[System]
___> Accessing Special Operations Command Database and Archives. We serve through vigilance and sacrifice
___> Access Daedalus Initiative
___> Warning these files are restricted please enter password.
___> ******************
___> Welcome Project Director Iqbal. What do you need today?
___> Accessing Personal Files
___> Warning files corrupted manual restart required.

---

Character Sheets
Appearance:
What they look like as grown soldiers at the age of eighteen not as children. Mind you due to their genetic engineering a Daedalus child at the age of thirteen will have a comparative physique and size of an Olympic athlete so they don't look young. By the age of eighteen they are towering giants almost seven feet tall and can kill a man with ease. a written description can go under it if you want.
Call sign:
ID TAG:
(A Six digit number unique to each and every member of Daedalus)
Gender:

Psychological Record:(What makes them tick?)
The First Ten Years:
(The RP starts with the children about at the age of ten when their training really kicks into high gear. So I'm going to need you to tell me about their first ten years of training on Haoma. What classes did they like, what did they excel at, what were they bad at. Anything life altering happen like witnessing a fellow child die or something? You can keep this brief or make it long it is really up to you. I just need to have a good feeling of your characters.)
Cybernetic Augmentations:
(All of the soldiers are genetically augmented to be better, faster and stronger as Daft Punk might say but some are also cybernetically augmented with robot parts to help in their designated roles

Combat Role:
(What do they specialize in?)
 Loadout:
(What weapons and equipemnt do they usually carry with them to complete their job. All soldiers are equipped with two smoke and two fragmentation grenades, a combat knife and a medical gel injector.)

---

NPCS

One of the head researcher of Military Technologies division and the now current head of the Daedalus Project. A small and thin man eighty years of age, prefers the use of the wheelchair instead of using his cybernetic legs. A fair man to his employees and tries his best to be kind and moderate to the children of the Daedalus project. Never not seen in a form fitting three piece suit.

Current head of Special Operations Command and as a result one of the most important people in the entire Union. Doctor Amman's boss and the man who has invested a lot of military resources into getting Daedalus off the ground.

SOC military adviser sent by Admiral Crane to follow and observe the growth of his super soldiers to make sure that they reach their standards.

Jerome Castle is the man that SOC had entrusted in making sure that their super soldiers got the best damn training this side of the galaxy. A highly decorated veteran if Mr. Castle knows one thing it would be war.

---

Alpha Company
To Be Updated

[User]
Liu listened on carefully as his team mates spoke, nodding as he heard the issues his various team mates spoke of -- which essentially boiled down to, "we're shit at working together and communicating!" Of course, Liu would never say that in front of his team mates -- his allies. Instead of commenting on their faults and criticizing them as a group, he had found that his team mates had... already done that. So, for this conversation, he took a rather supportive stand from the sidelines.

"Let's try harder next time, guys!" Liu said, his innocent per-pubescent voice being slightly louder than usual. "I know we can do it!" Liu grinned as his head and eyes shifted from person to person, wanting to make sure that each of his team mates heard him. After he had grinned at everyone for a few seconds, he moved his head back, his eyes staring at the pack of the person in front of him.

"Let's beat them next time!" Liu stated as an after thought before his gaze suddenly dropped to the ground, his grin seemingly disappearing. His mind began to replay the memories of the Capture the Flag game between Squadron 1 and Squadron 20. He began to scowl, moving his finger to his cheek as he slowly remembered how horrendous the game went, how horribly Liu had acted during the whole game. He had ran off on his own, trying to scout out Squadron 20 as he moved quickly throughout the "battlefield." As soon as he had caught glimpse of Squadron 20, he could remember one of them saying out the three lettered acronym, causing Liu to go needlessly crazy.

He clenched both of his fists as he stared at the ground. Liu had an unnecessary hatred for them. He couldn't exactly explain it, but he hated them. He wanted nothing more than to destroy the planet that they inhibited, because how could they? How could they betray their own kind, shoot at their own kind first without any sort of hesitation? After all humankind has gone through, there now had to be another rift?

Liu shook his head violently, trying to regain his thoughts on Squadron 20 as he stared at the ground. Perhaps if Liu hadn't gone crazy, maybe the game would have gone differently, maybe they would have won.

But they didn't. They didn't, and it was all because of that damned dog in Squadron 20.

Liu's head slowly rose, his grin having disappeared only to be replaced by an grimace. "Because I want to destroy them."

[Assistant]
Francis Newman - Another morning, Another day at Haoma

The morning was cold enough not to be too unbearable for Squad 1, yet not too comfortable especially with the extra ten kilograms which was tightly strapped to Francis's waist, a terrible repercussion which served as punishment for losing a game of Capture the Flag against squadron 20, apart from their "personal issues." Though it certainly wasn't his fault for his fellow "comrades" being as simple-minded or even hot-head as they were but that was the life of working in a squad, if only he could work alone. In solitude, he could find himself not being limited by a such a nuisance. If only they were to his level. Why of all people should he be subjected to punishment when it was clearly their insolence and insouciant behavior such which everyone including him in trouble? Luckily, however, it was only a morning run. If it hadn't been, the heat would definitely done some significant physical damage or bring back terrible memories of poor boy's friends dying of heat stroke. Although running at 4am was certainly much better than running in the middle of the day where he would sweat so bad, it would soak his entire gear and make him, and the others, smell of a very terrible odor which lasted for days.

During the jog, like always, the team spoke among themselves while the boy remained utterly silent, and never uttered a single word or even so much as even a gesture of complaining as he always did most of the time. Not only did the silent, intelligent young soldier had a disdain for people and small "chit-chat", he always found that his words could potentially harbor his own weakness and expose himself to his enemies, whoever they may be among his own squadron. All of these were mainly the reasons for residing in the privy in his own thoughts while his comrades spoke among themselves, as he could truly care less about what they think about him or anything at all.

But thirty-three Kilometers? In under an hour?! He egregiously thought to himself, while the weight of his belt quickly shifted up and down which seemed pull on him while he jogged behind the others discreetly, trying not to be noticed. An extra ten kilograms certainly wouldn't hurt him, although they were quite a lot but he found no true reason to complain; Either you run the day, or the day ran you. Although this is much different than what he was used to. Nonetheless, Francis found himself jogging at a somewhat reasonable pace before finding some comfort during the vigorous morning run and the number of kilometers he had to travel (which itself happened to be a number divisible by three) - All while he made the calculations in his head to assure that he was not only running a pace which would most certainly bring the most desired outcome for the squad and himself which of course included taking an amount of steps which were divisible by three by the time he got back to stretch afterwards for a cool down. Francis jogged along the rough, dirt road, behind the squad, yet not too far or even directly behind them to the point where dirt would be kicked in his face or his PT gear. There definitely wasn't a problem in being behind, just as long as he could maybe show off a little and sprint ahead of them towards the end of the track. This habit was what he loved being in endurance runs as as was habitual for Francis, at least this way he could easily spread his legs far enough in order to assure that he definitely ran a number of steps which, again, were divisible by three, a number he never feels comfortable without. Although there were quite a lot of things Francis found unsavory.

First off, Francis hated cadence. Mainly because it threw off his careful counting as he realized that the number of steps he would take were not taken into account before he went to the finish line to condition. The obsessive compulsive could easily find himself in an even, prime, or any other number that wasn't divisible by three by accident which would make him feel uneasy; though accidental whole numbers which weren't in threes weren't as terrifying to Francis as fractions or even worse: Infinitesimals, the worst but most interesting number of all. Then were the incompetent "initiates" he worked with and their "personal issues" as Castle would put it, but if there was one thing he could be fond of, it was Valke's sophomoric sense of optimism. Although he truly never found Alex funny in any sense, especially when he began to mimic voices in falsetto which he found incredibly annoying, it still was nice to see someone with not with such an aggressive behavior as the rest of the initiates in his squadron. There was some aspects about the soldier which he honestly found quite fond of such as his joyfully simple pleasures in life, a care-free attitude and most importantly, his seemingly trustworthiness, and how connected he felt around him which make the young troubled boy feel at ease since the time his two friends died tragically of heat stroke. But if there was one thing that they all had in common, it was the hatred each one of them shared, which was that "prick commander" Castle and their rivals, squadron 20. Francis did his best to remain quiet while he ran a good pace along the track slightly behind his fellow comrades.

[User]
Daedalus Complex
Haoma
12:00 PM
One Month Later

The children of Squadron 1 and Squadron 20 stood at attention in front of the capture the flag area. In front of them sat a squat small square shack known as Base 1, further down through the forest was Base 2 the two buildings serving as the respective bases for the teams during the game. The two squadrons have been looking forward for this rematch for awhile, Squadron 1 and Squadron 20 had a sort of rivalry against one another that stretched all the way in the beginning when Squadron 1 beat Squadron 20 in the obstacle course test that started in the first week of training. Squadron 1 wanted to reclaim their honor from last month's terrible defeat and subsequent month long training from hell from Castle as a result. Squadron 20 wanted to shove another victory in the faces of their enemies because winning against even total losers was always fun. While one would expect them to be talking amongst themselves or even throwing insults at the other team they both sat silently at attention their training have priority over petty rivalries no matter how much the opposite seemed to be. Somewhere they knew the rest of the children in the Daedalus program were watching, the big games always being broadcasted in the instruction room were the rest would sat and watch to take notes upon tactics and see where other squads went wrong. Though in this case it was less of a training simulation and more of hte blood sport that was about to go down in the big One versus Twenty rivalry.

Stern footsteps approached them and Soon with a Castle was there with a few of his helpers. The helpers began to hand out the gear to the students no protective equipment, they only had a sensor to detect when they were hit and apply a shock to the body temporarily paralyzing them and putting them in the "dead state" and practice rifles basically high velocity rubber bullet firing rifles that could deal the same pain of an actual bullet with none of the damage so the children were acclimated to the sensation of being shot. As they suited up Castle watched silent his hands behind his back waiting for them to get ready. His stern gaze watching them as a hawke would watch their prey, he had high expectation today for both teams but more so for Squadron 1 to redeem themselves for the horrible showing that they had last time. The entire team was made up of excellent individuals who were great at their respective jobs but together they just seemed to not be able to the rhythm they needed. Teamwork was even more important than individual skill when push came to shove and if they didn't have that they woudl get slaughtered in active combat. As they finished he spoke to the explaining today's game. "Hello recruits. You both know why you are here, one group to restore their honor and the other to maintain it. But today maggots we are doing changing things up on you because we love you all that much. Today is not the normal game of capture the flag you have been accustomed to. Today each team does not have two flags, today only squadron 1 has a flag that they must defend from Squadron 20. This flag is also not a flag that you have become accustomed to, today it is not cloth, today it is made of flesh. Frisk front and center!"

Out from Squadron Twenty Line came a girl with short blonde hair and bright blue eyes who approached the center almost meekly. Astrid Frisk the de facto leader of Squadron Twenty. A fairly standard girl for the most part she had a brilliant tactical mind and was known with dread by some of the other teams at how effectively she would shred through their defenses. She stood in front of castle who looked down at her as she spoke up. "Astrid Frisk reporting for duty sir!"

"Frisk congratulations today you get to be a flag." He explained with an amount of dry amusement to his voice as he produced a set of heavy shackles that he attached to her hands. She looked at him almost confused, looking back at her own team who looked back at her stoically. Castle gestured towards Squadron 1 pushing her along into the group where she stood awkwardly to the side. "Alright everybody standard rules apply you have one hour to prepare yourself, can't leave the designated area or else the sensors will shock you anyway, don't die etcetera. Now since Squadron Twenty one the last match it means that Squadron One is going to have to talk the walk to Base 2. NOW MOVE IT!"

Base 2
Haoma
12:10 PM

Squadron 1 stood in front of the small shack painted blue that was considered Base 21. They were devising of plan for the coming attack talking amongst themselves. Astrid was sitting in the shack thinking to herself as she listened to them talk. They were arguing about how to set up there defensives properly and the best plan to make sure that Squadron Twenty did not win again. She let out a sigh knocking her head against the back of the shack. She listened to there conversation and wondered to herself silently how they got anything done because it seemed whenever it came down to brass tacits everyone had a plan and all they did was argue without ever coming to a consensus. She wondered how her own squad was doing they probably already had a plan, they knew how each of the squads worked so it was just a matter of exploiting their own weakness against them. Squadron 1 was easy then, all you did was attack like a team against them and their patchwork defenses would fall apart as they all scrambled to do their own thing. She shook her head trying to get a stray tuft of hair out of her face as she muttered to herself under her breath loud enough so that those more perceptive would be able to make out the exact words. "A defensive strategy isn't going to work."


[System]
Female
Age 24
Appearance
5'6"
Lean flexible athletic build
Light skin (Japanese)
Appears to have shoulder length jet black slightly spikey hair from the front. However her hair splits into parts, taking the longer half and tying it together at the neck into a downwards facing ponytail that reaches her middle back.
Medium sized ahoge, more of angular/rigid spike shape, changes based on their mood/emotions. And electrical charge in battle.
Dark drab blueish-gray/steel left eye.
Yellow right eye with a slit shaped pupil.
Eyebrow over her left eye has a slit break in it towards the outer middle.
Irezumi tattoos:
Right arm- Nagasode style sleeve tattoo extending down to her wrist. Nara black wind bars for a background, with a green snake with a red belly coiling down her arm with it's head ending at her outer wrist.
Left arm- Shichibu style sleeve tattoo extending down to her middle forearm. Nara black wind bars for a background, with a blue snake with a yellow belly coiling up her arm with it's head resting on the front of her upper shoulder. Kanji for Mamushi 蝮 (pit viper) tattooed in black on the inner blank space of her forearm.
Back- Her entire back is covered in large nara black ink clouds for a background. And a large tattoo of the giant 8 headed and tailed snake Yamata no Orochi, various flowers, and lightning bolts in the foreground.
Slightly elongated fang canine teeth on the top and bottom as compared to normal people. Teeth are overall sharper.
Ear piercings- Left: Two slim steel rings on their lobe. Helix cuff.
Right: Circular silver stud on their lobe. Smaller steel cuff at the middle of the outer ear/lower helix.
Black painted nails.

Customized slightly oversized black leather asymmetrical moto jacket. Worn unzipped with belt hanging loose.
Steel curb chain necklace that extends down to her chest. Medium sized silver upside down cross pendant.
Zip-up black hoodie. Worn under her jacket with the hood laid over the jackets collar. Worn unzipped often with the sleeves pulled up to her elbows.
Vintage oversized heavy metal band T-shirts, some with the sleeves cut off. Worn over fishnet shirt. (Metallica, Slayer, Iron Maiden, Led Zeppelin, Megadeth)
Long sleeve black fishnet shirt. Sleeve extends into a fishnet fingerless gloves on the left but is cut off at the wrist on the right.
Silver signet ring on right middle finger with an upside down cross engraved in it.
Mokume-gane Ouroboros shaped ring with pink jeweled eyes on left index finger.
Steel cuban link chain bracelet on right wrist.
Steel studded black leather belt.
Steel chain hanging down at her right side. One end attached to a belt loop, the other to a pocket watch manadial.
Worn/faded slim dark indigo Japanese selvage denim jeans. (Black or stonewash alt. colors)
Black with white accents Onitsuka Tiger Mexico 66 running shoes.
Black calf length open toe and heel socks.

Secondary hairstyle reference (Somewhere in between the two)

Close type of ponytail style reference

Raiya specializes in destructive magic. She is a master of electrical spells, and ruinous spells. She has a great foundation in most all Catholic magics as well as some Japanese Zen Buddhist/Shinto magic. As with her fascination of Japan, she also has a great fascination with snakes and has developed snake themed fighting style and magic. Every so often she sheds her skin, this makes her immune to aging. With her magic powers, she also has the ability to control certain light metals.

Raiya's parents, Japanese immigrants, owned a successful Japanese cuisine restaurant chain in New York City. Both parents died in a burglary gone wrong leaving Raiya orphaned in infancy. With a large mana constitution, Raiya was immediately adopted by the Catholic cathedral and put into mage training. Growing up in the New York Cathedral, she always shadowed Felix and thought of him as her older brother. Raiya was always proficient in magic, and her studies reflected that. Raiya achieved the rank Grand-Mage at the age of seventeen. At the age of twenty she was sent with two other grand-magi to investigate the sudden disappearance of a remote village in Italy. The village was razed, not so much as a 2x4 left standing upright. Investigating the trace of mana waves left by the spell she made her way to a nearby mountain where she found on a cliff-side the definite point of origin of the spell. Looking around the point of origin she found footprints. The foot prints looked exactly like the sole tread of a typical Catholic Magi officer. The level of destruction and the fact that the mana waves left by the spell accounted for only one spell, coupled with the footprint meant the evidence pointed toward an Arch-mage or higher to be the cause of the destruction. Once she returned to the Vatican, she provided the evidence in a council meeting. The council thanked her for the evidence provided but stated that they would be conducting the investigation from then on. Even though the council told her to no longer investigate this issue, Raiya continued the investigation on her own. Looking into the records of those who were gone the night of the destruction of the remote village, she narrowed it down to two, Arch-mage Thadeus and Arch-mage Felix. After obtaining this information, Raiya investigated both Thadues and Felix's living quarters. She discovered that Felix had never even worn his uniform boots, as he wore his own more comfortable combat boots. Thadeus, on the other hand, did not have any other pairs of footwear besides the ones on his feet, which were the uniform boots. Learning of this information but knowing the Vatican council would never listen to her, she approached Felix whom she knew was innocent. She told Felix all of the information she had obtained, but Felix brushed her aside saying that the Vatican was conducting their own investigation and to go against their demands to keep the investigation within their selected team would mean excommunication, even if the information was correct. Felix told her that he would not tell anyone about her own investigation, but pleaded with her to keep quiet about the issue until the Vatican completed their investigation. Raiya couldn't believe what she was hearing, that her cold hard evidence was being brushed aside because of protocol. But what's more, that the investigation team was comprised with Thadeus's brother as a member meant surely that Thadeus would never be convicted of this crime. All of this put into perspective Raiya's membership with the magi, and soon after she left the magi and Catholicism altogether. When she left two others left with her, the other two grand-magi that were on her initial investigation team with her. Soon after they left, they returned to NYC. Because the Vatican saw them as Apostates, they froze all their accounts and social security information, forcing them to make money through means less savory. Instead of falling into despair, Raiya and her two peers adopted the shady lifestyle altogether. Through their magic abilities, it wasn't long before they were running the biggest criminal organization in NYC. Raiya still resides to this day in NYC with the other two magi as her right hand women.

Raiya is seemingly devoid of any positive emotion. Her normal demeanor could be described as aloof. She is seen as a hard nosed, unwavering leader. This makes her well respected by her subordinates in the gang she runs. Though, to those who know her well enough she can be lighthearted. She has a short temper and a low tolerance for annoyances. In her annoyed state she has no problem threatening her friends with one of her sushi knives she keeps in her inner coat pocket, or electrocuting them with her magic. She loves Japan, even though she wasn't raised there herself. Her fanaticism for Japan runs so deep that she has Japanese tattoos, and has even taught herself the language perfectly. She is an excellent chef and specializes in Japanese cuisine. Even though she isn't very sociable, the few friends she does have are kept close to her and she protects them.

[User]
Lori suddenly felt like somebody had turned off all the lights, she knew she had been blinded. But after hastily applying powder to her face that looked just like the anti-magic powder Roy had used early, she found her vision had returned for good. She quickly looked back down her scope, still seeing nobody out in the open. The hindrance had caused her to miss Raiya falling in her trap however, until the electric charge went off.

Knowing that Raiya had fallen in the stasis rune, Lori considered what to do next. She decided instead of trying to finish her off, she'd wait and see if any of the other intruders would make any erratic moves to try to save her, putting them out in the open for an easy shot. After all, Raiya wasn't going anywhere soon.

---

The charge had alerted Nemo, and after he peaked his head out for a quick look he was able to discern what had happened. Once Travis finished his status update, Nemo brought his own manadial up to his lips and whispered back. "Try to draw her fire and it should distract her long enough for me to get a shot off. Don't worry, I'll only need one." Nemo un-slung his rifle from his back and waited for Travis to make a move. Raiya's predicament meant they were no longer able to take it slow.

[Assistant]
"It better count," Travis replied back to Nemo, sounding almost hesitant and uncertain but committed the to the task at hand.

With a sigh, he withdrew his left hand back and quickly curled his fingers fist, crushing the design of the circle and thus cancelling out his spell. In moments, color and sight soon returned to his right eye though he blinked repeatedly to wear off the negative perception he still retained. If it weren't for its usefulness, Travis would have reconsidered dabbing into the darker arte; the spell itself presented an experience he struggled with appreciating. Quite simply, it made him uneasy tapping into a vision of a mirroring realm that perceives his reality in much different light.

Recomposing himself, Travis prepared his distraction and focused on the mana pooling into his right hand. While his runes were efficient in consuming the minimal of his reserves, they still demanded quite a bit of focus in generating, especially if there was a large number of them. For his next act, he was going to cast as many of his own lightning and backdraft spells from different intervals as he could just long enough to drawn Lori's attention to him. He knew where the summon them but the matter at hand was doing so without being spotted; a risk he didn't fancy making.

"Well, here goes nothing," he said with his head resting against the container, eyes closed before drawing a big breath and shooting off from his position and quickly leaned around the container and began casting.

Travis inserted each of his runes ahead of him, half exposed within the cover he had chosen to establish them in. His gamble was tricking Lori in directing her attention to what looked like a number of intruders attempting to engage her. Given the range and conditions, Travis was almost certain that his ploy wouldn't pose too much of a threat unless he got lucky with one of the spells.

After inserting his runes, had released a slight pulse of mana out, triggering each of the runes nearest to him to go off. Travis then broke cover and ran forward, causing each new rune to go off until he dove for the nearest container. The runes that were now active, while aimed at Lori, fired off without hardly any concentration back up their efficiently. Bursts of fire would have dispersed before even charging the outpost while streaks of lighting attempting to lash out either fell short or whizzed past harmlessly toward any attracing conductors.

[User]
Travis' distraction garnered Lori's attention, she quickly adjusted his rifle to spot him. She figured that he was making a final move to try to save his trapped comrade, just as she had anticipated. However just before she could fire her runic musket, Travis' runes began to discharge. While they didn't hit her from her outpost, the bright lightning disorienting her scope, throwing off her aim on Travis. She fired nonetheless, sending another heavy explosive round down range at him as he made his way towards his next cover.

---

As soon as Nemo heard the first sound of Travis making his move, he took a deep breath and popped out from his cover with his rifle shouldered. Moments later he fired off his own shot roughly at the same time Lori executed her own, though the sound of Nemo's was significantly dampened by the suppressor.

The distance between Nemo and Lori made seeing or hearing the results of his attack nearly impossible, except for the abrupt absence of the glint of her scope. However to Raiya, she would be able to hear the sudden break and crack of glass after the whizzing of the single bullet. Nemo didn't miss, his bullet had traveled the full way before piercing straight through Lori's rifle-scope, the only thing Nemo could see from his position.

Nemo immediately began to walk towards the outpost, using the bolt of his rifle to cycle another round in. Even without any real confirmation on his hit he seemed confident there wouldn't be any more attacks on the group. The silent stroll allowed Nemo to notice the storm had been picking up even more, causing the ship to rock in every direction from the tides. The rain and wind began to increase as well, making it harder to see. But by his guess, they still hadn't reached the threshold that would bring them to the paragon yet.

Soon enough Nemo reached the outpost, finding Raiya in her suspended state. "Looks like you're in a bit of a sticky situation, huh?." Nemo commented as he walked up and used his gloved hand to touch the magically effected area, causing the spell to gradually dissipate in a wave until Raiya was freed. "Just because I said I'd protect you doesn't mean you should be so reckless." He added before he began a trek up the outpost stairs to check for the body.

[Assistant]
Raiya let out a grunt of irritation at Nemo's pun. After he released the rune, Raiya fell down, exhausted from being essentially paralyzed. Raiya knew Nemo was right about her acting reckless. In fact, this entire mission was just her messing up time and time again and it was starting to weigh her down. "Damnit..." She cursed under her breath as she picked herself up off the ground and brushed herself off. Instead of dwelling on her mistakes she decided to just force herself forward, she'd have all the time in the world to pick herself apart after they got the paragon and returned. She followed Nemo up the stairs as he began to walk towards the outpost. She also made sure to keep her eyes especially peeled for any more traps, her most recent encounter with runes kept her on edge as they walked forward.

"What happened?" She asked curiously as they walked towards the outpost, "Did you guys take the sniper out?" She said as she conjoured her pistol in her right hand.


[System]
Age: Appears 22
Race: Appears human
Home Planet: Theonia Z17, Galaxy Theon
Skills: To be roleplayed
Hobbies: People watching, dancing in the rain, going to plays/operas.
Job: To be roleplayed
Rank: N/A
Likes: Fall, rain and thunderstorms, blue and silver, animals, coffee and wine.
Dislikes: Tbr
Appearance:

Other:
Backstory: To be roleplayed

[User]
"Do you all actually think we have fucking time to stop by all of your ships!? The planet is fucking being destroyed you dickweeds!" Xael growled, the sound echoing through the cockpit as she sat down after Cel moved from the chair. She tried to ignore the other guy's comments. Obviously his little robot buddy didn't know shit because Xael's ship was one of the best live in ships from her planet. Sure, maybe it wasn't built for war, but that wasn't what she was about. Either way, it pissed her off, and her eyes flashed a bright blue before returning to the normal blue.

"I can fix that up for you if you would like. Make it just like new." Cel said, offering to heal the wound at the back of her head. She would need to shower to get the blood out of her hair, and figured if he could fix the problem, she might as well let him, despite being annoyed.

"Sure, I guess. In the meantime, you can explain to me about your mob boss conversation while we get to safety."

[Assistant]
Orion brought up a picture of docking bay November. Well, what used to be it. The bay was completely obliterated and as to be expected, no interceptor. "Damn" cursed Orion slamming his fist on ACE. ACE jolted from the shock of his steel fist resetting to ensure his system would remain running without any bugs. The screen tripped and what must have been a firewall was bypassed on the ships screen.

 Nice trick. Wonder what else is hidden behind here. He thought better as the last thing he needed was to tell that girl what she didn't want to hear or see and I'm sure she wouldn't want him snooping so he pulled ACE out and directed him to find a place and to enter standby mode.

 "Relax blue eyes, it must have been this rust bucket over here, I'll get him to fix that up when he can" proclaimed Orion. "Anyways my ships toast so there's no need to be concerned however before we start making plans maybe we better figure out what the hell is going on out there cause I ain't got a clue."

[User]
Ursa turned to Cel after he came back from fixing his hair, her focus clearly on keeping the ship from getting blown to bits or hit. She listened to his thoughts and nodded, "Oh I don't doubt that. Someone wants him dead and on top of this evacuation, it all seems a bit coincidental."

She geared right, the ship shaking slightly as she moved her focus from Cel to the sky 'road.' She heard Cel's request and turned around quickly, "Oh right away your majesty. You just sit there looking pretty."

She smirked at the new girl's comment, pulling up as they narrowly missed a Raxer 900 superspeeder.

She grumbled turning back to hit a few buttons, "Thankyou..Let's just see if we get out of here with this ship intact then we can see about getting your vessel. Okay?"

She turned to Orion as he brought up an image of the newly destroyed bay. Ursa ignored Orion's rage at Ace her thoughts moving to the port beneath her. Beside the bay was an orphanage called Red Tides. She knew of it because the kids there she would use to help her catch intel for the Draconians. Phobos was a rough place to live, but the kids didn't know any better. And now they never will.. She let out a soft breath, narrowing her eyes as she looked at the sky, hearing Orion's wish to find out what's happening, "I think it's about time we find out. I'm done with this crowd."

She hit the gas and shot up, breaking out of the traffic to sore through the skies up towards the airlock. Ahead of them large cruisers and smaller personal space yachts were scattered, heading for the airlock as they tried to dodge large blasts. Ursa stayed calm, rolling back and forth as she twisted through spaces just big enough for her vehicle, to push through. Suddenly a blast came to the upper pocket and she was pushed to the left slamming into a deep grey spacecraft. It flew back hitting two more vehicles as they fell back to the blackened Phobos. Ursa pulled back grunting as she tried to regain control. She went against the current, barely hitting another speeder before pulling back. Moving again through the cracks before finally, she could see the entryway. She plowed through her eyes narrowing as she swore, "The blasts are aimed. They aren't random...They are trying to shoot civilians?!"

She looked around at the cruisers that seemed big enough to take enough damage. She rolled past a Draconian styled yacht, and shot up towards the other side of a cruiser, leaving a very narrow space of escape. It would allow them to clear the air-lock and keep them out of range of the blasts, but it would be close. She knew that if they missed they would be dead, either crushed by the cruiser or smashed into the edge or another spacecraft. She smirked, letting anyone see the intention on her face. One of both wild abandon and delusion, before she sang out quickly an old earth song by Kansas, "CARRY ON MY WAYWARD SON, THERE WILL BE PEACE WHEN YOU ARE DONE! LAY YOUR WEARY HEAD TO REST!!! DON'T YOU CRY NO MORE!! HOLD ON!"

She floored it, a cry of fearless abandon escaping her, as she lost herself in her own personal melody. She kicked the ship into high gear as the air in the craft pulled whatever wasn't nailed down across the room. She clenched the controls hard, her hat flying off of her head as she wrenched the craft a hard left as it rolled around facing Phobos. Moving backward, she swung it up into a vertical angle, her hair flying downwards as they slid just narrowly past the cruiser, and the airlock. She hit the controls to prep the vehicle for space travel and set her right side up, moving up the edge of the cruiser before she slowed, hoping to stay behind it as they came to see what was shooting them.

Ursa let out a breath and turned to look at her companions, whom to her seemed a bit disheveled with the ships drastic twists, "Made it."

She smiled wide as if she didn't just almost kill them before she turned back to the screen, pressing a button so that the windows were open to open space just as they began to slowly see what was shooting Phobos. Her eyes grew wide as she tried to understand what she was seeing, "What type of ship is that???"

[Assistant]
Cel winked at the girl before leaving to find a seat. "Once we're out of this mess I'll clean you up and make that better. I'll do my best to explain any questions you may have for me." He smiled at her then left. In the next room he found a spot to sit and buckle up. Knowing Ursa, she was going to fly like crazy. He held on tight as She flew them out of Phobos and into the atmosphere. Hell still raining down On the ground below. Cel has been in some shit before but nothing like this. Who would go this far to find one person? Right now that didn't matter. All he could think about was if anyone was going to make it and how he was going to threaten Orion. That man knew something and Celebrimbor knew that he did, otherwise there wouldn't have been a bullet shot at him.

The craft tossed around as Ursa was dodging out of the way and with this, Cel's hair got all messed up again. "Why do I even try?" He groaned to himself as his hair waved around like crazy. "Maybe I'll just chop it all off." He thought to himself then instantly laughed "Yeah fuck that." He laughed some more as the ship started to slow down as it reached space. Cel could hear Ursa's what was that and came running. He didn't even have to ask when he saw the massive ship raining hell on the planet. This was it, he had to have answers and now. Cel Spun around to find Orion and drag him to the cockpit. It didn't take long for Cel long to find him, for he was basically where he was before. "You. Come with me now. He spoke deeply, sounding very irritated and pissed. He lead Orion to where Ursa was. "If you want to go any farther, you will explain to me what that is and why the hell it is after you.

[User]
Dragged up to the cockpit Orion looked up through the perspex glass in astonishment. "It can't be, that's impossible!"

 Eclipsed by Saturn and looming ominous like a demon backlit by flames was a space fortress of monstrous proportions. Gothic in architecture the fortress' midsection was slowly rotating clockwise while the upper and lower sections were rotating in the opposite direction to compensate for the loss of gravity in space. A ship of that size simply could not have enough gravimetric pods to safely create artificial gravity like capital ships could. Large bursts of flame erupted from 4 long apertures in the midsection which rained down upon the moon of Phobos' primary Colony station. Other bright flashes of light erupted as capital guns fired in addition with an engaged Phobos Fleet. Popping on the fortress' surface on what looked like a rippling bubble was the return fire from the fleet. Splashes of purple and green in what seemed an attack of such insignificance.

 "I will crush you as if you were but an ant under my thumb" thought Orion. ACE cut through the silence in response to Celebrimbors accusatory remarks with a cold explanation. "A planetary station originally designed for protection and interstellar trade, Nimbus Point One or NP1 was once an experimental hub designed for the Valorians stationed off the Gates of Auriga. An attack by Rulons with the intent as a first and last strike measure decimated a large portion of the Valorian fleet who were charged with protecting the station. Caught off guard and outgunned the Valorians fought a defensive battle but attrition took its toll. Time was desperately needed to stave off combined attacks on the station. Unknown to most people the station had many experimental weapons and even were testing Dark Void technology."

 Orion interrupted visibly shaken "In an effort to try to salvage lives and technology the Admiral of the station shifted orbit to shield what little was left of the fleet. Several of the larger ships who were transporting civilians used the stations experimental Dark Void and disappeared. I had a hand in designing some of the weapons and even drew up a rough sketch of a rotating payload delivery system to get dropships on planet surfaces faster and safer."  He paused and whispered "Is evil something you are? or something you do?". Raising his voice "It cant be though. Those initial drawings were on the Sagittarius and that ship disappeared into the void and that station was destroyed!" Slamming his fist on the control panel, sadness giving rise to anger "and my sister gave her life to make sure of that!"

 Eyes watering from a flashback of his sisters mayday message hanging in his head Orion looked away from the party and out onto the maelstrom in front of him. "I don't know what else to say." Composed he looked back towards Celebrimbor intently. "I don't believe it would be after me? It makes no sense. Nothing does. Did you see the round that sniper used? A flechette round. Whoever wanted me dead also wanted my body found and wanted me to be recognized, publicly displayed but perhaps by someone with motive not to show me disfigured. Not a simple blow the back of my head off dirty kill. This was meticulous and this was calculated. It just doesn't make sense someone would go to the trouble and then order an orbital bombardment. No, this must be something else. That ship shouldn't even exist. Those weapons seem designed for an assault on the colony station itself."  He paused hoping Cel would let his statement sink in before reacting he mentioned to ACE "Can you identify the ships name or callsign?"

 Orion stabilized himself as Ursa rocked the ship back towards Phobos in an effort to dodge a civilian Caravelle, its cockpit shattered and bodies floating into space; the moon appeared to be cracking from the continuous concussive force from the fortresses main guns. The colony station was in flames and few ships were coming out of the makeshift atmosphere anymore. In space, the ship was avoiding debris from all manner of destroyed imperial and private ships alike. Swarms of coordinated strikes seemed to be occurring on larger vessels, even ones that obviously had no defensive weapons and were purely civilian. The military channels were a cacophony of chatter, screams and calls for help went unanswered. Phobos was no more. The moon seemed to shudder before seemingly expunging a 1/3 of it's surface in opposite directions with light appearing from Saturn through the moons broken core.

 In the quiet moments that followed while the members looked out in awe at such a destructive force , blue light rippled from the massive station outwards. It flowed like a phosphorescent wake creating darkness where once there was light. Ships in the distance their drives burning bright turned to black and appeared to lose control. Using the shipboard computers ACE quickly scanned the behemoth "Class unidentified...technology unidentified...weapons unidentified...name identified...origin identified...previous location unidentified...presence of a gravimetric well increasing...". The wave got closer as some ships initiated their hyperdrives and escaped to long distant places. Orion cut ACE off before he could finish "Shut it down! Shut it all down now or were all dead!"

Schematic

[Assistant]
Xael glanced at Ursa, who was expertly controlling her vessel. She was weaving in and out of spaces between other ships, rubble and people. She felt safe and despite not knowing this person from any universe, she was going to put her trust in her. They needed to get into hyperdrive as quickly as possible, but unfortunately that came with risks since there were new people around. Usually Xael never flew with others so it never mattered until this moment. But, it was her identity or their lives. She furrowed her brow slightly and moved to stand in front of Ursa. Xael was short enough that if she bent her knees, Ursa would be able to see over her.

Xael breathed in deeply and stared at the dashboard. She reached out, pressing some tiny buttons that were almost invisible to anyone else. After inputting the sequence, a little thin piece of metal popped up from a hidden compartment. It was in the shape of a T and along the top held two small black holes. It held two tiny eye scanners. Xaels appearance shifted then. But if you blinked you wouldn't have noticed. The mechanism scanned her eyes and retreated back to it hiding place. Within a few seconds the hyperdrive was activated, and Xael shifted out of the way again, watching Cel drag Orion toward the cockpit, asking him to explain.

While Xael was listening, her mouth dropped open slightly in shock and she for a moment couldn't believe what type of people she had gotten herself involved in. Shaking her head, she turned to Orion.

"Well, if you created the blueprint for this ship, you must know it's weak spots? What can we do besides escape? Is there anything we can do? We have to do something!"


[System]
Male
Looks about 30
Appearance
6'0"
Pale white skin.
White irises. Edges around his eyes are naturally often dark. Giving him the appearance of having eyeliner.
Messy slightly below shoulder length wavy white hair. Long bangs that often get in his eyes. Two engraved cylindrical medium length silver hair beads, one on the right side of his hair and one on the back left.
Silver feather dangle earring on his left ear lobe.
Left hand's fingernails are pointed and sharp

Faux golden mink fur double breasted coat. Length goes down to his mid thigh. Brown horn buttons. Brown silk liner.
Black with white polka dots pattern wool fringed scarf worn draped around the back of his neck under his coat. Loosely tied into a knot low right below his chest.
Various loose fitting polo or aloha/bowling shirts.
Gold 22" 10mm cuban link chain necklace.
White ribbed tank top undershirt.
Gold Rolex Datejust 36mm with a white dial and jubilee bracelet.
Silver band thumb ring, silver pinkie finger signet ring with a X engraved on the front. Gold pointer finger ring with a inlaid diamond. All on his left hand
Plain black leather dress glove with a white X on the palm on his right hand.
Silver 12mm cuban link chain id tag style bracelet on his right wrist
Black dress pants.
Black leather western style belt with an silver buckle and furnishings. Usually has a black embossed leather revolver holster on the right side.
Black leather cowboy boots with snip toe caps and floral stitching. Pant legs worn over the boot shaft.
Or
Various Air Jordan 5 sneakers.
White crew socks.

Hair
A bit longer in the back

Nemo is often considered a Mana-fiend among other terms. Someone who can feed off of mana itself for energy. He has a innate control over mana and mastery with absorption focused spells. Being able to drain other Talent's mana reserves to refill his own. With more advanced spells Nemo can even harness the natural mana found in the world for himself in a pinch.
While most Talents are able to increase their maximum mana pool by training. Nemo sadly lacks this ability. But makes up for it by being able to permanently increase his pool by fully draining mana from living beings and certain objects. Fully draining a magic user can also sometimes give Nemo the ability to use some of their spells.
An added bonus of consuming mana is that it makes him immune to aging.

All of his mana must be put to some sort of worthy use, and Nemo does so by specializing in highly destructive spells and traps. Often using an "X" shape motif. He also utilizes summoning magic circle relay rings. When a magic projectile passes through them, it increases in speed and power. Relay rings can also be chained together like a railgun to devastating effect.

Nemo triggers most of his attacks from the X shaped rune on the palm of his glove.

At times Nemo also has a affinity for fine custom weaponry instead of spells. Utilizing rifles, knives, and his trademark revolvers with specialized ammo to conserve his mana.

Nemo is fond of the dark and the cold. He sees and reacts better in darker places with his white nocturnal-like eyes. However as a drawback he often becomes irritated and uncomfortable in bright or hot areas.

While his actual age is a mystery, it is said that at a young age Nemo was shunned by all of the leading magic organizations for his unpredictable abilities and attributes. Being an orphan, Nemo was left to fend for himself in the world. His abilities were the only thing he had at a young age, realizing that most people were afraid of his style of spells. Nemo found that resorting to force to get what he needed was usually the only option that worked.

As his control over his abilities grew he began to get more involved with the magic underground. Nemo began to take advantage of his anti-mana magic to make a name for himself as a effective assassin against other fellow magic users. He did this as a means to both further his own power and take revenge against the magic community for it's treatment of him.

As Nemo's notoriety grew, the magic factions that once rejected him began to take notice. However not in the way he once wanted. Nemo began to become a problem for them, something that reached a climax when he executed a pair of Catholic Magi while on a armored transport mission.

The Church had let him grow unchecked for too long. To solve the problem they set an ambush up for Nemo with a group of Grand-Magi and a entourage of his students. A fight occurred between the two, ending with Nemo's capture. But not before the group of mages suffered great causalities, including their leader.

After the encounter Nemo was locked up deep in a pitch black cell within a dungeon located under the Vatican. There he lies in wait, feeding off of the small amount of mana rationed to him and wondering how long it will take before he is set free.

Despite it all Nemo often comes off as a rather chipper carefree individual, something that is often seems sinister while fighting instead. Nemo is often unstable, his polite and charismatic outer attitude sheds to his more psychotic inner shell while angered.
Nemo has a fascination with all things visual. Taking great pride with his work and considering the battles he partakes in as art. Aiming to make them as aesthetically impressive as he can.
He's also a collector, coming off as borderline greedy in some cases. He'll try to obtain anything he finds visually appealing. Nemo becomes highly irritated when his possessions are sullied. Thankfully he can often repair them.
Going hand in hand with his knack for collecting, he also takes great joy in eating. Being able to consume a very large amount of food and eat just about anything.

5.5 inch single action revolver.
3.5 inch birds head handle single action revolver.
Bolt action hunting rifles.
Balisong knives

[User]
Nemo gently placed his palm over her wound. He used a basic spell at first to map out the damage that was done inside before going to work with his mana-thread technique. Slowly but surely feint blue glowing threads started to generate and close up her wound. But this wasn't limited to just the surface, more generated inside and went to work repairing her lung and bone. The process wasn't painful, in fact, it was somewhat pleasant. A slightly warm tingling sensation could be felt as Nemo's mana-threads repaired flesh. The only painful thing was when the rib moved back into place, but the pain pain was dulled down to be more of a discomfort.

Soon enough the process was finished, and Nemo lifted his hand away to reveal that both his threads and her wound were gone. The magic within his threads made it much more advanced than stitches, once they faded away not even a scar was left in it's place. "Better?" Nemo asked. "The area might feel a bit sore still, but besides that it should be good as new."

[Assistant] Zuri kept a close eye on Roy's movement and actions, so when she reached for something, she was ready to block it. Zuri kneels down, visualizes the shield and casts a spell, placing a large shield right in front of her, covering her entire body. It was semi-transparent, so when the knife hit against her shield, she quickly releases the spell to refrain from using up too much mana. She looks up at the bombardment but quickly reverts her attention back to Roy, who was getting quite close.

[User]
Raiya could feel the warm tingle of her flesh and bone being knit back together. While there was some sligh discomfort in the bone being moved back, it palee in comparison to the pain she was just feeling a few moments beforehand. And with the shock her body was in, any normal discomfort felt extremely dampened.

Raiya nodded her head at Nemo's question. "Those threads work on wounded pride too?" she joked as she attempted to stand. Rising up, she realized that her stamina was all used up due to her tapped out mana wells, and as she attempted to take the first step she unceremoniously fell flat on her face. She flopped herself on her back, looking up at Nemo."Looks like I'm all out of mana. Also might be a tad bit anemic... So either I take a nap and we wait or you carry me out of here." Raiya said from her sprawled position on the ground.

[Assistant]
Roy's reckless run through his own smokescreen was probably a mistake, and he wasn't prepared enough for what was coming for him. He didn't think to look up to the moon, so once he noticed Zoey's attack it was already too late. He tried to dodge and used his arms to shield himself, attempting to generate some sort of barrier, but with the time he had to do so it was easily shattered.

Roy was hit three times in the arms, and once in the leg before he tripped and fell to the ground, sliding to a stop. Christ that stings! He thought as he laid vulnerable on the floor. Roy dug his hand into his jacket, and pulled out the same anti-magic powder he used early and tried to quickly apply it to his wounds in an attempt to sooth the burning sensation. To a degree it worked, but it didn't bring him back up to full speed.

Roy started to get up, but his damaged arms made it take longer than usual, leaving him open to attack. He kept one hand grasping a knife in case somebody came close to attack.

---

"Just have to take care of some things first." Nemo replied and turned around. He walked over to his chair and retrieved Raiya's jacket and hoodie. He collapsed the chair and returned it to his inventory, and slung her clothes over his shoulder. Nemo turned to the shield generator next. He whispered a spell into his hand, by the time it was done he was now grasping a black ball with a white X printed on it in his hand.

Nemo crouched down and rolled it across the room to the generator. The sound it made indicated it was solid, like a billiards ball, despite being generated from magic. It rolled to a stop in front of the generator, and began to glow bright white at it's core. The ball let out a faint fizzing sound before it detonated into a bright white explosion. The generator was completely destroyed.

"Alright, let's get out of here." Nemo stated before walking back over to Raiya. He crouched down and gently picked her up. Nemo supported her with one arm under her back and the other hooked under her knees. Nemo began walking out of the room and plotted his way back out of the ship. While carrying Raiya didn't seem to put any strain on him, Nemo was ever so slightly blushing, easily noticeable on his white skin. Being in such a close proximity to somebody else was clearly a foreign act to somebody like him.

[User]
Raiya could not see what happened from the position she was laying, but she figured that Nemo destroyed the generator somehow due to the loudness of what sounded like an magic induced explosion. Nemo walked back over to her after he finished destroying the generator and began to pick Raiya up in a princess carry. She could feel the warmth from his arms and the closeness of his body, which suddenly made her extremely self conscious, which she personally found extremely odd. Why do I care what this guy thinks of me? He's a roadblock, an enemy. She decided to quickly drop her train of thought because she was starting to feel extremely uncomfortable.

She looked up to notice Nemo was blushing. The otherwise livid pale face was now fairly flushed, which made Raiya feel even more comfortable. "You better not be getting any weird ideas," Raiya said in an irritated voice, "You pervert." She added. She looked away towards the direction the were headed. I'm useless, She thought I wouldn't be in this position if I was competent. It's my fault that I am a burden on this mission She reminded herself.

[Assistant]
As predicted, Roy was forced to rush forward, bursting through gas produced by his grenade after it had detonated. Travis would have admitted that he hadn't expected such an approach from the ex-hunter but it made little difference in the end; Roy was initiating his attack. Still, with the amount of lead time he had planned and created, Travis was able to react fast enough this time the newest set of throwing knives. With only a second or two, he quickly raised his right hand and casted a repulsion spell just as the sharp point of the knife got within feet of him. A transparent sphere flashed out of his palm and rapidly expanded into the projectile's path, the knife itself was then knocked off course, spinning harmlessly until falling on to the deck.

It was then again that Zoey had responded from behind the scenes and delivered her own flurry of projectiles down towards Roy, finally stopping him in his tracks as he frantically attempted to defend himself. Travis watched in the instant as Roy took several hits from Zoey's attack, sending him to the ground. Though wounded with probably limited use of his limbs, Travis was nearly impressed as he observed Roy persisting to get back on his feet. However, it seemed apparent now that he was a assuming a rather desperate defensive posture, almost like a cornered beast baring its fangs, threating anything and anyone who came to close.

Travis materialized three additional runes before him. The center rune seeped heat and embers while the two that flanked it drooled the same dark clouds which loomed over them, faint instances of light pulsing within them. All three runes were aimed right at Roy and were on the slightest brink of firing if Travis even gave a mere thought about it - a sudden movement from his target could be enough to trigger the attack just as well. Though with the walls of ice keeping Roy in place, a discharge from any of his runes would never miss him.

Travis then called out to the ex-hunter, "Had enough?"

[User]
Roy brought himself to his knees, noticing Travis' runes. He let out a sigh, but it turned into a chuckle towards the end. "It's possible I have, what's it to ya lad?" Roy asked, not making any sudden movements. It's likely for a smuggler like him, putting his life on the line for his crew wasn't something he really wanted to do. But in the same regard if they kept him alive, Roy backstabbing them later with one of his knives was equally possible.

---

Nemo continued walking through the ship's interior. "Yeah I'm getting ideas alright, the first one is to drop you." Nemo retorted jokingly. Nemo seemed hesitant to continue, but eventually spoke again. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news and whatnot, but this mission has really only just kicked off. It's going to be pretty hard to fight off the rest of the heavy hitters on this ship if I'm just limited to... kicking. I don't think the Master Blaster technique we got going here is gonna work out." Nemo explained.


[System]
Purpose: Currently looking for any job that would earn her cash.

Description:
Standing at 5'9 and 130 lbs, Mary is taller than most women. She has a well-muscled, athletic, frame earned from many rough years traveling the West as an outlaw. Appearing to be in her mid-twenties, she has hazel green eyes and braided dirty blonde hair that she hangs over her shoulder. With delicate features and a well-angled face, Mary would be considered beautiful if not for the pale white scar running along her left jawline. Mary's outfit consists of a yellowed long sleeve shirt, worn black trousers, a brown leather cowboy hat, and a black bandana around her neck. Around her waist are a large brown leather belt and two pistol holsters on either side.

Backstory:
Mary was the only child of a pair of farmers from Kansas. Her family had toiled the same land for generations, earning a meager but honest living. As a child, she knew it was her destiny to one day marry a strong man to work the farm as her father and grandfather did, much to her chagrin. Growing up she was very much her father's daughter. Not having a son, Mary's father raised her to hunt, fish, and shoot like the other boys her age. She developed a dislike for the household chores her mother forced upon her, instead finding joy in accompanying her father on his many hunting trips. By thirteen she could shoot a squirrel right between the eyes from a respectable distance.

Due to reasons unknown, Mary left the farm at the tender age of sixteen with nothing but her father's old hunting rifle, the family horse, and an angry glint in her eye. She quickly joined up with a gang of local youths who had decided to leave their poor lives behind and set out in search of loot. They were successful for a time, robbing wealthy travelers, stagecoaches, and small-time businesses. It was never anything too big but enough to earn them a dishonest living.

One night, after a successful train robbery – their most profitable job yet, Mary awoke to the drunken stupor of one of the outlaws making his way into her tent. Before she could utter a word of defiance, the man overpowered her and pinned her to the bed, clearly wishing to have his way with her. She screamed for help from her comrades but none came. Moments later Mary emerged from the tent, covered head to toe in blood. Arranged around the nearby campfire were the stunned figures of her former friends. They had heard her cries for help but chose to ignore them. From the open tent flap, they saw the pitiful man laid still on the bed, a hunting knife embedded in his neck. Bloody Mary, as she would soon thereafter be known, left without a word. News quickly spread of the scarred beauty who used her charm to lure innocent men to bed, only to take their life after the act was done.

Since then, Mary has earned an infamous reputation for being a capable and convincing outlaw. She's worked with many different gangs, never staying with any for longer than a year. A string of unlucky jobs and close encounters with the law has landed her in the town of Sweetwater, Texas. There she awaits her next big score to fill her thinning pockets.

Important Equipment:
-Winchester Model 1873 rifle
-Two colt .45 revolvers
-Hunting knife
-$15
-American Quarter Horse named "Diamond"

[User]
The money.

He had to go back for the money.

For what would not be the last time in many, many days, Taylor R. Jackson's thoughts once again returned to the pounds and pounds of gold stashed in that cave back in New Mexico. Ten thousand dollars lifted from stagecoaches, homesteads and banks from all across Arizona and California. Ten thousand dollars was the worth of his life. And all because of that one tip that goddamned snake of a Mexican fed them, gold magnate Karl Jorgensen would ensure that this chase was not going to let up until either him or all of the gang were dead.

Some of the gang said they were going to hole up in a ranch in Kansas. Yet a couple more said that they were headed up north in Dakota, probably rob some miners on the way there. And now here he was in this godforsaken town, gambling away what was left of his life's work to a darkie, a redskin, and a couple of dandies probably from up north. This was it. He was living the life. On an ordinary day he and his gang would have this entire saloon quaking in fear and spilling the contents of their wallets all over the floorboards. Now he was hiding like a rat in this ballsack of a town with his face splashed all over wanted posters from here to Phoenix. Granted, they weren't very good impressions, but he paid a boy a couple of cents to take down the most accurate ones plastered in the town square.

What was he doing here? Waiting? Planning? He felt aimless. He was lost. Why did he want to go it alone? An extra gun or two, while conspicuous, would have been useful in the case a bounty hunter or a Pinkerton showed up on his trail.

But well, it was only a few dollars. After one last round, he'd go up to his room and hit the sack.

"Your loss, mister," he muttered, taking the two cards the well-dressed man dealt to him.

[Assistant]
Mistihkoman sat at the table stiffly. When he'd walked into the Texas he had meant only to trade the pelts he'd picked up. And get a small sum from it before heading back north. He'd wanted to avoid the glares and dirty looks the residents had started to give him the moment he'd come into town. Even if it's clear he's no member of the Apache, the Comanche or the Delaware, he's still an First Nations or Indian person from the America's. Canada treats his people and cousins a little differently from the States, so he'd not wanted to stay too long.

But someone had seen him pocketing several bills of money, and had dragged him into the saloon, despite his wish to not do so. the Firewater isn't exactly healthy. But he'd stayed, refused to pay for drinks of anyone else but himself and sat, watched, ignoring the attempts by people to get him to pay for their drinks. His Rifle, bow and the rifle club had been taken, but he still had his knife and tomahawk hidden under his vest just in case. He sniffs, and looks at the cards in his hand. He's not sure how he ended up at the table. He'd been sipping at a glass of whiskey before he'd been invited to sit at the table. And now several hands in he looks at the small stack of dollars. So far it's gone well.

As he sets his cards down on the table, looking over at one of the spectators saying something about how he's not playing standard Indian Cards. Something about one on the head if you don't see it you lose. The short indian just narrows his eyes. Then turning back to look Logan, "Moniyew wants his soniyew back? Logan must win this hand then." He reaches down picks up one of the coins he won and flips it between his fingers, "We start yes?"

Moniyew = White Man

Soniyew = money/dollars/payment

[User]
Courtesy: Lord Bowler/Julius Cary

Billy Kingsley
"Oh, how'd y'all get me roped into this game. I ain't no gambler, but mees no complainin' 'bout winnin' dis ere money." Billy never gambled. But somehow someone got him into this game in the saloon in Sweetwater, Texas. He looked over at the older white man who was a few inches shorter than himself. He didn't know the man, but he looked rough. He was wearing one of those wide brimmed ten-gallon hat, Billy always mocked when he rode the trail. Even the Comancheros he rode with thought those hats were awkward looking. But Billy convinced himself not to say anything about it. He suspected by his accent, the man was from the deep south. If he was going to get into a fight, it would be on his terms. He'd never heard a Louisiana accent, but knew it did not sound like anyone from Chicago, Indiana or Iowa. He spent most of his life up north, but had been in Texas for the past several years. He had gotten used to the Texas accent, but this gentleman did not sound like someone from Texas either. "You kin try n' take dis money, Missa Logan, but I ain't in da mind to be givin' it away."

There was another Yankee at the table, who went by the name of Finney. He was shorter than everyone else at the table. He could tell by his appearance, that he only recently arrived in Texas and did not know what he had gotten himself into. There was a time when he would view a northerner as an ally or friend, but having received the shit end of the stick more than a few times, he knew not to trust them as much as a southerner. But with this kid, he felt as though the young man would need his help more than a typical Yankee found in Texas. He made a commitment to himself that he would watch the kid and help if he needed, until he betrayed him somehow. With whites, Billy knew it was not if, but when.

Billy didn't know what to make of the white woman or the Indian. He knew many Comanches and Apaches, but he never met someone quite like him. Billy addressed Mistihkoman, "Where you from, friend? Ah've lived with Commanches and Apaches. You be different. Ah reckon, ah can't place where you from."

---

Courtesy: Dick Brewster

Phineas O'Connell

Finney played cards with his school mates in Amherst. The stakes often were higher than the game here in the Sweetwater saloon. But somehow, he realized there was more at risk here than when he was at school. For starters, he knew all the boys he played with at school. These people he was playing cards with were all strangers to him. His father told him to be wary of strangers like these. He thrilled at being here in this backwater saloon, the smell of alcohol and burning tobacco. It all excited him. He had never seen a native before and here he was playing cards with one. He wanted to ask the man questions. He wanted to ask all five of the people at the table many questions but felt he would only scare them away if he threw too many questions at them too quickly. He made a point to observe their behavior and make inferences from that. Maybe he could develop a comfortable rapport with these people to ask his questions.

Finney had met several colored folk either in Boston, Gloucester or Amherst, but they were usually fairly well dressed or at least comfortable. This giant of a colored man wore Cavalry trousers and boots. He wore a cowboy hat, one he'd never seen before. He wondered if he served in the army. "Excuse me, mister," Finney looked at Billy. "Were you in the army?" He wasn't aware black men served in the army.

"Yes sah," Billy responded. "10th Cavalry. Buffalo Soldiers."

[Assistant]
The squat native set his coin down and let his gaze travel around the table. Moniyew and moniyeweskiwew and kaskitewiyas. It's actually quite interesting to see so many and to see the white men including their women and a man of a different colored skin. As he sits and waits for the next moves to be made he blinks a little. He didn't register it at first but the dark skinned man is talking to him. He takes a moment to think back and nods slowly. He smiles a little as he responds, "Comanche and Apache are my cousins. I am Plains Cree, from Montana territory and North into Canada, Saskatchewan and Alberta." He nods, "Scout, Tracker and Hunter." He adds patting his chest proudly. He looks the man over and nods respectfully, "Fine to see dark skinned man here. Good medicine." Finally he lets it out, "Mistihkoman, Big Knife, my name. What is your name dark skinned one?"

moniyeweskiwew = woman, white woman

kaskitewiyas = african person literally means, Dark Skinned person

side note: Cree People had no concept of an African American person for the longest time. As Slavery was not a major thing in Canada and African people did not make it to the western Canadian area until nearly the very end of colonization. But when they did the Crees, all nations of them, quickly came up with a term for them.

[User]
Mary puffed idly at the half-finished cigar between her lips, the three successive pulls leaving a trail of smoke in the air. She enjoyed the occasional smoke, that and a shot of whiskey did wonders to help ease the soreness of days traveling on horseback. Though what Mary truly enjoyed was seeing the startled expressions on men's faces when they saw her smoking casually. It was a sin, she was told. A hobby unbefitting a woman such as herself. She didn't like the sound of that one bit. The things she did to uppity men like that… Well…

Mary looked up at the greasy man glaring at her from beside the bar, a cotton rag held up against a bloodied nose he received not ten minutes earlier. Not only had the greaseball gotten between Mary and her last cigar, but he had also roughly suggested she replace it with a rather inappropriate member beneath his pants. At that Mary had merely chuckled, grabbed him by the loose hair of his balding head, and slammed his nose right into the countertop. The bartender, who had witnessed the whole thing, merely shook his head and tossed the bleeding man a rag to soak up the blood now gushing from his nasal cavity. She locked eyes with the man and blew another long plume of smoke matched by a devilish smile. The ol' greaseball stormed out of the saloon, the stomp of his boots on the hardwood floor attracting a few annoyed glances on the way out. She heaved a heavy sigh. From the looks of him, Mary could tell he posed no real danger. There was undoubtedly a tired wife and children waiting for him at home. Still, she would sleep with a gun under her pillow tonight – Mary rarely didn't these days.

Her attention turned to the table where Mistihkoman and the colored man were sparking a conversation. She listened intently as the Indian spoke his name. Not being one to wait until spoken to, Mary quickly chimed in.

"Misty-what now?" She raised a confused eyebrow. Her experience with Natives had only been through pseudonyms, they took American names that were more easily pronounced by the English tongue.

"I outta call you Big Knife, then. Sadly, those Indian names sound like a mouthful of nails to me."

Mary glanced at her cards on the table, letting slip a small smile before quickly recovering her nonchalant expression. She had absolutely nothing, but no one else needed to know that. She needed to win money any way she could anyhow. The room at the inn wasn't cheap and she would have to win big if she wanted to last the month.

"I'm Mary. Mary Johnson. It's a pleasure." She loosed a charming smile, a stark contrast to a pair of hungry sea-green eyes.


[System]
"Why am I here, you ask? Well, for the adventure of course!"
Nicknames/Title:
 Spell Blade
 The Wandering Scholar

Theme Songs:
 Standard Theme
 Battle Theme

Gender:
 Female

Marital Status:
 --

Age:
 20

Sexuality:
 Pauline

Family Ties:
 --

Class:
 Magus
 There are those who spend their lives poring over ancient tomes and texts, unlocking the power of magic, and there are those who spend their time perfecting the use of individual weapons, becoming masters without equal. The magus is at once a student of both philosophies, blending magical ability and martial prowess into something entirely unique, a discipline in which both spell and steel are used to devastating effect. As she grows in power, the magus unlocks powerful forms of arcana that allow her to merge her talents further, and at the pinnacle of her art, the magus becomes a blur of steel and magic, a force that few foes would dare to stand against.
 Magi spend much of their time traveling the world, learning whatever martial or arcane secrets they can find. They might spend months learning a new sword-fighting style from a master warrior, while simultaneously moonlighting in the local library, poring through tomes of ancient lore. Most who take this path dabble in all sorts of lore, picking up anything that might aid them in their search for perfection.

Weapon Mastery(ies):
 Sword, Tome

Inventory:
 Silver Sword
 Arcthunder
 Vulnerary

Personality:
 Youthful, and full of energy and wonder, Aika feels most at home both at the heart of a battlefield and in the depths of a library. She often might act too immature or optimistic for her companions, but she is a reliable source of knowledge, and a well trusted blade. Doesn't like to talk about her family.

Biography:
 Originally from the icy peaks of Frossbarr, Aika took to the roads in pursuit of great masters of magic and martial arts. Her desire to become a legend in both swordplay and spellcraft has led her across the sandy deserts of Alistaf and the thick jungles of Jotenvarr, stopping only to learn and practice with scholars and soldiers alike.
 It was during her stay in Jotenvarr that she learned that King Alexandro himself requested her by name for her skill. Upon arrival, she happily agreed to take up arms in the royal guard.

[User]
Hyakuya

Hyakuya followed behind their small group as they proceeded into the forest. He had been within the castle walls for quite a while now so he managed to know who Hirotsuka was. Seeing her wasn't quite a pleasure for him. He knew what he was getting into and now he was going to train under her. He watched as the kunai was thrown towards them and the one in front was surprised at it. Well, who wouldn't be? Yes, he wouldn't say that he didn't like where this was going. Training with her might be hard but it would harden everyone.

"Hyakuya." The manakete said as he raised his hand. "Never thought I'd train under you of all people Hirotsuka." He said with a small chuckle. He then just watched as Tybalt started to speak. Hyakuya was pleased to see this. He didn't know how Hirotsuka would actually react to what he did. She had a sharp tongue and she would probably use that. As for everything else she said, he just shrugged at it. It seems the manakete wasn't all that bothered. He then smirked. "Well, well, this is going to be interesting." He muttered to himself, a little excited for the whole thing.

Now, he was sure most people were fearing for their lives right now. That was an expected reaction from new people who haven't even met the maid. Even he was mistaken when he first saw Hirotsuka. He remembered it like yesterday; waltzing out of the room he stayed in and then bumping into her. Sadly for him, he didn't manage to say anything quickly and he found himself getting an earful despite being way older than the young maid.

[Assistant]
The Mausoleum

[

Claude, even though he seemed hurt and that Azi rushed to help him, stood back up and pushed the gentle blue haired man aside.

"What the hell, brat?!" The man stood up as if nothing had happened in the first place.

Though, of course, it was obvious that he was lightly hurt after he passed out for a few seconds.

Illian turned to him with a raised eyebrow. Any normal man would've been dead from the sheer force of beign thrown against a rock structure like that, and a normal mercenary would've passed out for several hours after that. Yet, this man was able to wake up just after a few seconds.

It seems that calling someone rockhead wouldn't be more accurate ever again.

"Y-You are more resiliant than I thought." Illian said with a slight smile, showing some of her fake pointy teeth. "I-I need your name too, please."

Claude arched an eyebrow as well. Seeing the sharp and pointy teeth, though they were obviously fake, made him feel slightly at home. It ran in the family to have pointy teeth like his.

Claude relaxed his stance and let out a sigh.

"Claude. Claude Aster. Merc. Or well, ex-merc now." He noticed that everyone else was definitely judging him by his recent actions, but he merely growled at the others like some kind of wild animal.

"G-Great. We have Mikhail, Aika, Azi, Lord Maximillian, Victor and Claude. I will make sure to remember those names." The girl started sneering.

Her smile was sinister and Aika would probably feel the sudden surge of magical energy coming from her, and even those without magical talent would be able to feel it.

It was terrifying. It was scary. It was a warning of their inevitable death.

"If you can survive this, that is. Rise...!" She lifted both hands.

The tombs started moving, and suddenly, their lids started falling down and crashed against the ground. There were only pieces left of them, and when that happened, a purple arm, or a set of arms, appeared from the tombs.

They started impulsing themselves outside the tombs and then fell to the ground with a loud thud. At first, they seemed like simple corpses that suddenly started moving.

An act of necromancy, to move the corpses in order to frighten the recruits. So Claude thought at first.

Then, the corpses slowly started standing up, before standing straight before the group of young recruits.

"These are Risen. Extremely dangerous and extremely volatile." Illian explained. "We tend not to keep corpses here in the mausoleum lately so that a dark mage like myself can't use them against us. The Risen played a big part of the previous king's assassination, after all. I procured these for my test, however."

The girl said, before throwing some weapons at the feet of the Risen, who slowly bent down to pick them up.

There were seven of them in total, and all of them looked human enough. There were two myrmidons, two mercenaries, a bowman and an axe fighter as the vanguard and small fries, while a Sorcerer stood at the back of them all, wielding a tome that Illian lent it.

"I have no control over these Risen, I simply brought them back to life and because of that they will not attack me. They do not think, they only destroy." Illian continue, before lifting three fingers. "You have three options at this time. One. Slay them all. Two. Slay me and they will go back to sleep. Three. Escape and I will clean them up. With options one and two you approve. Option three will be considered as forfeiting the exam."

With that done, the Risen seemed to finally wake up from their slumber and turned their heads to the group of knights.

"Your ability, wit and courage will all be proved in here. Do not hesitate to do this. They were all scoundrels that died during the war. They deserve no pity, as they have all killed, deceived, stolen and this one over here," Illian pointed at the Sorcerer beside her, "was the one that killed our previous king with corpses reanimated like these. With that said and done,"

The first Risen, the myrmidon, threw itself against Claude with its blade up.

Illian raises her hand, "The exam has now started! Fight for your lives, or die!" and then brings it back down as she said that.

Claude reached for his sword and brought it out just as the attack was about to land.

"What the hell!?" Claude kicked the Risen's stomach, but since it felt no pain at all, his tactic failed. "These guys don't feel pain?! Get careful, everyone!"

Claude shouted.

The other Risen started attacking as well, while the bowman and sorcerer stood at the back while shooting arrows and slinging curses. The physical fighters threw themselves at the other knights.

Illian smiled all the while while she remained behind the sorcerer and bowman.

Her plan was not to attack them at all, even if they entered her range, but would certainly defend herself if they came at her, but one thing was for sure.

No one in the room could handle her. The sorcerer she had lifted was not nearly as powerful as herself, and she would show no mercy even if Maximillian came charging against her.

The physical fighters would also go after everyone trying to fell the bowman or sorcerer.

[User]
Aika Lennone

Being much closer to Illian and Claude than the rest of the troop, Aika became a clear target for the first risen in the approach. The agile myrmidon dashed past the heavy blade wielding mercenaries, ducking as it drew its blade low for a slash at her.

"Waah!"

Aika almost fell onto her back as the very obvious attack came completely as a surprise against her distracted demeanor. Just barely avoiding a highly incapacitating slice, it took a long moment for Aika to regain her composure. However, within that moment, the ditsy butterfly that introduced herself to the group vanished, and in her place was the expression of blood pumping focus, the realization that a duel was upon her. She quickly darted her left hand to the sword, and unleashed the silver blade from its scabbard. The dim candlelight of the area glistened off of the razor edge as she ran her free hand across the flat of the weapon, her palm glowing blue and white with electricity as she did so.

In a flash, the blade of this longsword was coated in a sheet of sapphire lightning, which arced up and down the metal, sparking off the edges and giving the weapon a bright blue glow. "All right you eldritch horror, lets dance!" The static from her palm coursed through her body as she burst into action. She assaulted the risen swordsman with a flurry of slashes, dancing forward and pushing it back as it deftly struck her blade with its own to block every attack with similar velocity. Once the myrmidon was backed against the coffin it crawled out of, Aika lunged in for a kill thrust.

"Take THIS!"
BANG!
"What the-"

In the moment just before her final strike would fell the monster, the crash of a greatsword drove a schism between Aika and her opponent. With her lightning reflexes, she managed to parry the strike and slide back, looking up to see a corpse towering over her with an equally large blade. The mercenary risen rose its sword in unison with the myrmidon, and both of the zombies lunged forward, directing their attacks towards the young spell-blade.

[Assistant]
"Ah," Azi said as Claude pushed him aside. He still felt a bit uncomfortable with the fact that the spell probably would have killed anyone else, but his thoughts were interrupted by the sudden chill that filled the room as Illian summoned a group of Risen. As soon as they broke from their torpor, Azi saw the Risen myrmidons immediately fling themselves at Claude and Aika. Seeing that they held themselves against that sudden attack, Azi took a few moments to absorb the state of the battlefield; though he hadn't been in such a situation before, he felt that it was important for him to try and figure out what song he should sing.

Before he could do that, however, a resounding clang drew his attention. A Risen mercenary had teamed up against Aika. He quickly dashed towards her as the Risen lunged, sweeping aside their blades with his quarterstaff before completely diverting them with a fluid strike. Azi would have pitied them; the nature of dark magic, particularly this kind, unsettled him. However, that was the cost of their sins, even had they changed later on.

"Are you alright?" Azi asked Aika, taking a breath as the two Risen tumbled into the ground. "Sorry to ask this of you, but could you protect me for a moment?" Though he had asked, he wouldn't really have the chance to confirm it at the time. Azi pulled out his song book and quickly flipped to the one he'd decided on. "I haven't practiced this one as much, but Vigor will do." Though the language it was in couldn't be understood, Azi's gentle, yet powerful voice began to rise over the sound of battle, filling the area around him with oddly inspired energy.

[User] "Of course." She replied to the bard, not taking her eyes off the enemy. She took this time to begin casting a spell of her own as the other Risen began to make their way towards the squad. "A blast of my electricity should be enough for them," she stated reassuringly as the static began to pulse in her hand.