[System]
Age: 24

Gender: Female

Appearance: With a thin frame and a height of only 5'5", Ivory isn't the most intimidating figure that one might see, and she certainly doesn't try to be. She possesses some Native Alaskan blood in her (Inupiaq blood, to be exact), and some of her features do share this fact, including slightly slanted eyes and skin with a bronze glow. However, she also has Irish and Italian blood in her, giving her a thinner face and gray eyes. Her hair is a medium brown in coloration and on the long side, reaching to the middle of her back, but is often kept up in a ponytail or messy bun.

When it comes to clothing Ivory's wardrobe is pretty ordinary for a young adult. Jeans and plain t-shirts or tanktops seem to be a common choice for her, along with boots or tennis shoes. Anything other than those are usually reserved for days that she is forced to attend a more formal event, but even then she keeps an extra pair of clothes in the car. When hunting she wears more concealing and flexible clothing, including a hood. Not a red one, mind you, but instead black in coloration with her family's motto stitched into it, 'Fortis et fideliter' - brave and loyal. She also wears her mother and father's wedding rings on a silver necklace.

Creature: Human

Type of Hunter: Lycan Hunter

Ivory only hunts with silver weapons, which is to be expected. Her primary weapon is a crossbow with silver arrows, but she also possesses two silver daggers in case anything gets too close for comfort. She also has a male Tamaskan named Tikaani, who was raised by Ivory and trained to help track and hunt lycans.

How long have you been hunting/afflicted:  Hunting for about 6 years. Needless to say, she's still a beginner.

Background: Ivory's father was the only parent present in her life, and he had come from an old but surviving bloodline of werewolf hunters, so it was only natural that Ivory continued the tradition. Training began at a young age for Ivory, but she wasn't allowed to play with sharp weapons at first. Instead she helped train the dogs her father raised, Tamaskans that were trained to help hunt werewolves and the like. Books about vampires, lycans, witches, and anything along those lines took up the space on her bookshelf. At 13, when she knew the basics, and plus some, she finally began training with weapons. By the time she was 18 she successfully took down her first lycan - with her father's help, of course.

The two hunted lycans for about two years together, until they came about a rather peculiar lycan that seemingly had no desire to attack. Still, with every instinct demanding the strike, Ivory and her father battled until her father was left with a deadly injury. The lycan seemed distraught once it saw what it had done and hurried off, leaving daughter and father alone. His death came quickly, but despite the tragedy Ivory continued what she was raised to do. She continued to work independently, until a familiar name came about. William Hendrick, a name that her father would occasionally mention. There was no reward promised that could potentially grasp her interest, but he grabbed her curiosity with his outrageous proposition.

Reason for Joining: She claims she's only tagging along due to her curiosity, but she does have other reasons.

Arrived: 1 day ago

[User]
Ingrid had begun familiarizing herself with the village, seemingly walking about aimlessly as she inspected the various empty buildings. As she walked, she took note of each hunter she passed. They were a diverse lot, that much was certain. Even in unfamiliar territory, her personality was nearly entirely unfazed. She meandered about, gingerly humming to herself and swinging the briefcase back and forth in her right hand. As she walked, she took note of a rather intriguing member of their new group. The man appeared homeless, or at least he seemed that way. Even if the aroma of blood were to be completely ignored, he seemed like a rough fellow; a man most would probably avoid. Thus, Ingrid was led to follow him.

 Eventually, the strange, smelly man came to a stop, and began producing a multitude of machetes from his coat. Quizzically, Ingrid watched as he unloaded blade after blade from his person. For a moment, she was impressed that he'd managed to store so many. A quick overview of the man strongly suggested that he was a vampire, and if her intuition was to be trusted, not a very old one. A small smirk crossed Ingrid's lips as the man dropped the last of his weapons. Seemingly with no regard for normalcy or her own safety, the woman strode over to Rama, still grinning. "Quite the collection you got there." She motioned towards the pile of blades with a nod.

[Assistant]
The worn hunter felt rather at peace within the candlelit town hall. Now he had two different pieces of paper on his lap, and he repeatedly read each one over. They were both from two different Night Hunter Organizations. One from the North American region, and the other from the Primary Night Hunter's Hall in Europe. William still had a few friends left back in his previous place of work, but his good friends were long gone. He slid the letter from Europe back into his coat, and continued to read over the other. The letter spoke mostly of the activity in Maine, and about the few things the hunter and his group should be on the lookout for. Maine certainly wasn't short of things to do, but William knew he shouldn't stay here for too long.

 William left his seat and approached the podium at the front of the town hall. He left the letter there and paced back to the front door. By the entrance was a slightly rusted and cracked bell. He gave it a good couple of rings, the noise being easily heard throughout the village. With that, he walked back down the aisle and returned to the podium. It was time for the hunt to begin.

[User]
Allowed large, rounded auds to flatten upon skulls surface, blend of fur almost concealing them completely as nasal bridge rippled lifting curtain of lip and baring quick glimpse of hidden ivory daggers. Bright hues watching as what smelt like a human approached, no vocal was made by herself as she quickly glanced about watching others arrange what they needed alongside vanishing within buildings innards. The sound of human treating her as if she was a house pet caused a snarl to emerge as she shook out her scruff and paced around him out of the brush further, her size more visible at this point and quickly separating her from the standard domesticated dog, "Oh boy," was all she could even think at the way the strange person seemed so clueless, "What kind of hunter is he even meant to be?". Thick pelt shuddered over large silhouette as she allowed slither of pale pink flesh to emerge and run down maws length, she would of shifted by now, but she had nothing to put on at this point so she just prayed she wasn't too high of a target by the hunters that seemed to fill this unnatural group.

 Ace perked up as the sound of ringing bells struck her ears, the sound very loud and partially irritating as she huffed hefty breath and replaced her sight upon the closest figure of young human. "Guess I'll just follow him... He doesn't seem so dangerous compared to the rest," she'd allow to pass through her mind. She'd wait for him to move towards where the group was to assemble before trailing after him and keeping a wary distance, she had little to offer to the group at this point, but she was a quick learner in most things and would listen in and follow along until she was at all needed. She just hoped she'd find some form of clothing soon so she could return to a more comfortable size and blend a little better with the crowd rather than sticking out like a sore thumb.

[Assistant]
Rowan Hurst is a strange looking man with jet blood red hair and dark brown eyes. However his right eye is covered with an eye patch and it looks like little black veins connect to it at the edges of the eyepatch. His figure is more or less rather meek compared to many of the warriors coming in. Had he been a vampire or at least someone able to shapeshift into a werewolf his meager fortitude wouldn't be that much of a problem. Alas he is but only human. Humans are the weakest of the species but strangely he never felt any desire to be anything else.

 Getting up slowly out of his bed he looks about the nearly empty room. There is a single twin size bed in a wooden room with nothing on the walls but shreds of old and decayed wallpaper. There is a single tiny dresser on the other side of the vacant room which is still covered in dust from its lack of use. He had already unpacked many of his things into the dresser but all of his 'essentials' were still in his bag. Standing now he makes his way to the bag and opens it with a snap. The black leather bag opens easily and its highly organized inside. He does a quick double count of all of his items, several bottles of holy water, jars of varying substances (most of which look like slightly different colors of dust), a silver amulet with a strange design, chalk and a tiny book far to small to be a book of scripture.

 With a look outside Rowan suddenly realizes what time it is. He must have slept far longer than he had intended. The sun was already on its way down. Reaching into his vest pocket he pulls out an old wind up pocket watch. He flips it open and a small picture of himself with an older priest decorates the other side of the watch. Scowling at the time he quickly closes the bag and walks out of the room. he didn't bother to turn off the light as the light didn't work in that room. It didn't work in any room actually as there had been no power to this building for quite some time. He liked it specifically because it was rather quiet and there was less broken glass than the average abandoned building in this small god-forsaken town. He made a quick mental note to get to work on the electricity problem when he was able to. But today was the day the rest of the people were supposed to arrive.

 Stepping out of the front door he closes it behind him carefully. Turning to look at the setting sun over the ocean port. The salty fresh air filled his lungs and it just took it in for a moment. However he started to shiver slightly as it was getting rather cold and the port wind didn't help matters in the slightest. Though a new face appeared in his line of vision as Roze had made her way in his general direction. Of course he highly doubted that she had done so intentionally and probably was just going to look at the ocean. None the less he felt the need to approach her.

 "Hello there!" Rowan says with a slightly Irish accent. It seems he has mostly lost what was once a stronger accent but you can still hear it faintly. "You one of the new ones to arrive today? My name is Rowan. Pleased to make your acquaintance miss..." he lets his sentence trail to give her an opportunity to introduce herself.

[User]
"Ooh, you're a big girl aren't ya'?" Ryan said now that she had gotten closer. He was suddenly startled by the sound of ringing bells, his attention soon taken off of Acacia and toward town hall. Seems they want everyone to gather up. He turned back to the "dog" he had been previously talking to, Ryan had still not realized his mistake even after she exited the bushes and allowed him to get a better look at her. "Come on, girl. If you've got an owner, I'm sure we'll find them. If not, maybe I can keep ya'," Ryan said cheerfully as he made his way to what he assumed to be the group's improvised headquarters.

Opening the door to let Acacia enter first, always the gentleman that Ryan, the red-haired young man entered afterward and took a seat on one of the benches in the middle of the rows, next to the walkway. First, he took in his surroundings. Besides himself and the lycanthrope-girl beside him, the only person in the town hall was the man that had called them here and had met him at the edge of town. What was his name, again? William, right? Ryan then turned toward Acacia. Seeing such a cute animal, yes he apparently found wolves to be cute, he had to fight the urge to begin petting and scratching behind her ears by sitting on his hands. Even though she had followed him inside, he wasn't completely oblivious to the fact that she had bared her teeth at him when he first approached her. Ryan had the suspicion that Acacia would most likely bite his hand off he tried to touch her now.

[Assistant] Henryk's attention was caught by the bell ringing on the town hall. He'd since stopped watching the Red haired boy and the wolf and kept an eye on the tree line but now he picked his axe back up and brought it up over his shoulder and made his way to the large building in the center of town. He entered just after Ryan and Acacia, though instead of taking a seat in the middle he took up a spot at the back of the room, somewhere he could see everyone when the meeting started. He set his axe back down beside him, leaning it on the wall and doing the same with his weathered-looking blunderbuss before leaning back in the chair and waiting for everyone to gather.

[User]
Ivory wasn't sure how much time had passed since she came inside the bar, but it was long enough to allow her to drift off to sleep for a short while without her even realizing it. However, the sound of a bell rang through the small village, instantly waking the light sleeper up. The sudden noise undoubtedly startled her, but it only took a few moments for her to regain her composure and get to her feet. It was safe to assume that the ringing was the cue that the meeting was about to start.

After grabbing her crossbow and calling Tikaani to her side, she began the short trip to the town hall.

Once she had opened the doors and stepped inside she observed those that had already gathered in the room. Of course, the first to catch her eye was the canine, which she immediately scowled at. It didn't take an expert to figure out that it wasn't someone's pet. The fact that Tikaani had begun growling only supported her assumption. Not wanting to cause a scene, especially in front of a group that undoubtedly had other beasts in it, she whispered a word of reassurance to her companion and beckoned him over to one of the far walls and took a seat near the edge.


[System]
BASIC
Goes By (Nicknames): Mel
Age: 2,500 approx.
Gender: Female
Race: Silvan Elf

APPEARANCE

Face Claim (Actor/Actress They're Played By): Ehh, she's never really had an actress per se, it's a drawn picture that I found on google that I use for her but it's just perfect for her xD)
Hair Color: Straw blonde
Eye Color: Ice blue
Skin Tone: Quite pale-porcelain-ish
Height: 6 ft
Weight: No idea tbh XD I'm no good at working out weights lol let's just say she weighs around what she's supposed to for her height
Build: Slender and tall like all of her kin, well-muscled with a strong/sturdy frame overall
Weapons: Bow (which was once her father's, was passed on to her when she was old enough to learn to shoot), Rapier, set of elven fighting knives

Overall Appearance:
Appearance + "Casual" Clothing (ignore the sword and the magic mist stuff, she doesn't have that xD) :

Armor:

Arm guards:

Bow:

Rapier:

Daggers:

PERSONALITY

Likes: The stars/star watching, spending time with her family, killing orcs etc.
Dislikes: Orcs and other such evil beings, watching her loved ones sad/suffering
Strengths: An excellent and swift fighter with both bow and blade, fiercely loyal and devoted to her family and loved ones, will always stand up for her beliefs and friends
Weaknesses: Headstrong and stubborn, does not always listen to others' advice or orders. Often impulsive and rushes into things before thinking of consequences.
Fears: Surviving severe injury but not being able to fight or look after herself properly, losing Legolas or Thranduil, being unable to have her own children someday

Overall Personality:
(huge paragraphs oops sorry-have a basic breakdown in case you don't feel like reading the whole thing xD)
Sarcastic | Untrusting | Loyal | Sharp-tongued/snappy | Compassionate | Sensitive

Mel is a witty, fairly sharp tongued and often sarcastic individual, she is wary of strangers and will take quite some time to trust most she meets, though those who have a child-like innocence about them seem to find her trust a lot easier. However her tough exterior does hide a soft and loving side deep down. To her family and close friends she is devoted and gentle, and would do anything for them. Losing someone that she cares deeply for affects her more than most perhaps, and it would take her a good few centuries on most accounts to reach the point where she can accept it fully and "move on" from it as well as she is capable. Indeed she still feels melancholy at thoughts of her passed relatives but can push it aside if the situation calls for it. Her sense of duty is unparalleled to most, and many a Mirkwood soldier who has served under her command has been known to describe Mel as "hard headed and as determined and foul-tempered as a Warg keeping hold of the last scrap of meat at mealtime". Once she has a job to do, she will not abandon it for any cause, no matter the consequences, until the task is completed.

Mel is extremely wary of dragons and would sooner attempt to kill one than converse with it, regardless of whether it approached her in a friendly manner or not. She has seen the ruin and death that dragons can bring, and indeed she will never forgive the beasts for tearing apart her family, to ask her to befriend one will be met with only contempt, bitterness and hate on her end. Other than dragons, there is very little that sparks enough fear in her to reduce her to a blubbering mess, as Mel is a particularly tenacious individual which is to be expected from someone who has grown up in a forest which has been steadily taken over by darkness and evil. Having to slay and fight with nests crawling with extremely large spiders on a daily basis means it's not exactly a "good idea" for lack of a better way to phrase it, to be afraid of them. However, anything larger than those spiders which she has experienced in Mirkwood is highly likely to leave her rather bemused and more than slightly concerned, as she has never confronted any arachnid of a larger size before in her life. In regards to how she responds to fear, even when Mel is scared to death she is not the type of individual to stand there literally quaking in her boots, whimpering and bawling. Instead she typically takes on the "rabbit in the headlights" kind of approach and tends to completely freeze up, totally unsure of whether to run away or fight whatever puts her in that position.

While she is by no means a "damsel in distress", nor does she necessarily act like a "spoilt princess", however she does occasionally act at rather 'high and mighty' as some may describe it, because of her well-off upbringing. Mel isn't a tantrum thrower by any stretch of the imagination, but she does at times react to things which displease her by pouting and/or sulking and then proceeding to make some sort of snide comment on the matter. Snide comments and sharp remarks are something Mel is never short of, which may come as a shock to some as they would expect someone of her upbringing to be "polite and lady-like", though she is far from it. She is not inherently rude all the time, and due to countless lessons from her aunt and uncle in her younger years she is perfectly capable of acting in a civil manner to form treaties, alliances and other such things, and is indeed even rather capable of sitting in on many political matters and being rather persuasive towards her own or her kingdom's need and win the opposing party over - even if it bores her to death! She does not take lightly to insults towards either herself or her family or kingdom, and unfortunately it doesn't take much to get her riled up. Mel is not unknown to take a swing or two at someone who overstepped their mark with her, though for the most part she tries her best to keep herself controlled and will usually just respond in turn with some other cutting remark towards the person who started the whole affair.

BACKGROUND

Date of Birth: I actually haven't been able to work it out exactly just yet XD it's a couple decades before Legolas', though ;)
Place of Birth: Mirkwood (well, back then it was still Greenwood but yeah XD)
Family Relations: Ardor (father, deceased) Thranduil (uncle), Legolas (cousin)

[User] As soon as she was flying above them at a great height, she noticed the orc above them as they hid. With anger flaring in her eyes, she gave a high-piercing screech before she charged. Dive bombing in flight, she violently collided with the orc rider head-on, making the warg tumble down the rock in front of the dwarves. Unfortunately, the squeal of the orc's death caught the attention of the others who were chasing Radagast. "The Dwarf-scum are over there! After them!", Azog ordered to them in Black Speech. "Move! Run!", Gandalf shouted to his dwarven companions. "This way! Quickly!", the fae followed while in flight as she continued to knock some orcs off course during the chase.

[Assistant]
The dwarves quickly followed Gandalf, having no other choice unless they wanted to be run down by the Orc pack. The group quickly became trapped between a strange rock formation and the pack that had caught up to them. Gandalf was nowhere to be seen as he had run into the hidden passageway that led to Rivendell.
"There's more coming!" shouted Kili as he spotted even more Wargs running towards the group.
"Where is Gandalf?!" Thorin shouted, not seeing the wizard.
"He's abandoned us!" Dwalin growled as he hefted his weapon, preparing to fight the orc pack to the death.

[User] As the orcs get closer, Gandalf suddenly appears from behind the large rock. "This way, you fools!", he yelled in order to get their attention. "Come on, move! Quickly! All of you!", Thorin shouted while standing near the small hole. One by one, each dwarf jumped, except for Kili. "Kili! Run!", the young prince turns and makes a run for it as the orcs get closer. Wickedly close they were, Maleficent swooped down and picked him up in flight. Flying towards the hole, she picked up Thorin in the process, and they all dropped into the hole.

[Assistant]
Kili grunted as he slid down the steep slope and landed at the bottom, dusting himself off as he staggered to his feet. "Th-Thanks..." the young dwarf gasped as he looked up at Maleficent.
The dwarves all froze as a horn sounded above them, followed by hoofbeats and then the sounds of battle.

Thorin and Kili leapt back as an orc rolled down the slope and landed at their feet. Poking it with the end of his axe, the dwarf prince discovered that it was dead. There was an arrow sticking out of its chest, which Thorin pulled out to examine it, his face forming into a scowl.
"Elves." he growled in disgust.

"I cannot see where the pathway leads!" called Dwalin from up ahead where a pathway was. "Do we follow it or no?!"
"Follow it of course!" Thorin shouted back to him.

[User] "I did tell you that I wasn't leaving you behind", the fae told Kili while her wings were folding back in their proper place on her back. "I think that would be wise", Gandalf nodded in confirmation since it was the only way to go that was safe at the moment. Following the path in the tunnel, there was a waterfall with a small city in the distance. "The Valley of Imladris. In the common tongue, it's known by another name" "Rivendell" Bilbo gaped in astonishment at the great city before them. "Here lies the last homely house, east of the sea" "This was your plan all along, to seek refuge with our enemy", Thorin growled in anger while already feeling betrayed.

[Assistant] "You have no enemies here, Thorin Oakenshield." Gandalf scolded the dwarf sharply. "The only ill will to be found in this valley is that which you bring yourself! We have a map that we cannot read, Lord Elrond can help us to read it! Now, if this is to be successful you shall leave the talking to me or Maleficent as we will need to be tactful and need a small degree of charm, which it seems you dwarves certainly lack in the presence of the Fair Folk."

[User] "I will assist you, Gandalf", Maleficent spoke up, to just break the tension. As they enter Rivendell, they are met by some elves. "Mithrandir", Elrond's right hand man, Lindir, greeted to the wizard. "Ah, Lindir" "We heard you had crossed into the Valley", Lindir spoke in Elvish. "I must speak with Lord Elrond" "My Lord Elrond is not here" "Not here? Where is he?", that was until the hunting horn was heard with the returning elf war party coming towards them. "Close ranks!", Thorin shouted as the elf war party surrounded the dwarves. "Gandalf!", the voice of Lord Elrond sounded as he rode up on his horse. "Lord Elrond, my friend! Where have you been?", Gandalf asked in Elvish. "We've been hunting a pack of Orcs that came up from the South. We slew a number near the Hidden Pass", Elrond responded back in the same language while getting off his horse. "Strange for orcs to come so close to our borders. Something or someone has drawn them near", he spoke back in the Common Tongue. "Ah, that may have been us" Elrond's gaze turns to the winged fae. "Saeril", he spoke in astonishment before stopping a few feet in front of the female. Maleficent kept her ground, but slightly bowed her head in respect. "Lord Elrond, call me Maleficent. I would much prefer it", she said to him in the Elvish language in a kind tone. She would much prefer "Maleficent" as her name since "Saeril" was her birth name. "Why do you come?", he spoke back to her in English again. He was clearly suspicious of her since he has heard stories and even witnessed her cause terror on other Elvish kingdoms.

[Assistant] "It is a long story, my friend." Gandalf spoke up to Elrond, quickly coming to Maleficent's defense. "One which we may not have the time for now. At least not at this very moment. We require your aid."

[User]
Narrowing his eyes at the female, he then notices to see Thorin stepping up. "Welcome Thorin, son of Thrain" "I do not believe we have met", the dwarf Prince gave a small growl under his voice. "You have your Grandfather's bearing. I knew Thror when he ruled under the mountain" "Indeed? He made no mention of you" Elrond suddenly says something to Thorin in Elvish. "What is he saying? Does he offer us insult?", Glion spoke with a little bit of anger within him. "No, Master Gloin, he's offering you food", Gandalf reassured him. That was until the dwarves turn and discuss amongst themselves. "Ah, Well. In that case, lead on"

Later that day, the dwarves all sat around the elves' dining table. Some complaining that the food wasn't of their taste and that they would prefer meat rather than "leaves". "Kind of you to invite us. I'm not really dressed for dinner", Gandalf spoke as he walked with Elrond to the table. "Well, you never are", they seat themselves at the head chair.

Changed into something lighter and more Elvish-like, Maleficent had on an elbow-length off-the-shoulder brown dress that fell to her ankles as she made herself appear at the walkway of the dining area where everyone else was at. There were no shoes on her, and she preferred to walk barefoot, letting the sun warm them. Her headdress was gone, so she let her hair flow free. Noticing what appears to be an elvish flute nearby. She delicately picked it up and lightly played a few notes until she was actually playing a song. It was a song she knew and learned as a child. Till then, she was with the other instrument playing Elves, having her eyes flicking to Kili time to time.

[Assistant]
"Change the tune why don't you?" complained Dori eventually as the dwarves began to get tired of the Elven music. "I feel like I'm at a funeral!"
"Can't say I fancy elf-maids myself," Kili was boasting to the other dwarves he sat with, which included his brother, Dwalin, Bofur and Dori. "That one over there's not bad though." the young dwarf grinned suggestively and nodded in the direction of the elf he had meant.
"That's not an elf-maid." Dwalin had smirked at him, and Kili's face turned bright pink as the elf turned around to reveal that, as Dwalin had predicted, it was not a female elf.
"Oh, very funny!" Kili grumbled, mortified with embarrassment.


[System]
Age: 27

Appearance I:

Personality: Zino is strong-willed and dutiful: working hard and staying focused on his goals. Highly determined, he strives to meet his obligations. His word is a promise, and a promise means everything. Zino would rather run himself into the ground with extra days and lost sleep than fail to deliver the results he said he would. He believes that order is accomplished best when everyone involved knows exactly what is going on and why. He rarely tolerates unclear guidelines and people who break established rules undermine this effort. Structure and rules foster dependability; chaos creates unforeseen setbacks and missed deadlines. His strong work ethic allows him to apply himself to a variety of situations, picking up and applying new data and grasping the details of challenging situations as a matter of course. Zino believes in brutal honesty at all costs. Emotional manipulation, mind games and reassuring lies all run counter to his preference for managing the reality of the situations he encounters with straightforward candor.

However, these traits can make him stubborn, insensitive, and judgmental. While not intentionally harsh, his love of factual decision-making and veracity can wound the emotions of those more sensitive. Zino is unlikely to respect people who disagree with those facts--especially those who remain willfully ignorant of them. He finds it difficult to accept that he was wrong about something, and struggles to admit any failure with grace. His strong desire to adhere to the rules makes him reluctant to bend those rules or try new things, even when the downside is minimal. All this can combine to make Zino Bertran believe he is the only one who can see tasks through reliably, which can lead him to believe the responsibility for the success of events is his alone to bear.

Occupation: Classified

History: Classified

Semblance Type: Enlightened

Semblance Appearance:
As simple white mask designed to cover the entire face.

Semblance Abilities: Chronomancy

* Temporal Administration - Allows for a single target to be made slower or faster in their actions, reflexes or abilities.
* Instantaneous Direction of Will - Teleports the user and those in contact with the user to any other place in visual range instantly.
* Dimensional Control - Creates a pocket-sized portal to private storage dimension.
* Manipulation of Permanence - Causes a single effect or ability to be permanent as long as Zino can maintain concentration.

Appearance II:

Fallen Information: Classified

[User]
Stormy

It was as though Stormy was trapped inside the head of another person, shrunk down and forced to watch the events transpire through the two shimmering windows that were eyes. Everything felt uncomfortably numb. She didn't dare look behind her, towards her subconscious, the dark recess of her mind, where the memory of what had happened was rebuilding itself, begging to be confronted. With abject, muted horror, she watched only ahead, at passing reality, realising how grave the situation was, but unable to force the body to act – no words or movement came when she willed it. She just looked at Zino, and the Brazen boy, with wide, glassy eyes. Their words were harsh and hurt.

The full extent of her injuries had escaped her notice, but as her brain raced to catch up with her heart, it sent far-off tingles down her spine and pulled a hole deep under her stomach.

Unable to move, the pain pulling only a singular whimper as her arm was reattached. She watched it stitch and thread together, like some grotesque loom – she was not sure she would have turned away if she could – it was morbidly fascinating, and equal parts awesome as it was terrifying. She knew it should hurt, but it was as though the pain were inflicted upon another person. All she felt was the twinge of empathy.

Turning slowly, she looked from her arm to Zino. She could see his lips moving, but the words were garbled and deafening.

After a pause, she heard her voice ask, "What?" She felt her lips quiver. The image of Zino became blurred.

Warm water trickled down her cheeks; silently she cried.

Shivers still plagued her body – it wasn't just that she felt cold; there was something more than that. She drew away from Zino, pulling both arms in close. One arm was now sleeveless, blood smeared and drying all along it. She lay on her back, and focussed on her breathing. In through the nose, out through the mouth. In. Out. In. Out.

The grass and ground were springy, the air had a steel edge to it, the smell of iron filled her nostrils, and her mouth tasted of copper. Stormy focussed on these things: reals things.

Still, she cried.

[Assistant]
Tristan watched the others, watched Tabitha approaching. Watched his weapon gleam in his hand. So elegant, he thought. It had been a good moment. Well-ordered. Koda had been dangerous, but newborn, and hunger had driven him to irrationality. When the others turned against him, they would be stronger, and killing them would require a progression of weaponry and armor, each outfitting grander than the last to ensure each death remained clean and perfect. He could burn them away without the mess and ruin of fire, he could -

Tristan watched the others, watched Tabitha approaching. The arm holding the gun dropped, letting it hang at its side. The rush from the silver fruit wasn't fading, but it wasn't intensifying any further. Everything was illuminated, collecting focus along lines and angles, and his thoughts felt precise, swift, powerful, snapping bolts of lightning between neural tissue and intricate circuits.

"When you sit to dine with power, take care to consider what's placed before you," he said. "And put a blade to your throat if you are called to gluttony. Do not desire those delicacies, for they are deceptive..."

More eyes slid to Tabitha. "Proverbs 23. I wonder what he believed," he said, gesturing to the space where he had been. "If it helped. If anything was -"

Whatever Tristan was now didn't seem to have the capacity for vomiting, so he just remained still and silent, keeping a biomechanical vigil. Listening to Tabitha, to the voices he could hear. Watching Anni cry, the cop and the killer face off over her. Stormy crying alone. Once again, the scene took on an arcane resonance. Something Biblical. And what am I, in this tableau? Answers flowed through his mind and he turned from them, turned to his companion.

"What's on my mind...?" I went insane. I can't control this. I need to control everything. I can't control that either. I know we're not really going home again, even if we get back to Lightsbridge. I know what I am now. I'm afraid. I'm so afraid. If you betray me, I'll be destroyed.

If you betray me, I'll destroy you.

He was silent for a moment, and then remembered to shake his head. "A man just died. One of us. The first of us...maybe not the last. Why did he die? Part of me doesn't even care. Her part," he said, the thought automatic, not knowing for sure who he meant. "But that's not all of me." Not yet. Not like Koda. Don't let me be like Koda. "What's on my mind is a man just died, a man who lived looking for answers. We still don't know anything, Tabitha. About anything."

Tristan turned to the tower, pointing with the barrel of the gun of killing light. "According to our architect, there's answers in there. So let's honor the dead," he said, raising his synthetic voice. "Let's go see the Magician of Irriss."

[User]
Zino Bertran exhaled slowly, deliberately. He rolled back to the heels of his feet and put his head in his hands. Now that the moment of danger was gone, the adrenaline left him. He left cold and distant; emotions bubbled in the back of his mind, threatening to break through. Instead, he just felt tired. The agent let the tension he in his shoulders out, unaware he had been carrying it. Zino's head pounded. 'Damn, I wish I had a cigarette…'

His brows furrowed. As he sat back, something brushed his hand. Mr. Bertan picked up his gun and slid it into the holster. He lingered longer on the mask and the security I.D. Silently, his mouth formed words but dared not utter them out loud. 'Bureau of Extramundane Research and Mitigation.' He picked up the slim card and looked at it.

It was plastic, encased in clear laminate and attached to a retractable string and clip. 'Department of Homeland Security' and 'Central Intelligence Agency' was printed in large letters across the top followed by 'B.E.R.M' in smaller text. Zino rubbed the I.D. between his thumb and forefinger. His own face stared back at him--young and smiling. He hardly looked like the same person. His finger traced over the name: Zino G. Bertran. The agent looked up to the spot where Koda had once stood. 'Could I have done that? Could I have killed him?'

Her lips moved, but he couldn't hear her speak. It was as if all of the sound and saturation had been sucked away. A young woman looked up at him with round, pleading eyes. She was bound to a table with leather straps securing her arms, legs, and head. Something in him softened, and he gave a sincere and reassuring smile. His hand touched her forearm. She smiled back.

Zino nodded, answering his own question.

'Remains remanded for testing.'

He clipped the identification badge to his shirt and tucked the mask away. His lips were drawn in a tight line, looking tired and grim. Bertran could hear her crying echo in his head. "Miss Stormy Jean," he leaned forward again and cupped her cheek, "You're probably going into shock. Listen, I--..." Zino stopped himself, frowning. She looked so vulnerable: tears pooled in her laugh-lines and streaked down her face; she had turned away from him, away from others; blood soaked her clothes and hair. Only her even breath gave him some hope for Stormy.

Her body had showed no signs of change. It had taken them weeks to find her remains, but they were pristine--warm, even. He looked over the notes from her autopsy, but there was no clear cause of death. They had succeeded, but at the cost of her life. Perhaps the strain of the journey was too great on her body, perhaps her unguided mind had simply snapped under whatever lay on the other side. He put his head on his desk and wept. Eventually, one of them would come back alive.

Mr. Bertran lifted Stormy off the ground. Her head rested against his shoulder, and his arms supported her under her back and knees. His face hardened as he turned to the rest of the group. Silvery eyes flicked over them, one by one. "Lives are at stake. Our lives, their lives... We can't waste any more time." He adjusted the woman in his arms but could not bring himself to ask for help. "We have to get to the Magician."


[System]
Age: 17

Appearance: At a height of 200cm tall and incredibly muscular, it is pretty common to see Tzi shirtless when not in academy uniform, baring his body to the world. Shirts aren't really too important to him, so one has to remind him every time he forgets to wear one. It's a source of contention, but it's almost impossible to change his opinion on them.

Bio/Summary: An energetic and forward youth from a barren archipelago in the North Sea, Tzi always enjoys a challenge, throwing himself head-first into any situation that strikes his fancy. It's the reason why he was so willing to simply leave his island home one day, jumping into the salty surf to swim to the mainland where opportunities abounded. There, he drifted from ring to ring, fighting anybody who'd take him on for fun and profit. Sometimes he won, sometimes he lost, but his grinning visage, one that never disappeared no matter what trouble fell in his path, was imprinted on the minds of recruiters for the Military Academy, and soon enough, his martial talents were requested for a greater cause: the protection of the glorious Imperium.

He didn't mind. For Tzi, the chance to fight in the name of the Empire only signified excitement and wonder. Never one to shy from an offer (also explaining his frighteningly immense knowledge about all sorts of foodstuffs and how to cook them), he was inducted as a student into Cadenza, where it was hoped that his devil-may-care attitude and unshakable adoration for a good fight could be better channelled.

So far he really likes the place, though people have been admonishing his tendency to throw caution (and his shirts) to the wind.

Vessel: When not active, Tzi's Retiarius actually consists of two items: a carving knife and carving fork lacking in decoration. They are typically used during meal times, but when called upon, the pair fuses and enlarges into a wicked trident, one with a small anchor attached to its rear, that instills fear into the hearts of seafood.

Abilities:
Casting the Net - a net made of heavy magical fibres is produced by the Retiarius, usually shooting out of the trident's length to catch and trap those unfortunate enough to be in its way (whether they be fish or Tzi's foes). Escaping is particularly difficult due to the toughness of the net and its weight.

Catch and Release - the rear end of the Retiarius is an anchor that can be launched at the environment and others to latch onto or wrap around them with a glowing chain, allowing for either rapid movement towards enemies or around the battlefield.

Backlash - if somebody is in contact with the Retiarius or caught in its nets, any damage that Tzi experiences will be distributed between him and them.

Equipment: A portable grill; diary.

Trivia/Other: He is very well-versed in the cooking world (much to anyone's surprise), but can be incredibly critical of other people's cooking. He might've even been considered connoisseur if his descriptions were more flowery. He does however, have a stubborn streak over spicy foods (he likes them, but really can't handle the spice).

[User]
Crispin Clean

Wet hacking sounds continues to sound out, the snow white suit now stained a deep crimson. Stomping his way on top of the Roc's corpse, Clean jammed his rapier between the avian vertebrae and twisted. A rough tearing and a cathartic crunching snap as the spine of the dead bird was brutally severed.

"I have a new least favourite creature." blade looking more red than normal, Clean whipped the rapier in an arc a thin red crescent as the blood was flung from the blade. Looking up he saw the group was more scattered than normal when after a battle. New objective, new goal. Scanning the area Clean was about to look for someone when the mind rending screech shredded through the air, feeling the reverberations in his chest. Noting the direction Clean ignored stealth in favor of speed, making haste to the location. Bursting onto the scene Clean skidded to a halt covering his mouth in disgust to the point where he didn't even notice he left a bloody hand print over his mouth.

"I didn't expect my least favourite creature to be one upped so soon." Disgusting, black like tar, looking heavy and dense. The sheer nature of the beast ignited a flame of rage within him. This monster was a blight on the world and needed to be eviscerated... annihilated.

Bipedal creature, top heavy with broad shoulders. Seemingly based on a gorilla in basic structure? Rear legs resemble a canine, so more like a lycanthrope than a gorilla. Expect high agility and wide range with the claws. Arm length is significant are sharp. Use a simple strategy until more information about the thing is learnt, hamstring to limit movement and keep out of range of the claws by either staying outside the attack range or so close no significant power can be put behind the blows. Other's aren't fellow cadets. They're a secondary priority to ridding the world of this filth. With the game plan in mind Clean circled around to the left of the beast and lunged for the hamstring, blade leading the way, not even sure if the pitch black mass contorted in a facsimile of life conformed to natural biology, but if he didn't even try then there would be no way for him to know.

[Assistant]
Egwene
Egwene's temper has soothened down after hacking down the guards one after another. Just when she was about to feel satisfied after returning the favour of capturing her without permission, the one guy who seemed to be a leader has summoned a wild beast who attacks Morgan. And judging the people it targets, it doesn't look so obeidient.

"Oh, I almost forgot, you're wounded right?" Egwene turned back to Foley, sheathing her sword. Now more capable of thinking rationally, She let the beast to be occupied with Zarin for the moment, and spoke to Foley gently. "I'm healing you, so close your eyes and don't dodge, or I will kill you~"

"YAY--" Egwene made one menacing draw of her sword, her Healing Blade as if let loose and screaming in excitement, as she sends a diagonal slash across Foley's torso. The way she swings the sword, and the sound effect of it, makes it look like she is more into killing him than healing.

[User]
---

When Leblanc looked so hostile at Regina, she was admittedly confused at first as she spoke very quietly when she did so. However, as more information came Regina realized that with the way she acted was as if an animal with a higher sense of hearing was alerted. After realizing this fact, the only face that the snake-woman would get would be a knowing smile. Regina thought about teasing her more, but did not want to push her luck. After all, she was confident in her abilities and the fact that they were far enough away from the patrols that there was no threat. However, the smile quickly dissipated as Regina became more serious and listened to the rest of what Leblanc said. "I'll take care of the sniper and their team." would be all that Regina would say before she went to do just that. She noted the RV point that Leblanc would have given her and moved toward the sniper's building, hidden from view though one could note if they observed her that she was skilled in the ways of stealth.

And take care of the sniper team she did. Though she had to wait for a few opportunities to take them down silently one at a time, she managed to eliminate the entire team. Four dead bodies lay in the building as Regina proceeded to the bigger building in the middle of the town: the place for the agreed RV point. It was then that she heard that awful scream. A scream that vibrated through her entire body and panicked the patrols that were left. Regina could barely cover her ears, with them now ringing due to the sound, but she knew where the scream came from. Ensuring that her rifle was ready, Regina already felt her feet running toward the building using her shoulder as a way to dampen the sound.

Arriving at the building, she soon realized that the situation was much more dire: a monster spawn was about and there were captive cadets. It was obvious from their uniforms, though Regina was very sure that when the cadets saw her she looked nothing like them with her camouflage Irregular militia uniform and camouflage cloak. One of the cadets was down, and the monster was just about to pounce on him. Regina once again made a snap decision just before Clean attacked to aim for the monster's knees and squeeze the trigger. The magic round hit it's target, but what was most important was that the thing was not aware of Regina. An explosion at the monster's bend of the right knee was proof of the deed. Whatever it was, it now knew she was there.

Of course, Regina was scared but she never let that fear get the best of her. The Roks were a reminder to not allow her fear to control her. Something her father taught her a long time ago. That monster was nothing compared to what the Irregulars faced on a daily basis, she just had to remember that! Still, fighting this thing directly would certainly mean death, especially in any confined areas. Calmly, she shouted to the now-freed cadets "Friendly, Imperial! Get your comrades and regroup with our snake-themed cadet! She will give your new orders!" Regina now prepared to fire again, hoping to cover them. She wondered what Szeren, Natus, and Leblanc were up to....

[Assistant]
Well. This is new.

As Morgan evaded the strike of the shadow-like monster currently trying to kill him, his thought strayed elsewhere. Whatever the creature was, it was capable of injuring him in his Ethereal form, something only vessels were capable of doing prior to this.

It's rather fast for its size. The regeneration's odd too, I doubt any natural being could be capable of self-healing at such a rate.

Stepping back, He reverted Arcanus to its standard form and ran for the ruined church.

Well, even if something like this has shown up, it should act as a decent gift for those guys who kidnapped us.

[User]
✠ G R A D O N G I L T W I T H ✠

⛨ Current Location: Village Ruins ⛨

"I like to think they're just lost soldiers trying to find their way in the ruins. Or maybe they're on a mission just like us," Gradon said in response to Tzi. He found a nice tree beside where his tent used to be before leaning against the hardened bark with crossed arms. "Of course, that's probably just wishful thinking. If word got out that the Princess is traveling with us…then she's probably their priority," he offered with a smile. He was confident in their own secrecy to where that wouldn't have been the case.

The cadets would have some lingering time to themselves before something truly horrendous would snap them out of their lulling states. A sound that pierced the winds and seemed to resonate from deep within the ruins. And yet it echoed with such hate and ferocity that it was enough to make Viola near jump out of her skin in terror. Gradon widened his own eyes and stared in the direction of the scout team's trail. Just what the hell was going on there?

"Princess Ires!" Gradon said when their leader seemingly passed out under mysterious circumstances. Was it the strain of that roar or something more? Whatever it was, Viola was thankfully by her side in seconds, lifting the unconscious girl up armor and all while looking to him for answers. "That doesn't sound like a human enemy. We need to move out and help our comrades out as fast as we can," he said, already looking for the rest around their camp.

"Tzi, Esther, rally up!" Gradon said, glaring slightly as he saw Clean dash without order to go and assist. While he had the right idea, blindly charging into the fray was licensed to get them all killed. "Everyone move out. We're heading to the ruins. Viola, stay in the back and keep the Princess out of danger," he said, already leading the way with a sprint.

[Assistant]
"Getting cash or just taking out a bigwig for the politics, huh?" offered the tall young man. "Yeah, there's loads that they could ..."

That bloodcurdling scream. An inhuman noise that sent pinpricks of lightning down his spine. Tzi Ti'amtum whipped his head around in the direction of the ruins, his one visible eye widening in shock and surprise upon hearing something so ... inhuman. Unnatural. A sound accompanied by terror and chaos, echoing through the ruins with a vigour he never would've thought possible. He'd heard a lot of screams before. The others probably had too. But that sound ... he couldn't describe it. He didn't know what could've been responsible for it. But ...

"That can't be natural," he had to say, his voice low. "No way that's natural."

Signing up with the Empire had promised some real queer stuff, but this ...

Tzi Ti'amtum had absolutely no idea what it was.

"Don't worry." The eyepatch-wearing youth grinned reassuringly Viola's way. "If there's a problem, we'll just have to punch it in the face, yeah?"

That wasn't usually the best plan. Tzi Ti'amtum was perfectly aware of that. But despite what he was saying, he was worried. There was something just ... super unnatural going on. You had to cut a bloke some slack for that. Like Viola, he didn't have any idea what was going on. But if it was some ... unnatural monster or something, then he couldn't really think of anything more right now than to punch it out. Or hit it in some other way. That was usually how they took out monsters.

"Just keep calm and we'll handle it," he continued with a shout, running after Gradon. "Make sure nobody gets the Princess, yeah?"

Current goal: follow Gradon. Goal after that: beat up whatever is responsible for this stuff. Protect his mates at the same time. It was a pretty basic and half-baked plan, but until he could get more info, that was the best he could do.

As they closed in on the ruins, however, the thing responsible became clear to his eyes.

"That's ... big."

Thrice his size, in fact.


[System]
Age
26

Appearance

Johnny stands six feet four inches tall and weighs roughly 160 pounds. A lightweight figure for a light-footed man. His head of hair is dark brown and his eyes are blue. His usual dress is a well-tailored navy blue pinstripe suit jacket over a stark white cuffed shirt, an equally navy blue tie tucked into a waistcoat of the same colour, dress slacks of that colour and honed leather tap dancing shoes. A fedora sits atop his head and he normally wears stark white dress gloves to go along with his formal dress.

Gender
Male

Genre/Tribe
Johnny hails from the tribe of the Swing people; collectively known as the Oldies of Oldtown, his tribe are one of the oldest in the whole of the land. The music they practice and play is also one of the oldest forms of music in the land, as attested to by their elders. Eons ago, Jazz, Swing and Blues were formed from the hearts and souls of the early Caesurans during their trials and tribulations of terraforming their unstable land into their homes. Their blood, sweat and tears distilled through their emotions and into their voices and song, and thus the Trifecta of Trials were born. Jazz, Swing and Blues make up this trio, and Johnny's tribe were the first of the Swingsters in Caesura. He is of their current generation, when the music has reached new levels of ingenuity and excellence yet they dream higher and greater, and he carries these hopes and dreams of his people with him.

Instrument/Weapon
His weapons are a pair of tap-dancing shoes that imbue both his legs and feet with great strength and speed as well as the raw power of sound. His kicks are able to break the speed of sound as a result, and any time he stamps his foot or feet he creates a shockwave that travels through the ground that dissipates over distance and time. His main fighting style is that of what you would know as tae kwon do, mixed with a healthy dose of good ol' fashioned tap dancing, swing dancing and other forms of footwork. The metal plates and braces on his shoes are also hardened and strengthed metals; lightweight and superbly sturdy under pressure of combat and dancing.

Though a peaceful people, when threatened by nature or other tribes, the Swingsters were forced to develop a fighting style wholly of their own; and since the basis of much of their music came from their hands, the style they developed was based entirely around the use of legs and feet.

Personality
Johnny is a very laid back and suave fellow, one you would see leaned up against a wall or a bar counter, drink in one hand, a woman in the other. He's smooth and slick, cunning and feisty, yet kind spirited and gentle to boot, in stark contrast to his fighting style. A ladies man all the way, he is the most gentlemanly to those of the fairer gender, going out of his way to make sure they receive the utmost respect that befits them. With other guys, he's very chummy, the bro amongst other bros, and you'll never see him without a smile on his face unless something's very, very wrong, because Johnny is also very optimistic and cheerful, something that's helepd him all through his life.

Bio
Being a current generation Swingster brings along its share of troubles, and for Johnny, nothing was more troubling than being the sole heir to their style of self defense. All Swingsters knew how to fight to defend themselves, that was true, but Johnathan Twostep was the upcoming heir to the title of Maestro of Swing, something that he didn't quite fancy. Sure, he was the best fighter they had, but he simply didn't want the high life. He enjoyed his time spent in the dives and bars of his home town, Basin, and the relevant dangers that posed to his health. He loved the adrenaline and the adventure of it all. Being the Maestro meant that he'd spend the rest of his days cooped up in some boring school, teaching all the young Swingsters how to fight and to defend themselves. Not a life for him. He left Basin a week before he was to inherit the mantle, and as such his whole town got into an uproar.

Now Johnny Twostep is a fugitive from his own people, hunted by many to be brought back to Basin for a hefty sum, and yet he doesn't mind, for he knows how to live life to its fullest, and he won't let something as trivial as a bounty stop him.

Other
* John enjoys good, genuine cuisine, and tolerates the food of the other cultures well enough.
* Even The Gods Need A Good Roadie

[User] The sun had just began to rise over the mystical realm of Caesura and a soft breeze danced across the land. Though every day in this land was undoubtedly awe-inspiring and magical in their own right, today was especially note worthy for the simple fact what would transpire on it. It was the day of Melody, the day every tribe of Caesura came together in celebration of the gods and music as a whole. The festivities of the day always started with the majorities of each tribe coming together and setting up the fair grounds which were miles upon miles of tents, stands that did everything from simply selling food to providing weapon repair or instrument tuning. The celebrators were filled with as much excitement as one would expect, foreign music and customs was always a way to capture someone's interest. But despite all the performances, food, and merry making what everyone was truly excited for was unmistakably the annual tournament. Every year the tribes would select their strongest warrior to compete in a contest known as the Battle Royale were they would be pitted against the warriors of other tribes, the battles were known to be quite heated though no one was allowed to be out right killed. The victor of the tournament would win renown for both themselves and their tribe along with the favor of their gods. This year's Battle Royale was making up to be quite the show, many tribes had brought with them their most promising young warriors to take part. Indeed this year's battle would truly become a legend.

[Assistant]
"Emilaena, I'm so proud of you."
"Aenura, I will make you even prouder once I win this title. I swear I shall do well."
"We know you will, Emilaena. And we will be rooting for you all the way."
Emilaena smiled at her elder, happy to be supported by the elder woman. However she had one more question to ask her.
"Aenura, I have one problem... How shall I defeat the others with only my harp? You said yourself that it is not a weapon for attack."
"Ah, I was hoping you would ask. And just in time, it seems that Leorina is coming with the Feorent."

Emilaena gasped as Leorina, another elder, walked up to the pair, reverently holding the Feorent in her hands. She presented the legendary weapon to Emilaena, which she took, shocked.

"Emilaena. Because you are to participate in this battle, you are permitted to use Feoranta's historic weapon. I trust you know it's history?"
"O-of course... The legendary violin... it's bow becomes one of the sharpest swords the tribe has ever seen... And I am to use it?"
"You have been trained in the art of combat, and we have found you worthy of wielding the Feorent. We hope you will use it wisely."
"Of course my elders. I thank you for this fantastic gift. I shall use it alongside my harp and do you proud in this battle."

Emilaena carefully placed the violin and bow into its case, a simple white case with delicately carved images along the lid. She put it over her back, next to her harp, using the strap.

"Now go enjoy the festival!"
"I will, Leorina."

[User]
Know I've done wrong,
Left your heart torn
Is that what devils do?

Johnathan took a rag to his shoes and gave them another wipe. He was already at the tournament's finals! His legs had carried him far, way further than he thought he'd go. He'd already fought past a particularly tough flamenco dancer and, before that, a metalhead whose power riffs had torn up the ground he had to tap on. Thankfully his feet, shoes and speed brought him through to the final stage: the all-important Battle Royale. The finals, where only the best of the best fought for supremacy, with the last man standing getting the title of Caesura's Champion and awarded with wealth and fame beyond compare. The money he could use, the fame and recognition though? Something he didn't want. Perhaps he'd concede it to someone else, maybe take the second place prize for himself. After all, he was only in this fight for the money.

Took you so low,
Where only fools go
I shook the angel in you

With rag still in hand, he ran the cloth over the toes of his shoes until they shone enough to reflect his entire face in them. He grinned and shook his head. These shoes, these were priceless. The top weapon of Basin's warriors, the shoes were only conferred upon the feet of the dancer whose moves topped the rest. And he'd been up there, only to find that life after that would've been stuffy and boring. That was enough reason for him to flee the city, taking the shoes with him and leaving his entire people on the verge of breakdown. True, they were hunting him with a fury unmatched anywhere else, but what did he care? He was living life! He was happy and free! These shoes were the icing on top a particularly delicious cake and he wasn't intent on sharing it with anyone.

Now I'm rising from the ground
Rising up to you

As if to prove a point, he straightened up and tensed his right leg. He was resting in the innards of the stadium grounds, past the arena where the fights had taken place, where no one would find him. He spotted a plank of wood resting innocuously against one of the many stone walls that the fairgrounds had been built upon and cocked his leg. With a practiced eye he took aim and, by reflex and training, his foot shot out faster than the eye could blink in a straight-heeled kick. The air cracked audibly around his foot as an invisible projectile shot straight towards the wood plank and shattered it into pieces, throwing chunks of stone out of the wall behind it. He grinned to himself. Only the best could throw a kick that also fired the air he kicked like a bullet. He still had it.

Filled with all the strength I found
There's nothing I can't do!

Johnny relaxed and drew a cigarette from the pocket of his slacks and lit it with a lighter. It was the resting time between fights, after all, and now that the upcoming fight was also the last one, he had more time to relax and limber up. He knew his opposition was strong; from another metalhead whose screaming vocals he'd heard from all the way across the fair, to an electronica musician whose lights and synths grew solid in the air, to even a violinist whose instrument manipulated the elements at her whim, this last fight was to be the toughest, grandest and most spectacular of the whole fair. It was a fight he was looking forward to.

Oh he'd kick ass. No doubt about it.


[System]
Real: Skadi Türkis
Race: Human
Gender: Female
Age: 19
Nationality: Atlesian
Color: #6ecff6
Emblem: A clipart of a brilliant cut diamond
Voice actor: Shirley Manson

Themes:
Main - Neutral - Happy - Angry - Sad - Semblance - Fighting - Victorious - Defeated
Appearance:

Diamond is a rather tall woman with a lean build, being 178 centimeters tall. She's only as strong as she needs to be, having developed a physique for slipping into tight spots and blending in with the crowd. The woman weighs around 62 kilos with slightly lower than average percentage of body fat.

The dominant feature of her face are her eyes, which are sky blue and have a turquoise glow to them due to her dust implant. Her hair is golden in color and cut short, styled into backwards facing spikes. As a northerner from Atlas, Diamond's skin is very pale.

The dust implanted in her caused a blue pattern to develop on her back and an overuse left a crystalline blue weblike pattern on her right arm. If she uses her ice spells, these along with her eyes glow blue, and her eyes flash into white when casting a kinetic spell.

She doesn't wear a battledress in the traditional sense, preferring not to be hindered by armor of any sort. With her semblance and dust implant she also prefers to leave her arms exposed, usually wearing a pair of sturdy boots, pants and a vest.

Diamond carries herself with pride most of the time and makes good use of nonverbal communication, having learned the meaning of various gestures and being able to use them to convey a different meaning from what she is actually saying. In combat she moves with the fluidity of a gymnast.

History:
During a particularly nasty winter, a child was born to an uncaring mother who barely had enough mercy to leave the girl on the doorstep of the first house far enough. As it so happened a rather poor elderly woman lived there and upon finding the crying newborn took her in. She gave the girl the name Diamond due to her blue eyes.
Unfortunately, five years later Diamond's adoptive mother died, leaving the girl to fend for herself on the streets. A crafty little thing, she quickly found out that instead of begging for the food, it was easier to simply take it when no one was looking.

Living in poverty, the girl has had enough after two more years. Growing stronger, nimbler and bolder, Diamond started rifling the pockets of unsuspecting passer-bys. It didn't take long for the gang whose territory she was on to threaten her into joining. Having nothing to lose and all to gain, Diamond was happy to accept.

In the next few years, Diamond slowly but steadily became great at her craft, rising through the gang's ranks nicely. It all came to an abrupt end however when another gang made a move on their territory. During the fight her semblance manifested and gave her the means of escaping the brawl without getting hurt. Afterwards, she went solo again.

After honing her skills for several more years and nearly getting caught a few times, Diamond made a reputation for herself in the underworld. Finally, she got contracted to pull an art heist for the first time. She started working as a hired gun, taking items of opportunity for herself along her jobs. For the next year, she lived quite the luxurious life and amassed significant wealth for her age.

Growing careless, Diamond got caught by an undercover cop while pickpocketing for change. Having nothing on her other than the pickpocketing, her sentence was just a year in juvenile detention.

Coming face to face with several less than pleasant experiences and generally starting to understand that when she barely survived a month of Atlesian Juvy, she would die in a lifetime in an Atlesian prison, Diamond started working her hide off to make something of herself, moving to Vale and paying herself a crash course to drastically improve her combat abilities.
A year later, she made it into Beacon.

Personality:
In one word, Diamond is a bitch. Sarcastic and cynical, she has nearly no moral blocks and will happily relieve you of money you didn't guard well enough just to show you she can. The concept of friendship is something new to her and it shows in her opinion on people swinging easily. Diamond can feed you complete garbage without losing a serious expression on her face. If you piss her off, prepare to suffer a thoroughly planned humiliation.

She might be a criminal, but she is a classy one. Violent crimes are a strict no-go unless something has gone horribly wrong. She quite enjoys the thrill of sneaking around and defeating various obstacles like motion sensors and locks. In her mind, every moron can rob a dust store at gunpoint, but it takes skill to do it in a way that makes the owner notice only a day afterwards.

Apparently she is not past redemption, because after Juvy, she decided to do something with herself and applied to be a huntress, even though her main reason is to hone her skills rather than to protect the people.

Skills:
* Combat
	+ Hand-to-hand: Average
	+ Short blades: Expert
	+ Long blades and polearms: Proficient
	+ Firearms: Lacking
	+ Dust: Beginner, talented
* Common
	+ Leading: She has what it takes to do well enough, but lacks self-confidence
	+ Lockpicking: Expert
	+ Hacking: Skilled with older systems, haven't kept up with recent advances
	+ Pickpocketing: Proficient
	+ Cooking: Wizard
	+ Drinking: Practice makes perfect

Powers:
* Inborn
	+ Shadowshifter - Diamond absorbs her shadow into her own being, gaining the ability to alter her own body much like the shadow before. She can turn any part of her body into a shadow form. In such a state, she is more resistant to physical damage, although her senses are somewhat dulled. The true ability is that Diamond can alter her shape within some bounds. Her shape has to remain humanoid in essence, but her limbs can stretch, sharpen or bulk up, for example she can grow talons or change her entire forearm into a blade. She can also turn flatten herself into a shadow to pass through small gaps like under the door.
* Acquired
	+ Ice dust implant - Diamond had Ice dust fused into her nervous system, giving her the ability to cast spells through her fantasy alone. This kind of dust allows her to create and manipulate ice. It comes with downsides though - too voluminous or quick casting will damage her nerves, or other tissues in later stages.
	+ Kinetic dust implant - Same as above, granting Diamond telekinetic abilities. Other than moving things with her mind she can also use this to project physical attacks over distance.

Relationships:
* Cobalt Chideta: "A passive lad. I don't mind him, but I also fail to notice he's in the room half of the time."
* Oswald Connoly: "Ugh! His attitude can be infuriating, especially when he's not much better than I am. It's in his eyes. He's seen - and done - some nasty things."
* Emerald Felicia: "Lovable goof, infuriating airhead. Just friends."
* Esther Vanhomrigh: "Just benefits."
* Träd Oak: "Smoking and drinking buddy. Quite possibly the only person in this school that I can stand without any reservations."
* Sapphire Rode: "Someone from an entirely different world than I. She has the right to her opinions. They're mostly wrong, of course, but hey."
* Kuhaku Shiro: "Infuriating klutz, comedic relief. Generally harmless and epically innocent."
* Skyra Dawn: "Very recent acquaintance. Dunno. Seems to follow the general feline faunus trend though."
* Amaranth Desire: "The reminder of the past I want to forget. Business, that's all it was."

Trivia:
* Diamond is left handed.
* She is afraid of deep waters.
* A quitting smoker.
* She likes red meat and high quality alcohol.

[User]
Ciel | Vale

"perhaps" Ciel said offhand she was unsure but it really seemed that he was either against her getting a haircut or just liked pushing his point at times. Either way she thought he did have a point in the fact that perhaps "special" hairclips could help her in this situation. "All things considered I suppose we should probably get going as soon as we finished eating" she said as she motioned towards the waiter bringing them their ordered dishes. "Ah thank you for agreeing to help me with my current errands" Ciel said.

[Assistant]
Jack Orpheus | Vale

"Hey no worries. Ever need any help, you can call me", they were on the same team after all. After they finished their meals, Jack led her to the place he was talking about, where you can get battle gear made or repaired.

"Ayyyyy, how's it going old man?", the store had all assortments of armour, some of which were familiar, since some students at Beacon wore it.

"Oh, it's you Jack, here's your coat back. Are you sure you don't want to put a new weave inside it? The material is sturdy, but really old, and wouldn't hold up against certain things... Also don't call me old man", the old man went out back for a moment before handing Jack his coat in a bag.

"I think I'll be fine... Speaking of which, my team mate here needs some new gear, can you do that?", Jack motioned over to Cian as he spoke.

"Of course I can, so what's your name? What kind of armor? What weapon do you use? Anything else?", he asked Cian rather quickly.

"One at a time old man",

"Don't call me old man",

"But yeah... So what'll it be Cian?", he turned back to her. She had options... Like a new outfit, or just her old outfit.

"Oh don't worry about costs too much by the way, if you're a student at Beacon you get a big discount. They pay for most of it", well there you have it.

[User]
After fungerations with Bleep Bloops that most people call people, Mokuren was on her way to see Skyra. She wouldn't dare admit to anyone that she actually got lost on the way there, because that would be evil and rude and not very nice. Because they would laugh, and she would stab them, and that was no way to go about getting friends.

But, still, The World Was Beautiful! Or so she exclaimed, without ever having that thought before, and quite possibly never having that thought again. The world was just The world, annd while something was nice, it wasn't exactly beautiful. What was beautiful, was this door. In front of her. She was Ostrich to the power of Emu sure that it was the right door, and even if it wasn't, knocking on it would only disturb a colony of butterflies on the other side of the world, and destroy a statute of the Dragon Reborn, erasing all possible evidence that he had ever been around from the world. So, with that kind of pressure, Mokuren knocked on the door that was Skyra's, or at least she hoped it was Skyra's.

[Assistant]
Without much movement Skyra burrowed her face into the book she was reading. It was quite interesting. The part she was just reading was an essay on why Faunus are nothing but animals and share nothing with humans.
Why you ask would Skyra, a professed Faunus rights movement partaker, read such a thing?

To be honest, she herself didn't know either, but she laughed heartily at the stupidity of the author, a Rudolph Nittler. The essay had the peculiar title "Mein Krampf", where he describes the brain cramps he supposedly got when touching a Faunus, trying to convince people that Faunus are poisonous or something like that.

Rather sudden, the door got knocked upon.

Skyra did a backflip off her bed to land just in front of the door and opened it to find the familiar face of the fox-girl she encountered earlier in the gym. The girl that disappeared when she went to the locker room to change.

"Uhm... hi? Hey, Moku. Why did you just... vanish earlier?"

[User]
Mokuren grinned at Skyra as she opened the door. It was nice to see that it wasn't the opening to the Deep Temple, where Cthulu Lay Sleeping. But, having such a thing in a school would be stupid. And the perfect place to hide it.
"Ohh, well, you said about being cheesy, then I started wondering about cheese, so I went to get you some cheese so you could also be cheesy. I can't stay, I do have things to do, but dropped by to give you this" she took of her backpack and handed it to Skyra, giving her many pieces of wrapped cheese, different shapes and flavours, all yummy.

"I hope you enjoy it. Staying is, unfortunately, not really in the books. I have to get.....some things, but maybe I will see you tommorow?" She asked, a soft ring in her tone that might have been hopeful if it was anyone but Mokuren. As it was Mokuren, however, the ring was just a ring.

[Assistant]
IC: Emerald

"I seeeeee...." Emerald mused, actually having no idea what any of those words meant either. Ah well, it didn't matter, she'd stopped caring what a 'hick' was at that point. "My bed is fine, it's a pretty sturdy piece of furniture." She couldn't say the same for the ceiling, but who cared if there was a few cracks in it? Right?

Emerald looked around the gym, with the fight between Gren and Ebon over, Emmy couldn't help but feel like she wanted to have a little fight of her own. She looked at Diamond...no she'd already had a match with Diamond in the arena the other day. She'd need to find a different opponent, that way she wouldn't know what tricks they had, and they won't know what tricks she had either. The problem was she didn't know who'd be a good candidate, she didn't know a lot of people yet.

But Diamond knew people! "Diamond! Who around here could I fight with!?" She pumped her fists. "I wanna beat someone up!"

[User] "My point exactly." Diamond chuckled when Emmy still had no idea about the meaning of the word. She'd have to get that girl reading to expand her vocabulary. As for her other inquiry though, Diamond frowned. She did suggest Emmy take PE class to fix her close range weakness, but that would take time. "Fair opponent? For you? Here? A sandbag. Everyyone else her would mop the floor with you until you buff up somewhat and learn some technique to boot. If you want a fair match, go look around the practice class. There'd be plenty of those during schooltime though. You sure you don't want to do something more relaxing?" the thief suggested.


[System]
Age: 32
Gender: Male
Nationality: Russian

Appearance:

Sasha is a very large, muscular man. He stands at six foot seven, has pale skin and dirty blonde hair that is kept in a neat buzz cut. His eyes are a gray-ish blue, and usually cold in appearance. They go just right with his perpetual frown. Sasha has several tattoos, one being the simplified bird seen in this picture. Another notable tattoos is a compass that points West on his left chest, and a line of words in Russian on his arm, opposite of the bird. The words are now difficult to read due to a scar from a knife wound that runs right through the middle of them.

They say you can tell a lot about a person by the scars they have, and Sasha's tell of a hard, painful life. There's a perfect line going down his lower abdomen, with dots on either side of it, left over from an emergency surgery he had to have to have bullets removed and organs repaired. On his arms, there are several slim, slightly raised scars from fights involving knives. There are an array of bald patches on his legs from where shrapnel from an road mine was removed with a pair of tweezers and rubbing alcohol. The most noticeable are the scars that cover a good portion of his back, slightly raised and faded from several laser surgeries to keep them from hindering his range of motion. They look like they were from some sort of chemical burn.

Other: Sasha speaks with a Russian accent. He speaks several European languages fluently, Russian and English being his best of course.

Skills: Your usual military training applies. He's proficient with most guns, but is particularly skilled at hand to hand combat. Has been known for one punch knock outs. He also has some experience in leadership.

History:

Sasha grew up in Kazan, Russia. His mother overdosed when Sasha was 5. He was left to be raised by his father, who fell into depression after the loss of his wife. His father wasn't the kindest, and often times was abusive. After Sasha's mother had died, he had essentially lost interest in being a father. He would often invite his loud and obnoxious friends over to watch soccer games, drink, and play poker while Sasha hid in his room and pretended not to exist. Sasha wanted to get out of the house as soon as he could, and joining the military seemed like the best option. However, Sasha had something of an authority issue when he was younger. His father's poor job of raising him had turned him into a rebellious punk.

After six years of service, Sasha slowly lost some of that punk kid attitude. He was eventually promoted to a second lieutenant and given his own, small platoon. They were deployed to Ukraine, where Sasha and his men were given orders that went against his own set of personal morals. When he refused to carry them out, he was threatened with everything in the book: treason, discharge, prison, the works. Instead, he just quit. Sasha and several of his men went AWOL. He picked up work as a mercenary, doing things that he knew he wouldn't lose sleep over. Most of the time, he does dirty work for various governments who didn't want to wait around and get things done the 'diplomatic' way.

Sasha was in the middle of a contract job in the Middle East when he disappeared. His men have no idea where he's gone, and they assumed that he was captured by the enemy somehow.

[User]
His eyes opened slowly. He wasn't sure what woke him up. In fact, he couldn't remember going to sleep. Sasha blinked and sat up, raising a hand to rub his hand. He felt...off. But he couldn't really describe it. Hungover, almost. A cool breeze picked up on the wind, running across his bare skin.

Where the hell were his clothes?

Sasha went from drowsy to full alert in mere seconds. This wasn't right. He was on his feet, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. He spun around to look at the greenery surrounding him, lush and vigorous. This definitely wasn't Afghanistan. The cool atmosphere almost reminded him of his homeland in the summer.

A soft snap of a nearby twig made him forget all about where he was. Someone, or something, was stalking him. Sasha looked around quickly, his eyes landing on a sturdy looking branch laying on the ground. He snatched it up and gave it a good wack on the dirt, testing it's strength.

"Come on," He growled, glaring towards the direction of the sound. Another soft rustle of greenery. Whoever or whatever it was, Sasha was stronger and meaner. He was sure of it. The beast tore out of the brush with a hungry roar, not happy that it's potential dinner was challenging it.

CRACK.

The club hitting the creature's skull sounded like a home run. The animal was thrown to the ground by the force, and Sasha didn't give it a chance to get back up. He yelled as he descended on it, bashing it's head in until it was unrecognizable. When he was satisfied that the beast was dead, he paused to actually see what he had killed. This...didn't look like any kind of animal he'd ever seen. Sasha was no zoologist, but he was pretty well traveled. This didn't even look like a creature of Earth. Which begged the question...

"Where the hell am I?"

Sasha's eyes scanned the ground, pausing on the strange markings that had surrounded him. They lingered there for a moment before he silently turned and picked a direction to storm off in. There had to be a town or something nearby; nobody could drag him out too far without leaving a trail. He began to shove his way through the forest, pushing leaves and branches out of his way. Small scratches began to appear on his body, and his pale feet began to prickle as small sticks and rocks jabbed them.

He came to a screeching hault when he came upon a clearing, several other people there. They all appeared to be in a similar predicament. Sasha's brain, trained by war and years of fighting, immediately began to evaluate them. Were they friend or foe? His hand instinctively tightened around the bloodied club he held.

[Assistant]
Ysran's eyes bolted open. Something was wrong. The once warm air of his room was gone, replaced by a cold breeze. Rushing to his feet, Ysran looked around him. There was a circle around him, covered in strange runes. This almost looks like something he would do. He tried to remember what had transpired the night before, but he remembered nothing strange. Looking around, he discovered he was in a dense forest, with trees going endlessly in every direction.

Inspecting the runes closer, Ysran recognized one of the runes, but he wasn't quite sure what it meant. Reaching for his pack, he suddenly realized he didn't have it. And inspecting himself closer, he didn't have his clothes either! What had transpired here? He was used to strange things, but this definitely topped the charts.

Deciding there was nothing better to do, Ysran began to wander in a direction. Shortly after wandering, he saw a few people standing together, naked, much like him. Hiding behind a tree Ysran tried to listen in on the conversations, but couldn't make out any clear words. Attempting to step forward, Ysran stopped dead in his tracks, for there was a man holding a bloody stick not ten feet away, also naked.

Quickly hiding behind another tree, Ysran whispered to the man: "Do you speak English? I'm at a bit of a loss as to what's going on here."

[User]
Sasha's breath hitched when he heard a voice behind him. He spun, unconsciously raising his weapon towards the potential threat. His steel blue eyes scanned the woods around him, finally fixing on a man who was halfway hidden behind a tree, also naked and confused.

He lowered his stick. This man probably had nothing to do with why he was here, and he was empty handed. Not an immediate threat.

"Who the hell are you?" He asked, his accent noticable, but not too thick as to garble his words.

[Assistant]
"My name is Ysran. I likely arrived I'm the same fashion you did. Big circle? Strange runes? I believe we can increase our chances of survival by working together. I'm not the strongest physically, but mentally, I can be quite fearsome."

Ysran stepped out from behind the tree, seeing as this man meant no harm.

"Besides, I'm more than meets the eye. What do you say? Shall we tackle this together? We might want to start with the group out there." He said, pointing at the small group in the clearing.

[User]
Two more survivors arrived with my cluster of people. Two men, the two near me were young women.

I was difficult to ignore their nakedness as time continued to flow by, my eyes started to wander over their bodies, but I steeled myself.
If I had a reaction towards their appeal right now I would have no way to hide it, instead I focused on the two new arrivals. The more physically apt of the two bore a bloody club, his eyes were not wild and he bore not hostility or paranoia towards the male that surprised him meaning that the blood was not from another person. If he had killed another he would be more cautious and probably would have already attacked the skinnier male.

I looked up, through the leaves I could see the general position of the sun, it was around midday.

Without worry that these individuals would attack me I decided to start walking towards the males passing by the two females.

[Assistant]
Sasha did not look overly impressed with the younger man. He talked a lot, and Sasha was never drawn to a chatter box. However, he wasn't looking to make enemies here.

His eyes shifted to the other man that approached them. Sasha nodded to the new arrival. "It doesn't look like we have a choice," he said, responding to Ysran. He then spoke to the other guy.

"Are they okay?" He asked, nodding towards the women. He wasn't too terribly distracted by them to be honest. It wasn't like they had anything he hadn't seen before. And right now, sex was the last thing on his mind. They had much, much bigger problems to worry about here. For one, where were they and who put them here?

[User] As Sasha began talking to the man who approached them, Ysran wandered throughout the group of people, some were still asleep on the ground, or at least, he hoped they were asleep. It was dead silent, with the exception of Sasha and the man who had approached him. Ysran, tried to talk to some of the others, but very few of them actually said anything. Many were most likely to embarrassed to talk, and the ones that did couldn't make heads or tails of what was going on. Wandering back to Sasha, he gave him a quick horizontal head shake, followed by a thumb pointed at the group. They knew nothing.

[Assistant]
"I'm Fine," I replied then nodded towards the club in his hand. "What did you kill?"

Bria and Susan were still gathering themselves.

"If its edible we should harvest what we can from it," I pointed out. "There isn't any other source of food here. We should find a river after peeling your kill."

[User]
"A...thing that tried to attack me," Sasha said, not quite sure how to discribe the animal. It was like a big lizard cat. Nothing like he'd ever seen before. Even still, being the realist he was, he had a hard time believing that they had wound up on the script of some scifi movie. Perhaps they were on some obscure island or something. Still, the man had a point. They had no supplies and no way of knowing when they were getting home. If they were getting home...

"It's about a quarter mile that way," Sasha nodded in the direction behind him. "We should stick together in groups; there could be more."

He glanced back at the group of people still recovering. There was enough of them that they would probably be okay together if the three of them left for a bit.

[Assistant]
"If we're going back, we should probably arm ourselves. Whatever you killed may have friends.

Upon saying this, Ysran looked around for a stick of some kind. Finding one that seemed an appropriate size, he picked it up and knocked it against a tree a few times. The stick sounded dense and solid. It would have to do.

Alright then, lead the way!

[User] I prompted the two other girls to come along, they did not resist when I grabbed their hands and led the up to follow the man with the bloodied club.

[Assistant] [REDACTED]

[User]
Sasha was silent for most of the short trip back to the clearing he had found himself in. The beast was still there, just as he'd left it. A pool of blood had formed around it's head, and it's leathery skin was flecked with red. Sasha picked the creature up and hauled it onto one shoulder, carrying it like a limp sack of potatoes.

"We'll clean it when we get to water," He said. It only made sense. There no use making of mess of themselves here, and they had no tools to work with anyway. Sasha's plan was to find water, and find the type of smooth rocks that water usually formed. Perhaps they could shape a crude knife to skin and carve the beast with.

Blood slowly dripped down his bare skin from the creature's mashed skull, but Sasha didn't seem to pay it any mind. With his line of work came a very strong stomach; it took quite a bit to make him queasy.

The group then set off again in search of water. As they walked, Sasha noticed a path of pushed down grass that appeared to be made by a herd of some sort. He suggested they follow it. Herd animals would know which vegetation was edible, and their trail would likely lead to water eventually.

He took a mental note of which grasses were eaten down along the path, and which plants were left alone. And, as he had thought, the trail led them to a large lake. It wasn't the moving water he had hoped for, but there was sure to be a stream leading off the main body somewhere. This would do for now, and since the sun was starting to get low, they didn't really have time to be picky.

Sasha flopped the animal down onto the ground and decided to take charge. He pointed to Ysran. "You, go find some smooth rocks and some rigid rocks and bring them back here. Grind them down on the smooth rock until you have a sharp edge."

He then looked to the other man. "And you. I saw a few trees on the path that looked like they had fruit left higher up in the branches. The fruits on the low branches are gone because the animals ate them, which means we can most likely eat them. Go gather some up and be careful not to wander too far."

When he was done barking orders at the strangers as if they were his old platoon, Sasha brought himself over to the water to wash the blood from his skin. While the others did their assigned tasks, he would work on collecting dry wood from the banks and hopefully get a fire going before night fell.