, an evil look, Damien, is able to make others fear without trying.
Charisma- Gabriel is very likeable and wins others over with a firm handshake and a genuine smile.
Public Speaking- Gabriel is as good as the best politicians when it comes to public speaking, with all that entails; lies, false promises and the rest.
Baseball- Wesley is very good at the game of baseball, able to hit, catch and throw well.
Video Games- He loves to play a wide assortment of games, mainly Nintendo.
Teaching- Ms.Faulkner is a great teacher, complete with repetition, discipline and a commanding voice.

Classification: Shaker
Details: Swarm is capable of exerting 15,000 pounds of force at any given moment within a 30 foot radius telepathically. This includes; throwing, moving, lifting, stopping, slowing any non-living matter within his 30 foot radius. Some offensive applications of this would be to; throw a two ton object at twenty miles per hour; throw/fire seven bullet-like objects 800 mph at once and strangle people using the very clothes on their backs. Some defensive applications include force fields and stopping objects in mid flight. Stopping bullets, explosions, rockets, gases, and anything that is not the speed of lasers/light under 15,000 pounds of force.

Limitations: Manton effect. They are incapable of effecting any area outside of their 30 foot radius. They are able to throw things out of it, however. Each persona of Swarm has their own limitations unique to them excluding, Damien. Barry is limited to 7,500 pounds of possible pounds of force. Gabriel can only use their powers defensively. Wesley, only aggressively. Ms. Faulkner can only hold others in place, binding people with non-living objects, including their own clothes. Being Barry's embodiment of unbridled passions and power, Damien is the only persona not limited. Once the pounds of force threshold is met, any further force will break through their force fields. Their power is oftentimes balanced between offensive and defensive capabilities. While throwing projectiles, the force expended as well as the force field used for blocking incoming attacks, cannot exceed their power threshold. If this occurs, all new attacks will break through. This power threshold regenerates every couple of seconds allowing for gaps in the defense when it is fully expended. Beams of energy and light are unaffected by the force fields. Mind altering powers are equally unaffected.

Gear: Suits, tungsten steel projectiles, parasitic knives,  Gameboy SP, glasses, baseball cap.

[User]
Sofia Stien - The Airport

Sofia was shuffled around like some sort of baby animal, clinging to its parent for protection. She was only able to listen the cracking of tech and bones as Jason went to work. It seemed they were winning. Another voice showed up, but they seemed to be on the side of the Jacks? Sofia listened to his explanation carefully, opening her eyes towards the end of his speech as it seemed her services were no longer needed. "So we won right?" Sofia asked cautiously. And then some incredibly loud alarms sounded, causing Sofia to wince. "Huh? Are those... the Endbringer thingies?" Sofia asked

[Assistant]
Jason

---

Jason felt his hand close around the head of the villain, and he pulled. The ensuing beat down was a blur as his rage consumed him, and he didn't even stop when the new arrival appeared. It was only when he started talking that Jason tilted his head to look at him, listening.

He was about to reply to the newcomer when the TVs kicked on.

Patriarch.

He watched in surprise, blood dripping from his gloved hands, and abject horror as the hand came ever closer. Ever closer.

He was about to see a man's free will ripped from him, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

"Yeah, Whimsy, we won," he muttered as the girl spoke up absently.

And then the bad that had turned worse became the absolute worst case scenario.

Sirens. The sirens.

Endbringer sirens.

"I know you just got here, kid, but this is all hands on deck if you're willing to risk your life," Jason said quickly. "A monster is coming to kill us all, and we need all the help we can get."

Activating his comms he spoke to his team, letting his voice carry to this Chivalry.

"I'm going. If anyone needs help getting to the staging area, now's the time. I can take two. Chatter, you'd be really useful with the evacuations."

He'd wait to see if anyone wanted to join him, and then he'd be off to the PRT Building. The staging grounds whenever it was in the US.

---

---

Lillian carefully turned the safety on, slinging the rifle across her back by the strap, and she made her way around the spreading confoam carefully, but quickly, eyeing the hidden Protean warily. The... Things that he'd started, as well, she watched for signs of activation before she broke into a run towards the Director. Sinking to her feet, she started pulling at his shirt to expose his wound, pulling on all the first aid classes they'd had to take. Compression. Stop the bleeding. She listened carefully to his breathing, making sure he didn't stop while she did what she could. She pursed her lips at the realization that she couldn't do enough here, not with what she had at arms reach, and she looked up at Alessa.

"Messiah, burn the wound. I can't stop the bleeding and he's lost too much already. I can't —"

"Wards, there's been a new development you need to see!" Decoy called out over the communicators. A nearby projector animated Patriarch's broadcast on the wall.

Lillian's face went paler than it already was as she saw what was going on before she turned her attention back to the Director. She wished she could just ignore what that madman was doing, but she could still hear everything. But she couldn't do anything about that, she couldn't help that man, and she had to focus on what she could help with as she continued to do what she could for the Director.

"We need to get him to medical," she said distractedly to no one in particular as she stared at her bloody hands.

And then things got worse.

"No! No, this can't be..." she muttered in disbelief. "Decoy, what do we do?"

She was frozen in the kneeling position she had taken, rooted to the spot in terror.

An Endbringer. Here.

How?

[User]
As Swarm and Firefly made their escape, they heard the sound go off. "Peculiar. The city is under attack and there is something to send a warning about..." Thought Gabriel.

Damien replied in his mind, "What purpose is a warning during an all out war?!"

Mrs. Faulkner responded, "Haven't either of you perceived in our study book, parahuman encounters of a third kind, that this is the standard warning for an endbringer?!"

Damien smiled maliciously, "We have no need of this city or her inhabitants. We will leave it to its destruction and return to take it over from the ashes."

This all happened in the battle of Barry's collective. The others protested but to little avail. Damien had the override of the mind. However, Barry still had a little fight left in him.

"Everyone! I know we have been at odds but we have to stay and help the city! What good is there to be noticed by being cowards? We will be remembered and if it is in the memory of saving a singke life I will take it."

Damien scoffed in reply, "Like I would let you..you are weak."

Even during all of this Mire continued her bloodthirsty onslaught toward Firefly with a giant barbed spike.

Barry knew that this would be one of his only chances to go on his own terms. The others aided in the clash of wills in a final desperate struggle to deny Damien his need for power...but more importantly, to leave in peace. Perhaps uplifting another's life to live something worthy of their sacrifice.

That's when Barry leapt in front of Firefly and took a giant slash of Mire's makeshift lance to the left side of his chest. The Kevlar tore through and blood splattered. However, he was still kicking.


[System]
Gender:
Female

Age:
Adult

Species:
50% RainWing
25% SandWing
25% SeaWing

Abilities:
- Has a RainWing's venomous spit
- Can change color at will much like other RainWings, though the color fades into a diluted hue as it reaches her flank
- SandWing venom is not potent, causes paralysis in certain parts of body
- Good swimmer
- Thanks to her gills, can breathe underwater for a decent amount of time, though not nearly close enough to pure SeaWings

Shortcomings:
- Poor flyer
- Can't breathe fire like SandWings can
- Dehydrates easily, leading to lethargy
- Her understanding of SeaWing language is very poor
- Sleeps a lot

Appearance:
Her stature is somewhere in between a RainWing and SandWing, with a thicker, SeaWing-like tail. She bears a cyan-hued color most of the time. The scales running along her face are bright yellow in color, and the same can be said for her underside and wing membranes. Her eyes shift colors depending on the shade of her scales. Orangey-yellow stripes swirl down from the base of her neck and down to the middle of her tail, though these too change color depending on the situation. Her frills, which are a slightly darker shade of blue than most of her body, are most prominent under her ears and along her spine until they reach the base of her tail. She can flatten and raise these at will.

Vivid bears gills and webbed claws. Her stinger is almost nonexistent; if one looks close enough at the tip of her tail, her stinger sticks out like a miniature dagger rather than an actual SandWing stinger. The stripes that line her body can light up, though they are much dimmer than a normal SeaWing's bio-luminescent markings. Her fangs protrude slightly from her upper lip, as with all RainWings.

Personality:
Adventurous, happy-go-lucky, talkative, friendly, stubborn, easily frustrated, can be fierce when need be

Other:

[User]
Every single one of her footsteps felt like they were weighed down with boulders. From the shallowest end of the tunnel, she heard the cries of the dragons who hollered for bloodshed and gore. She shuddered. How could they be so willing to see their own kind tear each other apart? If they even consider them at least half their own kind. Vivid wished she could just turn invisible, but then they'd just laugh at her and force her to fight anyway. The light on the other side of the tunnel became brighter and brighter, closer and closer, until both of them were shoved out into the hot daylight once again by the guards.

Her ear pricked slightly at the other hybrid's warning. His words registered in her head, though they were quickly drowned out by what laid in front of them. Rows and rows of dragons, mostly SandWings, hooted and roared from the siderows. An elaborately-decorated booth, cloaked with golden silks and trimmed with silver, was nestled above the rows of writhing heads and wings. There stood Queen Caracal, flanked by two more SandWing guards. Her scales were a brilliant bronze color and her underbelly was a lovely cream, though what caught her attention the most were the black markings that surrounded her eyes and ran down the length of her muzzle. Her ivory horns were adorned with golden rings and bangles inlaid with topaz. Vivid had heard many things of Queen Caracal– of her sheer beauty, her deadly temper, and how she was the only queen in the whole existence of Pyrrhia who ruled both the SandWing Kingdom and the Scorpion's Den. That went to show where her morals lay…

Caracal's wings flared from her seat as her eyes, black as pitch, settled on the dark SandWing from earlier. "What is the meaning of this, Boa? I thought I ordered that the trophies were not to set foot in the ring." Her voice lingered between a hiss and a snarl.

Boa stepped out into the ring behind them. "No worries your Majesty. I thought that you might like something a little more entertaining before your meal."

"The NightWing monster will kill that puny thing in an instant with its ice breath. Answer me this– how will I sell a dead or crippled trophy? Its worth will be gone in an instant."

"Ah, that's the thing, my Queen," Boa answered with a flick of her black tongue. "Let them fight using only their strength. No poison, no ice breath, nothing of the sort. It will thrill the onlookers… along with your palette."

Queen Caracal grinned, revealing golden fangs that glinted in the desert heat. "Very well, then. Let them fight. If something happens, though…" She slowly raised a paw and pointed a golden claw in the SandWing's direction. "Let it be on your head, Boa."

Boa bowed her head and fanned out her wings. The other guards beside her did the same. With that, the crowds' voices raised in excitement once again. Their roars drowned out the thumping of her heart in her ears and muted her thoughts. Before she knew it, she was shoved to one end of the arena. Her shackles were undone, and the unburdening of her wings and limbs felt like she had just ascended to the moons themselves. A sigh left her maw as she raised a paw to rub at her tender scales around her wrists and muzzle. Then, she glanced up at the other hybrid across the Pit. They were both ready to fight. How did one even fight a NightWing-IceWing hybrid, though? Just because he couldn't use his ice breath didn't mean he couldn't read her mind. If he even had those powers to begin with, that is.

Vivid stood up on all-fours and ducked her head, standing her ground in front of Frostbite. If he was confident that his plan could work, then she might as well go along with it. Her yellow eyes glimmered with anticipation as her scales slowly shifted into a vibrant indigo. The crowd's roars turned into chanting as the battle was wont to begin.

[Assistant]
It was difficult to tell if what Frostbite had said actually landed with the smaller hybrid, but that was the best he could give. He didn't want the others to die, contrary to the way he acted most of the time, but he also wasn't going to risk his own life. Especially not for some scrawny SandWing who looked like a stiff breeze would probably knock her over, let alone a claw swipe.

His eyes flickered around the arena, set up the same way as before when he'd fought against the SkyWing. The screams and jeers, the mass of sand colored scales, and perched amongst it all the smug gaze of Queen Caracal. His vision briefly snapped back to the previous time he had been shoved into the Pit. The similarly scrawny SkyWing, scales painted with blue and a wide tail that showed heavily the SeaWing in him. The fear in both their eyes as they were pushed forward, the realization that one of them would die, and the conviction when he decided it would not be him. Instead he had killed someone and regretted it ever since.

The shouts pulled him back to the present as his eyes narrowed up at Caracal. She would be much more beautiful if she didn't always have that smug smirk across her muzzle and an obvious disregard for the lives of other dragons. He glanced curiously at the SandWing guard who had brought them out. Trophies? She must mean the SandWing then because he certainly wasn't that.

Interesting. So the other hybrid wasn't meant to be sent into the Pit, she was meant to be sold, or something similar. As Queen Caracal said it would be on their guard's head should something happen he fought down the more vicious side of himself. The side that told him that he should damage the smaller hybrid just to prove the guard wrong. Take back some control in his life and send the guard to an early grave. Would serve her right for what she did to them. But, he had said he wouldn't hurt Vivid and he wasn't going to go back on his word. That would make him no better than the hoard that watched them.

He stretched out his own wings as they were freed and shook slightly to free the spines on his neck that had clumped together. If there was one benefit to being in the Pit before he knew what these monsters liked. They wanted aggression and violence. A show. That was all this was to them and that much he could do. He just had to be careful not to actually hurt her with his serrated claws. He looked across the Pit and took in a deep breath.

As the call to begin echoed through the area he raised his head and let out a bellowing roar to the delight of the crowd. Idiots. He used his wings, star white scales on the undersides glinting in the light of the desert, to give himself a push towards Vivid. He made it across the Pit faster than one would expect of a dragon his size; taking a somewhat curved route so that he could slam his full weight into the smaller hybrid from the side. He cuffed her hard on the side of the head, making sure not to use his claws, as they tumbled to the ground. He knew how to make a fight look good even if he didn't actually hurt her. She just had to trust him.

[User]
Vivid crouched lower to the ground when Frostbite roared out of anticipation and, honestly, a little bit of fear. She thought she would be quick enough to dodge his attack, what with the size and shape of her body, but he was surprisingly fast. His initial attack knocked the breath out of her as she was sent skidding across the sand. She tried to recuperate, but her eyes widened in shock when she saw his paw raise to claw her face. Her heart racing, she tried to shield herself with her wings in preparation for the blow, but even the second part of the attack was way too quick. Luckily, she was only met with a smack that half-dazed her. Thank the moons he didn't claw her– his talons were so terrifying, she was sure they'd rend her in half.

Somewhat disoriented, yet still full of vigor, Vivid snarled as she charged at Frostbite with all of the speed she could muster. She leapt into the air and clung to his shoulder before she sunk her teeth into the side of his neck. Vivid was careful not to exert too much pressure as to terribly wound him, and she was sure to keep any of her venom from slipping into his blood. Her heart thumped in her chest. What came next? Oh, right, she should probably claw him. Her talons scratched at his dark scales, leaving shallow scrapes that didn't produce much blood, if any at all. She could feel the SandWings' eyes on them, Caracal's own scorching into her back like the desert sun. Vivid knew she had to feign a proper fight, unless they saw through their ruse. Things would get bad quickly if they did, and she was sure that Frostbite's plan would get buried under the sand beneath them.

[Assistant]
Frostbite was somewhat surprised by the sudden vigor shown by the little hybrid, but he supposed when you were fighting for your life it gave a bit more of a push. He snarled back at her as she charged him, trying to rear up to bat at her as she leapt at him. It gave her the opening to grab onto his shoulder, and he roared in over exaggerated pain as she sunk her teeth into his neck.

He could feel her claws scraping on his scales and knew that they would protect him well enough. The shallow scrapes weren't enough to do more than sting, but blood leaking onto the sand sold the act more.

A growl rumbled in his throat as he swung himself to the side into a roll, crushing Vivid underneath the majority of his weight to get her to let go. As he rolled back onto his feet he swung his spiked tail downwards. He could kill her easily but he aimed for her side rather than anything vital. He left a deep enough gash to make it bleed, but no more as she had done for him.

His breath was starting to come in heavy pants from the lack of food and water as well as the exertion of the fight. The sun beat down on his dark scales as gave Vivid the opportunity to get back to get back onto her feet. They would only need to draw it out for a bit longer before he felt like he could end it and get his plan under way. He had no idea how well it would work, he just hoped that it would.

[User]
Vivid guessed that she should have known that the giant dark-scaled dragon would roll onto his side. Oxygen came flooding out of her lungs as his weight collapsed atop of her, which made her loosen her talons from his tough scales. Sand was sent into the air around them, obscuring the match in powdery clouds that stung her eyes. But even beyond the veil of debris, she saw Frostbite's spiked tail come down upon her. Her heart skipped a beat. Did he mean it when he said he had a plan? He could have tricked her into letting her guard down so that he could survive the fight. Her eyes squeezed shut as she waited for the blow.

She cried out when his tail swept across her side, though she was surprised to see that the blow didn't feel as brutal as it should have been. Her purplish scales had now become patterned with white splotches of terror, though she still pulled herself to her feet and stared at the other hybrid in a state of shock, confusion, and fear. He was a dragon that could very easily kill her, even without any use of his ice breath. There was no doubt about it.

"C'mon, fight!" roared a dragon from the stands.

She saw another SandWing open its mouth to half-yawn, half-yell. "This is boring! Bite her head off already!"

Vivid's eyes darted to the sidelines. Boa watched with slitted eyes from the shadow of the arena, flanked by smirking armored SandWings. Caracal sat in her booth, her dark-rimmed gaze glittering with excitement. Her breath stung in her throat. She was so tired, so thirsty, so hungry… but she still had to fight. Turning her eyes back to Frostbite, she focused her mind. C'mon, you can do this… I just need to make all this look convincing to them!

Screeching, she set off towards Frostbite in a brave charge. She leapt into the air just as she approached him and fanned out her wings to hopefully distract him with the sudden flash of color. In a smooth movement, she whipped around his neck and clung to the small of his neck with her back talons. "You'll pay for that!" she shrieked, trying to sound as furious as she could as her front left talons clung to his left horn. Her right talons reached over to scratch at his eyes, though she purposely made this appear quite clumsy as to not blind the poor dragon. Despite her rather vicious attack, it was difficult to lean against the back of the half-IceWing's neck and attack his face; his spines prodded her soft underbelly and caused her to wince in pain.

Still. She'd have his tail for causing so much trouble. That last attack of his hurt!


[System]
Age: 30
Appearance:

(Sorry about the chinese characters xD)

[User]
Lilith turned her head in the direction of the Director as he entered the room. Her small smiled disappeared as the tone shifted to a rather serious one with his arrival. Taking the fold and opening is she examined the contents while listening in before looking at the satellite information on Hunley's screen. During most of it Lilith was simply silently listening and examining the evidence and information their packet gave them as much of what Huntly would tell them would also be found in the briefs themselves as well as the likely answers to what she would have asked anyway. With his more dour than usual mood however, as well as the stress he put on how important this is, she couldn't help but feel both a bit of pressure as it was her return mission as well as excitement for having such a vital task. As Huntly abruptly answered the questions Yerbol posed Lilith was mixed between feeling annoyed that Yerbol asked an obvious question as well as being annoyed that Huntly found himself being so irritable. Shrugging it off slightly she then was addressed directly by her Director which made her simply smile her trademark smile and reply "Of course." Behind that smile was her with to roll her eyes or groan at the fact he had to say that to her. She didn't like being patronized like a child by Huntly. While she was usually a lone agent, she knew some missions may require multiple.

Flipping through to the next page in their folders she didn't look at Yerbol when she first said. "You have no idea, but he is even more uptight than usual." Afterwards turning her head to him and saying. "The two leads he mentioned, one pertains to a hotel she may be staying at while one pertains to the rise in traffic in a area with a low population density. I think we should look into the hotel first, if we are efficient it hopefully will be easy to find out if she was staying there or not. From there we can move to the second lead if the first turns up nothing, as the second has a higher chance of being a multitude of other reasons behind the traffic and the fact that finding a source for pin pointing that she is involved is going to be more difficult as far as I can tell." It seemed she got right down to business, but as she finished she then put her head on her hands being held up by her elbows on the table after setting her folder aside to say. "And please continue with what you were saying as well, knowing where you transferred from might be good to know after all." After she spoke a small smile once again formed on her face as she tried to be friendly with her new partner to get off on a good foot.

[Assistant]
As she spoke, he couldn't help but admire her professionalism. Interpol had been a great place to hone his skills, but there was a kind of unprofessional air that the agency had been hit with for the past few years or so. Reports of fraternization with suspects, weapons being discharged for no apparent reason and the odd romantic scandal between officers made Interpol the laughing stock of the intelligence community. Lilith's behavior was a breath of fresh air, a reminder that an intelligence agency had operatives that actually took their work seriously. Not that he was opposed to being friendly or even growing fond of co-workers. He had to leave a few friends behind in Barcelona, good people that seemed to be the only coherent officers in all of Interpol.

 "And please continue with what you were saying as well, knowing where you transferred from might be good to know after all."

A smile crossed his face.
"I was an Interpol officer. Barcelona. Before that, I was in the States with the Army and I must say it is good to be back home." He opened his folder, then skimmed past the bulk of information they had just reviewed to the very back where a boarding pass was attached, laminated against the folder. He removed it, chuckling.
"Suppose I won't be able to enjoy home for very long." Yerbol pointed to the date in the upper left corner of the document, which read August 21st.

Tomorrow.

"I'm surprise they're sending us commercial. The IMF doesn't have their own backdoor aviation program?" His phone buzzed. Then again. He chose to ignore. A light sigh escaped his lips as his eyes met with hers.
"I must take care of a few things before I leave. Say we meet at Dulles tomorrow? I hope we can chat on the way over. It is a long flight." He approached the door, then stopped, turning his head to say:
"Do be prepared for rain. Hong Kong isn't the sunniest place this time of year."

_____________________

Seated in the overstuffed leather chair, cocktail in hand, Yerbol felt slightly guilty for those beneath them on the 747 that didn't have such luxuries. Then again, if the IMF was paying for it, why not? He took a sip, looking down at the makeshift table with his laptop open. They had been on the flight for about an hour, Yerbol attempting to settle in. Now that they had reached cruising altitude, it would be a good time to actually get to know his partner. He took another drink before looking to her.
"How long have you been with the IMF, Lilith?"

[User]
Lilith intently listened to Yerbol explain where he worked and simply nodded once to show that she was paying attention before he pulled out the boarding pass. "Well, we are in a hurry." She responded with a small smirk to show good intent rather than making it sound like he was being unintelligent. "Going commercial is cheaper and more inconspicuous. If the enemy hears our names and sees us flying commercial we simply look like we could be on business to China. Rather common for American travelers." She said in response to his comment on private aviation. "Hiding in plain sight if you will." It was then his phone rang and he gave a sigh. Her eyebrow rose for a moment of curiosity, but she let it fall and replied with "Alright, find me there as one P.M." before waving slightly as he walked out after his comment on rain. When the doors shut she turned her head to the file and read it again once while saying. "This could be fun; having a partner." Finding that bouncing ideas as well as having more options with two people could lead to a more effective operation, while finding Yerbol's honesty and less uptight personality refreshing from some other IMF agents.

On the plain Lilith could once again be seen reading a book to pass the time while having some music playing in one ear. The small table to the side of her seat held a wine glass with a red wine she had slowly been sipping over the course of about thirty minutes. Yerbol began speaking and she turned her head to the side to look back at him while he gave his question. Pulling the earbud out of her left ear she then said. "About two years now. I went straight out of college into CIA intelligence operations and a year later I found myself in the IMF. My father worked in the CIA so I interned there in college and had some connections which allowed me to get into the IMF at a relatively young age." At the age of twenty five she was one of the younger lone agents as she didn't have many years of outside work behind her when she had originally joined. But, her efficiency and promise is also what allowed her connection through her father to speed up her employment into the IMF. Thinking for a moment as she turned her head back to the book she added. "It's been a life changing experience to say the least. I hope you find it to be one as well." Meaning it to be more of a positive statement to start the mission with a bit of optimism over reality in that the IMF experience can also be a painful one if things go wrong like h er last mission.

[Assistant]
"Always boils down to who you know, doesn't it?" Yerbol said with a small smile, adding rather quickly:
"Not to say that you don't have the skills to succeed, but I've become aware in my twelve years working in the intelligence community that connections are a very worthwhile investment to have." He shifted in his seat slightly as he continued:
"You know, I always wanted to go into the CIA." He chuckled.
"I romanticized a bit, thought it was the ultimate crime fighting operation that I could join to the change the world. My path, however, didn't lend itself very much to intelligence." There was a pause, a clearing of the throat. He took another sip of his cocktail, swallowing harder than usual.
"My apologies. This is...a bit of a sore spot for me." Yet he was going to tell her anyway, in the spirit of partnership. Having had a partner for a while in Interpol, he knew that divulging intimate details(not TOO intimate) helped the other person feel trusted, thereby boosting their willingness to invest trust in the other. It was a rather beneficial cycle that had to be instigated by someone in the pair. Might as well be him.
"I was born in the States, but flitted around between Hong Kong, Taiwan and the States. My father was a suit warehouse owner. A traditional Asian economist." A chuckle.
"We moved around a lot, but finally settled in Chinatown when I was twelve and my sister, Jiang, was five. Three years later, my father passed, leaving me to take care of my sister. I felt overwhelmed, burdened. We had an aunt in Conneticut who took us in and I finished my education up there. By then, I was chafing underneath an aunt who thought I needed to follow in my father's foosteps and take over the business and I just...well, there were other reasons, but I wound up in a Marine recruiting office. The recruiter convinced me that I could make a difference in the world. I did not need to rely on bloodlines or money...all I needed was my self determination. I signed up that day and..." He looked down, a slight laugh escaping his throat.
"Forgive me. I feel like I'm giving a confessional more than a biographical sketch." Yerbol paused briefly before asking:
"Why did you instantly take the CIA job? Surely there were other agencies or paths you could have taken."

[User]
Lilith nodded once as he stated that it boiled down to connections. "Certainly does help." She responded at that moment as she continued to look at her book. She had no delusions about it; it was her connections that allowed her to get this far so fast. Only someone with too much pride or ego would say otherwise after being an agent for long enough, as Yerbol so aptly said afterwards. As Yerbol began to tell his story she turned her head and offered her ears to listen since she herself, even if it was far briefer, had described some details of her involvement with the CIA and IMF. It's only right that he got a chance to tell his part. When Yerbol expressed his discomfort, she was about to tell him that if he didn't want to he need not share his experiences, but he began to continue anyway and she got a slightly hint of his determination to do so for their partnership. So, she gave him her nearly full attention, the rest of her attention being trained instinct on her surroundings due to being an agent even when they weren't in danger. His tale moved her slightly as he was so honest, hell, she didn't feel inclined to detail her past so quickly to her partner. Making her feel a bit selfish, but not enough to make her be as forthcoming as he is. Her respect for him, though, increased by a bit.

She gave him a kind smile, rather than her winning and trained smile, as a response when he apologized. "It's alright." She said quietly in response before his question made her think for a moment and look back at her book as she tried to discern her answer. "It's because it's what I was good at. I couldn't stand a desk job at an agency, I needed adventure. Perhaps it's from reading to many stories as well," she finally responded with a small shrug. "I found a job that I can truly put one hundred percent into." Taking a sip of her wine afterwards and then turning back to him she decided to tease him once as it was her nature to do so. "You know, honest men usually don't make good spies." As he had told her so much she felt inclined to see how he would react to that statement as she had her small moment of fun. Comparing himself so her as he was far less ambiguous as she was with the details.

[Assistant]
Yerbol once again chuckled, volume a bit louder than the other ones. A sly smile crossed his face as he told her:
"Better to be an honest man who has a grip on reality rather than a dishonest one that gets absorbed by the lies they tell." He leaned back in his seat, turning his head just for a moment to find the flight attendant standing close by after serving another passenger. He relinquished his glass to her, allowing her to walk away before he turned his attention back to Lilith.
"I've found that dishonesty can prove to be a hindrance in my work. Of course, as an Interpol operative, I was not involved in...'cloak and dagger' operations. My job was to ensure that people were brought to justice and tried in a system that attempted to ascertain the truth about a matter." A pause.
"Call me naive, possibly gullible to the ways of counter-intelligence, but I would imagine that employing some shred of honesty would be beneficial. I wouldn't expect us to run around shouting our innermost national secrets to anyone who asked, but doesn't one benefit from transparency? Even the worst of the worst criminals that I have dealt with appreciated having the truth spelled out for them." His laptop screen, which had once been dimmed, came alive, the onboard wifi allowing him to receive an email. The notification gave a preview of the message along with who sent it. He quickly examined the screen, but then his gaze lingered. He opened the message in full and a few moments later smirked.
"Excuse me, but my sister sent me a message regarding her transition. This is her first year of college and her first year on her own, so I naturally wanted her emailing me to tell me she was alright." He shifted the screen slightly so Lilith could see the picture of a smiling Jiang, a few boxes behind her on a desk.
"She was always a great kid."