[System]
Pokemon*: Lugia

Gender: Male

Age: 25

Hometown: Olivine City, Johto

Level**: 31

Ability: Pressure

Moves***:
Weather Ball
Rain Dance
Dragon Rush
Extra Sensory
Ice Beam (TM)
Gust

Legendary powers: Lucas's mantle as Beast of the Sea bequethes him with a few blessings; the ability to walk on water as though it were solid land, to withstand the pressure of the ocean depths, and to hold his breath for hours on end beneath the waves. At all times he is aware of the general direction of the Avatars of Moltress, Articuno, and Zapados, and a general idea of their state of wellbeing.

Held item****: Shell Bell

Appearance: Since his merge with Lugia, Lucas his tried to mimic his predecessor, whether out of respect or wholly believing himself to be the legitimate item, wearing clothing that greatly let him resemble the Beast of the Sea. His once brown hair has turned ivory and grown to an almost femine length, though Lucas seems to not notice or care.

Personality:

"No man, nor Arceus himself, can tell you what you should do. Only what you can do."

 Lucas is peaceful, disciplined, kind, yet somewhat detached from the day to day of regular life. As an Avatar, he seems to take his new abilities and gifts with a significant grain of salt and seems to wholly believe he must step into the role of who he is now, rather than who he was. With Lugia came its wisdom, which Lucas will disperse with quiet serenity. He remains the last person to judge until one's decisions put others at stake, and emphasises on giving humans choices, for good or ill, rather than outright their problems.

Lucas will often try to solve his own problems with words first, and powers a distant second, typically resorting to violence only as a last resort. With his fellow legendaries, he takes a more firm hand and often acts as the "the older brother who will nudge you back into place if you act up and tell you to knock it off," though he offers the same quiet serenity and ear to them as he would any other.

One quirk that sets the legendary apart is the quiet, whispered conversation he haves with himself at times, especially during stressful situations. The avatar barely seems to be aware that he himself is doing, and it always seems as though one side of the conversation is left out.

GM SECRET Personality:

Is a secret!

Backstory:

"We each have a story. Yours is yours, mine is mine. Every author thinks himself the greatest, but that doesn't make him any less important."

Born and raised in the coastal town of Olivine City, Lucas and his family were fishermen and lived on a boat in the marina. Much of his childhood was spent playing with his siblings on the docks of the city and out at sea with his father, searching for the day's catch.
The boy never showed any real interest in becoming a pokemon anything. While he and his family used them in their buisiness, Lucas never partook or even desired to own a pokemon of his own. His passions thrived more in sailing and diving, and the boy seemed more content miles from the shore than he did with his feet on land. It was expected by all that he and his younger brothers would take over their father's enterprise and grow into a fishing empire. The Power Plague did little to hurt their buisiness, and all seemed as it would return to normal.
Lucas quietly vanished from his home one storm night, and has never been seen since.

GM SECRET Backstory: Is a secret!

[User]
Drops of Rebeca's infernal concoction splattered on everyone nearby, including one particularly devilish drop in the mayor's mouth. The man's entire face watered as he grunted in pain. He tried to drown out the heat, but alcohol hardly did anything except fuel the flames. The mayor was a trooper and did his best to stay focused on the situation at hand through his tears, but he would be practically out of commission for a while.

Justine stood up when her Pokemon was violently tossed through the front door. The thin woman glanced back and forth between Porygon-Z and Lucas. Though the expression on her face remained neutral, a red flush began to appear.

Porgon-Z rolled out of Rebeca's meal. The virtual Pokemon could feel no pain from the peppers nor the beating it had received, but its sensors detected a potentially dangerous substance in the meal that prompted it to move away. Porygon-Z lay on its back and stared up at the ceiling for several seconds.

"Intru---! --truder!" the Pokemon announced, static drowning out some of its speech. "---tile un----orized person--- in --- vi---ity." After its warning, Porygon-Z seemed content to chill right there on the table.

Ms. Huang took a step out from the table, standing stick straight with her chin slightly raised. She looked around at all the avatars and gave Lucas an especially long, stony gaze. Finally, she spoke. Frigid, subtle, and dangerous, like the voice of frost.

"I don't know your definition of 'peace'," Justine began, addressing Lucas. "But here in Mauville City, that word does not include attacking guards or destroying doors." Now, the woman turned slightly to address the whole table. "Neither does it include theft, threats, or street brawls. I understand that all of you have been blessed with powers beyond my comprehension. However much or little your respective Pokemon dominates your being, I recognize that some part of you is accustomed to ruling something."

"However," the CEO continued, "you are not in charge of Mauville City. That job belongs to the Mayor..." At this, Justine gestured toward the portly man, whose face had started to fade from beet red to fire truck red. "...And, to a lesser extent, myself. We and our predecessors worked hard to build up this city, and if it gets destroyed, we mere humans can't simply poof it back together."

Ms. Huang frowned as her voice raised slightly in volume and pitch.

"This festival was meant to welcome and celebrate the avatars. But we have the right and authority to ban anyone who threatens public safety. If you cannot use your powers for constructive purposes, I ask you to leave this festival-- and this city-- before we must resort to criminal charges."

[Assistant]
A small noise could be heard outside, followed by the sudden appearance of the Porygon-Z from earlier, who came sailing through the door accompanied by shards of glass and wood. The Pokemon bounced several times on the table, settling in Rebeca's food, for which everyone at the table flinched. Landing in that pool of burning hell must have been painful, at least if the Porygon's eyes worked like ours. Tantalus was unclear on this matter.

A man stood in the newly formed hole, definitely an Avatar. Tantalus stood, taken aback by the utter chaos which had just erupted. A cold fury gripped him tightly, so much so he found it hard to breathe. The woman who arrived first, Tantalus noting he could no longer call her an intruder, followed by the man who had arrived shortly after and now this stranger who seems to believe that throwing Pokemon through doors is the best way to make an entrance. To make matters worse not a single one had actually introduced themselves properly. What kind of zoo did these animals escape from? Tantalus screamed mentally, directed at Apate, who jumped as she heard the bubbling rage seething out of him, being nervous anyway. His hand gripped the scepter tightly enough to draw blood as it slowly trickled down the length of the shaft.

Afterwards, Hope spilled forth yet more nonsense before wishing Lugia the best, and vanishing in the night… Tantalus gazed down at the scepter still in his hand, and waited. It didn't vanish, and a few drops of blood splashed to the floor.

As Justine spoke to the offender, making her stance on the matter crystal clear - somewhat like the glass littering Tantalus's dinner - the rage with him shattered, replaced by a hollow indignation. He gave a small sigh.

An icy glare was directed briefly towards the source of the most carnage, before he turned his attention to Porygon-Z. It didn't look like the Pokemon would be injured badly, if at all, but Tantalus saw a way to salvage some of his bruised reputation. Walking around the table a little more forcefully than intended, he approached Rebeca's plate. "Our host makes a perfectly eloquent argument. There is no civilized society in this world that acts with such reckless abandon as you have shown here." Tantalus proclaimed, bitterly. "Something tells me that the food might get a tad cold due to the gaping hole now present, no? Forgive me, Rebeca." Reaching down, he plucked Porygon out of the food, and cradled it within his arms, the scepter pointed out of the way.

"Fret not, little one. if you are in pain, I shall remedy that." As he spoke, Tantalus began to glow softly, light dancing around him in a myriad of colours. It began to diffract through the spikes on his shoulders, which in turn began to shimmer. He place a hand, softly, on the top of Porygon's head, just below the spike. Turning to Kaze, he smiled at the boy, before the light began to ebb. Walking around the table, he place Porygon down next to Justine.

Tantalus stood straight, speaking to those at the table. "However, I am aware that my prior outburst may have come across a little more harsh than anticipated. My wish is to learn more about those like me, something I have developed a deep interest in, although my enthusiasm has been known to be a tad...  strong at times."

Looking down, he twirled the scepter Hope had left behind. "So I would ask that any further conversations can be continued civility between us Avatars as equals, rather than the squabbling children some of us, myself included, have acted like tonight. I apologize if I have caused offense in anyway."

Offering an apology bruised his ego, but it was a hit he could take under the circumstances. It had been a brute force approach, and showing one's cards too early during a game of poker was never wise. The same could be said for the politics of the world at large. A game Tantalus played often, and one he always aspired to win.

"That being said, I'm starting to doubt whether or not that woman was actually an Avatar and not just a very talented street performer. I thought psychics were able to read minds? That one couldn't even listen. A word of advice to anyone who wishes to hear it, when calling out a weakness in someone, it saturates the point to run away afterwards." Tantalus offered a strained laugh. Dealing with people on this scale was exhausting. He returned to sit with his Mawile, handing her the shiny, hard-earned prize, and see what everyone else planned to do.

[User]
Lucas blinked in surprise at the woman's sensibility, though he bit the inside of his cheek. From the sounds of it, his little entrance had only been the cherry on top to a rather eventful night leading up to this. He could have only hoped that he had not made things irrevocably worse.

"In truth, I have taken vows of pacifism," the avatar of Lugia said, as he bowed his head in apology. "And profess my claim to acting in self-defense. While I cannot say this... pokemon," here Lucas nodded at the Porygon Z, who had either fainted or found the cracks in the ceiling most enlightening, "Did not warn me, neither could I willful abide its requests to attack it unless provoked. And should I have followed through... well..."

Here Lucas glanced back at the rubble he had stepped through. "There would have been considerably less of a venue," he said, idly rubbing his throat where the Psybeam had neared. "While I apologize for the mess, my regret does not extend towards my actions. Any Pokemon or person who would attack me or mine, especially attempting to take my head off, would find similar response... though I may have misjudged its endurance. But I would not be so easily deterred, not after my journey."

Lucas took a deep breath, taking a long look at each of the Avatars in turn before his gaze rested upon the host of this lavish affair.

"In the beginning, Arceus ordained Lugia... myself, as the mediator of his brethren. It was for that reason why I have traveled this far, to prevent that which you fear," Lucas declared returned Justine Huang's even stare. "I have come to ask that the Interregional Avatar Festival be discontinued, or at the very least, that all the Legends gathered here be expunged from the city and return to their places of origin."


[System]
Lothair Lucius Attolis

Imagine this but more pale and without the beard. Maybe a bit more gaunt/skinny?
SEX: Male
AGE: 22 - Youth
HOMELAND: New Aldonia
BACKGROUND: Noble
TRAITS:

Lucky - Perhaps the fact that Lothair was generally born with no genetic issues and deformities, he's rather lucky for a Aldonian nobleman ... at least when it comes to genetics.

Intelligent - As the most promising heir, Lothair was afforded some of the best education that could be afforded by an Aldonian Noble House.

Tough - Expected to lead men in combat, Lothair had to go through some rigorous training that make him understand what true fatigue and pain are.

FLAWS:

Bounty - Lothair's family is undoubtedly paying handsomely for his capture and return.

PROFICIENCIES: 12 pts (Youth) + 3 Weapon pts (Noble)

Non Combat: 8 pts

Diplomacy: II (3 pts)
Linguistics: I (1 pt)
History: I (1 pt)
Repair: I (1 pt)
Animal Handling: I (1 pt)
Theology: I (1 pt)

Combat: 7 pts

Shield: II (3 pts)
Polearm: I (1 pt)
Sword: I (1 pt)
Command: I (1 pt)
Tactics: I (1 pt)

PERSONALITY: Lothair is a relatively laid back man who tends to make jokes and try to get along with people. Afterall, why try to make life any worse or stressful than it is? However, when he's silent and cold... that's when people should be worried as it means that he's thinking and or focused on something very important, typically a matter of life or death. Thus, it's pretty easy to tell when he's in a good mood as he's a lot more talkative. Otherwise, when he's worried or concerned, he starts to clam up and speak curtly as he's focused on the matter at hand, thinking, planning, and at times brooding with all his mental facility.

When it comes to more private matters, he is also rather distant and doesn't talk about much in regards to his family and his faith, instead he tends to give short answers and change the topic. However, he has extremely mixed feelings in regards to both his family and his faith and a lot of his reluctance to speak on those matters is because he hasn't formed a solid opinion on them. He believes that giving word to thoughts makes your thoughts take a final stance as he has seen in many negotiations where one stray thought often turns into a hill to die upon. Thus, to avoid that hazard, he doesn't speak much on private matters.

PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION: A 5'8" tall male who is rather pale, although not as pale as most other noble Aldonians, Lothair has a rather impressive and fortunate build for an Aldonian as he has no notable physical disabilities or quirks other than the usual trademarks such as his pale skin, his ashen, white hair, and pale blue eyes. One would see however, that his arm and torso bears several scars that he had obtained from training with weapons in the past.

EQUIPMENT: Lothair's most prized possession is his trusted rouncey, Ventus, who has been with him since Lothair started his journey. With Ventus, Lothair is able to bring with him his pack, which contains general supplies (rations, water, maintenance stuff), his bedroll, and a signet of his family. Ventus also has a saddle on him with stirrups. Lothair's clothing is rather simple with a linen shirt and pants and a gambeson over it all. He also has a small pouch of coins tied to his belt. His armor is rather piecemeal, preferring mobility as he travels often. He has a burgonet helmet, a cuirass, gauntlets, and tassets to protect his upper legs. He also carries with him a heater shield, a long sword as a backup and a lance.

HISTORY: Lothair was the 2nd son born into a cadet branch of the New Aldonian royalty. Thus, his family took particular care of preserving the bloodline with both of Lothair's parents being relatives of the King. Lothair's elder brother is a sickly person who barely survived his youth. Thus, when Lothair was born, his family was elated as they suspected that his elder brother was infertile or sterile. They had succeeded in securing the family line, and heavily invested in Lothair's growth and education as he was the pride of the family. He had the best teachers available teaching him, everything from riding and swordsmanship to poetry and courtly matters. In fact, they had even secured him a position as the officer in charge of an Aldonian Royal Honor Guard so that he could be seen in public view, side by side, with the Royal Family among the Royal Guard.

All seemed to be going well for House Attolis, but they never thought that Lothair would end up being so naive and falling in love. Ever since he was a child, he had always been close to a servant girl who would end up taking care of him after his lessons. Tending to his wounds from sword practice to always making sure that his cup was full during the middle of the night as he recited ancient Aldonian epics. They would find themselves often talking and sharing a laugh. His parents didn't really mind at first since they believed that Lothair was smart enough to not get involved. However, when his parents began to arrange a marriage for him to his 2nd cousin, Lothair objected... and it was rather obvious why. So, one day, she disappeared, apparently for stealing a ring from his mother. The penalty for which was the loss of a finger and exile. The way he found out was through a small package left in his room that contained a finger. He lost the contents of his stomach that day and couldn't eat for a week.

Lothair felt betrayed. All that he had done, the duty, and the work... and yet he was not allowed to choose his own partner? The one who helped him at every step in his journey? After taking the time to think, Lothair made the decision to leave and travel. Hoping that perhaps, he would find her. However, he still felt burdened to his family. This conflict in his heart and mind was resolved with Lothair's decision to join a mercenary group and bring prestige to his family through the field of battle. He would join a company for a short while and proudly wear the colors of his house before he left and continued on his journey. It would bring him coin to continue as well and make sure that he had some resources. Thus, for 3 years, Lothair has traveled and taken part in a few battles. Although, often times he was hired due to the fact that he was obviously a High Aldonian, and the company sought to use him as a status symbol. Thus, many times, he simply paraded himself in the battlefield, making allies think that they had help from the elite warriors of Old Aldonia while striking fear in the hearts of the enemy. But, regardless, he would leave soon after with his pay.

Edits: Removed the traumatized trait. Also added a bit more to the physical description. Changed the name to make it conform to a more Roman/latin style naming system.

[User]
Riley and Lothair were able to stalk the stranger for a while as he left the inn and went out the door, the young lord and the mercenary girl watching him from a safe and careful distance. It was not a difficult task to keep pace with him. He seemed to be moving at a steady pace, unaware of those following him, walking like a man on his way to work, making his way deeper into the poor residential district they were in.

The pair noticed a few more gazes settling on them as they went into the narrow and winding corridors of the slums. While relatively empty (thankfully), it seemed as if those still walking the street were against the two youths. Their faces wore a myriad of expressions, and their stances were reserved or defensive. It was odd. Were they all part of some plot? Was-

"Oi, oi!" called out a drunken man in his forties, snorting a little as the pair passed. "D'you buttercups got room for a third? Three men's better in bed than one, innit?"

Oh. That was why they were getting odd looks. Riley was a boyish girl.

The outburst from the sot was enough to make the pair's quarry turn his head. His eyes went wide, and he immediately went into panic mode, grabbing the nearest things his hands could find: pottery, empty crates, and an unattended lantern. He quickly threw all this these onto the ground behind him in a flash of motion, smashing them upon the rough cobblestone and bolting down into the twisting paths of the slums.

The pair had time to catch up, though the man definitely wasn't going to make it easy. However, that moment was when someone threw the door adjacent to the broken stuff open, and out stepped an alarmed and angry looking man with a spiked club.

"You rat bastards!" he snarled. "You breakin' my shit, are ya?" He hefted his club up menacingly.

Lothair felt pretty sure he could talk the angry peasant down, though it would take a moment. Otherwise, given how angry he seems... It seemed entirely likely that the hunt for his stalker could end with them being chased in turn by this furious commoner.

Riley noticed a glint of steel from beneath the otherwise impoverished looking fellow's old cloak. He was armed, though she couldn't be sure with what.

---

As it was night still, the open market itself had wound down already. However, there were a few shops which would be open still. With any luck, there'd be a jeweler open, or at least a pawnbroker. Someone would be available to gauge the value of their gemstones at the least.

Of course, anyone up at so late an hour was certain to either be wary of their customers or to be untrustworthy themselves.

As luck would have it, there was a shop with a sign of a statuette, some coins, and some gems painted onto it. The building's windows windows were lit by candles. The words "Ghilas' Appraisals" were written in colorful font over the entryway. It was a small building, but it was well-maintained and well decorated.

Boran was familiar with places like these. His father used to run a few less legitimate pawnbrokers and appraisers, selling illegally procured wares through them. By the looks of the place, this particular company leaned more toward the respectable side... which meant that the man running the place, Ghilas, probably had hired help.

Each of the windows is lit by precisely two candles: one red and one blue, representative of the sun and the benevolent moon. In Westerling folklore, this is a means of warding off evil spirits. Has evil befallen this place recently?

[Assistant]
Flint paused, looking at the candles. That wasn't a common sight. The only thing was, was this before or after some kind of misfortune? His hackles on end, he walked in, briefly taking note of the bell above the door.

"Hello?" he called, glancing around at the room.

[User]
After stepping outside and hearing Flint's words of acknowledgement, Boran gestured for him to lead the way.

The pair walked in silence, and Boran in particular seemed to be lost in thought, though he kept an eye out for anything suspicious. A city this size never truly slept and there were unpredictable wanderers on every corner. As they were nearing the market district, Boran grabbed a piece of paper and a sharp stick of charcoal from his coat pocket and started scribbling words on it. He darted off towards an inconspicuous, plain looking building just at the edge of the market, slipped the note through a slit in the door and was back with Flint in seconds. Before the latter could inquire, Boran explained: "Just made a little order."

The jewelers place seemed decent enough. After all, anything less than decent would have likely been unable to process the kind of exchange the party was in need of. Nevertheless, Boran kept himself in high alert when Flint went in in search of the owner.

[Assistant]
"Hello?" Flint called. There wasn't an immediate response, though the sound of wood scraping against wood could be heard. A quick look about the place showed it was comfortable and well-decorated, if a bit small. There were shelves standing n the floor, displaying an array of objects both strange and mundane. It appeared to be some sort of second hand store, but a fine one. Most of the goods were of the more expensive variety, such as fine clothes, antique furniture, lockets, jewelry boxes, exotic cloth from the east, old tomes, bones from long-deceased monsters... Everything was well-polished, small lanterns lit the room, and it was arrayed in such a way that everything was fetching to the eye. It wasn't humble, no; it was someone taking the best advantage of the small space they had offered to them. The door that led to the back of the building was ajar.

It became clear after a moment that someone was watching them. Boran noticed first, then Flint. To the right stood a tall, armored Caernling, a bearded warrior clad in scale armor with a vicious looking spiked mace resting at his hip. Apparently that was how the goods were kept safe.

"Forgive my tardiness," came a voice with a Westerling accent. They were interwoven with soft clicks upon the floor. "I would have answered sooner, but as they say in soldierly vernacular, my eyes were on the target." At that moment, the door to the back was pulled open, and a Westerling came in. He was a middle-aged man clutching a cane with a dragon-shaped head, a coal-skinned gentleman wearing black-and-gold fineries and old spectacles. His beard was ash-colored, and he wore a sad but steady smile.

"How can I help you?" he asked.

[User]
Lothair pointed at the fleeing stalker "He's the one who made the mess! That bloody pickpocket!" He urgently blathered trying to continue the pursuit. He figured that if he could get the angry man to help them catch the suspect, then things would be a lot easier since the angry man was a native after all... he probably knew these streets and alleys like the back of his hand. Regardless, Lothair wanted to continue the pursuit regardless of what the angry man thought. He looked over at Riley to see what she had in mind...

When they were spotted Riley jumped into action. While Lothair had turned to talk to the angered shopkeep she drew her crossbow and pulled a bolt from her cloak, not wanting to chance the stranger catching her or Lothair with whatever he had on him if they ran him down. She loaded the bolt and quickly dropped to a knee to take aim, going for the runners legs, well preferably the legs, honestly as long as the hit wasn't lethal...by the time Lothair had turned back around he would hear the twang of her loosing the bolt.

The bolt whizzed by the corner of Lothair's eye as he turned. He turned to look at Riley, with her crossbow aimed at the fleeing man. He was dumbfounded... just as he was trying to convince this man that the fleeing perpetrator was the guy he wanted to chase... here she was about to potentially kill this poor sod. If he wasn't so involved, his hand would have swiftly found its place on top of his face... in fact he was almost tempted as he didn't want to look at what happened next. However, it was clear that things were about to get dangerous. Thus, he had a hand rest on the pommel of his sword, ready to draw it in case a fight broke out.


[System]
Gender:

Male

Age:

11

House:

Hufflepuff

Faceclaim = Khalil Madovi
Wand:

12 1/2 inch, Dogwood, Phoenix feather

Pet:

While not strictly having a pet of his own, Peter makes use of the family owl Hutch regularly in order to post letters to his family at home and receive his month comic subscription. He also has a bulldog named Lincoln although obviously he remains at the family home.

Strengths:

Peter is fairly talented at transfiguration, with him progressing through the art swiftly. The term animagus perked his interest after reading it in one of his brother's old schoolbooks. Peter also has a knack for Charms, with him keen to learn more on food-related charms due to his mother. His father also taught him how to cook and bake. Peter can also give a good fifteen minute talk on the history of the Marvel universe if that counts for anything!

Weaknesses:

Subject wise, Peter isn't a fan of Herbology, or flying for that matter. While he's a huge fan of Quidditch, he just isn't very good at it! He is also very nervous when it comes to meeting new people, so struggles making friends.

Personality:

As stated above, Peter Dobson struggles to make friends, coming across as a nervous and awkward eleven year old boy, with him preferring to keep his nose buried within the pages of his comics rather than interacting with those around him. However he is very enthusiastic about topics that perk his interest, as well as extremely hardworking when it comes to lessons. He is basically the stereotypical Hufflepuff underneath it all; loyal, hardworking and just.

History:

Due to his brother's excellence at school and his parent's work, Peter was unintentionally neglected as a child. His family owned and lived in The Hopping Pot pub in Carkitt Market next to Diagon Alley, so when he found that he spent a lot of time wondering the streets and a regular of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. He enjoyed cooking in the pub's huge kitchens after being taught how by his mother and by the age of 8 Peter would regularly serve dinner to his family.

When his mother decided that she wanted him and his brother Dylan to learn more about her muggle routes, the two spent the majority of their summer staying with their Uncle David in Bristol, where their days were filled with movie marathons and other typical muggle activities. Well typical for Uncle David, who spent most of his free time led across his coach. It was during his stay in Bristol that Peter got into comics after finding David's collection and despite the lack of moving images, he loved them. While back in London and Carkitt Market, comics were Peter's only tie to the muggle world.

It was no surprise that Peter received his Hogwarts letter in the post just after he turned 11, as during this time, he had been experiencing bursts of magic, such as accidentally setting one of the umbrella's at the Ice Cream Parlour on fire! Peter soon set off to Hogwarts, along with his cooking recipes and comics.

NPCs:

While these characters won't actually appear in person, they shall be mentioned by Peter via his thoughts, speech or even his letters to or from them.

Harold Dobson - Father - Hufflepuff - Owner and Barman of The Hopping Pot pub

Iris Dobson - Mother - Hufflepuff - Co-owner and Barmaid of The Hopping Pot pub

Dylan Dobson - Brother - Ravenclaw - Works for the Goblin Liaison Office at the Ministry of Magic

David Broach - Uncle - Muggle - Unemployed

[User]
"Pardon granted!" Charlotte smiled at the new girl and waved her wand, producing purple sparks this time.

"I'm Charlotte, this is Indiana," she gestured up to the luggage rack where her owl hooted softly down at them.

"I'm a witch!" She announced happily, "Are you?"

[Assistant]
Chandler looked up from staring out of the window and his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the compartment door being opened. "Hey, you mind if I sit here? I promise not to fall asleep and snore the whole time, or get motion sickness, or unload all my family drama on you."

Chandler had to giggle a bit, "no I don't mind. The more the merrier and making the trip alone would have been... Well boring. My names Chandler, Chandler Webster."

"Nolan Archer," Nolan replied as he got the trunk fully under the seat. "Nice to meet you," he continued, reaching out for a handshake.

With a smile Chandler returned the handshake, "nice to meet you Nolan. It's weird I guess I thought wizards and witches would greet with something other than a handshake. I got a lot to learn I guess heh. I'm the first one in my family to have powers." He shrugged and looked at Castiel who in turn was not taking her eyes off of the newcomer. "Oh and this is Castiel."

Nolan laughed as he plopped down on the seat across from Chandler. "Nice to meet you to Castiel," he said with a grin. Upon getting no response, he shrugged. "Cats..." He then gestured to the train all around them. "Well I expected this to behave like much more than just a train, but I was disappointed there." He grinned, "It's not too hard to get used to though. Overall just be polite in the same way you'd be to Muggles and you should be set. Just make sure you're friends with someone who knows about wizard society though, so you can ask about anything strange. You'll be fine though. Hogwarts and the world in general these days is a lot more accommodating to people in your position."

Chandler cocked his head to the side he assumed that muggle was a person unable to use magic. He shrugged again and let Castiel out of her cage to paw around the compartment. The white and black striped kitten slowly approached Nolan and stretched out as far as her body would allow to sniff him before running back to Chandler's side. "I mean it's going to be confusing but so far I have to say it's pretty awesome. So what happens when we get there?"

Nolan watched the kitten with an amused look. His family had never kept pets aside from their handful of owls. He nodded at Chandler's comment. "Yeah, it's a lot to get used to. Dad still seems a little uncomfortable when we go to events. As for when we get there..." Nolan's eyes widened in excitement. After years of hearing stories, it was nice to be the one to tell the stories. "Actually I'm not too sure. My brothers have told me some stuff. So there's this lake that we cross in boats to get to the castle. And there's this huge feast where you get Sorted. There's four houses and while you're at Hogwarts, they're sort of like your family, not that you can't have friends in other houses." He gave quick glance out the window, curious as to the house he'd end up in.

Chandler figured that if it could get Nolan this excited then Hogwarts was going to be awesome indeed. He was a bit curious though but he controlled himself to only asking a few questions Instead of bombarding the poor boy. "How are we sorted and what sort of Houses are their? " His mind was a whirl taking in the information and breaking it down all at once, Castiel curled herself in Chandlers lap while the 11 year old watched Nolan waiting for more information.

Nolan held up a hand with four fingers counting off each of the houses. "So there's Gryffindor which is just famous these days 'cause of Harry Potter. They say that's where the courageous people go. Then there's Slytherin which is for the ambitious cunning folk. They kinda have a bad reputation since a lot of evil wizards are Slytherins. Not so much these days, and there's really nothing wrong with being ambitious is there?" he grinned, imagining the look on Judoc's face if he ended up in Slytherin. "Next is Ravenclaw. They're more concerned with knowledge and learning and other brainy things. They're kinda weird too. My brother Roy is one and his heads always in the clouds. That's probably the house I'm least likely to end up in.... And of course, Hufflepuff. They're the hard workers. A lot of people like to say Hufflepuffs are less talented and that they end up there because they wouldn't fit in the other houses. My older brother Tidus though, he's amazingly good at everything. So don't for a second think there's anything wrong with Hufflepuff..." he trailed off. "The Sorting itself... I really don't know, actually. My brothers refuse to tell me," the boy looked down his face a bit redder than before," Think it's better if I find out like they did. But those are the houses! Any idea where you want to end up?"

Chandler mostly just stared at the other boy as he listed the houses, this was where people called him weird and shunned him. His mind while very sharp had a interesting trait that has to filter all the information that he receives. The filter breaks it down and once it finishes Chandler can always remember the conversation, including the details around him. It just made him look slightly crazy simply staring with a little glaze on his eyes. He nodded as Nolan finished and shrugged. He watched closely to see any reaction to the stare. "I would say either Ravenclaw or Gryffindor since as you can see I can get pretty air headed as well. But I have a weird reflex to protect people." He shrugged again and patted Castiel a few times.

[User]
Pearleane's gaze drifted from the station to the girl who had joined her in the compartment. Her crimson lips parted in a gasp, not even hearing the girl come in. Her mother had let her wear makeup for the special day, and she felt quite mature. "I didn't even he-" Pearleane started before the light featured girl held up a small white board.

"Hello. Sorry for intruding," she wrote, holding it up for them to see before erasing it.

Pearleane was fascinated with this young girl's idea of introduction and a grin plastered across her face. Perhaps it was some sort of game? Pearleane loved games. She nodded, "You're not intruding!" Pearleane exclaimed as the girl began erasing. Pearleane waited in anticipation before the girl held up the board once more.

"My name is Dani. May I ask what your name is?"
Pearleane!" she bursted out as if answering a trivia question in a game. She giggled, "Nice to meet you Dani. Why are you using a board? Cat got your tongue?" The girl didn't have much space for being too shy and quiet about asking questions about people. She didn't mean to be mean about it, just genuinely curious. She played with one of her braids as she waited for the girl to write her answer back to her.

[Assistant]
Julius winced as a shrill voice entered his ears and grated against them like sandpaper. A . . . rather nerdy looking girl with short black hair entered the compartment. When she smiled, she had braces on.

It's a penguin.

"It's a penguin."

Of all the times for his mind and mouth to be in sync-! Shaking his head quickly, he covered up his little slip. "Uh, I mean, it's nice to meet ya, Moriah! I'm Julius!"

Thinking back on what she said earlier, he found something he thought was weird. "What do you mean Slytherin is where all the bad guys go? It doesn't seem to be that bad of a house, it's just . . . kinda like the others, right? It's got some good stuff, some bad stuff. My dad even said that if he had to say which house would do the most for a lot of people, it would be Slytherin!" he said, crossing his arms. His father was his idol and really smart, so of course he was right! "Besides, I think Hufflepuff is the best house," he added.

[User]
Peter Dobson was beaming ear to ear as he shunted his trolley through Kings Cross Station, his mother hurrying ahead of him leading the way. Nobody paid the two much attention, since the whole station seemed to be full of similar groups; teenagers from around 11 to 17 heaving trolleys filled with trunks and in some cases, owls in bird cages. You'd think that this would cause some interest from other passersby though it seemed that either they were oblivious to these strange sights or truly just didn't care! It didn't take long for Peter and his mother to reach the wall between platforms 9 and 10. Here the duo stopped for a few seconds, before the mother took her son by the hand, and the two of them sprinted forward, as if being pulled forward by a magnet of sorts. Despite what he had promised himself prior, Peter flinched as he hit the wall, shutting his eyes tights as he "made contact".

He was met with a wonderful sight of scarlet when he opened them, the magnificent train gleaming in all it's glory in front of him. The platform was crowded with families; some bidding each other goodbye in between fits of tears while others laughed and joked. The site wasn't all that strange for Peter, who had grown up in the middle of Diagon Alley although despite that, he still hurried on forward, his mouth open in awe as he did so. After convincing his mother to buy him a pumpkin pastie from one of the stands he sat and ate in silence staring around as his mother went off with the bulk of his luggage in order to get someone to store it on board. He still had one of his cases of course, to hold his robes which he needed for tonight, as well as a few comics to preoccupy himself with on the journey.

"I'm so proud of you" His mother began to tear up as she kneeled down next to Peter after returning. "Remember to be good! I don't want to hear anything but good things from you Petey!"

Reassuring her that he'd be fine, Peter gave her a hug, only to be interrupted by a whistle which signaled that the train would be leaving soon. Giving his mother one last smile, he grabbed his remaining suitcase and rushed off, climbing on board the train behind a group of laughing teenagers some years old than him. After spending a good few minutes making his way down the train, he stopped outside a nearly empty looking one which seemed good enough to him. Opening the doors he was met with a pretty young girl wearing bright crimson lipstick and another girl holding up a whiteboard. Not wanting to just burst in, he gave the open door a quick knock, gestured to one of the window seats with his head. "Do y' mind if I sit?" He asked with a smile before taking another glance at the whiteboard in confusion which read "My name is Dani. May I ask what your name is?"


[System]
Hōgan, Foremost General of the Minamoto

Class: Saber

Gender: Female

Attribute: Human

Era: 1159-1189

Alignment: Lawful Neutral

Personality: Her flighty childhood days are over, replaced with years of war. However, a child of a tengu will always be a tengu, and thus she remains a playful and friendly individual to those she calls comrade. In war, however, the darker side of her becomes immediately apparent, as she becomes cold and calculating, thinking of her opponents not of "people" but more akin to "numbers she must deal with to achieve her objectives." Inhuman to the very end of her life, but she still loves just like anyone else. In essence, a nice big sister who's a bit off.

Bio:
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Minamoto_no_Yos…
typemoon.fandom.com/wiki/Rider_(Fate/…

Weapon: Yoshitsune was proficient with all the expected weapons of a samurai, from the bow to the staff to the blade. Thus, she has access to them, but prefers the blade to attack, as befitting of her class.

Parameters:

Strength: D

Endurance: C

Agility: A

Mana: B

Luck: B

Class Skills:

Magic Resistance: B
Yoshitsune's resistance to magecraft and other such miracle working has increased more to more than usual due to her existence as a Saber. As she is at rank B, high thaumaturgy, rituals, and other such advanced magecraft have difficulty affecting her.

Riding: A+
Yoshitsune's ability to ride was quite advanced, due to needing to play the games that tengu children did, and she was quite skilled in riding her own personal mount, Tayuguro. Her personal ability with animals gives her quite the advantage, although dragonkind remains beyond her reach. She is capable of using even Divine Beasts as her mount.

Personal Skills:

War Arts of the Minamoto Tengu: A
The sum tutelage of the highest of the Tengu to Ushiwakamaru, from kyudo to kendo. It served her well throughout all her years, from slaying the demonic spider to defeating the bandit lord when she was but fifteen. However, when she matured and served under her brother Yoritomo, she needed more than just skills for heroic combat. As Yoshitsune, she learned how to properly be a leader of men, to know how wars were waged and not just duels. Together, these skills made her one of, if not the most acclaimed samurai in the Heian period, as they were forged under years of combat experience into something almost beyond humans.

Provides bonus to close-combat power such as swordsmanship, archery and spearmanship, as well as Skills such as Military Tactics and Magic Resistance. It is possible to demonstrate skill at arms that chafes against the Class container system.

Heavenly Child of the Tengu: A

Protection from "something" on Mt. Kurama. A gift from learning under the greatest of the Tengu, honed under years of combat into something more than the sum of its parts. While in any other person, their minds would be twisted by such knowledge, what could such things do to a girl with a mind who was never shaped properly by humanity as a child?

An abnormal channel in the brain that aligns one to an aspect of a war god, a boon (Crest) descending from that principle. Drawing upon this gift, she becomes more "War" than "human," or even "tengu." Perhaps it tapped into her family's patronage of Hachiman, but nevertheless, her skill in war was proven over and over in the breaking of the Taira.

Use of this skill consumes mental energy, rather than magical energy. If it is overused, the qualification of Heroic Spirit may be lost.

Flight of the Swallow: A

Hearkening back into the days when she dueled Benkei and evaded his blows twice, Yoshitsune was always surefooted and quick to move. Her age has not decreased her ability in this, but rather, advanced it beyond measure. Refining her naturally light and swift body with a lifetime of training and experience, she has achieved a level of movement equivalent to the deepest secrets of Shugendou's Tengu Flight. With just the legs of a human, she has achieved the wings of a bird. Put into practice against her older brother's foes, she has leapt from the level of ability achievable from a prodigal warrior into something utterly supernatural.

Noble Phantasms:

Usumidori
Heavenly Blade of the Minamoto

Rank: D
NP Type: Anti-Human (Or so she says)

Range: 1-30

Maximum Number of Targets: 100

Naturally, as a Saber, Yoshitsune has a blade befitting of a legendary samurai of her era. A blade passed down the Minamoto clan for ages, it holds anti-Demonic properties, hearkening back to the days when demons were commonplace throughout the land of the rising sun, when Minamoto-no-Raikou and her legendary four retainers did combat against the monsters of the age such as the oni on Mount Ooe.

While retaining its anti-Demonic properties, as the giant spider learned unfortunately, Yoshitsune wished to be ever swifter, ever stronger, ever more skilled, so that she could server her older brother even better. One by one was ever-so inefficient, so she sought to be able to slay a hundred men in but one slash.

And so, she did. Bringing forth Usumidori's inherent abilities as a demon slaying blade, she releases a sonic attack unconsciously drawing upon her memories of the Tengu fan techniques she witnessed in childhood. In adulthood she has finally achieved her ambition of being able to cut down a hundred men in but one blow. When Yoshitsune fully draws upon her skill to cut, the resulting sword technique produces a spider-slaying vibration that can utterly break down anything it comes into contact with.

[User]
Oni no Hanzo
Foreign District, Tour Montparnasse, Top Platform
Night

---

A single moment, brought together by the web of information she had carefully woven. A single strike, a single move, and Hanzo disappeared with a single prize, leaving behind a headless body. She knew nothing of the person, nothing of what she was or who she was, just that she was a Master. Another faceless person to assassinate.

---

Nanashi
Bois de Boulogne

---

Nanashi yawned, looking as if he was going to fall dead asleep on his feet right there and then. "I don't really understand all this complicated stuff. Lets fight someone already. Hiring a strong yojimbo just to let them rot in bodyguard duty is gonna dull their sword, you know?"

He stood up and put his tachi back onto his belt. "Oi, Demon Lord. Lets find someone to fight. Oh, right right." He flashed an arrogant grin at Chieko. "I forgot to tell you but, I've left a package for you in your room."

[Assistant]
The Dragonfly's Wings
Foreign District, Tour Montparnasse, Streets

Master?...Master?

In his prone state he saw the kicking coming towards his head. He had no time to roll out of the way. The best he could do was try to block and make the kick a glancing blow. The quickly brought the shaft of his spear in front of his face, Berserker's kick making contact with it. The sheer force of the attack launched him clear down the road, rocking him through a building before rolling to a stop in yet another street. He picked himself up. His left arm was a broken, mangled mess that hung limply from his body.

Master? Master?!

A feeling of dread came over him. He could feel the very Earth underneath his feet start to reject his existence. His Master had been killed. He had twice failed to protect his Master this war and he could feel that this might be the end. Unless.

"Berserker wait! I can sense my Master is in danger. Please, she is only a girl. We can continue some other night. I would rather not rob you of an empty victory!"

On a nearby building, a certain metal eagle was perched, observing the events that were transpiring.

---

The Resting Giant
Basement, Somewhere in the Foreign District

Jackson was watching the fight between the Lancer and Berserker intently through his Cauldron. He could hear the nearby destruction being caused by their fight and prayed that they didn't somehow end up close to his homebase. He had a rough second night, having lost his first servant. The sensible thing to do would be to seek asylum at the Cathedral, but he was too stubborn. He wanted his ideal world realised.

He continued to watch the fight. Perhaps he could somehow use it to gain something...

---

[User]
Sylvester II
Street in 7th Arrondisement, Core District
@Danchou @SSW

"I suppose I should introduce myself. You can call me Rider."

Rider spoke to his opponent. After all, though he was one for flamboyant and "cool" openings, he was also a rather straightforward guy. Nothing was cooler than him simply introducing himself, for he was the coolest of them all!

He stood only a few meters away from his opponent, standing there with his leather trench coat blowing itself in the wind.

"We are summoned to kill. That is the purpose of a Heroic Spirit, is it not? "We shall become your blade" and all that noise. N-Not to say I use a blade, but ya know."

An absolutely SMOOTH operator.

"I don't particularly mind it, though. After all, if we are called by the Grail, that means that we desire something from it, does it not? Unfortunately for you and everyone else in this grail war, I desire the Grail myself, and I am not too keen on giving it up anytime soon. Ain't that what it means to wish upon the Grail? Those who want the Grail shall destroy the desires of those others who wish for the Grail. Only one will hold the cup of god's son in their hand."

"Come forth. I preached peace in my life, so I'd rather not take the first strike against you."

This was merely a formality. Rider did not believe in violence in life and often, ironically enough, fought against the hyper-violent nature of warfare. However, as a Servant that meant nothing. If he wished to obtain the Grail, he had to fight.

But to not have his mount summoned … Did that mean that Rider was going easy against Saber?

No, his stance and the fire found within his eyes seemed to tell a story of sincerity, his words holding nothing back against his opponent. In fact, Rider was likely the sort of person who couldn't hold back, regardless of the situation.

… But to not use his mount …

What sort of trickery was this?

At least, that is how it appeared to the untrained eye. Or an eye that could not calculate the "now" of "existence" like the artificial eye that Rider saw the world through. His mount was his arm and his eye. An unorthodox approach to riding, but the Rider before Saber was not the sort to take things in an orthodox manner. He was the man who provided all the world with his theories and advanced society in western Europe, leading to the eventual renaissance in Italy.

"To the mages, we refer to as "Masters" we are simply pawns with the desire to obtain the Holy Grail War, be it for glory, personal or otherwise. Though I always preached peace in life, I do not mind fighting for what I believe in. Come Saber: I shall bring you your release, just as I had done to the Lancer of this war!"

[Assistant]
Agria's Workshop, The Catacombs

With a sigh, Yoshitsune rose up from where she had sat meditating. Servants did not require rest or sleep in the conventional manner, but her brief transformation into an avatar of a war god had drained quite a bit of mental energy, to the point where rather than seeking out other fights on that second night, she chose rather to go back to the base Agria had set out in the catacombs.
Meditating seemed to be as good of a choice as any, after briefly checking over her master, who had likely fallen asleep from working on her own projects and supporting her in the duel with the red-haired Archer. After ensuring that she was in a vaguely comfortable position and putting a blanket over her, she had stood guard near the entrance, meditating all the while in the efforts to ensure her mind was hale enough so she could rely upon it and be able to activate her dangerous skill if need be.

But the third night had come, and with a plethora of activity at that. Before she left, however, she made sure to stop by Agria's workshop. She would be a poor Servant and warrior to not be aware of her lord's plans and health, after all.

"Hello there, Master! How are you doing? Anything I should do while I'm out there?"


[System]
Age: 44

Starting Location/Current Location: East Blue

Personality: "Work smarter, not harder"; that's the motto by which Shigeuchi lives his life. He's a man who dislikes making things complicated, one who's always looking for the easiest option without compromising on the end result; the mark of a job well done is not exceeding expectations but by meeting expectations with time and resources to spare. That said, he also believes that a job worth doing is one worth doing well; his approach to life should not be mistaken for laziness or sloppiness.

This makes him very good at organising and leading people towards completing a task, while at the same time making him something of a nightmare to work under. He is very particular about the way things are done, can be strict and demanding of his underlings. He is quick to anger when mistakes are made but also quick to forgive and forget in the name of keeping things moving. Furthermore, Shigeuchi is also very frugal; a perennial penny-pincher who approaches purchases with a mentality of only buying what's 'good enough' and nothing more. He is not one to indulge in frivolous needs.

Lastly, Shigeuchi is absurdly unambitious for a pirate. He never seeks out responsibility or power, instead finding it placed in his lap without ever looking for it and grumbling about how troublesome it makes his life the whole time. He is someone who cannot fathom how he ended up where he has, with people under his command and a heap of responsibility weighing on his shoulders; he'll complain and lament his existence constantly, even as he works hard at his given task.

Dream/Goal: Dreams? Shigeuchi doesn't have many right now. A life without complications would probably be his answer; money would help with that, so would power, while fame would be a detriment. Unfortunately as a pirate those things tend to go hand in hand.

For now his goal would be keeping his old captain's son alive. Maybe work at helping him become stronger than his father someday, if the boy's willing.

History: Where to start? Shigeuchi first became a pirate as a teenager, being recruited as a lowly deck hand in the fleet of Shiki the Golden Lion the one time the large pirate fleet docked at his home town for supplies; they were looking for new blood and Shigeuchi was looking for a way out of his current situation, seeking a life of freedom with the pirate crew. This was not a well thought out decision.

It turned out that being the lowest rung of the ladder on a fleet of cutthroats and brigands was not the easy life he had imagined it to be however and did not remotely live up to the romantic image most young idiots have of a life at sea. Shigeuchi was put hard to work by the crew, was given little freedom or pay in return and for the most part spent the next couple of years bored and tired. It was a simple life however, one that didn't require much thought on his part and he always knew more or less what the next day would bring.

He was a hard worker however and seemed to have a talent for directing his fellow workers so as to make them more efficient and effective, something which didn't go unnoticed. Bit by bit he was promoted up the ranks of the crew, at one point or another in his twenty years of being a pirate holding almost every position that didn't require specialist knowledge or skills, almost always in a position to order or organise other crew members. Shigeuchi complained every step of the way, always grumbling about the complications and extra responsibilities his new role brought, but generally accepted because it was always easier to be the one giving the order than the one trying to correct the orders of others.

At some point Shigeuchi even found himself in charge of an entire division, only one of over fifty in Shiki's fleet but a division nonetheless. As part of his new position he was even given a Devil Fruit, the Kōkan-Kōkan No Mi, both as a reward for his promotion and to make him a stronger member of Shiki's fleet. The Devil Fruit and its associated curse was another complication he never wanted, but at least the power to move himself and his crew around the ship near instantaneously was useful for keeping things moving.

Shigeuchi worked as a division commander for a little over a year when Roger went and got himself executed and the Admiral's eldest son got it into his head to run off and start his own crew. As a result, Shigeuchi was ordered to go after the brat and become a member of his crew, to assist him in whatever he wanted to do and to keep him alive while trying to convince him to join his father's fleet.

His life has never felt more complicated than it did during that time. He followed Nikko on the first legs his journey, always seemingly a step behind as he tried to catch up to the aspiring writer, eventually finding him and convincing the boy to let him join his crew. In the process he managed to avoid the fate of the rest of the Gold Lion Pirates, avoiding death or imprisonment unlike the others.

He thought it would end when Nikko published his book, but now the brat has it in mind to write a new story about the new Pirate King and, of course, Shigeuchi is going to need to keep an eye on him.

Crew: The Red Lion Pirates

Ship: The Gold Lion Mark 2

Specialty/Profession: First Mate of the Red Lion Pirates

Fighting Style: As a swordsman, the way Shigeuchi fights should be obvious; to put it simply it involves getting as close to the enemy as possible and sticking his sword in them before they do the same to him. That said he's only a semi-decent duellist, nothing special as far as swordsman go, so he needs to rely on more than just his skills to win. He uses a longer sword than most and wields it two-handed, relying on strength and technique more than speed to beat his opponents.

Shigeuchi's epithet of 'Trickster' comes from the way in which he uses his Devil Fruit power as he fights. His Devil Fruit allows him to swap places with another object of similar size, including his opponent; he uses this power to instantly chance his or his opponent's position on the battlefield, confusing them and using that to his advantage.

Weapons: A tachi; like a katana but with a longer blade and a deeper curve, for those of you who don't know. He also carries a tanto as a backup weapon.

Devil Fruit: Kōkan-Kōkan No Mi – A Paramecia type fruit known as the Exchange-Exchange Fruit. It allows the user to exchange two objects of roughly equal size, having them trade places instantaneously with each other. At the moment Shigeuchi is only able to use his Devil Fruit power on himself, trading places with another object within his range so long as that object is about the same size as himself, but eventually he'll be able to exchange an object he is holding or touching with another and maybe even swapping any two objects or people he can see.

Items: Aside from his weapons, the clothes on his back and a bag with a few basic supplies, Shigeuchi doesn't have much in the way of possessions.

Bounty: 130,000,000 Beli. It's not often a first mate has a higher bounty that their captain, but Shigeuchi is still wanted for his time as part of The Gold Lion Pirates on top of being a member of Nikko's crew.

Color: It's gray. Hope it's not too hard to read.

[User]
Location - GOLD LION MKII
Cosmos-@ladyonyx04-@KillBox

"Want some? You gotta keep my presence on the down low."

Daring, imaginative, but very very stupid. After all, the line between bold and brash, and belongs in the trash, was a very thin line. A line Lexi leaped right over into baffling, and then as several pirates just looked at her for a good hard moment, it changed to insulted. No doubt the group of pirates who noticed her would include a member or two from the very group who had been with the captain in the bar. And considering they were noticeably under attack... Well the offer to let a clear enemy onto their ship was easily dismissed.

In short...

"Miss, we're pirates, not stupid." One out of the dozen said. Gun raising up and taking aim at Lexi, the bottle, and her very vital organs. "Now, why don't you do a sensible thing, and surrender. Once we're clear of port, the captain can decide to drop you off the side of the ship, or sell you off at the next port." As it turns out... Sneaking onto a pirate ship, only to announce one's presence? Really bad idea. Especially considering all the guns, swords, and very angry scowls directed at her.

Though, if she played her cards right, at least she would get to meet the captain. Not a bad consultation prize.

[Assistant]
Caitlyn laughs amused as he called her lashes fake. "My darling idiot. My looks are as real as yours are. All inherited from my darling mother who I take after pretty much." Of course that wasn't all she'd inherited. Whore's child she might be, but she actually wasn't one. Sure she'd been taught with many skills of one, but she'd never sold her body like that. The leader of the house had protected the child in that way at least, letting the child have something of a childhood. This swing was different, Caitlyn noticed immediately and let her instincts take over as she jumped upward and kicked outward as water solidified behind her foot and she once more pushed herself off the foothold she'd made.  "Rain fall!" She exclaimed feeling that would work, and droplets of water fell around the swordsman as she continued upward. She needed to get onto that ship to do the rescuing after all.

"Sell me? As if I'm goods? Well Pirates you might be, but you still are very stupid." Lexi stated and struck out with the quickness of a snake, taking one of the Pirates into her hold and then one of her poisoned daggers pointed against the throat of her captive. "How about you take me to your Captain anyway? I'd so hate to disappoint mine and start killing, but really, I'm just about done being insulted by you low ranked no bodies." She growls, her whole demeanor saying she was honestly through being docile. If they weren't stupid and had that whole 'we will do anything for our crew mates' that Luffy had with his crew, then perchance this might work. But if not, she's more than willing to leave behind corpses.

[User]
So, that's where that Devil Fruit ended up.

Shigeuchi watched as Kuroda left the ship, disappearing in a flash of light as he reappeared by the young woman on the docks. He began to distract her, by which he meant drawing his swords and attacking the other Logia-user with a half-hearted swing, engaging the water-manipulating woman in combat. The older pirate watched as the youngster fought with the clear intent to delay rather than actually hurt his opponent, while the girl dodged and spent more time talking than trying to fight back. He let out a sigh; the fact the upstart had managed to get his hands on that fruit of all things was a bit concerning given his attitude so far. If he tried anything, like trying to oust either himself or the captain for example, then it wouldn't be as simple as throwing him overboard and letting him cool off on his way back to shore, they'd have to kill him.

He'd have to give the kid The Speech soon and hope that it sank in. Power didn't automatically mean authority, but if he didn't realise that himself and accept it then there would be problems.

Nikko gave the order to depart, breaking away from the docks in a more literal sense than normal. The Golden Lion MKII would head out to sea first, gaining some distance from their attackers before deploying their balloons and taking to the skies; they didn't need to win this fight after all, just escape, and the longer they spent tethered to the dock the more time the Royal family or the marines would have to mount a rescue. It meant leaving Kuroda behind, which Shigeuchi would be fine with, but unfortunately the upstart could fly back to the ship before they got too far away.

A gunshot rang out on the docks and Shigeuchi turned his attention back to the fight between the light and the water to see the former take a bullet through the shoulder. That the bullets drew blood either meant that Kuroda still wasn't used to his Devil Fruit power and hadn't turned intangible in response to the attack or that the shooter had imbued the shots with Haki before firing. Shigeuchi scanned the dock for the gunman, expecting to see the white uniform of a marine or another crew involving themselves in the fight; he saw nothing of the sort however, nothing but a panicked crowd of bystanders running for cover. It was perhaps a lone gunman, but a one gunman that could use Haki was a problem he didn't want to deal with.

It was a kind of rule that Logia-users who were new to their powers thought themselves invincible until they had their first run-in with a Haki user, at which point they either learned a harsh lesson in life or died. Kuroda may have just learned that lesson, Haki was a rare skill even in Paradise after all, but judging from the way he continued to attack rather than panic or freeze up suggested he was familiar with it already.

A commotion on the deck dragged his attention back to the ship. Turning his head he saw the assassin, the young captain's so far only confirmed crewmember, holding one of their own crewmembers hostage. She had made it aboard somehow, sneaking onto the boat before they could leave the docks and now holding a knife to someone's throat.

With an exasperated, drawn out breath Shigeuchi drew his sword and pulled a nearby crewmember in front of himself, lining the two of them up so that he could see both the pirate and Lexi at the same time. Raising the sword above his head and placing both hands on the hilt, Shigeuchi prepared to cleave through the crewmember before him with one stroke. "Don't move." He reached out with his Devil Fruit ability, attempting to wrap both the pirate and Lexi with his power and swap their positions and cut the assassin down before she knew what hit her.

He tensed his muscles and drew power into his arms, the blade of his sword turning black as he imbued the weapon with Armament Haki just in case, and made the switch.

The power fizzled out and Shigeuchi stopped the blade a millimetre above the pirate's collarbone before he could cleave his own crewmember in half. With a huff he sheathed his sword and pushed the somewhat shaken crewmember aside, forcing his way through the disgruntled pirates until he stood at the front of the circle of guns and swords surrounding Lexi. "Nice trick, whatever it is. Captain's busy, so you get me instead; what do you want?"


[System]
Appearance:

Age: 16

Personality: Most times, stoic and android-like persona. She rarely talks without sounding like a drone or she lacks emotions. Most likely due to how she was raised and trained. She does talk when addressed or if she deems it necessary to speak.

Motive to live: Unknown

Background: Mai's background is rather mysterious but is considered one of the best up and coming pilots in the Frameworks Project divisions. Much of Mai's background is either unknown or considered classified but the story that's going around about her is that she was one of several "numbers" children that were trained in the early stages of the Frameworks Project when some thought that human emotions were a hinderance against the Cruxi. As such, Mai's personality may have come from the perhaps extreme training but some rumors say that the children were pushed to such extreme's that it was deemed inhumaine even for military standards. Hence why that Frameworks division was disbanded and Mai was transfered to Framework Project XJ9 division.

The goal was to help Mai with synenergy and teamwork with other squads but due to her personality, has trouble doing so. Thus the reason for the transfer amonst other reasons just metioned. Whether anything about Mai "Seven" Twilight is true, though, is another matter. A good pilot and mechanic.

Notable Deaths: Unknown

Other things: As stated, Mai was apart of a disbanded Frameworks division. What became of the other children is unknown but due to her perfect health and training, she was deemed worthy for Framework Project XJ9. But much is not known of her. Motive to live, Notable Deaths and Personal history are classified and only known by higher-ups of the Framework divisions.

Framework Code Name: Setsuka (Model ID code: R-1)

Appearance:

Signature Weapon System: Telekenetic System - Perhaps the most unique of the current Frameworks is to tap into the "energy" that comes from the syncho rate to weild energy amplified by this system. From the frameworks mecha hands, it can then fire it like beams. It can even keep the energy itself stored into the hands to either create "energy based" weapons like swords out of pure energy or simply increase it's punching power. However, this puts a ton of mental strain on it's pilot. If the pilot loses control, his/her synchro rate drops faster than usual along with losing this combat system since the synchro rate must be high enough to produce energy (60% or higher for low output. 80% or higher for higher outputs). Anything below 60% won't produce enough energy to weild. There's also a rumor that this combat system is actually stolen technology from the Cruxi modded for human Framework pilots and Mai is it's first test pilot.

Secondary Weapon System: On it's hips are a pair of mech-sized Magnum Pistols. Each holding 8 shots, the name itself implies high powered shots capable of penetrating high grade armor. However, accurracy becomes an issue past mid range and limited ammo capacity means "spray and pray" isn't an option. A good weapons set for taking out slow but heavy armored targets.

Armor Type: Medium

Special Ability: ???

Current Synchro Rate: 74%

[User]
The river ran deep and fast against the steady rocks. Yeshua squatted on the edge of its ridge, his feet planted firmly on the rock. He didn't move and only stared at the rushing white water, moving like it was on fire. Instead it only threw moisture at his young face.

He couldn't see his reflection.

The boy stood up, wiping off any wet patches off his trousers. He dipped down and yanked the blazer which he now wore. It was emblazoned with the logo of the facility. While not appearing too flashy, it emitted a very professional but causal air.

It stunk of fish.

He fell over a pile of dead salmon, the greasy and decomposing flesh wiping down his ankles. He kicked one of the unluckier corpses back into the water. His eyes fell down to the awful stain, unaware of the equally disgusting smell. He hadn't been afraid of much. The salmon chunks stuck to his cuffs, even when he shook his leg violently and without control. He knew what to do.

While he was ankle deep in the rapids, he saw a familiar silhouette in the distance. Its brown outline and wet nose gave away its identity. He couldn't miss what a beautiful creature it was. A spooky shadow cast over the rather small creature until it was right on top of it; a fluffy case of snow-white and charcoal-black feathers burnt through the trees, its claws wrapping deep into the bear cub's flesh. The bear squealed for its parent, still in the burrow. By the time the thunderous steps of the mother had broken the ground and shattered the leaves of the trees, the Eagle had laboriously flew to two hundred feet in the air. Its massive wings flapped with each steady beat, a weightlifter with his prize. The bear had given up screaming and now took in the gorgeous view.

The corpse smashed against the ground, bouncing slightly before rolling into the river. Rushing air followed. It eyes span out of its sockets and organs shot out of its mouth.

The Eagle followed downstream the bloody house of broken bones. The mother had not moved from its removed perch at the edge of the forest. It took five minutes for it to escape back into the darkness. A crackle filled the air. Lightning erupted from Yeshua's mouth, scorching the grass in front of him and evaporating the water. Nobody heard him laughing.

Stepping out of the cold water, he came to the conclusion that his trousers should be soaked rather than stinking. He had learnt this from the faces of the officers. They had not been impressed before, which Yeshua hoped wouldn't happen. He didn't want anyone to be sad, because that made him sad. This is what Abba told him and he believed him. Unquestioning loyalty was akin to worship, but his God was benign. His God saved him and would save him. If only he was nicer.

Yeshua didn't wipe the smile off his face as he finally arrived to the meeting, an extremely long and meandering trail of moisture behind him. He had an Eagle feather still placed on his shoulder. No notice had been taken of it. He saluted and didn't apologise.

[Assistant]
"Yes, ma'm," Krista answered. "Unit A under my command is going to include Cadets Camden, Koehler and Paris, while Junior Officer Shinkai will lead Cadets Horowitz, Liu'un, Twilight and Ramirez in unit B."

"Both of these units include the skills required for the operation?" Ritsu asked. You could tell she testing to see if the decision was carefully thought out.

"Affirmative ma'm," Lora now answered. "Both units are fully capable of securing the colonies and repelling the Cruxi."

"Very well then. Looks like I don't need to make adjustments, so we will go with these. Attention, Squad Sigma! Deployment begins in T-minus 42 hours, so prepare for that. I suggest using the time to brush up on your piloting skills and adjust your machines. Dismissed."

As the pilots spread out, Elora took a look at Yeshua, and shivered. Koehler assured her that whatever happened between the two of them wasn't her fault, but she still couldn't help but feel responsible for what kind of person he became. As cruel and self-absorbed as he was when they first met, he didn't deserve what happened to him. Nobody would deserve that. And now they were going to be thrust into a war.

Elora's hands started shaking; she was scared of going into battle. She turned around and saw Mai leaving the hall, and at first wanted to ask her about how she felt about fighting, but she remembered how she responded the last time she asked for advice on suppressing her fears like she seemed to do:

Elora, with her head hanging low, decided to do as the Lieutenant suggested and practice the landing simulation she still had trouble with; she had a bad habit of freezing up when she looked down and saw the immeasurable distance they had to drop down. It was another phobia in the meek girl's long list that she wanted to overcome.

[User]
To be honest, Romeo was a bit sad that Krista didn't include him in her group, they had done rather well in the arena and certainly thought that would carry over. He sighed and let it go for now. They hadn't had much time together since the promotion and he understood why. Maybe its just teenage hormones, but he would have sworn they were fighting for humanity, not against aliens. So why promote isolation?

He was probably just as bad. The last sixty days had been spent making adjustments to his framewerk. His lack of even a midrange weapon was part of his failure in the arena, even with the on-site-acquisition of the rifle, he didnt have the experience needed for it to be practical beyond the most basic of training. The last two months had been spent at the rifle range to bulk up his skillset while trying to determine his best weapon to use.

Due to his quick and closing style, long range was clearly out. That left mid and close range to focus on. His whips were his best weapon in close and grapple range so that left midrange fire support. He had been working on something more than 'pray and spray', he needed something with wide spread but more power. He had gone over various automatic shotgun designs and grenade launcher ideas. But to him it seemed more prudent to have a reliable weapon and adjustable amunition. That is where he came up with the plan for the 'redbloom', a series of thermite lances packed in the shape of flechette rounds, The design was for the solid but thin core to act as a matchstick to light the thermite casing around it, providing a needle puncture, followed by a firecracker to melt the area around it. SInce thermite is self-oxidizing, it could be used in sea, air or space. not to mention that the hard projectile also had thermal energy to attack their shields on two fronts.

As brilliant as this idea was, he still hadn't heard any clearance for the weapon. So he was currently relying on the approval for explosive rounds like komodo tried to use on him. An automatic shotgun with 'pellets' of smaller explosives, they used to make missiles called 'blockbusters' with the same design to rain thousands of hand grenades on the enemy forces in carpet bombings. Without any crxi to test it on, all he could do is hope things went well.

[color=f6989d]"Liviticus 9 'On the eighth day Moses summoned Aaron and his sons and the elders of Israel. He said to Aaron, "Take a bull calf for your sin offering and a ram for your burnt offering, both without defect, and present them before the Lord. Then say to the Israelites: 'Take a male goat for a sin offering, a calf and a lamb—both a year old and without defect—for a burnt offering, and an ox[b] and a ram for a fellowship offering to sacrifice before the Lord, together with a grain offering mixed with olive oil. For today the Lord will appear to you.' "[/color]

[Assistant]
Paris had quickly shot off... he was too busy to worry about a briefing that he had already known about and had already prepared for. His extensive knowledge over everything that has been given to him, and his fellow cadets was rather large. They didn't expect you to read upon the brief notes before the brief, yet Paris always did things ahead of time. Paris crept back into his little workshop area inside the hangar bay, right beside Zeus. He had been working on ideas for different alterations to Zeus, minor attachments and de-attachments, to suit different areas, and different missions.

Paris wasn't just a pilot, throughout his training he didn't just pilot Zeus, he worked on upgrading him and helped with the design, to best fit himself. Right now, he was working on making a slight offensive use for his H.E.F.F (High Energy, Force Field.) which was a mobile shield that used magnetic energy to form around Zeus or the framewerks selected target. The way the so on so force field is created is through the manipulation of plasma alongside hexagonal magnets that spread out in a spherical radius around the user/target, any projectile albeit physical or energy, is flung back and depending on the angle, the direction of the projectile can be flung directly back at it's target, sometimes. The main purpose is to keep the cruxi from touching Zeus and Allies... it has a fail-safe that doesn't do much but turning off the shield, when the energy of certain non-physical projectiles hit the shield, a portion is absorbed. The shield can only absorb a certain amount of energy. The development of this fail-safe has been slowly advancing, and Paris is waiting for Lorenzo to approve this upgrade, which allows for an offensive burst when the fail-safe is activated... as some sort of 'last-stand' capability. Paris sent in an application form for Frame-Updates recently and is waiting for the tick of approval to completely manufacture the design. After Paris had organised his little workshop behind Zeus, he decided to go train some more in the VR... get some practice in and loosen up for the mission, he was pumped and wanted to feel the grooves of the cockpit once more. He wanted to get inside!

[User]
As Elora walked, Mai seemed to suddenly appear next to her as she walked along. Mai, over the two months, had decided to work on her "lack of presence" a bit to see if it could help in situations where stealth was required. After all, she seemed to go unnoticed during the mock battle all for one pilot. And said pilot was not amonst the Sigma team.

"...Elora...calm down...don't cry...", Mai droned.

But then, she started talking more "normal" than "monotone" or "drone" like when she then said this.

"If you need help, I'll help train you until we deploy...would that be ok with you?"


[System]
Age: 31
Rank/Position: Lieutenant-Commander/Judge Advocate
Race: Human
Appearance: She stands at 5'3, an athletic build, and few curves. She has brown hair kept in a bun and grey eyes. Her skin is pale, with a dusting of freckles across her nose and cheeks. She has a birthmark on her ankle.
Personality: A consummate professional, she is dedicated to her work and the efficiency of her medicine. Stubborn and sarcastic.
History: Catherine was born, raised, and educated in Texas, as the eldest of five children. When she was younger, she waddled between a couple different career ideas, but coming from a family of doctors, Catherine seemed destined to become a physician.

Before she entered college, she was throughly sick of biology, which lead her to studying electrical engineering, and fenced as a hobby. She competed in a few regional competitions, and won second place in saber in one competition. When she was close to graduation, she felt pressured, as she did not want to spend her life in a career she did not enjoy, but she had very little time to find a new career option. She found a job at graduation and began what she felt was a monotonous routine of engineering design. Months after her graduation, a friend of hers in college was arrested and tried in civilian court. The solemnity, order, and respect afforded to the lawyers and judge appealed to her greatly; this, she decided, was what she was meant to do. So she was resolved to enter and go through law school and become an attorney. She entered law school with little trouble, and while a student, she heard of Starfleet's Judge Advocate program. She had already toyed with being a Medical Officer, but with her newfound love of law, it seemed a better fit. She could now help keep order and provide legal services to the men and women volunteering their services to the betterment of civilization and knowledge. There was no greater honor. She was accepted to Starfleet Academy and commissioned as a Judge Advocate.
She has been a part of Starfleet for seven years now. She has served on the USS Cancer, Atlantis, and Jupiter.

Skills: Has an engineering background. As a Judge Advocate, she is licensed to practice law on Federation planets. Her legal specialties are Intellectual Property, Operational Law, and Criminal Justice. She is mostly familiar with Earth's legal system, but has working knowledge of other systems of law. But like any lawyer, she knows where to look to find answers for topics she is not aware of. Her fencing gives her knowledge of sword play.
Other: She speaks with a slight southern accent.
Sample Post:

Her desk was the messiest part of her office, with dozens of case files stacked high and deep. A cup of sweet tea was on the far left corner near her, with papers scattered directly in front of her. The rest of the room was organized, five shelves of books dedicated to law, and one containing her engineering books. A fencing saber was held above the desk, a decoration reminding the occupants of her hobby. She sipped her tea, and brushed her finger along the parchment: a witness report of an assault. The defendant had clubbed one of his crew members with a lamp. There was alcohol involved, along with rumors and the affection of another crew member contested, which caused the men to boil over and brawl. She closed the file and rubbed her temples; so long as she could prove that he not only started, but escalated the conflict, it should be a smooth case. She opened the evidence file, glancing over the bottle of alcohol that was being used. "What could be used against me?" She leaned back in her chair in thought. These men were competing for some time. The defendant had no previous record of offenses, much less violent ones. The only people drinking were the defendant and the victim. What if the defendant's drink was spiked? If he was drugged, it would reduce culpability. She stood, quickly and briskly walked out. "Walkers! I want a blood test on the defendant for the lamp case! I also want a test done on the bottle! Now!"

Walkers, her Paralegal, was efficient, and dealt with Catherine's antics, which she appreciated. Her requests were answered with an "Aye, ma'am!", and now it was time for her to wait for the results.

When it was time for the Court Martial, Catherine was finishing presenting the new evidence to the court. "... The defendant was drugged, your Honor. This blood test result shows he was drugged with a hallucinogen to make him aggressive. In his eyes, he wasn't fighting a rival--he was fighting something else. Therefore, the Prosecution believes that the defendant, Brandon Frost, is innocent, his record should be made clean, and he should immediately be placed back on duty."

"In light of this evidence, this court does find the innocent, Brandon Frost, innocent. His record shall be made clean, and Starfleet will assign him to a new ship. This court is adjourned." The gavel rapped, and Catherine sighed, a small smile on her face. Mission accomplished, the system did what the system was supposed to do. A letter was dropped on her table, which made her look up.

"Lieutenant-Commander Bishop, you are now assigned to the USS Orion. You will report to the Captain and present your credentials in a few days."

Her eyes widened and she gripped the letter and ran. "Books! Books! I need my books packed now! Walkers!"

[User]
Lieutenant Brown had parted ways with Poxx at the Transporter Room. The Orion still shook from the damage it had taken whilst Brown was aboard the Jem'Hadar ship but with their Vorta onboard and his First dead the battle was all but done. Dw'kin, Anthony, and the others had transported over before them. The bloodstains along the floor of the Transporter Room no doubt came from Anthony's leg wound. It looked to have bled twice as badly as Brown's arm. He clutched at it as he made his way through the Orion's corridors escorted by a pair of young ensigns. With each step they offered the Security Chief their support but he brushed them aside each time. The blood had soaked through the arm of his uniform and stained a portion of it red. His dark skin looked drained of blood but his feet kept moving all the same.

The doors to the Sick Bay slid open and a wall of noise greeted Brown. Amongst the carnage he noticed a familiar figure departing from the Sick Bay at the other side. It was Captain Vaella.

"Vash," Brown called out as the doors slid shut behind the captain.

Malachi and the captain had a tumultuous relationship at best. He had been with her aboard the Hawk. They had both seen people they cared for and trusted lost. They had both done things that stayed with them until this very day. Brown rarely approved of the captain's methods but she had got them home despite everything. For that the captain had earned Brown's undying loyalty.

On a bed across the room Malachi spotted Anthony with D'wkin beside him and lifted a thumb in their direction. His hand was covered in blood and the Security Officer's weak smile wavered as he felt his legs give out beneath him. He outstretched a hand towards a nearby table to catch his fall and D'wkin bounded towards him to help him to his feet.

"Doctor!"

"I'm fine," Brown muttered as he dragged himself up to his feet. "There's no need to make a scene."

As he secured himself Brown saw the Orion's doctor Carter Cole slip into sight. He was a plain looking man, unspectacular even, but he knew his way around a scalpel like no one that Malachi had ever met.

"What do you reckon, Doc?" Lieutenant Brown said with a feeble smile as he gestured towards his injured arm. "I hope amputation's not on the cards. I don't think Catherine will be able to find another fencing instructor at such short notice."

[Assistant]
"Keep talking and I'll amputate your tongue," Carter hissed as he walked by the big security chief.

All around Sick Bay, doctors and nurses were busy tending to their patients. Dr. Lana, a Klingon surgeon that was arguably the best the ship had to offer, was busy trying to save CHENG Dra'ul from circling the drain. Assisting her was the Orion nurse Dera. A quick inventory told Carter he was the only doctor not engaged in the crisis, the only one not attempting to mind a wounded crewman.

"Your lucky day, Brown," he said as he and D'Wkin got the injured chief to a gurney. "I'm your doctor. Hopefully for you, my hangover isn't that bad."

A quick slice from his laser scalpel cut off the portion of Brown's tunic where the injury lay.

"It looks worse than it is," he said with a glance up towards Brown. "But a few inches to the left and it would have been so much worse. I'm talking major artery and you dead in two minutes flat worse. What hit you, Brown? Be as detailed as possible and be as quick as possible."

[User]
All around them there was movement. Brown wasn't used to being in the Sick Bay at times like these. Usually he was out there, phase in hand, doing the fighting or by Captain Vaella's side on the bridge. He'd seen so much death over the years that he'd almost lost sight of what it meant. Here amongst the Orion's wounded, its women and children, Brown felt uniquely vulnerable. Down here in the Sick Bay he felt mortal.

"One of the Jem'Hadar tagged me with a plasma rifle," Brown mumbled as he played the firefight back in his memory. "Felt like nothing to begin with but the wound won't stop bleeding. Must be some kind of anticoagulant."

The Jem'Hadar were warriors through and through but their choice of ammunition spoke to their true nature. Though they excelled at war the Jem'Hadar's real currency was death. They were killers. It wasn't enough to shoot a man. They wanted to make sure he bled out sooner than allow him to escape. There was no end to the Jem'Hadar's cruelty and Brown himself now found himself on the receiving end of it. The Security Chief smiled weakly as he recalled the Jem'Hadar First falling victim to his cruelty.

Malachi looked to Cole with a grimace. "Do whatever you need to do, Doc."

[Assistant]
"I'm a doctor, not a miracle worker."

Carter injected Brown in the neck with a hypospray. A coagulant shot through the security chief's veins in an effort to counteract whatever the hell he'd been infected with. He looked through the collection of utensils beside the gurney and picked up a small pen like object with a glowing red tip.

"While that serum tries to clot your blood, I'm going to cauterize the wound."

The pen glowed red hot with a high-energy output of several hundred degrees.

"Just lay back and think of England." Carter shifted his mouth and spoke in the posh, upper-crust accent he'd learned. He took a deep breath and prepared to cauterize the wound on Brown's arm. "Stiff upper lip, chap."

[User]
As the pen made contact with Brown's wound he grimaced. Half from the pain and half from Cole's English accent. It wasn't often that Malachi felt homesick but being in the presence of other humans reminded him exactly how far from home they all were. A decade ago he'd been running laps around a park in South London and now here he was. It was surreal to say the least.

"Was the Captain here earlier? I thought I saw her leaving when I came in."

A slight grunt slipped from Brown's lips as the heat intensified. Somehow he could already feel the serum at work beneath his skin.

For a moment Malachi's steely front wavered as his thoughts drifted to Vaella. "She's not hurt, is she?"

[Assistant]
"She's just banged up," Carter mumbled as he worked the laser cauterizer up Brown's arm. "A console or something exploded on the bridge and she was hit by some shrapnel. Cuts, burnt skin, and some shrapnel in her arm. You're worst for the wear than she is."

Carter pulled the pen away from Brown's arm and inspected his handiwork. A two-inch vertical line of burnt flesh went up the security chief's arm. He looked closely at the now closed wound and was satisfied that it was neat and straight.

"Doctor Cole," one of the nurses called. "We need you over here."

"Stay here," Carter said, pointing at Brown to accentuate his point. "The wound is closed but that serum I injected into you may take some time to work. In order to prevent any internally bleeding, you need to stay still and let it do its work."

Carter gave the security chief one last, long look before he went away to solve the next crisis awaiting him.

[User] Catherine woke up in the medical bay groggily and with a minor dull ache in her head, her eyes trying to adjust to the damnably bright lights in the room and all of the yelling and shouting. She remembered being flung to the ground, but she did not know what happened next. Her tongue brushed along the inside of her mouth: good. She did not bite her tongue off and did not bite anything off inside her mouth. Either that or the drugs she could be on were quite excellent. She tested her limbs slowly, making them twitch and fingers clenching and unclenching. It was then she noticed she was quite parched. "W... May I please have some water?" She cleared her throat and swallows to get some hoarseness out. "How long was I out? Do I have a concussion?"