[System]
Age: 18

Gender: Male

Race: Human

Weapon: Fists. Send help.

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

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

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

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

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

Color: Black Hole

Emblem:

Appearance:

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

[User]
[color=grey]Naoko- Aura Control Class[/grey]

Naoko listened intently to what the teacher was saying. Despite being a senior, every tiny titbit of information was another step closer to becoming a better fighter, and the potential of what laid before him was astonishing. To be able to control your own aura like that, it's almost like another weapon. Unfortunately, throughout the class, Naoko had difficulty perfectly repelling the attacks of his partner. To focus so intensely like that probably required more than one session of training and probably a tiny bit of talent as well. I mean, class was fine, but Naoko would much prefer a mission. Experience in the field and whatnot.

[Assistant]
Delta Snow - "What happens in Vale, stays in Vale"

(Changing the text color of Delta so it's a bit more noticeable. ( ﾟ▽ﾟ)/ )

"So… Are you sure we should still leave him be?" Eve whispered to Delta as they both stared at Robert a few rows down, who still had talked with either of his teammates. The man was wallowing in self-pity. Both of them were witnessing the plight of a bespectacled adolescent, twiddling his thumbs, drowning in a sea of angst. "Eh. This is kind of nostalgic. Remember that one guy from boot? Name started with a Y? Cried for his mother the first day we were there?" The two bared a striking resemblance, since nobody seemed to answer their cries for help.

"How about now?" Eve poked again worriedly, Delta slightly shook his head instantaneously in response. "A little bit longer. Let's see if he notices or something happens." Finally, a beacon of hope waltzed over to the loner, bearing gifts of conversation and recognition of his existence. Whatever she was saying was inaudible over the bounds of volume emanating from the slew of topics being flung about the room, but at least she was chatting with the redhead.

A sigh of relief slipped out of his lips, allowing him to ease his posture. "It's alright, besides…" The student trailed of when he heard someone beckoning for him from behind. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Grane next to what he presumed to be an old friend of his, with a grin wider than the circumference of Remnant's sun stretched across his face. He had to admit, he was a bit surprised to see the guy in such a giddy state. Delta presumed Grane sported a scowl 24/7, but it just goes to show one can't judge a book by its cover. Well, unless that cover is drenched in scotch, then maybe a conclusion or two could be made. The boy tilted his head at the hand motion his comrade made, it took a few minutes for him to realize that he was supposed to make his way over to the two.

He quietly pushed his chair back and paced towards them. They seemed to be reminiscing over something, maybe about their probably colorful past with each other. Grane promptly introduced the faunus of the hour as Gren Orchid. Delta peered down at the outstretched hand and slowly leveled his own, still a bit new to socializing with people his age. "Likewise. Oh, last name's Sn-"

All at once the rage of a thousand young suns set upon his volar region. The student winced slightly, but kept an overall blank expression as the two shook hands, "...-ow." He managed to eek out the last fragment of the sentence before he retracted his hand back into solace. The boy rolled up each phalange, just to make sure they were still operational. Grane spurred on the conversation by bringing up their team leader, who they had only known for about an hour at the most. He did find it a bit early to start making statements, but given Robert's uneasy demeanor, the faunus' comments were warranted. "Well, there's still much left to be seen. I wouldn't critically analyze him yet. I've had a few squadmates in the past who started circulating assumptions of other members, ended up creating a whole incohesive unit." He firmly stated, then took a double take on Robert, "But even I'll admit that he needs a morale boost." Delta commented with his monotonous tone, plucking a stack held together by tattered rubber bands and thereby proceeded to pocket it. At least Gren came prepared, perhaps he would pursue a life of an entrepreneur after he retires as a huntsman. He certainly found a way to get on people's good sides. That steak sounded pretty alluring right now.

"You're right, we haven't even checked out the city yet! It will be a good learning experience~. Maybe we'll find a few restaurants which prepare chicken!" Oh yeah. That's why birds hated Eve. The familiar had remained silent during the entire conversation and finally decided to chime in. "Oh, sorry. I'm Delta's semblance, Eve. Pleased to meet you, Gren." It bowed its head as a greeting, "I've got a person or two in mind. I'll grab… What did you refer to him as again? 'Sad Sack'?" He spun around on the ball of his foot and began to descend the steps leading to Robert's row.

"You're not drinking."

"I know." Delta followed up without skipping a beat.

"Not a single drop."

The boy stopped next to Robert and a student he was conversing with. "Hey Robert! What's with the sullen look? Anyways, Delta was wondering if you wanted to go out with him and a few classmates later on. It'd be nice to have another person who knows their way around the city on board!" The young soldier presented not one, but two cards in his palm. Eve raised an eyebrow, but suddenly picked up on what its companion was denoting, "Oh, and you're free to come along too, miss…?" Eve trailed off as it looked up at the girl. She appeared to be the same age as Delta, armed with cyanic irises which mesmerized the familiar. A whole lot more interesting than the monochrome slate grey the student bearing it was born with. Hopefully her name was just as interesting.

[User]
Violet Steel

"I'll retrieve this Crimson Volk from the station." Violet declared. With Valin already offering to be the distraction for the Vale Hospital mission it was really the only option she had. She was about to head over to the blue box and pick up the mask needed for the mission when Amber spoke to her. She slowly turned towards him, looking at him with a cold stare.

"I'm only going to say this once, so listen well. I didn't join this group to get shacked up. I joined because I believe what we're doing is for the good of the entire world, that's it. I don't know why you and the others joined, and frankly I don't really care. Just do your part, and I'll do mine." She turned and began to walk away, before pausing and looking at Amber with the corner of her eye.

"And about the whole getting me 'wet' thing…that's sexual harassment… don't do it again." Without another word to Amber she walked over to the cardboard box and pulled out the mask that would identify her as a member of a local gang. She saw no reason to delay her rescue attempt of Crimson Volk and simply left the warehouse.

[Assistant]
Robert Fallson - History Class

"Huh?" Robert replied as a girl he couldn't remember the name of said something. "Sorry, were you talking to me? I don't think I caught that." He had been distracted when Cian sat down, listening to the conversation between Gren, Grane, and Delta. It certainly wasn't Robert's proudest skill, but over the years he had gained an exceptional talent for eavesdropping on things that he wasn't supposed to hear. Back in his old life, it was practically required for him to listen in on other people talking, because the more information you knew on your mark, the better the chances that you would get away.

Part of him wanted to tell his team that he wasn't usually like this, all depressing and sulky, it was just a combination of recent events. Running into the White Fang again after so many years, his team going missing, the possibility that the boy from earlier might be connected to what happened. It was hard not to be a little dow- Oh no, Delta's coming over.

"Oh hey, Eve. What's going on? You here to tell us about Gren's par-" He let it slip. Now Delta and Eve would know that he heard everything. This could get awkward. Knowing there was no way to take back those words, Robert finished his sentence, "-ty?" He gave an awkward smile to his teammate and his little semblance.

[User]
Luke Schwarz -- Inter-team Alliances

The red haired woman, Sangue, had been very deliberate in setting that timer. Very deliberately setting it for what could only be a short amount of time, as class had to be starting in... a couple minutes at the most. And with none of her teammates to wake her up, either, likely assisting Amy with recovery from the blast of sound they'd all endured last period. In essence, it seemed Miss Naga was out here on her lonesome.

That's not good.

Now, it wasn't like he was creepily staring at her or anything, mind you, far from it! It was just more idle observance, as he'd propped his elbow on his desk and swept the room with his eyes. Like overhearing something, but with vision. While he had to admit, she was pretty easy on the eyes, he was far more discreet in his ogling than to brazenly keep his head fixed upon somebody in the middle of class!

Okay, this self-damnation thing really needed to stop. And more importantly, the team he liked the best's lone member in History class (funnily enough the one he knew the least) was in need of back up.

And far be it from me to sit idly by.

Tearing out a whole new sheet of paper and contemplating his need to invest in loose-leaf, he began to crumple it into a tight ball. Normally, he'd just settle for just a corner, but as inclined to sleep as the redhead seemed to be, he figured he'd need all the mass he'd get.

Right. Ammunition Loaded--

He held the paper ball between his thumb and index finger, other hand placed behind it.

--Safety off--

Said other hand buried the tip of his index finger into the pad of the thumb.

--Target to ten o'clock, angle up 15 degrees--

He aimed his projectile carefully...

--FIRING FOR EFFECT!--

And flicked the crumpled up mass of paper straight for her head.


[System]
Height: 170 cm | Weight: 59kg

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Age

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24 years

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Personality & History

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Ascelia is the no nonsense head of the Vizwhurz household, a long lineage of Germanic magus hunters from Central and Northern Europe. At first they used to serve as mercenaries in employment of the Church, in an analogous manner to the famous Swiss Guard. However, once opportunities dwindled, they joined the Association, most exclusively to work as Enforcers.

As is expected of the heirs most magus families, Ascelia didn't have that much of a carefree childhood. Because of that her mindset is pretty much a heavy militaristic one. She's someone that probably wouldn't know how to behave very well outside of her usual environment. As a consequence of this Ascelia didn't even put much mind into passing on her bloodline for the time being.

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Abilities

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Most of Ascelia training consisted of reinforcing her body to develop enormous amounts of strength, agility and toughness (for a human). Most of her family's magic methods focus on old Runic Magic, which Ascelia uses for further reinforcement, applying them to her clothes and throwing dagger-like Mystic Codes.

When in a pinch, Ascelia can make use of self-inflicted healing and berserk curses. They can cure all but a instantly fatal blow and allow her to keep on fighting at the expense of later damage to her body and magic circuits. Adding to her abilities, Ascelia possesses a couple of notable family heirlooms. The first is a magic ring craft as a anti-magecraft talisman which provides her with the equivalent of Magic Resistance D. The second is Tyr's Hand, a Conceptual Weapon embodying the sacrifice of the old god Tyr's hand to the fearsome beast Fenrir. Due to this, Ascelia's right hand has the power to slay any Magical Beasts of Phantasmal Rank and below, as well as similar creatures like most familiars. Theoretically this allows Ascelia to harm Beasts of superior rank as well, but she's unlikely to ever survive such a fight.

---

Other

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Name: Atalanta
Class: Archer
Abilities:
* Strength: D
* Endurance: E
* Agility: A
* Mana: B
* Luck: C
* Noble Phantasm: C

Class Skills:
* Magic Resistance: D
* Independent Action: A

Personal Skills:
* Crossing Arcadia: B
* Aeshetics of the Last Spurt: C
* Calydonian Hunt: A
* Golden Apple: N/A

Noble Phantasms:
* Phoebus Catastrophe: Complaint Message on the Arrow

	+ Rank: B
	+ Type: Anti-Army
	+ Range: 2~50
	+ Maximum Number of Targets: 100 People
* Agrius Metamorphosis: Boar of Divine Punishment

	+ Rank: B+
	+ Type: Anti-Unit (Self)
	+ Range: 0
	+ Maximum Number of Targets: 1 Person

Personality:
Atalanta is has a very peculiar personality, fruit of her life experience in the Age of Gods. She can be, and most of the time is, very closed toward most people thanks to her being raised by animals, with little to no contact with humans. Acid remarks are not above her either and she could give you a chewing if need be.

She can, mellow out considerably in face of children and when enjoying herself on the wilderness, in fact, Atalanta would do do almost anything for the sake of children and the wilds.

Don't mistake her kindness for weakness. Atalanta is one of the most dangerous Hunters of the Age of the Gods, blessed by the Sibling Deities Apollo and Artemis, she can hit you with pinpoint accuracy A rank attacks in a starless night across an entire valley and her animal instincts and agility make her all but impossible to catch unguarded or keep up with on a skirmish over difficult terrain. With all these traits together, Atalanta is as good as one can expect that the Archer class can get.
Other: N/A

[User]
Nero Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus

As soon as the word "Princess" left her lips, Ascelia was confronted by a face-full of frowning blonde, a stare with an alarming amount of intensity behind it despite the Emperor's less-than-intimidating appearance. "Praetor, whilst it is true that I was the most esteemed holder of the position 'Princeps Senatus' and 'Princeps', the dignity of such titles has long been diminished. I am a grown woman and ruler in all regards. This slight shall be permitted once and once only, refrain from making such a faux pas in future."

With that, the Servant backed away somewhat and addressed the original question: "Should you wish to use one of my titles, Augustus would be the most prestigious. Emperor shall suffice in this language until you have proven yourself worthy of more familiarity."

True to form, of all the many titles that the blonde could have picked, Augustus was by far the most self-aggrandising, directly calling attention to her supposed majesty, rather than those that would imply civil or military power. She was, of course, an amazing person--why not use the most suitable of all the titles in her mind?

Had Ascelia noted Nero's movements over the past few days in detail, the need for an escort would not be surprising in the slightest--barely had the Servant gone off to explore their base of operations, favouring sticking close to her Master except for venturing to collect the manuscripts.

Once their destination was announced, missing the grin on the blonde's face was impossible. To be going to Greece... ah, all the heroes that she had missed in life would be present or somewhere to be found! It was a shame that it was the Trojan War rather than any of the stages in the voyage of the Argo but this presented the opportunity to meet Aeneas. Unusual as it would be, the prospect of meeting one of her ancestors was quite exciting.

---

Abe Ai

"But you're too cute for me to like any of those titles," Ai teased, somewhat envious of the Servant ability to simply manifest clothing as they desired. If it extended to changing outfits... ah, so much money could be saved whilst keeping up with fashion! Not that shopping was at all an unpleasant thing to do but the costs associated with buying no clothes? That would be something amazing to dispose of entirely.

The trip down to the briefing chamber was mostly silent, as the magus was focusing on not taking a wrong turn and ending up in the kitchen or something instead, and she didn't dare interrupt someone like the Wizard Marshall as he explained their destination. And... some alchemist was going to be coming with them? She had better not be a liability... though if Zelretch was recommending the Mystic Codes, at least they could be satisfied the things would work.

---

Meran Briefort Marzikek

The white-haired alchemist was prepared as the other magi came in to use the portal, interposed herself in their path, choosing to introduce herself fully before handing out the phones: "I am Meran Briefort Marzikek, Alchemist of Atlas. As your aide in this endeavour, I will be accompanying you all to offer planning advice and gather further information on these grails than that which can be analysed from captured data; I hope that we can establish a mutually beneficial relationship."

"To facilitate co-ordination upon arrival, I have constructed a set of mobile phones, with assistance from the Wizard-Marshall, that can communicate across dimensional lines and function even in the absence of a network to operate upon. Currently, there is one for every Master, and they have facilities to communicate with each other and access the internet. Should it be desired, I will be able to manufacture more for the Servants after our expedition to Greece.

"If there are any features that you wish to request, or assistance required in using the phones, then I shall be happy to be of service," she finished, though it was hard to see how someone that had delivered the entire speech in a near-robotic monotone could be happy about anything. Nevertheless, she started handing out the phones to the Masters, retaining one for herself--and the tablet that would allow her to record more information when they were there.

---

Nero - Greece

"I believe, Praetor, that if we wish to start anywhere we should head towards the smoke over there," Nero said, helpfully stating the obvious.

[Assistant]
Estelle Varianbec, Master of Berserker

"Of course. It only makes sense that a Servant summoned by a powerful Master would be able to protect their Master," Estelle commented with a smile as she glanced up to her Servant, then back towards her maids. She could see the concern her maids felt, of course, but they really didn't need to worry at all. Smiling up at her Servant once again, the small, white-haired girl proceeded onwards through the halls and downwards.

Shortly before she arrived, she decided to tease her Servant once more about her garb.

"Does it feel liberating, running around like that~?" she asked, before giggling and heading further inside.

Indeed, she kept quite when she listened to the Wizard Marshall spoke. The haughty girl still respected the man, after all, as out of any magi he was the most deserving of being respected, and this was important information by far. And indeed, as he spoke, she found herself intrigued. Greece? The Age of Gods? A place where her Servant would be incredibly powerful? It was almost too perfect for their first outing!

Nodding to her Servant, the child magus(at least, in appearance) headed through the portal...

... And found herself disoriented as she stepped onto grassy hill thousands of years in the past. Shaking her head, she looked about, and quite quickly noticed the moving skeletons.

"Berserker, that's where we'll be heading!"

She stepped forward and pointed immediately.

[User]
Demon Archer

"Ah, where there is smoke, there is fire." Giving the air a sniff, Nobunaga who had just arrived in Greece let her gaze travel through the verdant but foreign landscape, noticing flora greatly different from what she was used to. Japan was like a well and she the frog, an island nation so pitiably small compared to those other great behemoths out and about in the world at large. Still, now that she had free(ish) reign throughout history itself, the story of the carp who transcended the waterfall to become a dragon came to mind. She would commit to her knowledge all the information, learn everything, grow greater... They say everything ends with death but was she not here because of how splendid both her life and ending had been?

Chuckling at those thoughts, the Demon Archer realized that the scent of the smoke actually held something familiar- yes she had almost no doubt what it was conveyed in those gaseous plumes. Growing slightly more serious given her own familiarity with the kind of fires that would birth that sort of smoke, Nobunaga simply stayed put where she was. "I will move with and protect the Masters. My job is that of the great DEMON ARCHER, so I shall keep my distance and act as a first line of defense against what threats are about with my range." Left unsaid was that she didn't want any of the untried Masters to try to muck up and throw themselves into businesses that could potentially risk the whole group due to a flash of hotheadedness for they were essentially infants on the battlefield.

[Assistant]
Ascelia VizwhurzPresent"Fine, fine, if that's how you wish, I'll call you Augustus," Ascelia said as she and Nero walked towards the briefing room. She placed a hand on her Servant's head in an awkward gesture of affection, probably meaning to communicate that she meant no harm. Saber was quite a lot to deal with. Especially considering that Ascelia was hardly used to this type of relationship.

Once the briefing was done, Ascelia couldn't help but notice the fiery glint on Saber's eyes. Based on the kind of literary works she had been reading in the past few days, as well as the stories regarding Nero's artistic tendencies, it was pretty obvious that a destination such as the Greek Age of the Gods. Admittedly, the Trojan War was very late in that time period, if Ascelia's memory was correct, that was the 4th or 5th generation of Greek Heroes, whereas the one that stood among them as from the 2nd generation.

"This is certainly an useful device," Ascelia said, accepting the phone given to her by the Atlesean Alchemist, just before following Saber.

Greece"I think that you might want to take pay attention to the skeletons as well," Ascelia said to Nero, pointing at the other obvious bit of information she was missing. For herself, Ascelia reached inside her coat, producing eight metal rings —one between each of her hands' knuckles, infusing some prana into them, creating dagger-like blades, each of them marked with runes.

The Magus Hunter didn't attack yet, merely taking a defensive stance, ready to react in case the skeletons chose them as targets.
Atalanta"The Trojan War, huh? It happened not long after the travels of the Argo came to an end. Even if I have never been there personally, I can't say that I feel any comfortable. In the end that both of us were doomed by the same thing," Atalanta said to Keisuke as he commented on them being lucky. A quick recalling of the Greek Mythology would make the reason of Atalanta's comment very evident. The Golden Apples were the reason of both Troy's demise and her own doom. Not to say the least about the fact that the Trojan War had the greatest concentration of morally dubious (read: freaking jerks) heroes in one place of the whole Age of the Gods. It was no wonder that a Heroic Spirit as old and dignified as Atalanta frowned at the very mention of that pitiful conflict.

Nevertheless, once all preparations were said and done, Atalanta followed Keisuke on their trip down the tunnel of time.

Greece"The Witch shouldn't be in Colchis by the time of the War, but if the past is as scrambled as that Old Sage said, I expect that she'll be involved. She's a woman that was capable of cutting her own brother without thinking twice. Do not listen to anything she says, Keisuke," Atalanta warned her Master of the dangers of dealing with Medea. "However, I still have a pledge of honor with that woman, after she saved my life. If possible, I would like to avoid fighting her," the leonine archer added.

Neither the smoke raising in the background, nor the skeletons prowling around escaped Atalanta's perception. This was the age when she was supposed to be at her best after all and, certainly the Huntress' looked imposing enough in her natural habitat. "If the Witch is really here, this is sure to get her attention," Atalanta said, taking a step forward and nocking an arrow with a letter for the Gods at it. Certainly, Keisuke was already aware of it, but if any of the other Masters still didn't know Atlanta's powers, they would be able to witness it firsthand now.

"Gods, hear the pray of this humble Servant. With all the reverence you deserve, I ask: bring your wrath down upon my enemies— Phoebus Catastrophe!" Atalanta said, calling upon her Noble Phantasm. A moment later the only thing left in the hill were the skeletons once scampered, was a veritable forest of arrows that fell from the sky upon Atalanta's prayer and slowly began to dissolve back into the thick mist of mana that still enveloped all of the world at this Age.


[System]
dreamself.me/d/mvb7
Age: 27 years old
Birthday: Winter 29
Occupation: Mother to Lorrena
Sexual Orientation: Straight

Background:
Sega was born in the big city with only her mom around to raise her. Her mother, who was a stripper, had always told her from a young age that the only way she could be happy in life was by finding a rich man to take care of her. With the abuse and confusing lessons from her mom at home, Sega grew to only attract bad relationships. It wasn't because she was bad or anything, it was actually because she was too gentle, kind, and trusting and guys would take advantage of that. Despite her relationship troubles, she excelled in school and soon became an Elementary school teacher. During her first year of teaching, she fell in love with a co-worker named Kent, who shortly after bore her a daughter. They lived together and even though things weren't perfect, Sega believed that things couldn't possibly get any better! Only after a few months of Lorrena being born, it was revealed that Kent had gotten another woman pregnant and he left, saying that Sega didn't mean anything to him the whole time.

Things got really hard after that. She started getting less and less hours at work so she couldn't pay for much. With the lights out, barely any food in the fridge, a tired and hungry child, and an eviction notice in hand, Sega sat for a long time. When Lorrena fell asleep in her arms, Sega looked hard at her child and whispered, "It's time for a major change." with a smile.

That night they packed all they could fit into a suitcase, took what was left of her life savings, and left the city by bus. She had never ventured far from the city, but she wanted something totally new. She had heard of a small, country town called, "Bellview", and that's where her heart was taking her. "Sounds like the perfect place to start a new life."

Moving into a small, one bedroom house was a lot easier than she thought it would be on such short notice (and the people were a lot nicer as well!). Now, they have been living in Bellview for about a month. They have never smiled more! They are friendly with people, but have no close relationships as of yet. It is usual to see Sega and Lorrena having picnics in the park, shopping in the local stores, or selling drawings/paintings that Sega has made. (She has to make money somehow!)

Personality:
Sega is very sweet and can usually be found smiling at something (Lorrena, nature, people). She can't help her kindness, but when she realizes that she is being too nice, she will withdraw a little bit as a sort of defense. She is gentle with her daughter and takes being a good mother very seriously. Her daughter is her best friend so she is open about pretty much everything with her. She can seem a bit clumsy with her words or actions sometimes, but it is mostly her just trying to be honest herself and things around her. She is friendly, hardworking, and for her age, pretty youthful.

Appearance:
At first glance, Sega looks like a strong, beautiful, and captivating woman. She is tall, thin yet curvy where it counts, with lightly tanned skin, healthy sleek black hair that flows just past her bottom, deep green eyes with small pupils and think eyelashes, and very feminine facial features. She has a slightly larger than average bust and long, toned arms, legs, and abdomen. In the spring and summer, she usually wears a lot of colorful summer dresses. In the fall and winter, she usually wears jeans ranging from black to light blue with loose fitting t-shirts. Her ears are pierced but she doesn't usually wear jewelry.

Loves:
-Cute and Tasty Cakes, Artwork, Music

Likes:
-Salad, Sandwiches, Bright Colored Flowers

Dislikes:
-Mushrooms, Hot/Spicy Foods, Fried Food

Hates:
-Beer, Fishing, Thieves

dreamself.me/d/mvb9
Name: Lorrena Wulf
Age: 6 years old
Birthday: Spring 15
Occupation: Being Sega's wild child (lol)
Sexual Orientation: N/A (She is much too young for that question! xD)

Background:
(See above in Sega's Background)
Lorrena has been raised most of her life by Sega. She loves her mom very much. Lorrena has even refused to go to school, only because she wants to stay by her mom's side(when she wants). When she doesn't want to, she goes scampering into the backyard of their new home in Bellview where she digs in the dirt to look for worms, chases the local stray cat, rolls down the hills, collects rocks, and pokes at ants. Lorrena is pretty smart for her age (being home-schooled by Sega) and doesn't like meeting new people just because she seen how stressed people made her mom back in the cities. Once you get on her good side however, she will actually talk to you and not give you such a hard time. (Her tantrums kind of suck) She is really enjoying her time in Bellview so far.

Personality:
Lorrena is stubborn, quiet, and rude to people she doesn't really know. She has been known to leave live lizards, mice, or bugs in people's things just to annoy them. She is still a child however, and is always naturally curious. Her curiosity often times gets her into trouble (and if it's not her in trouble, it's someone else!). When she warms up, she is very loving, playful, and funny.

Appearance:
Lorrena is a toddler version of Sega. They both sport the black hair and green eyes. Lorrena's hair is only a little past her shoulders and is in two pigtails with colorful bows tied to them. Her skin is slightly paler in comparison to her mom's. Her outfits consist of shorts and shirt in the spring/summer and overalls with shirts in the fall/winter.

Loves:
-Jam, Bugs, Toys

Likes:
-Strawberries, Bed-time (Anytime) Stories, Cool/Shiny Rocks (also ores and gems), yogurt, grapes

Dislikes:
-Cheese, Medicine, Fish that are Alive

Hates:
-People who are mean to her or her mom, Monsters, Fighting

[User]
Smiles watching the girl get so excited about money and the tomato. He turns his attention from Lorrena to Sega when she mentions not knowing his name.

"The name is Lane, my family for 5 generations grew up in this town."

He shakes her hand then looks at Lorrena with a smile.

"If only we could be that age again huh? Or even just have that level of energy. Well now, anything else I can sell to you?"

[Assistant] Sierra's face turned immediately to one of derisive incredulity. "Pfft," she scoffed, "If you're here to con me, then you're shit outta luck, kiddo. Im from the city, so not your average, gullible townsperson. Go back in town and find whoever is living the most comfortably right now, they're usually the kind of people who aren't willing to work hard to earn their way in this world and are more likely to want a 'magical' solution to their problems." Sierra thought for a momemt, "Why am I giving you pointers? Get out of my mine if you don't have anything better to do."

[User]
Guinevere paced around the shop for a moment, looking at the different plants on display. The different textures, the shapes of the petals, fine details, the color combinations.... "I should take from these flowers and put it into my work..." she muttered to herself. The owner of the shop came up to the counter and spoke up.

"What can I do you for? Or what can I do for you –– I just like the other version," he said at the wooden counter. "Everything okay?"

Turning her attention to him, she gave a smile and leaned over the counter. "Morning, Mr. Honeywell!" the tailor beamed. "The shop hasn't been busy at all lately, so I decided to do my errands rather than later this evening." Noticing his hidden arm, she gave Arthur an odd look. Assuming he didn't want anyone to see what happened, Guinevere shook her head, with a small smirk on her face. "I'm here for my order of flowers, to make my dyes."

[Assistant]
Lyra, the priestess of the year

"Ah, the sister." This is why strangers were nice. Most people didn't like making bad first impressions so they gave her no reason to dislike them. And this stranger was fairly charming.

"Special requests... Hmmm... Well, it's a gift so perhaps a heart carved into it and a ribbon wrapped around it? That's all I can think of right now." She thought it over for a second before she heard that there were examples. Lyra smiled at the woman.

"That would help. Thank you." She said, nodding. Did she have anywhere to go after this? She felt like she needed to get some fresh fruits and veggies afterwards but that's about it.

[User]
"Thanks for letting me know," Whiskey put her change into her pocket as she let a michievous smile, "Next time, I will empty the cash register hahas~" She joked, grabbing her bag of goods, heading back to her workplace.

"Better hurry, been stuck in that place for quite a while now..." Whiskey paced herself back towards the library, she's glad that nobody had touched any books there, until she realized her desk being messed up from some wind. She had forgotten to secure her papers with a heavier object. "Damnnit, that stupid shop owner!" She ranted while rearranging her desk to the proper order. "Mom's letter, where did it go?" Whiskey frantically shoved around every possible corners of her desk, but to no avail.

"F**K!" Whiskey slammed her desk in frustration, then laying back on her chair and sighed. Even though she doesn't read those letter, she wouldn't want to lose any of them, especially when its one that came after a long long time. "Haizz... I will just send my letter later, at least I didn't lose this one..." She folded her letter into the envelope, placing it into the drawer to prevent the same thing from happening again. "Must mail it after my shift..."

[Assistant]
June beamed and clapped her hands together, looking around over the pieces. "There is a bed frame. Right here." She walked over to it, she kneeled and lifted the bed frame up, carefully moving it so it was standing up so the priestess didn't have to kneel down either. "The carvings were done with influence from the forest outside of town. My sister Bethany insisted we go have a picnic one day."

She offered a small smile, somewhat sheepish. "Anyway I loved all the life out there...so I carved the trees and wildlife into the frame, look." June showed her the designs of the trees and the rabbits. The deer and the birds. They were very well done. Professional and clean. The designs took her a week. She was proud of her work, that much was clear.

-

Bethany beamed at her, "Yes please. I'm new in town and I haven't had much of a chance to really explore. My sister insists on hiding away in her workshop most the time." She shrugged, she had plenty of time to make June more social.

"I'm Bethany. June's little sister." Knowing people at least somewhat knew who June was if only through the jobs she did.

[User]
~The Ever so Great Witch in training, Selma~

Algorithm

"Pfft,"

She could taste the nonbeliever disdain. Heh. Hehhe. Selma grinned impishly as the girl continued.

"If you're here to con me, then you're shit outta luck, kiddo. Im from the city, so not your average, gullible townsperson. Go back in town and find whoever is living the most comfortably right now, they're usually the kind of people who aren't willing to work hard to earn their way in this world and are more likely to want a 'magical' solution to their problems. Why am I giving you pointers? Get out of my mine if you don't have anything better to do."

The witch fell silent. She had to play her cards right here. Turn on the charm. Smooth talk her way into this girls head and make her believe.

"Gullible? Oh no no, not at all~" She giggled mischievously, offering the girl a smile as she turned to a cross legged, position, resting her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands. "I think you're one of the most non-gullible people in town!" She hopped off the boulder she was sitting on, getting almost uncomfortably close in front of the other girl. "As such, my cute little human," She poked her playfully on the nose before giving a dramatic twirl and taking a few steps back.

"I think you deserve a free demonstration of my skills!~" She held out a hand for the miner to shake.
"So, here's what I will do for you. Give me one piece of copper, and I will turn it into silver! Absolutely free, no strings attached!~" For the sake of a possible repeat customer, she could give out a free little bit of magic.

...well.

Considering she got the spell right.

[Assistant] Sierra flinched when Selma touched her nose, snorting the way dogs do when something they don't like touches their face. Sierra didn't like her personal space being invaded and especially didn't like getting touched anywhere near the face and neck, but she didn't react beyond the flinch; life had taught her to just accept that some people would be touchy-feely. Sierra crossed her arms in skepticism when Selma made her offer, taking a long look at the witch's outstretched hand. "Are you going to turn copper ore into silver ore, or can you turn a copper bar into a silver bar?" she asked, playing along. "If you can do the latter, that would really impress me, but we'd need to get to the blacksmith so she can either smelt this ore here into a bar, or maybe she'll just have a copper bar lying around the smithy. But if you can do that, then call me a believer." Sierra took Selma's hand and shook it, but then didn't let go. "But what happens if you fail?" Sierra took on a morbid intensity that she hadn't yet shown the witch.

[User]
Sega laughed at Lane's comments. "No Lane, I think that will be everything for today! Thank you so much!" She turned to Lorrena and told her to put the food in the basket for now. They both bowed and left. While walking away, Sega looked back and gave one last smile to Lane.

Both girls headed towards the shops. "Hmmm…which one next?"

Night


[System]
Physical: Fang is a tall, muscularly lean woman. She has rough hands and wears foot wraps instead of shoes. Her lightly colored robes are maintained out of devotion to her goddess. Even still, the dark tattoos that wrap up and down her muscles are the most awestriking. Each one is intricately designed and it no doubt took years to acquire them all. Her head is shaved as a show of devotion to Shangri-La, and she has light olive skin. Despite her tough appearance, though, she has gentle brown eyes and a friendly face.

Abilities:
• Summoning magic. Fang's body is covered by a variety of tattoos, a host to depictions of animals and even weapons. The amount of energy she puts forth can affect how many summons she can control and how big they are. The animals found across her body include two snakes, a tiger, a bear, a turtle, and a phoenix. The weapons, usually incorporated in the intricate animal designs, include a staff, two swords, a bladed polearm, and knives. When being used, the summon's tattoo disappears. It takes energy to maintain the summons' physical forms for extended periods of time, but she can also dismiss them as she pleases. However, the tattoos won't immediately reappear once dismissed from the physical plane; over the course of a day, they will appear faded and then dark again once ready for use.

• Martial arts. Not only is Fang a fearsome master of her tattoos, she is trained in a style of fighting developed by followers of Shangri-La. The focus of this technique is to strike from afar and bring an opponent down in closer quarters. It's a style of fighting made to use an opponent's own force against them.

• Magic & soul sense. Through meditation and practice, Fang is able not only to sense the presence of magic or souls, but to also loosely read people and their intentions. It's, of course, fallible as the human and humanoid experience is vast.
Starting Gear: Save for the clothes on her back and a flat blade for maintaining a shaved head, Fang has no material possessions and seems to have no interest in keeping any.

Personality/Goals: Fang wishes to serve Shangri-La in maintaining a humble life and serving the greater good. A minority among her monastery, she was trained as a warrior, and is allowed to bend the otherwise strict rules of nonviolence. Even so, she maintains a demeanor of relaxation and is slow to anger. Beyond the years of training under her religion, Fang is kind. She has a surprisingly broad sense of humor, though likely developed later in life due to a sheltered upbringing in the monastery. Her journey alone is meant to push the boundaries of her devotion, however.

Backstory: Like most of the monks she grew up with, Fang was orphaned as a baby and left at the temple. She was trained among young boys and girls in the way of Shangri-La, a goddess figure. Unlike most of her peers, however, Fang displayed a rare affinity for magic. As a direct result, her training was altered and she was raised into the rare warrior role of her religion. She is a recent graduate of the student title, and is now traveling the world to reach a higher form of enlightenment and acquire the title of master.

Other Stuff:
• Followers of Shangri-La are known for their intricate tattoos and peaceful, charitable ways of life. Traveling monks receive mixed reactions, though: some are charitable and hospitable to monks, others see them as bums. They have a large following, but due to religious purges and wars, their numbers have been decreasing. Warriors like Fang are a minority and relatively new development as a defense against the violent world. Older monks in the religion may not agree with this development.

[User]
Sharadur

---

Sharadur heaved a mighty sigh, even as she shivered slightly from the cold. It looked like rain, and that was just fucking great. Most of her life, she never really minded the rain- after all, if you didn't like getting wet, you probably had no business aboard a ship to begin with. Here on the mainland things were different. Bundled up in layers of leather and metal that already felt strange and foreign to her, it only ended up making things even more miserable when she found herself soaked by a sudden downpour.

Eventually, she did manage to arrive at her destination. And what a dismal sight it turned out to be, just some run-down dump of an ancient fort that was probably older than dirt itself. Whatever jackass had sent for her obviously couldn't even be bothered to request a meeting in someplace remotely civilized, like a nice cozy tavern. Nope, instead they had elected to go all in on the spooky atmosphere to try and impress people. Nothing but pomp and ceremony was what these mainlanders truly valued in life, so how could she expect anything less?

Well at any rate, she was late. Her horse had thrown a shoe some miles back and it had taken her way more time than she cared for to get that taken care of. That meant she was the one who got to barge in all super-importantly right into the middle of some dimly-lit room, most likely right after someone dramatically stabbed a dagger into a map or asked if there were any final questions. Maybe her mysterious patron would even be pleased with how neatly she would be fitting into their little scene, if the choice of venue was any indication of how they operated. Bursting through the door to the large room where the current group of people had gathered, she ultimately ended up announcing her presence in a somewhat less than dramatic fashion. "Fuck me, it smells like an ogre's asshole in this dump."

Casting her gaze about briefly, she scanned the people assembled. While she frowned momentarily at the large orc, it was when she caught sight of the robed figure exuding green fart clouds like a goddamn fairytale villain that she seemed to decide on who was responsible for the current situation. Striding over to the table, she seated herself. Yet, after about thirty seconds of squirming and unsuccessfully attempting to re-position herself more comfortably, she gave up and realized that she might have just preferred standing this whole time. "I hope for your sake that shit ain't flammable." She muttered, shooting Mr. Greensmoke a glance as she did so. With that, she clapped her hands together briefly. When she drew her hands apart, a small ball of fire sparked to life between them. Letting out a sigh of relief as warmth flooded into her body from the small flickering flame, she found herself inwardly irritated that it had taken a bit more effort than usual to conjure up something so small.

"Whelp, I'm here now. Whaddaya want?" She demanded, addressing the plaguebringer after naturally assuming he was the one in charge of this carnival she felt herself getting more deeply caught up in even as she spoke. He certainly seemed to fit the bill, once everything else about this situation was taken into account. Obviously, he was here to offer her a magical adventure through rainbowland to retrieve his magical unicorn-horn trumpet before the great demon prince "Lord Superbad McMean" used it to ruin everything forever. Either that, or he could just as easily be some asshole petty noble who thought his minor inconsequential problems to be extra important for the sheer reason that they involved himself and thus felt the need to hire all the big guns to deal with his small problems. Either way, if it paid well, she was probably in.

---

[Assistant]
A mismatched crew indeed. Well, that was what the old mage summoned, and that is what he got at any rate. He sensed others, late to arrive, but not far away. No matter. They would come or they wouldn't. There were already more than enough individuals for the task.

The first person spoke. 'Old Mage'. Well, it was a name. The rest of the question was simple and well presented. He would grace that with a... relatively straight answer.

"Well, to tell you that, perhaps I should say what I once did." The old mage leaned forwards and placed an elbow on his leg. "My task for the past... ten... twenty... fifty... oh, never mind, long time-" he rested his head atop that elbow- "Was handling problems. Little things, larger things, all the things you don't hear about very often. The mage who burns down a city, the mage who tries to take a kingdom for himself, the child with ridiculous magic from birth, a demon popping out of nowhere, all that - that was my job to handle. You don't hear about it very often, because it is handled. Now I'm old. Now someone needs to take that job, and I figure, who better than a capable crowd of beings such as yourselves. You'll do at least."

The next question was also predictable. That one, alas, he did not have a straight answer for. "What am I. Ah..." the mage leaned back and toyed with his bony chin. "You know, I've asked myself that for a few years now. I'm not quite sure. But I can say, at an early point in time, I was very mortal. I knew magic, certainly, but very mortal. What I am now, well, that's a tricky question. Who I am, that is up to you. I have many names, none that you would know. It is expedient to have several names in this business. I have my mage name, the name I give to demons, the names I give to some mages, names for dimwitted villagers, and a few names for more practical purposes than speaking. But, you can call me Kune. It's as good a name as any..."

The answer probably gave more questions than anything else, but the mage gave a small nod, satisfied that he said that much. Then he thought. "Is it cold in here? I can't tell. Tell me if this seems off." The mage flicked his finger, casting several red sparks up into the air, where they quickly expanded into small red mists that vanished in the air. Moments later, the temperature went up several degrees. "Mmm, that might do it."

He watched the others in the room, seeing what there was to work with. One with a whiff of demon, one who seemed to have a few... health problems. It was interesting to him for watch those interactions as they happened. Especially amusing was the fact that the plague bearer was taken as the leader in one case. He didn't lift a finger to correct that impression.

[User]
Orkag did not like the answer of the old mage, he found out a name, but it was most likely not even his true name. For a few moments he glared at the old mage again, trying to read him and his intentions, but other than his powerful aura, he simply looked like an old man. Orkag growled slightly in frustration and closed his eyes. However, as he closed his eye, Kune could see that the second magical raven, the one on his shoulders was staring straight towards him to analyze him.

As the raven looked around and studied the motely crew that had gathered, it noticed something out of the ordinary, not the plaguebringer, who people already seem to have thought to be the leader of this new band of people, but the young catgirl curiously looking around at everyone. The raven looked at her only for a moment longer before it left it's place on the small outcropping and flew towards her, gently landing on her shoulder careful not to harm her with it's claws and it looked at her with pools of a deep blue.

After a few moments of simply staring at her, the raven started to nuzzle it's head at the catgirl in what could possibly be as one of the ways the raven showed affection. Moments after, the raven jumped in her lap simply nested there, closing it's eyes and simply waiting.

What are you doing, you stupid raven, you're supposed to survey the area! Orkag asked the raven telepathically, only to receive no answer from it at all.

With another sigh of frustration he turns towards the old mage and nods briefly, before turning and walking towards the where his raven had landed, at the catgirl, without realizing that someone like him might scare someone like her with his looks in general.

"Girl..." He wanted to ask the girl what she had done to his raven, however, upon noticing her cat ears, he stopped in mild amazement towards it. However, as he thought, he realized that shouting at a little girl would not make him seem very friendly, so instead, he took in a deep breath and asked in a much calmer tone.

"Sorry for the rather abrupt question, young girl, but what's your name... a better question, that I hope isn't too rude, what are you?" he asked once more, this time sitting down a seat apart from her as to not intimidate her too much and simply awaited the answer.

[Assistant]
FangWhile she didn't have a reason to trust the old mage, Fang wasn't too concerned about distrusting him either. The words he spoke seemed genuine enough, if vague. She nodded in acknowledgement of his explanations and glanced around at the others and found herself uncomfortable. Even with the cold, wet weather dampening her magic, she could sense not all magic was equal among her fellow magic users. Some of it seemed quite dark, and her gaze lingered on the large orc and the tall mage with a raspy voice and cloud of sickness. She refrained from verbal judgement, her attention flickering back to the old mage as he shot sparks from his fingers. She was pleasantly surprised that the room began to heat. How lovely.

The woman beside her had been radiating warmth, however, and Fang found her rough around the edges, but charming. She would have introduced herself, but she didn't have the time as the orc caught her attention again instead. She watched as he talked to the youngest member of the group. He asked a question no doubt on the minds of many, and she watched quietly, waiting on the girl's response. She supposed formal introductions were in order now that everyone has arrived.


[System]
Firebender | Late Teens | Female

Appearance:
Arrin is fairly tall for her age, standing at roughly five foot seven. She has amber colored eyes with long, with overall fairly good looking sharp features. Her skin is a dark color from a constant tan from being out in the sun, usually avoiding work or other responsibilities in favor of taking a nap. Her clothing consists of fairly standard Fire Nation clothing. Long, dark red color pants with some fairly comfortable boots. On her torso, she wears a sleeveless vest that covers just her chest, leaving her midriff quite open. Her arms are adorned with simple gloves.

Equipment:
Equipment? Well, aside from always carrying some Mangos on her to snack on or something, she doesn't carry much. Carries food and other supplies in a sack slung over her shoulder, along with a map of wherever she's around at the moment.

Personality:
Now, if one were to describe Arrin in a few words, it'd be 'Lazy, apathetic, and sleeps way to goddamn much'. Of course, those are the words her parents call her when getting on her case about slacking off and avoiding chores and work. They aren't entirely wrong, either. Arrin takes a rather lackadaisical jokester approach to most things, and it's fairly evident in the way she acts and talks. She takes her time with her words, often taking a few seconds to completely reply to someone. Sometimes, it might seem like she's not even listening and has fallen asleep. Some, though take a bit further and say she's a bit on the slow side because of it.

Well, they couldn't be more wrong in that department. While she is probably not the smartest girl out there, she's far from dull or slow-witted. In fact, she thinks she's got life all figured out. Everyone's so worried about their businesses profits, what the next nation over is doing...if they just took the time to slow down and smell the Fire Lillies, then maybe they'd stop stressing over every little thing and have a bit more fun with life. Arrin takes everything in stride, and doesn't let...well, anything really get to her. She'll laugh off most bad remarks someone might make about her, she'll take any conflict with the same lackadaisical approach she does everything else, and often time comes off as incredibly and unusually calm when dealing with what some might call a major problem.

That said, well...she lacks motivation for just about anything, and is just coasting through life at the moment without any goals or plans for the future. She lives most in the here and now, and plans ahead very little, taking a 'she'll take it as it comes' approach to events. If something bad happens, well, big whoop, it happens. If something awesome happens, well, good for her. Point is, she doesn't care what happens in the future, and as such lacks any motivation to achieve anything.

However, despite her calm and lackadaisical approach to most things, one should be aware she does have a horrible temper. It doesn't come out very often since she tends to bottle up her anger and negative emotions for the perceived betterment of everyone else. That means, at times, when she's had a particularly bad day - as rare as they might be - she might just have had enough and literally explode on you. She holds grudges, and if she doesn't like you, or if you have offended her in some way...well, you can expect to receive a cold shoulder and a third degree burn.

She also well, doesn't really concern herself much with others and more or less just looks after herself. While she certainly would help those she called friends in her own special way...well, she's not about to go through a lot of trouble for some random guy on the street.

History:
Arrin's history is...well, rather boring and mundane, to be honest. Her father was a firebender, serves in the military, on a Fire Nation ship. Her mom ran a rather pleasant little tea shop, and greatly enjoys drinking the stuff herself. Some people like to joke that her mom drank so much relaxing tea, that it's the cause of Arrin's rather relaxed approach to life. Most of her early life consists of well...what she always does. Avoiding work, sleeping, and generally being Lazy. She hasn't really changed all that much at all since she was a kid - though some argue that she still is one despite almost being a young adult.

She lived in the Fire Nation capitol most of her life, though she was born in her moms home village some distance away. She had a fairly easy, calm life growing up, and is quite well traveled. Her father often liked to take his family with him to distant ports in all the nations, and she's been to the Earth Kingdom, the Southern and Northern water tribe, though she's never once step foot anywhere near the Air nomads.

It was after one such voyage when she returned home, she met her first pokemon. A small little Chimchar that had somehow managed to sneak its way into the family's house and munch on their food and tea. Her mother was furious, her dad laughed...and she, well, hugged the thing, and after some discussion and persuasion, she was allowed to keep the Chimchar, as long as she stopped slacking off so much. For a time, well, she did, but old habits die hard, as they say.

Her life continued fairly much the same since then. Her parents getting on her case about stopping being lazy and putting some work ethic into things. Her father taught her the basics of firebending, and her mom managed to drill some tea-related things into her head. Eventually, though, she...well, got tired of it. The constant harping of her parents. It was mostly her mom, really, telling her that she should start working better around the shop or join the military like her father. And well...one day, she just had enough of it.

She packed some mangos, other fruit, a map, took all the money she could find in the house...and left.

Aspirations:
Arrin, well, she needs motivation and some goal of her own. She currently doesn't really have one, and is just coasting through life doing...well, whatever she wants and dealing with whatever the world throws at her as calmly as she can. While this isn't necessarily a bad thing, she does need a goal and some motivation to work towards that goal. This goal...well, can be anything really. It might end up being bad in the long run, or good.

Chimchar| Chim | Male
Personality:
Chim, well, has a similar approach to Arrin about most things. He likes napping and generally not doing work. However, he does have a bit of a mischievous streak in him and often likes to mess with people in some fashion. He also tends to like fighting, and take it fairly seriously and won't back down from a challenge. He'll often pester Arrin to train with him, which she begrudgingly will agree to most times.

Fighting Style:
Dodge incoming attacks, get close, and hit hard enough to KO them in a single punch. That really, well, describes Chim's fighting style. He prefers physical or physically augmented flame attacks in battle, while dodging attacks from his opponents. However, he's not adverse to using ranged attacks to his advantage if he must.

How the Pokemon will Evolve:
She's heard of a few methods, though mostly from her father. Training alone in an area with intense heat such as a volcano, overcoming some physical limitation through intense physical training, eating a bunch of spicy peppers...and well, the list gets more and more ridiculous and likely more untrue with each one. Personally, though, she doesn't care too much. He'll evolve when he evolves. That's about it.

Desired Second and Third Pokemon:
Luxray and Flygon at the moment, those these will likely change depending on character development if she doesn't already have one.

[User]
Yaze Nikasai
Yaze smiled good naturedly at the mango girl. She seemed pretty wound up right now, so it was understandable that she would misinterpret his intentions. "Relax, I was just cracking a joke." Before he could continue however, a trio of individuals giving off a fairly negative vibe emerged from the tavern. Two men and a scraggy, who Yaze was careful to not look at directly. The firebender stood by as they gave mango girl a hard time, before eventually moving on. "I think that was uncomfortable for both us. Do you have a name though? Or am I going to have to call you nameless-attractive-mango-girl?" Just a moment later, the girl from the roof dropped down to his right.

"Wow, that guy needs to stop and smell the Fire Lily's. Maybe he's disappointed he didn't get a Mango dropped on him?" Yaze opened his mouth to reply, before realizing that the statement wasn't directed at him, before going ahead and speaking his piece anyways.

"I agree." Well, he didn't exactly say anything impressive, but then again, he never promised anything impressive either. Yaze figured that all was right with the world, with that knowledge safely nestled in his brain.

"Salutations, would you people happen to know where the tournament is being held?" Well! Another arrival, this one a waterbender. As the Water Tribesman asked for directions, Yaze spied another individual approaching. A female that appeared to be of Earth Kingdom descent. O, mysterious tavern, thine powers art great, why must thou summoneth so many to this place? Mine heart knoweth thine truth, but mine brain fathom it not. O, mysterious tavern, I implore thee, make thine intentions known! The firebender chuckled once, lightly.

[Assistant]
Satomi

As the Earthbender passed by, Satomi shot a scathing look of annoyance, and nothing more. No need for a bigger scene to keep those jerks around..I'll let it go. She rolls her eyes and strides forward to join the group now surrounding the mango splattered girl. She was occupied with the fruity sight, noticing chunks of mango scattered upon the ground about her, until she saw the culprit jumping down from the roof carelessly.  Well, she doesn't seem mean, just reckless.

"Sorry, that was my last one too."

A look of bewilderment spread slowly across Satomi's face, as she began, "Wait, I didn't wa-" Cutting herself off, she realized that it would be no use to argue. She sighed and looked back at the mango-tosser. "Never mind, just..watch your stuff. That probably hurt her."
She reached back and pet Katori reassuringly, noting the crowd gathering around. He was no doubt getting nervous, but groups of people like this are bound to have information on the festival events and locations. Sticking around couldn't hurt.

"Salutations, would you people happen to know where the tournament is being held?"

Turning her head toward him, she shrugs. "No clue. I'm here to kind of figure that out as well, among other things." Questions about some trainers or casual sparring spots sat on the tip of her tongue, but she held it and opted to listen more and gauge her surroundings.

[User]
Ｓ Ｕ Ｕ
NOGII ISLAND, OUTSIDE THE TAVERN

Suu carefully pulled off her feathered headpiece and let her long hair flow free by pulling out the band holding it back. She could feel one of the others stroking his hands across her head and carefully scoop out the chunks of fruit. While Miki's grooming process was taking place, Suu thought it'd be best to reply to Yaze's original enquiry about her name.

"I'm Suu, and today has not been the best of days," she finally replied, feeling less burdened by the pain that was passing through her head and more annoyed at how messy she looked. She listened carefully to what each of the others were saying, noting that eventually the topic seemed to change towards the Equinox Festival.

Suu knew a little bit about the festival from what some of the Tavern patrons were discussing. There seemed to be an assortment of attractions from various markets to performances, and even the highly awaited Tournament. The tournament was held within a large, specially built arena which was surrounded by the four camps of each of the four nations. It was a place that allowed for the simple accommodation of many travellers for the sole reason of participating in the games, while containing an assortment of open areas that allowed for training and practice before each match. Not every entrant was using these facilities however with a few heading out towards the forests for more privacy. Many of the public onlookers were other competitors and they spent their time jotting down notes and observing different techniques for their own personal research.

"I believe the Tournament is over towards the south of the island near the harbour port. I passed it when I first came to the island and noticed the Earthbenders were forming the stadium," Suu spoke out loud as she licked her fingers clean. You couldn't blame her for taking advantage of the mango knowing it couldn't go to complete waste. "Oh my lord! This stuff is everywhere!" she cried out, feeling a small chunk drip down her back.

As Suu arched her back and hastly attempted to reach around with her arms in order to grab the piece, an Waterbender boy came jogging up towards the small group. "Miki! Miki! There you are!" He was young and looked like he hadn't even reached puberty yet, but what he lacked in age and size he made up for in juvenile energy. "Papa sent me out to look for you when you never appeared at the Avatar's Temple. He told me you get lost easily, but it's so cool! there's statues off all different Pokemon! Some I never even heard of!"

[Assistant]
"Salutations, would you people happen to know where the tournament is being held? I seem to have gotten separated from the rest of my healing squad, they said they would escort the Avatar there... So if you could tell me where I need to go I would be in your debt!"

Arrin gave Miki a friendly smile as he walked up and introduced himself, though she said nothing as Chim climbed his way up and took a rest on her shoulder. Arrin simply continued to give everyone a lax smile as they conversed, content not to say anything for the moment. In her opinion, they were getting along very well! Well, aside from Satomi who seemed to have some concerns about Suu being hurt from having a mango dropped on her.

This caused Arrin to gaze somewhat intently at Suu, trying to discern if she was, in fact, hurt in some manner. She seemed fine, but she admittedly wasn't the best when it came to dealing with people sometimes.

"I'm Suu, and today has not been the best of days,"

At hear that, Arrin immediately smiled and looked at Satomi, completely seeming to Ignore Suu's exasperation about it 'being everywhere'.

"See? She's fiiiine. Mangoes make everyones day better." She smiled at Satomi, seemingly completely uninterested in the tournament. She wasn't here for that, after all, though it did sound somewhat interesting. Maybe she could watch it with these guys? It'd certainly be cool. No way in hell was she participating though. She wasn't exactly good at that sorta stuff. "So what's this tournament anyways?"


[System]
Game Origin: Street Fighter IV
Appearance:

[User]
Level 9 Blazermate - (43/90)
The Maw > The Stage
Words: less than 750

Blazermate, Nadia, and Ace came in at the right time to save the day, their fellow members having issues with fighting some rice, tentacle... things... But their intervention saved the day momentarily, allowing those turned into food to turn back with the defeat of said tempura wizards. IT was then explained what this 'curse' was, apparently only meat products were cursed, which Blazermate promptly removed from her backpack, offering the non meat items to those who were hungry. Thankfully she didn't have to worry about this curse, but it defensively caused concern for everyone else here. Especially after what happened...

After a bit of healing and eating, the group moved on to their next destination, the headquarters of whoever was running this ship. Unlike the others, Blazermate didn't actually see this geisha coming in, so she didn't know this was the big bad. Although the performance she was about to see would solidify that fact soon enough.

The group found themselves in a, frankly, japanese theatre with sitting pillows and everything. Much like Sakura, Blazermate said. "Its like at home when you go to Ninja world or something." She did agree with the others pointing out the 'guests' in this area.... They really weren't healthy. Nor pretty. The one that Bowser seemed to know was the best looking of the bunch, at least he seemed to try to keep himself looking somewhat proper. Although while two of the others were really ugly, especially the slug lady, the guy with the marble women around him looked weird, but not so bad thanks to his company? Why did he have moving marble statues anyway? Well that was a thought that'd get resolved never as a kid that had guided Nadia became the 'attraction' of the show, the room going dark and a single beam of light shining down upon him as a tall kabuki woman came out from some nearby manikins of herself and did.... something... to the boy, turning him into some shriveled husk thing, much to the cheers of the fatties watching the show.

Having completed her show, she gestured in the direction of the group before moving on. "So... uh.... Guess we've gotta deal with her. Kinda a relief considering all the other stuff below if we can figure out what she does..." Blazermate said. Seeing as there were some rooms around, Blazermate suggested that they look in the one named "storeroom' to see if it had any weapons or anything. Although knowing this place, it probably was just full of corpses or something. Bowser and the troop had the same idea.

[Assistant]
Word Count: 459 (+1 exp)
Level: 8 - Total EXP: 30/80
Location: Edge of the Blue - The Maw
'Dinner and a show,' as Nadia had put it, was a horrible experience. The Seekers could do nothing but watch from their spots beside the audience as that kid was closed in on. The kid that could have been anyone of them, if they'd remained separated. That he wasn't didn't make the scene any easier to watch. The little voice in the back of the Ace Cadet's head that demanded optimism told him he might still be alive, but he couldn't make himself say it aloud, not when he was surrounded by tears and rage.

The Lady had the audacity to taunt them after the display, and if that didn't just rile the group up. She and her monsters slid back into the darkness, daring the Seekers to go after her. The Cadet wanted to do it, show that woman that they weren't afraid of her, but that would just be putting himself right where she wanted them, just as the others had said. She seemed to want to put on a show for the people here, but that wasn't about to happen.

The group went to talking about their next steps. None realistically thought that rushing after the Lady was a good idea. The doors leading off from the room they were in seemed like the best option at the moment, as most of the discussion boiled down to one simple plan: find something to help them take care of the Maw's mistress. Whether it was a secret weapon, or a secret weakness, they needed some kind of leg up.

The Cadet threw in his two cents, as between the four rooms he thought, "Mirage is right, if that's really her chambers then we might find something useful in there."

The idea that she might have booby trapped the room came up, but that didn't worry him. He still thought that the Lady was underestimating them, so she wouldn't have any reason to rig her own office on the off chance of intruders. He could be wrong, but he was willing to take the chance. "If she comes after us then we'll deal with her. We'll still be on her turf, but it'll be our terms."

Some turned their attention to the storeroom, which was fair. With their large group splitting up wouldn't normally be a problem - they'd done it often already and always came back together - but with the mastermind so close it felt all the more dangerous to be apart from one another... but that just meant they had to be fast.

"C'mon, we'll ransack the place quick and see if there's anything useful," he said, looking among the remaining group for any that would brave the "Lady's Chambers" as well.

[User]
Level 6: 23/60
Location: The Maw: The Kitchen
Word Count: 521
Points Gained: 1
New EXP Balance--- Level 6 : 24/60

 Sakura wondered if she should be embarassed being carried around like this, but she was too tired to care at this point. Plus, she looked and felt like a helpless child, so it wasn't like she was adult Sakura being carried like this. Right?

 Nadia, Mirage, and of course Bella reassured her about her homeland, which made Sakura smile. "Well. All right. I h-hope you guys get to see it someday, but I don't know how."  She had imagined that they would all be parting ways once this all over, if everything went back to normal. But she hoped that maybe in this big World of Light, her parents were sitting happily in their house. Once Sakura found them, she could introduce all her new friends to her family and her home. That was a nice thought.

 One that wouldn't last for long, as everyone was given backrow seats to the prelude of the night's festivities. The kid from earlier was still running away. Sakura tensed up, turning around to watch with wide eyes. When the Lady picked up Runaway with her magic powers, Sakura cried and averted her eyes, burying her face in Bella's shoulder.

 Fabric balled up in her little fists. That poor kid...an actual kid, probably.

 "..." Silently, she indicated Bella to set her down. Once back on her own two feet, Sakura straightened out her dress with her shaking hands. A child mutated before their very eyes, and they were powerless to stop it. Once again she felt like throwing up, but she forced herself to keep what little food she had running through her system. Instead she just made an odd noise and coughed. Lower limp trembling, her knuckles were white from squeezing into fists. For a moment, it might seem like she was resolute, or angry. But she wasn't.

 "I'll just..." She looked at Ace. "Stay here. I think."  She admitted, frightened. Scared of screwing up again, and afraid of dying or being cooked alive or some twisted fate worse than death. Afraid of the ghoulish spectators that relaxed dumbly in the seats infront of her. After a near constant deluge of mistakes and powerlessness, Sakura's spirit had given up the ghost, it seemed. She just couldn't take it anymore.

 As Bowser marched off to the store room, Sakura found a clear spot to sit down in the darkness, the geisha dolls looming high overhead. Curling up, she clutched her knees to her chest; as if she was cold. She opened her palms, stared at them for a moment, and then clenched her fists again. Stupid, useless, soft little things. Once again she returned to the question: Who was she without her strength? The answer: A pointless liability. Which, she supposed internally, was fair enough. She wasn't going to be too hard on herself for that. But she did need to stop deluding herself into thinking she could be helpful in these dire circumstances. So she sat in silence, making herself as small and as hard to see as possible in the shadows of the back row of the theater.


[System]
Age: 30

Race: Caucasian

Sex: Female. Approximately 5' 11" tall, with blonde hair, steel grey eyes, and an athletic figure as per her military pedigree. Objectively quite stunning in her attractiveness.

Skills: ace pilot, energy weapons

Personality: highly intelligent but generally, socially clueless. She comes off as cold and unfriendly but truly, she doesn't have a natural propensity towards small talk and casual conversation. Smoker.

Weapons & armor/clothing: Enclave-issue plasma pistol, mismatched light armour pieces suitable for a travelling merc. Also carries a small knapsack full of items of sentimental value, such as a photograph of her and her twin brother, various medals and pins earned within the Enclave (including her dog tags), and a pocket watch featuring an engraving.

Occupation: Mercenary/security guard for hire.

Faction (Minutemen, Institute, BOS, Railroad, None. Etc): Formerly Enclave, now unaffiliated.

Backstory:

Frieda was born seven minutes before her fraternal twin, Brian, but spent the majority of her life living in his false shadow. Their father was a high ranking official who lost his life during a mission while the twins were young. Subject to the same vigorous physical and weapons training through her life in the Enclave, no matter what she did, somehow her brother was favoured even when their skills and scores were on par. Where Frieda was more acerbic in personality, her brother's stoic demeanour tended to be extolled. Eventually, she was to be trained as a pilot, whereas her brother was destined for the front lines and recon. Her natural ability to focus on her task at hand while under pressure and make clear, logical decisions, saw her rise quickly through the ranks as one of their best pilots.

Despite the artificial rivalry their peers and superiors tried to place upon them, Frieda and Brian were inseparably close. They celebrated each other's achievements and differing designations. Brian was the only person in her life constantly validating her own skills, when so many others preferred to compare her to her brother. They held up and supported each other. When her brother left on a recon mission, never to return, his loss was a devastating blow. The Enclave considered his and his team's mission a failure, and did not send a rescue team.

Frieda wandered through the months that followed in a total daze, unable to find any peace in the thought that her brother was gone for good. He had been a grounding presence in her life, and without him, she found it impossible to find meaning in staying with the Enclave. In a daring move, she packed her most valuable things into a knapsack, stole a Vertibird, and decided to look for her brother, herself. Unfortunately, she miscalculated the trajectory of a rad storm, and found herself completely off course and crashing into the woods of what used to be New Hampshire.

Alive, but without any caps to her name nor desire to return to the Enclave, she wandered east, taking small mercenary type jobs from various settlements until she reached the ocean, and arbitrarily chose to wander south. She found herself wandering into Salem, hoping the sparse settlement could use some full-time muscle, until such time she was able to begin the search for her brother anew.

and:

Name: Celeste Brown

Age: 24

Race: Caucasian/mixed western European

Sex: Female. Barely 5'1", with shoulder length, very dark brown, curly hair, and bright blue eyes. She carries a stout figure with a noticeably voluptuous chest.

Skills: cooking, bartending, bartering

Personality: very charismatic, friendly, and genuinely sweet to everyone she encounters.

Weapons & armor/clothing: Wasteland settler garb including t-shirts, sweaters, skirts, dresses, slacks, and sneakers. Carries small sentimental trinkets, such as a pair of her mother's earrings and other inherited jewelry, and her father's first set of knives.

Occupation:  Barkeep/innkeep

Faction (Minutemen, Institute, BOS, Railroad, None. Etc): None

Backstory:

Celeste has a very plain and lackluster backstory. Originally from a settlement on the Canadian side of Niagara Falls, she was born to two, loving, hard working parents. Her mother operated a successful trading business, having set up at the border, and her father was a talented baker and chef. She learned the best of both occupations from a young age; the art of the deal from her mom, and how to create the flakiest pastry and well-balanced soups from her dad. Through her late teens, Celeste started to feel the wanderlust. While a steady stream of folks came through Niagara Falls between the two pre-war countries, so did their stories. Celeste started to dream of the world beyond the river and the escarpment, but for many years, seeing it for herself remained a dream. A caravan travelling from Burlington near Ronto, en route to the eastern seaboard, thrilled Celeste with their talk of the bright and beautiful Diamond City, that she insisted she go with them. She chipped in her own caps for the protected passage, said a bittersweet goodbye to her parents, and was on their way.

The travel would prove to be very harsh on sweet, tender Celeste. Slogging through the terrain, surrounded by hostiles at every turn, and fearing for her life, all had begun to tarnish her shiny impression of the world outside her childhood home. Chronic optimism kept her going, but a very small part of her began to consider that she had made a huge mistake.

Celeste would never make it to Diamond City. The caravan made a stop in Salem in an attempt to top up on purified water, and Celeste would fall in love with the town. The setting, the buildings, everything felt so beautiful and comfortable to her. She had a pocket full of caps and stars in her eyes. After a convincing conversation with the caravan, who assured her that Salem could become part of their regular route, she decided to settle back down and merely travel through the wasteland as she always had: by the stories and tales brought in by others.

[User]
Rick Noel - Clinic

Rick looked at the doctor and nodded, "Yes, of course she remains in charge. We wouldn't be where we currently are withuot her. The smartest decision the directorate could've made was select her for the possition, especially after Father screwed...I'm sorry, I am out of line and should not have said so." Rick lowered his head, speaking ill of the directorate and its leaders by someone of his level was unheard of, at least until he had a doctorate and had proven himself.

He cleared his throat, "But regardless, yes construction is smoothly progressing. The entrance and its security have been completed. No unwanted pest will be able to enter the vault, perhaps we can do better this time...Luckily we have plenty of generation 1 and 2 synths to do some of the hard labor, after all, many within our ranks have never done any sort of physical labor."

He looked at his gun and the though of the man he had killed returned. Luckily the supplement was working and he no longer felt deathly ill, though he felt the death of the man would linger on in his mind. He was lost in thought and had not been able to hear what the doctor was saying to him.

"I'm sorry doctor I tuned out for a bit... a lot on my mind. What's troubling I don't remember reading any sort of reports of a hooded group of surface dwellers living near these area. Prior to coming I was at Dunwich Borers, and they were doing the most weird thing. They were chanting or something before an obelisk or idol. It seemed they were worshiping it. They spoke a language I could not understand."

He paused for a bit to try and recollect the ones he and Mary had fought. "i stumbled across a young woman named Mary, and as soon as I wonder two of them in their hoods attacked us. They shouted something "PH´NGLUI SOTH!" At first I thought it might be latin, but i was never good in language class, and tuned out most of the dead languages they made us learn. Mary said it wasn't, possibly a made up language. It's all odd, to me it makes no sense."

"In all honesty it reminded me of something out of those old fiction books located in the library. You know the ones that had cults and worshiping of other worldly beings... I think some surface dweller read a book and took it to be true rather than fiction... I think next time I return to the vault I'll peruse the digital library where all those books are located."

[Assistant]
Adam 'Trails' Wilford- Ace's Diner

Adam stood there, waiting to see if he could enter properly until Ace spoke,"Yeah, we are open… Betty help the gentleman out. I need some air." He said, heading to a hatch. "Whatever, leaving me alone…again.", the girl, Betty, said moodily. Ace didn't seem to be in the mood for taking lip, "That's what I hired you for. Find out if the toaster would like anything, I'm sure there's a can of motor oil for it somewhere." he said, descending down the ladder. Betty turned to Adam as she smacked so gum, "Whatcha having old man?". Adam seemed confused before he remembered why he'd came here. "Right. Coffee, black if it ain't too much trouble, ma'am. Maybe a side of Brahmin steak too". Adam walked over to an old classic red swivel seat at the faded countertop and put his head down on the counter, arm over his neck trying to fight off a headache and tiredness. When he looked up again, he looked over to Betty and asked, "So whats with the head chef there and that fuss? And what's he mean 'android'? That some kind of robot?", he hiked a thumb to the guy nearby, "He don't look like no RobCo product I've ever seen."

[User]
FRIEDA RICHTER - Salem Clinic -- mid-afternoon

"Yes well...obviously he's suffering from some severe food poisoning," Arthur announced, "Probably brought on by some unwholesome meat or spoiled vegetables. Nothing to worry about I can treat him in my office."

"Ah. Yes, I've...seen that before, once or twice," Frieda replied, cryptically.

Arthur then helped him up and began escorting him gently towards the staircase, making sure to keep the bin close at hand in case the man had the urge to vomit again, "Uh...oh yes.." he said, remembering something and turning back to Frieda, "Thank you for the lunch Ms. Richter it was very much appreciated. If you don't mind holding down the fort here a bit longer while I treat this man, I'd be grateful. I'll..uh...just be a moment."

"I -- wait a sec --" she called after him, watching him retreat up the stairs with the patient. She rubbed her brow, wondering if it were necessary to drag the poor wretch all the way up the stairs for a glass of water and some dry crackers. But, what did she know? She already admitted the most she knew about first aid involved bandaids and deep breaths. Frieda thought he might be avoiding her, to some degree, but that didn't seem unusual to her, either. Just yesterday she all but told Steve to fuck off when he asked her where she was from, and all she wanted was a cigarette.

A cigarette.

The craving smashed into her like a load of bricks. She walked out the main entrance and lit up almost immediately. Frieda eyed the pack and frowned. Had she really smoked half of them, since last night?

She reflected on the fact she still had no money, and no way to buy Brandy dinner, let alone barter another pack of smokes off her. How was the supply back home so endless, and up here, she couldn't keep up with her own vices?

Addiction is a powerful thing.

The scuffle of a pair of booted feet going by caused her to look up and regard Barney Rook puffing on his own cigarette. "Hey!" she called to him. He looked over, raised an eyebrow, but continued walking. "HEY!!" she repeated, daring to take two steps out of the clinic. "I need to talk to you, but I can't leave. Can you come over here, please?"

Barney chuckled, but complied. "What do you want?"

"Look. I need money. You need people in your militia. We all need a safe clinic. Do you agree?"

Barney shrugged. "I guess. Why?"

"I want you to put me on the payroll, as clinic guard."

Barney took a drag of his cigarette. "That ain't on the list. We need folk to keep out the riff raff and the wildlife, not stand around in front of others who're pukin' and bleedin'."

"Yeah, well," Frieda took a step towards Barney, putting her entire essence much too close to him for either person's comfort. "Have you met the doc? He isn't exactly...calloused, let's say. Kind of 'Vault fresh,' if that means something to you? And besides that, I don't think he knows which end is the business end of a gun." She made a point of sizing up the man in front of her, in an attempt to appear intimidating. "You know what happens if he ends up hurt, or worse? We go from having a competent medical professional in our midsts -- who, by the way, refuses to take any money for treatment he performs -- to hoping none of us get so much as a scratch out here in the middle of Massachusetts."

Barney blinked. "Middle of where?"

"The Commonwealth," Frieda quickly corrected. "So, are you gonna pay me, or not?"

"Suppose I could put you on probation," Barney mumbled. "The doc is important, that much is true. An' I guess we'll find out if you're as good as worth payin' soon enough."

Frieda internally rejoiced. "I won't let you down, sir," she rattled reflexively.

Barney rubbed the back of his neck. "See that you don't," and with that, he'd shuffled off.

Score one for me, she thought to herself with a smile. Frieda re-settled herself against the doorframe, twirling the scissors.