[System]
Age
270 years. Minnel looks like a human in his 50's.

Gender
Male

Position
Information hoarder, forensics. He loves to do research.

Species
Leprechaun, An Irish gnome. Like most of the gnomes, Leprechauns like to help people. But they're also greedy, so they take a payment and hoard a treasure from good deeds they've done. They have a magical aura that helps plants grow and injuries heal bit more rapidly.

Appearance
3 foot and 5 inches tall makes Minnel half an inch smaller than your average gnome. His weight is 105 pounds. Some of his hair has already started to fall of from his head. His ears aren't as pointy as they were when he was younger. His eyes are bit dreamy with small sacks underneath. But there's most of the time half a smile in his face. He's doesn't seem overly athletic but gnomes are surprisingly strong.

Minnel's usual outfit is comfortable woolen trousers and a light sweater or a dress shirt. His favorite combination is white trousers and red shirt, though green shirt is not too uncommon. Despite the day he wears black reel shoes that give a decent sound as his heels hit the floor when he's walking. When he's in overly good mood he enjoys wearing a panama hat and a cane made from bamboo wood. He also has a pair of round glasses when he reads.

Personality
Minnel is a helpful guy who's usually relaxed with half a smile and quite polite when it comes to people. He's uncommonly on bad mood and it's rare for him to get angry from anything. Though when it comes to giving a helping hand, he's not the first one to offer it unless there's a price, even a penny, offered. He prefers to do his life without exercise on his older days.

Minnel loves reading. Depending on the case he hoards himself with loads of information from books and internet, gets distracted in his own thoughts and snaps his fingers as he thinks stuff hardly. After the cases are over he remembers the cases fondly with his pals, though he likes to exaggerate his own part on cases. His favorite drinks are coffee and whisky.

Background
Like most leprechauns he used to work hard in Ireland for payment and kept hoarding his treasure. People usually try to capture the poor fellows for their treasures, so he never did anything but gigs. Despite this, around 100 years old, he was captured and forced to give away his treasure, so he had to start again. He moved to England, took a disguise and worked there for a time as a barkeeper and a gambler before going to america to find his fortune.

In America he tried to find his living as a Cowboy, Teacher and spiritual creature for Native Americans. Eventually he settled down as an antiquarian keeper for some decades. He moved from town to town before finally finding himself in Pine Hollow. There his decent collection of old books proved useful for local law enforcement, and so he works at Pine Hollow Investigations.

At work he does the research, searching for information from internet and books.

Miscellaneous
-They rumor he still hoards a new treasure somewhere in Pine Hollow. Some have taken their time to tail him, but so far nobody has found his secret treasure.
-Outside work he enjoys gardening, dancing and hosting poker nights with his neighbors.

[User]
Pine HollowChapter One: Nightcall

---

---

It is Sunday, September 13th, 1987. The air is crisp and cool, and most of the trees have turned orange.

Pine Hollow Paranormal Investigations has been hired for a minor clean-up job, removing ectoplasm causing paranormal occurrences left by a recent cleansing. The few employees there are ones missing hours, though the rest have the Sunday off. Things go well until Bill, their irate sasquatch manager, receives a concerning message.

---

---

"Why do you think they call Nessies Nessies if there's others besides the one in Loch Ness?" Oz asked, speaking over the vacuum. "I mean, I guess they call Jersey Devils that because that's where they were discovered, but the Loch Ness Nessie wasn't the first. It wasn't even the biggest, now that you think about it."

Bill didn't respond. He was preoccupied with running a vacuum through a small crawlspace to clean it of any residual ectoplasm that had been left by a recently exorcised ghost, and was hoping that his lack of any response would make Oz think that he couldn't hear him over the vacuum.

"And you know what else I think about? Alright so, you hear 'Chupacabra', and the first thing you think is Mexico, right?"

Bill shut his eyes for a moment, gathering an abundance of patience. He wasn't even supposed to be doing this job. The building was practically older than the dirt it was built on, and Bill's Sasquatch proportions meant that he had been squatting nonstop in the small space. However, Oz arrived for cleaning that day in white pants, and so his job had consisted mostly of holding the frayed extension cord of the vacuum up and off of the flammable, ectoplasm-soaked floors above the crawlspace.

"But they're not specifically from Mexico! I was watching it on a documentary last night. They're actually just reptile-like mammals that live in deserts. A lot of 'em in West Africa too. More than Mexico! Ain't that something, Bill?"

Even with a literal floor separating them, Bill found himself unable to hide from the magician.

"Yep. That's something. Say, how bad is it down there?"

Bill clicked off the vacuum and raised it up the small entryway for Oz to grab, turning around for a moment to admire his work. Today was a "Make-up day", for the few at Pine Hollow Private Investigations who were missing hours that quarter due to sickness. Even Bill, who was rarely even late, wasn't safe from make-up days. He had taken two days off weeks ago for to attend an old college professor's funeral, and was now working on the last few hours he hadn't already made up with overtime.

The crawlspace was now clean, albeit stained green from the ectoplasm that had seeped through the floorboards. A poltergeist had been exorcised in the house a week ago, and the residual ectoplasm was still causing what PHPI had been hired to clean -- A Class III Haunting, the most minor of the three to come up. They were usually caused by ghosts or the remnants of poltergeists, such as the foggy, cotton-like bits of ectoplasm Bill had been vacuuming, and only made for minor occurrences; Floating spoons, books falling off shelves, spooky messages written on bathroom mirrors after showers, et cetera. PHPI mostly covered Class III's nowadays. A month ago there had been a Class II, and a few weeks before that they had been hired to take down a mother Wendigo, but other than that, the PHPI hadn't handled any major cases in years.

Bill sighed -- Not a worried sigh, but a content one. When all was said and done, he preferred things stay quiet.

"You coming outta there, Billie? Billie Jean? You still in there?"

Bill sighed again. This time, an exasperated sigh.

"Is this some kinda bigfoot hibernation thing? Should I leave?"

[Assistant]
Adra pulled up infront of the old house and checked her map. It had been a heck of a drive but at least it hadn't been that difficult to find the place. Adra stifled a yawn as she sat in her oversized van. It sure wasn't the most stylish thing with its "I'm a serial killer" exterior but it certainly made things easier when it came to moving personnel. Checking her watch Arda kicked her feet up on the dash and took the revolver off her hip by sliding the leather holster off of her belt and settling it in the console next to her. Still in easy reach. Not that Adra expected all that much fuss any time soon but it paid to be cautious because you never knew when something was going to try and eat you. Closing her eyes and leaning the seat back Adra settled in for a nap, she still had maybe forty minutes until Oz and Bill were suppose to be done and the 4 am shift had been a real drag.

Before she went for her nap; Adra flipped open a weekly planner and scanned her schedule. She'd been relatively lucky with her shift for the county that it didn't interfere with PHPI. It also helped that she worked on call for the county most of the time since the Sheriff didn't have that many bodies to deal with. Which meant Adra largely helped with other things around the County Sheriff's office and then spent the majority of her afternoon's and evenings working with PHPI when they had cases. Putting it that way, she really did work on call for both agencies. Not that PHPI had really had all that much to deal with lately in terms of the supernatural. Adra kept flipping to see if there were any important dates. None came up other than her weekly feeding. Guess it was back to the Pine Hollow Lake resort. It was a real drag to drive all the way out there but letting her beast loose in Pine Hollow proper could spell trouble since a large portion of the residents were supernatural and it was not good form to feed on their nightmares. Best simply to make the drive, scare the bejesus out of some drunk resort goers, remind them that the depths of the lake we NOT safe, and then make the drive back.

With that Adra settled in for a power nap. The area she was in was wholly uninteresting from the primal dream so instead of jumping to her Lair she simply went right to sleep. Straight down into a black dreamless nap while she waited on her two co-workers.

[User]
Minnel had slept his night well.

Before sleeping he had hosted another poker night with his neighbors, though this time he had passed the games and simply acted as a dealer. Like usual he took a small fee for people entering and in return offered some decent sour punch with some jelly to accompany it. After one bowl of punch down and the winner was clear, they had continued the night with some good whisky from Minnel's homeland. Stories had been passed all the way until midnight, when people had one after another thanked for the evening and left. Minnel put the place back in order before sleeping.

---

It was a golden room he was in. Floor was made from golden coins, and the furniture was simple. Table, chair and some tea pottery. Minnel sat on the chair and drank tea from his cup and smiled after every sip he took. There was a window and outside it was sunny, with green land surrounding him everywhere. He was happy, Minnel thought.
"I am feeling fine", Minnel said.

---

When he woke up, he smiled. It was very common for him. Today was going to be a good day, he thought. "Today is going to be fantastic", Minnel said. And so he changed his green, white striped pajamas to comfortable woolen trousers (white) and red sweater with white stripes going around the chest. This morning he didn't go to shower; it was Sunday, after all. He broke the eggs and made himself an omelet with lots of mushrooms in it. To accompany it, he boiled some water and made fine Earl Grey tea. And after enjoying the breakfast - which he very much did - he opened the door and welcomed the September's chilly Sunday.

Today was a special day. He was going to do gardening. It was also a "Make up-day" for those that would have been sick at Pine Hollow Private Investigations, but Minnel hadn't been sick, so he enjoyed his day off. He was a leprechaun and like all happy little gnomes he didn't get sick easily. And even if they were sick, they would still work. Gnomes can't help it. Neither could Minnel, who kept his mobile phone ready in case they needed him back at the office. Weekend bonus was a weekend bonus that a leprechaun couldn't resist.

But enough about greedy nature of leprechauns. Minnel's plan was to kill off the bugs and take off weeds before the winter came. They would become quite a trouble during next spring if he didn't poison them out. And he gladly did it. He had bought some tough weed wacker he had and some sprayable bug-poison that coated the leaves and branches and pedals of his roses and bushes. Minnel shook the can of poison sprayed and smiled as the deadly mist came over the petals and covering some unfortunate bugs. This day couldn't fail, he thought.
 "This day won't turn out sour", he said.


[System]
GENDER :Female
SEXUALITY :Bisexuality
AGE :16
YEAR :6th
HOUSE :Ravenclaw
BLOODSTATUS :Muggle/Squib

IN DEPTH INFORMATION

APPEARENCE Megan is a petite girl standing barely five foot in height and weighs about ninety-two pounds. She is a strong believer in regular exercise and engages in gymnastics to keep herself fit concentrating on floor exercises and uneven-parallel bars which as one expects gives her a very tight muscled frame.
Her hair and sometimes even her eyes shift color so often sometimes she forgets her own original color; it's length and style is also in constant transition changing as often as three to five times a day.
She wears glasses almost all the time her favorite frame style cat's eye and range from simple black to sparkling works of art.
PERSONALITY : Megan is an openly friendly girl who loves to get people to talk about themselves but rarely exposes any real details about herself.
She is a inquisitive personality bordering on nosey loving to dig into the details of any subject or person that catches her interest and as a lover of facts strives to never speak about any subject that she doesn't know enough about. Another facet of her love of facts means that she dislikes telling lies or hearing them.
Megan dislikes anyone who seeks to use power against the powerless and will risk injury or trouble seeking to see justice done using her skill at journalism as her best weapon or her expansive knowledge of legal codes both Magical an Muggle to see justice done.
HISTORY :Megan was born to the Hannover / Sprites as an only child. Her mom is a Barrister of the The Honourable Society of the Inner Temple and a much sought after scholar of law named Dame Winifred Hanover Her father Albert Hamilton Sprite is an artist and a Squib of the pure blood Sprite family who is more well known for his handsome appearance than his art which many say is why his wife married him.

Raised in the affluent neighborhood of Hyde Park Megan went to the finest local private Academy from the age of four till at ten when she began to exhibit magical talent.

It all happened when she discovered her deceased aunt Livonia's wand while exploring the Sprite ancestral home and aunt Liv's ghost as well which greatly concerned the family and proved to have a natural gift with Transfiguration spells. (Aunt Livonia was a renowned Transfigurist and is thought to be the reason Muggle associated witches with turning the luckless to toads)

Since the day she and her aunt discovered one another Megan has had the odd ghost as a personal mentor an confessor an they are often seen together engaged in deep conversation. Many in the Sprite family have viewed the return of Livonia's ghost with mixed feelings; some hoping the ghost will reveal the location of her fortune and others fearing that she's grooming Megan to assume the position of family Matriarch.

MAGIC

WAND :
Birch 10 3/4" Gold 16 gage wire enhancement with a Vella hair core

Artificer unknown
BOGGART : A horde of Frogs an Toads
Megan discovered this odd little fear the day she first touched her wand and accidently transfigured a nest of bees into the slimy creatures an being covered in them. (It isn't just her Boggart but a reoccurring nightmare where she is pursued by an angry horde of toads an frogs who are the vengeful spirits of the transfigured seeking revenge and may be a transfered fear of her aunt's)
PATRONUS :
TALENT :Transfiguration Prodigy
Incarcerous
Megan's Mastery of this binding spell is so complete that when she casts it the effect is almost as fast as the eye can perceive. It's appearance is that of heavy ropes which are snow white in color.
WEAKNESS : Herbiology
Megan is cursed by a brown thumb having no luck at all no matter how attentive in keeping any plant she's associated with alive.

OTHER

PET :
Chauncy has been Megan's pet for three years now and lives with her parents while she is at school. Now a full grown male of his breed Chauncy weighs well over two hundred an fifty pounds and is a frightening sight for many visitors to the Hyde Park home of the Hanover / Sprites. He loves and protects all those of the house but adores his young mistress with sometimes destructive enthusiasm. He is for obvious reasons unafraid of ghosts and even seems to be able to sense their presence and track them.

EXTRA :
Aunt Livonia was last seen alive about 900 years ago and at that time despite appearances was over 300 years old. She was at the time one of the most feared of Witches in the known world and a wanted criminal by the powers that be. (Some in the Sprite family believe it was because Liv had discovered a powerful transfiguration spell that could grant immortality.)
In any case information about this powerful witch is either hidden, sealed away or simply lost so it is all speculation.
Livonia for reasons she has yet to reveal has taken a great interest in her niece and because she is fettered to her former wand is always wherever Megan is. This was at first a bit frightening to Meg but over time has become so normal that Livonia's absence is now more concerning.

[User]
Defense Against the Dark Arts: Professor Quinton Bellfree
Hufflepuff and Griffondor

Proffesor Bellfree rushed into the room and into his office at the back of the class room. Rustling could be heard from within, though it was uncertain as to what he was doing. Several crashes later he came back out with a few odd trinkets in hand. "pages 134 to 140, everyone read those, don't leave the class!" He yelled, jogging back across the room "Only try the fog spell and anti spell!!" with that he left toward the stair case and the main hall.

The pages he indicated held the instructions for an age line, age changing charm, and age detection spell. None of the pages near these contained information on the spell he'd asked everyone to try. Those who'd read the book, or in fact those who even bothered to check the table of contents they would know that the environment and weather changing spells were on pages 25 through 43. The spell displayed on the board was on page 31.

---

---

Oliver Rivers
de Cloyes@TheHangedMan@josephb

Oliver stared as Bellfree rustled about. He didn't have a negative opinion of the teacher necessarily, but everyone knew that the man was not well suited for a teaching career. For Oliver it was only occasionally an inconvenience, for the most part it led to a relaxing class. Today seemed more put together than usual, even with the frantic running about.

Giving up on trying to make up months of time with his homework he turned to Mike "What do you think he's up to?" Oliver quipped "Do you think it'll take him the whole hour?"

---

---

Potions: Professor Albert Cunningham
Ravenclaw and Slytherin
@Draconequis@Always@The Elvenqueen

As everyone took their seats and unpacked the Proffesor looked on, his cauldron fuming a golden color. Tapping his wand on the desk in front of himself he cleared his through in preparation for a lecture. "Quills out everyone, we need to get started if we're going to get through today's potion." Pausing for a moment he allowed everyone to get ready for notes. "today We will be making a blood replenishing potion, as all of you should already know. Now by the name everyone can assume what it's for, It's much more important to know when to use the potion and of course when not to. This particular potion is used when a wizard has lost profuse amounts of blood, of course if the magic that caused the blood loss is sever enough, it will require a stronger drought or perhaps something more severe..."

The lecture went on to describe how one might actually make the potion, along with some useful tips that were not in the book. He ends by telling all the students that this years prize is a few doses of invigoration drought, "For those days that you just feel tired" he went on to explain. Finally he alloted the rest of the time for making the potion.

[Assistant]
@The Elvenqueen

NAME :Megan Emmeline Arcadia Hanover / Sprite
GENDER :Female
SEXUALITY :Bisexuality
AGE :16
YEAR :6th
HOUSE :Ravenclaw
BLOODSTATUS :Muggle/Squib
========================

Meg chuckled when her friend called her Princess because it was one of her grandparents pet names for her. Then as her best friend settled on her right Melanie Stryder settled on her left which caused her briefly to lose her place in preparing her things in their proper order.

"Yes a Blood Restorative that's what it is.
Goddess knows Aunt Liv has etched it into my brain along with a plethora of other critical information." she said hoping she wasn't visibly blushing

*Talk about being caught between anvil and hammer* she thought as she struggled to devise a balanced approach.

On one side was her best friend and housemate Emira and on her other was the beautiful and desirable Melanie who was as Aunt Livonia called her A Bad Girl Fixation

She sometimes hated that the ghostly witch read her with such ease because it made her worry that others around her could do the same. It was a major reason that Megan tended to act chaoticly at times so as to throw off Liv's perception. But she also had to be careful that her Aunt wasn't using reverse psychology and the effort was mentally taxing.

She picked up her quill thankful for the prof's lecture to distract attention from herself . And as her quill flew across the page of her note book displaying a skill with calligraphy few could match in speed or precision she tried not to think of how wonderful Melanie smelled.

She'd been shocked when last year she'd found herself drawn to the Slytherin beauty and had been troubled by little snippets of fantasy which involved the taller girl. It wasn't that they were both girls that had surprised her but that the one girl at Hogwart's she could crush on was the Queen of Serpents.

[User]
@Always
Melanie Ariana Stryder

"Shouldn't be too difficult..." Melanie shrugged as Proffessor Belfree began to speak. She scrawled as many notes down onto her parchment as she could while he was explaining, and set it down once he seemed to have finished, and indicated that the rest of the lesson would be left for them to prepare their own draught of the blood restoration.

She'd attempted to make this potion once before, at home in the summer of her fourth year. Of course, it had gone horribly wrong because she'd stirred it the wrong way and her mother had essentially made her throw the draught out. "As long as I can remember which way to stir it, that is. she smirked, starting on her preparations of each of the ingredients while she glanced over her shoulder to check on her housemate. "You alright back there, Alyssa?"

[Assistant] "Probably," Mike admitted, turning to the page the professor had told them absently. Finding the subject there to be totally unrelated to anything else the professor said, he glanced up at the board and turned to that page instead. With a sign he found himself mentally committing to do both pages.

[User]
Elvenqueen@RumikoOhara@Draconequis
 Alyssa Samara Chase
Aly huffed as she heard that it was the blood replenisher. She didn't remember it, but it seemed unfair they were actually doing work on the first day of school. It didn't surprise her but it did disappoint her. She flipped her book open to the page about the potion blood-replenishment. She eyed the dificulty set on the page. 'Advanced.' It read making her frown more. She had no chance of doing this right, but she had to try.

She looked down the list of ingredients, and then got them placing them out onto her desk. She began doing her best to follow the directions on the page, though directions were never actually her specialty.

Finishing cutting the fang in half she placed it in and eyed Melonie.  "Yea" She added on, "I think at least"  She couldn't be so sure since she didn't even know what was actually suppose to happen, but she hadn't caused an explosion yet so that was a good sign.

[Assistant]
Elliot Forrester

An unamused look covered Elliot's face as he watched Professor Bellfree run out of the classroom within a minute of the class starting. He opened up the book and looked at the topic that had nothing to do with what Bellfree was asking them to do. "Are you serious?" Elliot said, mainly to himself because the teacher had already left. He noticed Oliver and Mike sitting behind, they were two Hufflepuffs that Elliot had talked to a few times. Mainly to Mike because he was also a chaser. "How does Mckelly think he's a good teacher? Everyone knows he can't even teach!" Elliot said to them both as he turned round to face them.

"Well if he's not going to teach me, might as well do it myself." Elliot got out his wand, pointing it upwards and said, "Nebula." Elliot knew the name of the spell, but hadn't done it before, so he had no idea what to expect. Slowly a thick fog started pouring out of the end of his wand starting to cover the class.

de Cloyes@Classpet@TheHangedMan

[User]
NAME :Megan Emmeline Arcadia Hanover / Sprite
GENDER :Female
SEXUALITY :Bisexuality
AGE :16
YEAR :6th
HOUSE :Ravenclaw
BLOODSTATUS :Muggle/Squib
========================

When Melanie inquired as to Alyssa's progress Meg glanced in her direction. She loved to observe the techniques of others and pick up little tricks that sped or improved her potions.

She had though learned a good deal about the makers.

" Votre Poison vous dévoile" says Megan softly

Then slightly louder but difficult to hear beyond a short range.
 "Not to elbow in Alyssa but some of your trouble stems from seeing potions class as important, something to be conquered and brought under command. Unless you love cooking an see yourself taking that as a career path potions is just a class that needs you to make a better than passing grade.

Who cares if when we graduate some remember we couldn't cook.

Take me for instance; I'm pretty much a veggie serial killer, it's surprising that I haven't been all together banned from the green houses. Who cares that I'll need buy any ingredients I ever use cooking or potion making. I'll hire a gardener"


[System]
Runan Isles Savior Corps

---

Established in the wake of Westwel's destruction, the Runan Isles Savior Corps is by no means the most impressive program on Illun, but it's well-funded and well-run by a few survivors of Westwel's own Corps.

Character Info

Name – Besca Darroh
Age – 35
Affiliation – R.I.S.C.

Originally from Westwel, Besca Darroh has been around Saviors her entire life. Her grandfather had helped fell the Modir who would become "Dragon," and her father had headed Westwel's burgeoning Savior program. She met dozens of pilots, watched as their connection to the Modir ate away at their minds and bodies. Other nations treated their pilots like a resource to be burned through, kept at arm's length in all but public affairs. Besca, however, went out of her way to engage with Westwel's pilots and even piloting candidates, caring after them with a degree of humanity which was, frankly, missing in the programs of other nations. Her methods were derided as frivolous and naïve by her peers, but the pilots appreciated it, which, to her, was all that mattered.

She lost many things in Westwel's fall; her home, her father, her friends, and no small piece of her faith in humanity, but ironically enough she didn't lose her job. When Runa took in her country's refugees, and subsequently acquired their first Savior, they came to the last living member of Westwel's program for help in founding their own.

Nowadays, Besca doesn't often involve herself in the politics of the program. Technically speaking she isn't even chief of operations—a position occupied by the Runan government—but rather, her duties revolve around "pilot maintenance." While she hasn't lost her desire to make life easier for the pilots, she isn't nearly as incorrigibly optimistic or sunny as she once was.

Character Info

Name – Dahlia St. Senn
Age – 18
Affiliation – R.I.S.C.

Dahlia was a toddler when her home was destroyed by the Modir, spirited away from Westwel in the arms of a family friend. She spent the first fourteen years of her life in the quiet, lakeside town of Hovvi. She was, like many children, absolutely enthralled by the Saviors, so when she tested positive and was whisked away into orbit, Dahlia thought her dream had come true. She missed her friends, and her adoptive father, but this was her opportunity to do something important. This was her chance to help.

She had no idea.

Runa's Savior, Dragon, had not been phased by a single pilot until Dahlia entered the cockpit. With its potential finally unleashed, she was able to end invasions within minutes—which was crucial, because she couldn't remain connected for much longer than that before the giant's neural regeneration reached critical levels.

Dahlia has become Runa's WMD, and as such, she actually doesn't pilot as much as she did before R.I.S.C. acquired its two other Saviors. Besca has become rather protective of her, not wanting to risk putting her in situations where she may be forced to over-exert herself, or risk being overtaken.

Character Info

Name – Hadrian Ghaust
Age – 38
Affiliation – R.I.S.C.

Hadrian Ghaust is Helburke personified. He is strong, unrelenting, stoic to a chilling degree, and utterly devastating in the cockpit. Ghaust is also a veteran pilot, having commanded the Savior Marrowman in service of the Helburken crown for 20 years, and despite a phasing speed so slow that he rarely deigns to use his magic at all, he was well on his way to becoming one of his country's most accomplished pilots.

However, Ghaust's priority has always been the fight against the Modir, and Helburke's clamor for political power is something he viewed with silent disdain. To him, using Saviors to settle diplomatic disputes isn't just wasteful, it's shameful. So, when Helburke ordered him to bring Marrowman to bear against the newly-risen Runa's Dragon, he refused. When, then, he was given the ultimatum of going through with the duel or forfeiting his rank and position, he looked his general in the eye, ripped the pilot's medal from his collar, and left his home behind.

Overnight Ghaust was made a Pariah in Helburke, and his home turned against him. He was forced to leave, and though several foreign programs sought him out, Ghaust denied them all, even passing up a pilot's seat in Eusero. Instead, he went straight to the burgeoning program in Runa, who was more than happy to take him.

Character Info

Name – Safie Calhan
Age – 22
Affiliation – R.I.S.C.

R.I.S.C.'s newest pilot, Safie has spent the past year earning her place at Dahlia and Ghaust's sides. Born and raised in Runa's largest city, Queenshand, Safie was one of countless starry-eyed youths who dreamed of the day she'd get to step inside the cockpit of a Savior. A positive connection-test put her on the path, but it was the months upon months of personal training, rigorous study, and nights spent running sims until dawn that pulled her ahead of the other aspirants. With a phase potential speed just above average, she was a perfect fit between Runa's other two pilots.

While Dahlia has accrued something of a heroic mythos about her, she's often reclusive and hesitant to make many public appearances. Safie on the other hand loves to meet the people she's helping, be that with personal visits, answering fan-mail, or simply getting her hands dirty cleaning up after the messier invasions. Some see her approach as distinctly Euseran, but Safie didn't become a pilot for the attention, she became a pilot because it was the right thing to do.

Character Info

Name – Lucis Abroix
Age – 25
Affiliation – Casoban, on loan to the R.I.S.C.

Casoban's sole effort to save Westwel, while ultimately futile, planted the seeds of goodwill between it and Runa. Casoban has always lived in the influential shadows of Helburke and Eusero, but allied with Runa, the two manage a strong presence on the world stage.

As a show of solidarity, Casoban has even begun sending a Savior of its own as backup to Runa's invasions. Enter: Lucis Abroix.

Lucis is perhaps one of Casoban's most beloved pilots, despite having only a handful of deployments to his name. Handsome, personable, with a poetic flare and the voice of an angel, many people back home already consider him the face of Casoban's Savior program—a role he is more than happy to play. Lucis makes regular public appearances, seemingly never missing an opportunity to espouse his love for the beauty of the world, and his burning desire to protect it from the Modir.

[User]
Besca took the brush from Quinn with a nod, and led her to the couch. She stood behind, pulling Quinn's curtain of hair over the end, and got to work. Long, easy strokes, pausing when she reached a knot to straighten it out gently. She still hesitated, still made mistakes here and there, she was certainly much better at it now than she had been before—even if she couldn't quite manage the braid yet.

"Deelie told me about lunch," she said, and her tone was very deliberate. She'd had time to think, and time to make sure she didn't convey even an ounce of disappointment or frustration. Only measured concern, and understanding. "She wanted me to tell you she loves you, and that she's still proud of you. I am too."

Finishing up, Besca set the brush aside and came around the couch. She knelt down in front of Quinn and took her hands. Small, and there was a cold there that she couldn't feel, but that she knew anyway. She'd been thinking about this, too.

"You're Quinnlash. That's who you are, that's what you are. If I have to remind you of that every single day, I will, because it's true. You are not a thing, you're a person." She reached up, gently thumbed the dried tear streaks on her face. Smiled. "You're one of the most important people in the world to me. You'll never be anything less than that."

She wanted nothing more than to keep Quinn here, to just let her be and decompress, but it wasn't her call. Patting the girl's cheek, Besca got up and went to grab her coat from the kitchen counter.

"Alright hun, we're due at the elevator in a few minutes. I'm gonna be right with you the whole time; I've been on the set before, it's not too big. I'll be right off-screen, I'll even stand behind Mona."

[Assistant]
As she deftly twisted her hair into the long plait that it had become so known for on the Aerie, Quinn almost started crying again.

But it was a different kind of 'crying' than before.

Besca and Dahlia. Her family. They were so nice to her. So, so nice. She had never imagined that anybody could be like this before. Never, in all her wildest dreams and fantasies. They helped her when she was at her absolute worst. No matter what she did, how she messed up, they were still always there to help pick her up when she fell. They made her smile. Dahlia had even made her laugh. They were the best family anybody could ever ask for, anywhere.

And for one delicious, impossible moment, Quinn let herself believe she deserved it.

She was quiet as she finished the braid, bringing it around the front to check it before she snapped the elastic on the end to tie it off. Satisfied, she flicked it behind again, settling it against the jacket until everything sat comfortably. The nerves were still tearing at her. Anxiety was still bubbling deep inside her and setting her heart pounding. But Besca would be there. And she and Dahlia were both proud of Quinn. She would pin it to her chest and wear it like a badge if she could.

You're one of the most important people in the world to me.

"Um...Besca?"

She took three long, deep breath. One. Two. Three. Then she stood, moved to the door to wait, and turned, looking at Besca as she plucked her coat from the counter. And she put a smile on her face.

It took so, so much effort. It was fragile. It trembled as she tried not to cry. But it was still a smile. And it was still there.

"You're, um, really important to me too." She paused. "And...thank you. For...you know."

[User]
Besca hugged her as she walked past, quick and tight, and only mumbled a quiet: "I know, kiddo," on their way out. She kept close. When they reached the hangar, they found only a skeleton crew at work, along with the relatively small escort that would be accompanying them down. That was Caster's doing, she guessed. A stalemate and begrudging understanding didn't mean he wouldn't still skimp on her where he could—besides, his people probably expected him to retaliate somehow for her overstep.

It was ultimately meaningless—and she figured he knew that, too. Local PD would have the whole studio cordoned off anyway, and here on home soil Besca doubted there was any real danger. If he tried pulling something like this in Casoban or Eusero, then, well, there'd be words.

A smaller railing sprouted up around a smaller, inner section of the great elevator, still more than enough for the dozen or so departees. The replacement had been designed for compartmental decent, which was honestly refreshing. This way, they wouldn't need half a mile of clearance every time they wanted to send down less than their entire force.

A series of checks from the control room. Loud buzzes, clicking. Green lights flashed along the railing, and with a decompressing hiss, they began to descend.

The hardlight channel was not red this time, but almost entirely translucent, like they were dropped through a glass tube. Mona's studio was in Dorsey, a smaller city encircled by hills and spiderwebbed with thick runs of pastel trees. Even with so many leaves fallen, the world below them was a soft blur of pale blues and gentle pinks. Pockets of seafoam and amethyst dotted the brushy veins, wind lifted and twirled the fallen leaves, made the earth a rippling kaleidoscope broken only by the rises of a few tall buildings.

Besca leaned against the railing, smiling wistfully. "When I was little, my mom used to tell me how beautiful Runa was. Her grandparents were born here, and she always talked about taking me and my cousins to see their old home in hills outside of Queenshand." Her eyes turned to the horizon, to the setting sun and the sky so vivid and contrasting to the pastel world below. "Even on the hardest days, when I look down here, I get a little reminder of what it is we're fighting for. What we're really fighting for." She looked back to Quinn. "What you're helping protect."


[System]
Sex:  Female

 Age:  17

 Experiment Tier:  Test Subject

 Enhanced Trait 1:
Enhanced Vision:
Josyln's enhanced Vision allows her to see with almost startling clarity, making it possible for her to pick up on the smallest of details when she is out in the field or simply trying her hardest to blend in and collect intel. Along with her ability to see clearer than the average human, she is also able to see things further away without the aid of a scope, giving her the ability to be an amazing sniper, though she does not classify as the best as she knows there is always someone out there better than herself. While she can see well enough in the dark, if the area is completely devoid of any form of light (i.e moonlight) she is unable to see just like any average human.

 Enhanced Trait 1:
Downside: Light Sensitivity
While Joslyn enjoys the perks of being able to see far and in complete clarity, this enhancement caused her to develop an acute sensitivity to light. Due to this, she must always wear sunglasses until nightfall and, unless the room is dim enough, while under artificial lighting. Part of her counts this as a blessing in disguise as it offers her a way to hide her eyes from those who are looking for her, as they are the most notable feature that she maintains. Should she be subjected to bright light (i.e a flash bang) without the proper eye protection, her sight is rendered useless until such a time that her retina's are able to adjust and right themselves.

 Enhanced Trait 2:
Heightened Reflexes
 While she is unable to dodge bullets, Joslyn's reflexes have been enhanced in order to allow her reaction time to be far greater than the average human. The messages that travel from her brain to her limbs take far less time to communicate the need to do something, allowing her to react faster and take less time to process situations as they occur. Her heightened reflexes also increase her rate of fire depending on the firearm she is using at the time and aid her well in hand to hand (or overall close range) combat.

 Enhanced Trait 2:
Downside: Twitchy
Due to her uncanny habit of twitching, whether it is when someone touches her or when she is forced into a fast reaction time too many times in a row, Joslyn attempts not to rely on this ability too much. While engaged in close combat, should she take a particularly hard hit (or a harmful hit in general) her body's reflex is typically over exaggerated and could potentially cause more harm than good to herself.

 Faction:  Poltava

 Appearance:

 Height: 5'7
 Weight: 145 lbs
 Distinct Feature(s): HeteroChromia (LE Green / RE teal)

 Clothing:  See second picture for shirt style, typically wearing black jeans or slacks and a pair of black sneakers. Due to her light sensitivity, Joslyn also wears a pair of sunglasses that she rarely takes off.

 Personality:
Joslyn prefers to keep to herself when she can, though she is not shy by any means but seems far from approachable due to the fact that she always looks rather mad, even when she is not. Usually very straight forward and blunt, she hates to sugar coat things and is usually the person to go to if you want the hard truth about something. Once one gets past the bluntness and permanent 'I will kill you' look, she is overall a fun person to be around who enjoys a good joke just as much as the next person.

 Weapons:  SR-25 (Semi-automatic special application sniper rifle 7.62x51mm), PMR-30 (.22 magnum), and a few well placed throwing knives.

 Equipment:
Emergency Kit Containing:
* Lighter
* Compass
* Camelbak
* Disposable Cell Phone
* Emergency Tinder
* Magnesium Starter
* Emergency Rations
* First-Aid Kit (small)
* Canteen
* Aqua Iodine Tablets
* S&W SWAT Knife
* Mini LED Flashlight
* GERBER

 Bio:
 Taken at a young age, Joslyn does not have much of a childhood to remember as she spent most of her years in a facility being put through an array of tests. While she remembers nothing that happened between the ages of 8 and 16, she can remember what few years of clarity she had with her Mother and Father. Both of her parents always seemed to be happy and madly in love with one another, a feeling they also shared with their daughter who never went without. She always went to parks to play with the other local children, a place she assumed she was taken from as she could not remember anything leading up to the week that shew as taken. Despite many attempts to try and recollect the eight years of memories she did not have, she had nothing to show for it as every attempt resulted in a failure.

 When she had managed to escape the facility with the Three Kings, Joslyn had attempted to find her family, wanting to go back to them, to let them know that she was ok despite her genetic modifications. When she got to the outside of the house she remembered living in eight years ago, she found it in the state that she had left it, immaculate and well taken care of. However, when she peered inside, she saw only a shadow of the man her father was sitting in front of the television with beer bottles all around him and a young boy pleading for his attention.

 Not being able to take the sight before her, she left without so much as knocking on the door and found her way into the Poltava faction. While she could fight if need be, she preferred doing things from afar, or simply not at all as she isn't much of a violent person unless the situation calls for it. While she finds no pleasure in what was done to her, she could not bring herself to join the faction that actively attacked the government, despite the fact that she blames them for everything that she saw through that window.

 At present she volunteers as a sniper when one is needed, doing her part in an attempt to earn her keep with those she decided to join. While she has no issues with remaining in the shadows, even she is aware that there are times when violence is a necessity and when the government is after you, sometimes that necessity happens a lot.

[User]
It was...a peaceful afternoon. Birds weren't unnecessarily chirping about, no patrols came through here unless they had a reason to, and the local groundskeeper barely knew what was happening. Peaceful, until she heard a series of loud bangs, and yelling. Jesus, why. Who was doing that at this place.

"Hey! Shut up and fuck off!" She yelled.

Joy's voice was a bit deep for a girl her age, but she made her best effort despite being dead tired to make herself more likely to be mistaken for a man. It was one of the many things she practiced daily to come off more male-like, which was needed in this world. She had to be up on the new kind of deception warfare she was engaging in to hide her identity, or else she'd have a worse time trying to survive.

[Assistant]
Adrian was out "appraising" some battle-scarred properties he could flip for a profit when he stubled upon a burnt-out apartment-complex that could use a bit of shoring-up structurally and some re-wiring to bring it up to code. The place was naturally in a pretty nasty corner of the neighborhood, but there was always something about that seemed to attract tenants to this place.

Flashlight in hand, he waded through the charred remnants until about the second floor where the fire seemed to have mysteriously stopped, leaving only smoke-damaged furniture and soot... aside from being pretty sure there were chunks of floor that would need to be completely replaced, the second floor looked fine enough to start renting-out immediately.

>"Nothing like getting shot at by someone you are trying to help,"

Or so he thought, a bit prematurely as he heard a woman's voice from one of the rooms. Shutting off his torch, he crept upon this unwary spectre, and upon seeing a... dark... lump on a bed, he immediately flicked his torch back on upon it, as though the light would banish it away like a giant cockroach.

It was around then it dawned upon him that perhaps this person was armed, or on drugs, or homicidally-insane...

The moment the light hit the bed, a small groan could be heard, followed by a shout as the figure scrambled out of the bed with an arm over her eyes. "What the fuck?! Turn that damn thing off!" shouted a female, the light of his torch showing a woman in a pair of black slacks and a black long sleeve shirt, "What the hell are you doing in my home?"

With her arm still over her eyes, the young girl reached out for the .22 she usually kept close by and haphazardly pointed it at the intruder. As the light of the torch had ran over her face, she found that she was currently unable to see, the burning within her eyes causing them to tear up as she cocked the hammer back on her handgun. At some point during the night she had set aside her book and retreated to the bedroom to try to get some rest, which only seemed to have lasted a short while.

The moment he saw the gun, his first thoughts were 'hypocritical, much?' as he tried to dodge the figure's blind aiming skills, only to realize she was following the light, which he flicked-off to leave everyone equally in complete baffling darkness.

"Wait, your home?" He queried in the quietness that followed, mostly to re-assure that they were both still there and not imagining the entire encounter. After pausing, he realized that he failed to answer her question, and she asked first; "I was just having a look around. Figured I could salvage the place for a profit. Of course, then you'd have to pay for utilities, but that also means you'd have warm running water and heat this winter." It was possible to see that his brain was already thinking of how to turn a long-term profit out of this. He felt no shame in taking advantage of this obviously hung-over junkie. Still, it was a junkie with a gun and a strong sense of privacy.

"People already know I'm appraising this place, if I don't return with a recommendation to fix this place up, it'll be demolished soon. Mind if I turn my light back on and have a look around?"

[User]
Joslyn tilted her head to the side as she reached out blindly to a pair of sunglasses that were resting on the nightstand, a frown on her face as she pulled them onto her face. "Burning out my retinas is not very kind," she bit out, her voice strained, "I would prefer it if you did not turn the damn thing on, but if you must then go ahead now that my eyes are sufficently covered. As for utilities... I have no real need for them..." As it was clear the man did not seem to mean any harm, she lowered her weapon and slowly stood up, surprisingly steady on her feet though her right hand twitched a couple times.

 The thought that she had more than likely just lost the place she had started to call home was rather bothersome, she really didn't want to put herself on the raidar and this place had helped her prevent that. Letting out a small sigh, she rubbed her face, careful to avoid ther sunglasses, "Look, could we work something out so I can stay here? I don't have a job so paying utilities isn't even in my abilities."

 Adrian rubbed his stubbled chin, thinking at the girl's predicament before replying,"Well, sorry about your eyes. What if I could get you a job?" He fumbled around the dark room -not wishing to provoke further ire from the hostess- until he found a suitable chair to sit upon as he watched the figure pace around the room, she seemed restless.

 "I run a bar, and the hours are long, I could use someone to help serve drinks and keep the conversations entertaining for the paying customers..." His offer started, quickly outlining the jist of what sort of work he'd have her perform. Nothing difficult unless she had some sort of severe social anxiety issues, and even then... "The bar is quite dimly lit, I'm sure you'll fit right in." He smiled warmly at the slight jab at her little quirk.

 "In return you may use this room as you please during and after repairs are made, you'll be paid for food, or if you desire to be more discrete, can have it brought-in." He wasn't sure why he offered the last part about bringing food up for her, probably just as an excuse to make sure she didn't become some sort of shut-in crazy cat-lady or tried slitting her wrists.

 "You can bring in guests and pets, but I better not be finding any animal-sacrifices in the crawlspaces. And you"ll be responisble for cleaning up their messes." He warned, only half-jokingly, one time he had this tennant that... just... cats aren't supposed to be bent that way...

 "I am not very keen on cats, or animal sacrifice... that does not seem very..." Joslyn's voice trailed off and she let out a small sigh, "I believe I would enjoy working for you if I may, and I would not mind eating there, unless you would prefer my meals be taken in here?"

 Since he had not turned on his torch, she removed her sunglasses and trained mismatched eyes on him, her look curious. Everything that he had said to her was rather interesting and seemed to hold a promise to it, though she would have to hope he would not delve in too deep if she told him she would need some time off to take care of other matters should she be called upon. Though her twitching did not make her the best, she was good at many things that she was called upon for on the rare occasion her faction became entrenched with government issues.

 "So where is this bar located that you would have me working at? Is it close by?" she finally asked, "And when would you have me begin work there? I would assume that if you are willing to offer a complete stranger that you found living in a place you are trying to fix up, you must not have many people working for you or willing to do so?"

 "Well, I was speaking of for when we're closed on sundays. Even then. I can't have you trying to get-by on only one or two meals a day." He explained, noticing her eyes gleaming at him with keen interest.

"The bar is just up the road on your left, can't miss it." He answered, indicating it was just north along Wythe Avenue. "You can start tonight if you'd like, but I suggest you think it over after visiting as a guest first." His tone was that of someone who felt like giving the other person a chance to back-out, but then explained; "It looks like you could use a good meal and some rest before going to work, I'll be paying. Ask for Adrian when you show-up." He finished his offer, figuring she'd better see for herself what she was in for.

 "Yeah... sure... I'll stop by tonight to see what the place is about and if I think it would be a good fit," she replied before letting out a slow breath. She doubted that she would be able to get any more rest now that she was wide awake between talking to the man and the burning her retina's had taken from his torch. "My name is Joslyn... look forward to possibly be working with you."


[System]
Age: 16

Gender: Female

Themesong: The Valedictory Elegy / Hedgehog's Dilemma / Cold Rain
Class: Bladeknight

Appearance: Hazel is a youthful girl with soft white skin. She has long straight red hair that reaches down to the small of her back. She has a small frame, and stands at a rather average height of 5'3. Hazel has a heart-shaped face adorned with deep green eyes. Hazel is graceful,and is deceptively strong despite her petite appearance. She is sure of step and has an almost commanding gait, oft earning the attention of others in the room, appearing as if she is the definition of 'confidence', whether or not this is true.

History: Hazel never really knew her parents, and has never experienced a conventional domestic lifestyle. At a very young age Hazel found herself abandoned into the foster care system, her birth parents unable and unwilling to support the child they refused to get rid of. Hazel bounced around foster homes, but never had good experiences in any of them. She lacked any sort of parental guidance, never able to call any of her foster parents 'mom' or 'dad'. As expected from one raised in such a difficult environment Hazel became a 'problem child'. The apathy of her foster parents turned to resentment, and Hazel's difficult home life turned worse as they began to hate her. Hazel, despite being a seemingly normal girl, had trouble making friends at her school, and she became aggressively anti-social during this time. People began to shut her out, and she found herself without any sense of self-worth, believing herself to be useless. As time progressed this shot sense of self-worth morphed into a very aggressive ego, forcibly asserting herself as 'better' then those around her to compensate. AS she made the transition from Middle to High School it was revealed to her that her current foster parents decided to get rid of her, enrolling her in AcadeMMO.

As she made the transition into AcadeMMO she thrived. She took quickly to her lessons, and naturally picked up the art of swordplay. Some would call her a prodigy, and this only served to feed into her growing ego. Other people began to take an interest in her, and suddenly she found herself near the top of the social food chain of AcadeMMO, her skills attracting friends. As people flocked around her she put on the mask of someone she wasn't, and slowly began to mimic the way her friends acted, becoming a regular kid. A regular kid with a massive ego masking a crushingly low sense of self esteem, but a regular kid nonetheless. Despite all the people around her Hazel still feels alone.

Statistics:
 When it comes to fighting, Hazel holds a simple philosophy: The best defense is a strong offense

 - Level - 2
 - HP - 70 (7)
 - MP - 30 (3)
 - Attack - 35
 - Magic - 10
 - Speed - 22
 - Accuracy - 15
 - Defense - 5
 - Evasion - 5
 - Resistance - 5

Spells/Skills:

True Strike: Finishing Move [2]- This move is Hazel's self-perfected finisher. The move is designed to finish a weakened enemy, and is only usable if the enemy *is* weakened. She targets the weakened enemy, and her blade pulses with magic energy. The attack will finish off simple creatures and other weak enemies, and will merely launch an blow with an additional 15 attack at stronger enemies. At higher levels the move can kill stronger creatures. Consumes 20 MP. Command: "Let's end this!"

Hemorrage [1]- Hazel allows the magic inside her to guide her blade, and finds an artery. The skills adds an extra 5 Attack to her blow, and causes the enemy to begin bleeding. If the enemy does not have blood the skill does not work, for obvious reasons. Consumes 10 MP. Command: "Bleed!"

[User]
"I'm glad to hear that." Hayato smiled a little, though his eyes didn't change. He watched as she drew the long sword from the supply, studying how she held it.

"Alright Hayato, prepare yourself." She took initiative and charged, nearly meeting Hayato within seconds. She rose her sword with both hands and opened with a simple swipe, downwards and to the left diagonally, already posing for her next attack. She was faster, and with her aim and power he wasn't able to avoid. He turned his shoulder, crossing his sword over it. The edges of the two wooden weapons collided with a loud crack. The impact sent Hayato flying backwards, barely able to regain his feet without being bowled head over heels. His eyes were wide in surprise and his shoulder throbbed painfully; no doubt he'd have a bruise soon. She really was strong! He grimaced; he hadn't been expecting a girl her size to have such strength.

But she had raised her blade up high with both hands before attacking, and had followed through that strike with the movement of her body, both of which left big openings. Her defenses were much weaker than her offense, he just had to increase his speed to take advantage of that!

To avoid her followup he jumped to the side, but as soon as he landed he held his sword near his hip as if he were drawing it from the sheath. Suddenly its edge sparked with a colored light, black with a hint of blue, and the same energy crackled at Hayato's heels.

"Blade Trail!" He shot forward at high speed, as fast as Hazel had before, and his sword lashed out horizontally at her ribs.

---

[Assistant]
"自慢."

Grunted a student near one of the windows on the second story, he gazed out at the aircraft taking into the air and away - shaking his head as it did so. His eyes kept their gaze on the showoff who walked out of it.

Ryouta Himonaga placed one hand on his cheek, resting his head against the ledge, the wind gently swept his autumn brown hair as he did so. He had skipped the newcomer's welcome speech. Not that he found it boring or was being purposely delinquent, it just did not make any sense since he was not exactly a newcomer anymore. He and his village had moved to AcadeMMO a year ago when their town was ruined, most of them anyway, and it was much more informal than this. Trying to be responsible He still greeted and helped any new lost souls he met, the premises were much larger than what most of them were used to living in, that much he could tell - and with the whole semester beginning, some were bound to loose their way and stumble about.

But no such encounters today.

When the new student walked out of his sight, he lost that moment of interest.

Taking a deep breath, he turned around and watched the incoming horde of unfaRmiliar faces. While he did not know who they were individually, he could tell them apart by the uniforms they wore. Everyone had or eventually will have a unique way to dress eventually, even if they were the same class there will always be differences in the way they fight - and your uniform will show it, no matter how subtle. The most obvious were of course the ones between Magicians and Martialists, He himself wore a Magi's outfit complete with hood and long sleeves. Two symbols sewn in cloth wrapped around his right arm like a crest of sorts, representing class and speciality. There was in the higher band, an octogon with a cross embedded in it's center. The other, a heptacle that was surrounded in mythic symbols. He was a handsome looking individual with rather refIned features, asian in appearance but with dyed hair and a slightly pale skin. Though his wardrobe made him look slimmer, he was not too lanky and managed to keep his posture straight. A noble looking weapon sat at waist level in a highly decorated cover, it seemed like a sword of oriental origins and had an aura of elegance to it.

His eyes wandered fRom face to face, greeting them with a wry smile as they approached, but honestly, it started to feel awkward very quickly. His attention was distracted a neon red glow shortly, to his relief - someone had already begun practicing in the sparring rooms! Taking leave of the window sill, Ryouta briskly and gladly made his way to the arena. Something interesting was about to happen, he could sense it.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_**Beep!**_

Was the sound of the glass door as it opened for a new student.

He sauntered to the spectator's seats and found a nice central area where he could see the whole match. There were two students, martialists, they seemed like they were mid-match. He grabbed a packet of rice crackers which he had hidden in his sleeves and began snacking on them as he watched.

_Munch, munch ..._

[User]
Hazel smirked as the wooden sword made contact. She could tell he didn't expect the strength of the blow. However, as she began to follow through on her next attack, Hayato's voice boomed. "Blade Trail!" *Damn! Insolent bastard!* She moved to block the blow, but she didn't move fast enough to stop the Katana. She wheeled around quick enough to disrupt the blade, but didn't stop the attack, and it glanced her side. She started to tumble to the ground, but stopped herself, balancing on one hand. Her side throbbed. She already had her next attack in her head, and decided on a number of ways to follow up. She pushed off the ground and sprung straight up, "Bleed!" She shouted. A red shimmer coated her blade as she raised it over her and brought it crashing down towards Hayato's neck.

Typically using a skill like Hemorrhage was frowned upon in live weapons practice, since, after all, having a student bleed out didn't help anyone, but Hazel knew a wooden sword wouldn't apply the bleed effect of Hemorrhage, her attack would just hit harder.

[Assistant]
Hayato tried to press the advantage when she stumbled, but his Skill ran out too quickly. Again she attacked; the openings she left with these wide swings weren't as helpful as they could be, because her speed and strength was so great. A true example of sheer power. Hayato managed to get his sword up, one hand on the hilt and the other along the blade, using both arms to push back as Hazel's sword came down on the middle of his weapon. Still she easily overpowered him, and his wooden sword actually cracked; the Skill she'd used had put even more wallop into that one!

He was knocked to the ground and rolled, feeling the hard impact with the floor nearly knock the wind out of him.

_Is this the power of someone who's been doing Special Assignments? Or...am I just that weak?_

He managed to get up, even though his shoulder was aching now and he was breathing hard. He couldn't give up yet! He charged Hazel head on this time, bringing down his blade. Unlike her his strike was direct, no raising of the arms, just using the bottom hand to pull the handle of the blade while the top hand pushed forward, using leverage and only relying on the strength of the bicep and below. Even with the difference in strength, maybe if he added more power...

"Flash Blade!" Again his sword ignited with black and blue energy, even though sweat broke out along his forehead. Not much MP left...

---

[User]
Ryouta winced and bit down harder on his crackers as he watched the girl go for the boy's neck, he shirked backwards as he imagined the result.

"**Crazy woman.**" He commented in perfect english. Surely there was some law against this.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ryouta let out a relieved puff of air when he saw the boy blocking it, there was a loud crack of wood being splintered that echoed the halls. He was thrown to the ground by the impact though.

But the boy managed to get up, more eager now it seems, to get back at his opponent.

Ryouta slowly resumed his snacking but he shifted closer to the command console that was near the doorway. There was an intercom anyone could use in case of emergencies.

[Assistant]
Hazel laughed as her blow connected. Hayato went down, and she took the opportunity to call out to him. "This is fun Hayato! We'll have to do this again. Maybe I'll make a swordsman of you!" She grinned as he went in for another blow. She could tell now that she had him on the ropes. After his next attack she'll go for the finisher. He charged at her again, this time going for a much more direct attack. She realized they were being watched, and she decided to make a show of it. She braced herself for Hayato's attack and met his sword charge. She held her blade upside down and attempted to swerve the path of his blade away from her. Her efforts were mostly successful, taking a glancing blow to her side. As the blade swerved past she spun around Hayato and found herself at his back.

Her sense of showmanship was impeccable, and she knew that a 'final blow' was a real crowd pleaser. Hayato was on the ropes, and she thought she could pull it off. She raised her sword with excessive showmanship, once again opting for a large sweeping blow. "Let's finish this!" She called out, voice booming. Her sword glowed a brilliant blue, and she brought it down on Hayato. The move was a kill move, she knew, but she was very careful not to go for a spot that would kill him. She angled her blade past his head, intending it to come down on his sword arm. She would cause no permanent damage. Hopefully.

OOC Note: I described Hazel's final blow in my skills as a move that will kill small weakened creatures, but against Hayato it will probably just make his arm hurt like hell.


[System]
Gender: Male

 Appearance:

 Age: 53

 Race: Twili

 Skills: Assassination, Chi Blocking, Alchemy.

 Magic Abilities: Shadow: Manipulation

 Weapons: Syringe, throwing knives, scalpel, poison darts, brass knuckles

 Inventory: poison potion, sleeping potion, paralyzing potion, green potion. Twili Mask

 Bio: Regol in his youth was fascinated with that of the Light Realm. Every morsel of information he could obtain he would devour. Alas he could not enter such a land of beauty, for he was not a light dweller, he was a Twili. It was forbidden for a Twili to walk among the light dwellers, and down right impossible. Regol set out to find a way though. Through many years of study in the Ancient Twili arts of alchemy, Regol fashioned a mask that resembled what the light dwellers called a plaque mask. The mask was filled with a magical potion that allowed the rays of light to not harm him and allow him to walk among the light dwellers without his body turning to shadow.

 Of course sadly there was no way to enter the Light Realm from the Twili Realm after the Twilight Mirror was destroyed by Queen Midna. Though Regol refused to believe that the portal to the Light Realm was all but lost. One day during one of his searches through his library of vast knowledge an old prophet came to him and told him to seek out the Queen's chamber of the Twilight Castle, in there was the key to what he sought most. Regol decided to follow the prophet's word and snuck into the castle. He found that the Queen's mirror was yet another portal that he could use. Though before he could use it, the Queen found him intruding into her quarters and about to use the portal and tried to stop him. He killed her by accident with one of his poisons that splashed onto her face when the veil broke when the two were wrestling. With the Queen dead and himself responsible, Regol fled into the portal and into the Light Realm.

 Regol found that his mask indeed worked, and also fouled people into thinking he was a real doctor. He had studied the light dwellers from afar and never in person, he couldn't allow an opportunity like this to pass him up. Regol performed many tests on various people, and cut more than his fair share of bodies. For a few years he did do his best to be a real doctor, some of his potions helping the sick, while others killing them. Regol also came to finding that he had great magical powers in the realm of the light dwellers. His Twili heritage gave him great powers of shadow. It was not long before he over used his powers and got himself into a sticky situation. The town claimed him to be a witch and to be killing them more than helping, which was indeed true. Regol tried to fight back, but a whole town he could not defeat alone. His trial was over without a single defense and he was to be hung, but before he could a man of God came to the people and convinced them he was not a witch, but part of God's greater plans for the people. That man was Thallus who Regol gave his undying loyalty to for saving his life.

Regol now serves Thallus and God from behind the scenes and in the shadows. He is second in command of the Templar's and will give his life for their goal of order, and to protect the people of the world from harm, even if it does mean sacrificing some to save the many. The more he serves the more he believes in God and that he is truly trying to help the people as a agent of God who works among the shadows.

Name: Demoko

 Gender: Male

 Appearance:

 Age: since the Beginning of Time

 Race: Precursor

 Skills: Demoko's knowledge of defending against the dark arts is unparallel to even the gods. He is a great magician, if not one of the best in all of time.

 Magic Abilities: Demoko is the master of time in all of the lands, all time in the land flows through him. Demoko can see the past, present, and always changing future. He can also use his time abilites in battle, but given his pacifist attitude, he retains from using his magic powers from physically hurting people, and tends to use his powers to the attacker is tired out or in a more reasonable state.

 Weapons: Demoko has no weapons and has never held a weapon once, except when moving the Master Sword from its last resting place to the Temple of Temple.

 Inventory: Demoko has three legendary books, that hold numerous spells, stories, and recipes. Besides that, he carries a small bottle of dirt.

 Bio: Demoko was the first Sage created by the goddesses, the Sage of Time. He witnessed the birth of the world and more importantly Hyrule. He watched over Hyrule as the goddesses commanded him to do so. From his blood Her Grace was created who helped watch over the land with him. For hundreds of years he watched, protected over the land, but slowly things fell out of balance. Evil slowly began to enter the world of Hyrule. The goddesses blamed Demoko for this, they believed he was a flawed creation, worthless, failed. For this they stripped him of his status and banished him, but allowed him to keep his powers, for they could not strip him of them. Since they used the most powerful magic to create him, the lengths they would have to go to would not be worth the efforts. Demoko watched as Her Grace sent the last of the surviving races into the skies and returned to fight the rest of the evil that remained. He could not watch as what he was created for was slowly destroyed. Demoko took his own soul and turned it into the Spirit of the Hero that would be the protector of Hyrule for all of time.

 With his parting gift, Demoko traveled the world, even through and across time. He is a mystery to the world, and his origins are too, except to the immortals and powerful deities across the nations. His existence is nothing than a myth, scholars only suggesting there must have been a Sage of Time at one point, since there was a sage for all the other classes. Whether people believe in such a thing or not is no concern to Demoko, who rather have people not know of his existence then to know and know of his greatest blunder. He has appeared in many places since none know who he is, he can walk freely among the people. He spends his time helping those in times of need.

Demoko can mostly be seen following the Legendary Heroes who carry the Spirit of the Hero he created, but not literally of course. Demoko last revealed himself to the land of Termina, helping the Hero of Time by resetting the three day cycle every time he pleaded to the heavens for more time. After that he vanished, over the decades and centuries. He foresaw that the Hero to save the Twilight Princess required no aid from him, and traveled across time to help the Hero of the Winds use the Phantom Hourglass. Demoko returned back after the Hero defeated Bellum and returned to find that Hyrule had been saved from disaster from Ganondorf and the Twilight Princess saved. Demoko has waited for centuries now for when he would be needed again. The time has come again and he is needed now more than ever.

Name: Father Thallus

 Gender: Male

 Apperance:
 Age: Unknown

 Race: Unknown

 Skills: Master Thallus is a master swordsman. He has spent his whole life mastering the sword. Along with his sword skills, Thallus is a good politician as well as a persuader, he can twist anything and make people believe it.

 Magic Abilites: Thallus was once a master in Time and Space, but his master skills have now stretched themselves across the other classes of magic, but he rarely uses magic in front of the public as to not ruin his image.

 Weapons: Sword, Dagger, Dagger, Dagger, Brass Knuckles

 Inventory: Wolfo Mask of tracking, Cloak of Deception, Gauntlets of Strength, Pendant Cross of Vision, Boots of Muffling, Red Potion, Green Potion, Blue Potion

 Bio: Thallus origins are as much of a mystery to all. He claims to have come across the Great Sea, through Termina and up into Hyrule. Most people believe it, not caring much. Thallus does not speak much of where he comes from, but mostly that he is a man of God and that he will lead the masses into salvation.

[User]
As Sophos and Gaios slowly moved upwards, following the small motes of light the elder created on occasion, they were surprised to come across Demoko, standing before what appeared to be a 3-Dimensional map of Castle Town.

"Well, hello there my friend. It seems circumstance is behaving quite erratically, what with all this splitting up and reuniting we seem to be doing, lately." Sophos greeted the Sage with a chuckle, a smile crossing his face. "Quite the setup you have there, if I do say so myself."

While Sophos reintroduced himself to Demoko, Gaios set about looking around the area. He wanted to make sure there weren't any potential avenues for ambushers to attack from. I certainly hope he knows what he's doing...we barely escaped that bridge.

[Assistant]
Link knew he had to get it together, everyone was depending on him, or maybe they weren't after locking away part of who he was. He was just someone who was wandering along with them at this point who was proving to be pretty useless and not athletic enough to save someone important. Maybe now that he was on even ground and not wanting to kill himself on his ascent, Caelan sharing the same thoughts too. Sighing when he suggested he go forward he waved his hand gently to say it was okay, his eyes going to Regol who was on the verge of making fun of them on the spot. Good thing the guy couldn't talk, it certainly helped him avoid unnecessary aggression because of his poor choice of words. "This Princess better be worth all this…"

Watching as a map was manifested he stared at it for a moment, watching as Regol's finger pointed them in the direction they were going to take. She was still so far away, but what was worse was they had to go through the place rather than up or through secret passages. This meant they were going to have to dodge a certain someone or else she'd see through their disguises. "I've uhh…seen how soldiers usually walk…so uhh, lead the way. I don't particularly want to die in this place so let's not get caught too". He knew the danger that getting caught brought and he didn't have a means to attack back. He should probably stay in the back if that was the case, these two could use magic after all.

[User]
The Princess better be worth all of this. Caelan understood to a degree why they were saving the Princess, why they were putting themselves in such risk for her sake, but yet again he found himself questioning his actions. Or perhaps it was his resolve that was being brought into question. He had always fancied himself an adventurous sort and delving into crypts was intimidating in its own right yet he'd never deferred from an adventure before. Whatever shambling beasts laid in wait he had approached them head-on, or more likely found some way to circumvent then and avoid drawing more in. Here it was much the same he supposed only those who were his enemy were far more intelligent, and far more powerful. Fiona's name hung in his mind like an executioner's axe over his neck just waiting to come down any second, the tension felt making his entire body sweat. Was the Princess worth all of this? Who knew, it sure wouldn't be though if they all ended up dead.

As if their efforts weren't daring enough Regol had a much bolder strategy for them hereon out: directly to the Princess. No shortcuts or secret passages to get around guards, they would adorn their disguises again and just hope for the best. Fortune favored the bold as many treasure hunters liked to say, but then Caelan was accustomed to seeing the selfsame treasure hunters killed by traps, or by blindly rushing in and being swarmed by a group of monsters. Fortune favored the bold perhaps but fortune also had a sick sense of humor. Given the alternative here was to try and circle back on his own and escape the only viable option was to go with Regol's plan and continue on. Much like the bridge Caelan found himself going along with the suicidal plans of these people whether he wanted to or not, a fact he resigned himself to with a low sigh.

"Just walk like you've got something stuck up your rear right? Easy." Humor was a great defense he'd found though it did little to alleviate the tension he was feeling now. Swallowing hard he slipped the magicked ring back onto his finger and managed a weak smile as he took on another appearance. Maybe they would get through all of this without a single worry and the Princess would escape with them. Maybe Fiona was out on a patrol somewhere and they wouldn't have to worry. Or... Maybe she somehow knew they were here, was sitting right outside of the Princess' room, waiting for them to show their unwitting faces. Nervously rubbing at his face Caelan turned to Link and felt somewhat reassured he wasn't the only one worrying so much about all of this. "H-Hey... After that mess on the bridge this is nothing, right?" he whispered, allowing himself a weak chuckle, "Things are going to be fine... Just fine..."

[Assistant]
Demoko turned to see Sophos and Gaios, he put the spell book he had in his hand down as he greeted them both. "I would say I am happy to see that you both made alive, but you know I am quite incapable of producing positive emotions. Though in terms of just vocabulary, yes I am happy you both made it." He then proceeded to pick up his spell book once more. There temporary headquarters was built in the ancient ruins beneath Castle Town and had a concealment spell that prevented them from being detected. "Link, Regol, and Caelan went to collect supplies from someone loyal to our cause, but they have not return oddly. I risk not pursuing until I know with certainty something has happened to them."

--------------------------------------

Regol believed they could pull it off. Fiona very seldom walked about the castle just for the hell of it. She would no doubt be in the grand throne room awaiting Father Thallus' return. This plan would work, it had to work, and a determined attitude was half the battle right? The map disappeared and Regol took the lead, ushering for Link and Caelan to follow behind him like an escort of sort. Once they were in formation he walked quickly down the hallway. The interior of the castle was quite large, the hallways with large chandeliers, armored statues, mosaic windows, and long eloquent red carpets were quite impressive for those unaccustomed to the royal lifestyle. The hallway they were in alone could fit 5 horses side by side.

As the group hurried to their destination at what seemed like an eternity of fast walking down a few random hallways, they finally made it to the central staircase. Four Templar Castle Knights stood guard, but didn't both to look at Regol, or Link and Caelan who were in their Templar disguises. As they approached two staffs locked and prevented them from entering. "State your business... Oh my...? Brother Regol??? We had been informed you died in great battle against the heathen pirates! How... Wha... How come your return was not announced..." One of the Templars asked, now becoming more suspicious, Regol raised his hand nonchalantly at Caelan as to usher him to speak on his behalf. Caelan seemed to be the wittier on the spot thinker here compared to Link, at no offense to him of course.


[System]
"I'm still alive, and I can still fight. Shouldn't that be all that matters, at this point?"
-PILOT-
(obviously not as naked as this)
Age: 15

Personality: Lora is unique for having a sort of deadpan confidence, seeming be reserved on the outside but in reality being very empowered and sure of her capability. Of course, she's not headstrong, either, and in fact proves to be rather patient. Off the field, she performs small efforts and tasks in hopes to play a little more than her part. The most emotion she can be noted showing is largely in combat, as if she has some deep-seated feelings regarding the Cruxi (and boy, does she).

Motives: Repel the Cruxi and ensure a better future.

Background:
People who say Lora went through hell don't realize that good people shouldn't go to hell.

The young Lora grew on a colony somewhat on the farther reaches of human society. Her family was one of the most esteemed on that world, and not because they had luxury. No, it was because they shared their luxury, working to create and distributor new technologies to benefit the people and ensure what happened to Earth would not so easily repeat itself. Lora was exposed to this and more, and so learned the better qualities of life and what they meant.

To say it all changed when the Cruxi appeared seemed cliche and inaccurate. Within 24 hours, it all disappeared - homes, families and lives alike. A still-young Lora and her younger brother were one of the few that managed to make it, of the single escape ship that managed to survive the ordeal. She wished she could stop crying, that after she cried all her tears, her voice went hoarse, and her heart ached the worst, it would stop. But the pain never stopped.

Lora practically begged to be enlisted in the project to weaponize Framewerks. She wanted so many things, but the only ones she could hope to get were revenge, and hope itself. She would gladly learn to take life if it meant no more had to suffer like she did. She would become stronger, far stronger than she was on that day of defeat, as strong as she needed to be to take down the enemy. And even if she died doing it, Lora was going to bring peace and happiness back to every last human who deserved it.

Notable Deaths: Pretty much anyone she was related to by blood, except her brother. A couple of her close friends also didn't make it.

Other Things: People think that Lora doesn't show her emotions because she is very scarred inside. While they are partly right, she also represses her emotion to ensure she can remain stable during Framewerk combat. It works for the most part, but there are times where she can get a little loose.

-FRAMEWERK-
Code Name: Caliburn

Primary Weapons System:
 The right arm is equipped with an X-02 Lightstriker, a particle cannon with a trio of edged prongs circling the barrel. The weapon accelerates a payload of Tau particles while charging up to one million volts of energy along the prongs, before the whole blast is released in a high-impact bolt.
 The Lightstriker has a great yield with adept stopping power, but is slow to fire and has difficulty piercing through armor. When you're given the ample time to charge the cannon to full capacity, however, that shot is guaranteed to put at least a smoldering crater in most any physical armor imaginable.
 In the event of a close-range hazard, the weapon's prongs are reinforced to act as an emergency melee weapon. Prolonged use is ill-advised, as damage may dramatically hamper the Lightstriker's stability and risk further damage if fired.

Secondary Weapons Systems:
 Equipped on each shoulder blade is a paired GAU-19 heavy rotary cannon and a TOR-VN railgun system. In the event a pilot wants a quicker, more traditional method of dishing out damage, they will switch primary weapons control to this weapons array. It is then armed by flipping them over onto a set of shoulder mounts, a relatively brief process provided there is ample room for it.
 The chainguns and railguns are fired in their respective pairs, the former more rapid and culling while the latter heavier and more accurate; however, both take a bit of time to wind up before they can effectively fire, however less so than the Lightstriker. For safety reasons, the Lightstriker is powered down (even though at that time it cannot be directly controlled anyway) and the upper range of movement for the arms is locked down.

 Also equipped is a pair of infantry-grade missile launchers on the collarbone in front of the shoulder, and a reinforced shield unit on the left arm. Both are designed to be used independently of the major weapons systems - the shield unit especially is designed to withstand most heavier blows, while reinforcing the right arm enough to enable a fair medium of punching and bashing.

Frame Armor Type: Medium-Heavy ; designed to be a powerful weapons platform with a minor in tanking.
Solid Synchro Rate: 100% [MAX!!!]
Special Ability: -CLASSIFIED-

[User]
"Oui, Merci. So, What say we four team for the now and we can ro-sham-bo for the winner? Just to irk the commanders. I think Diver would tell us what we are going to choose before us."

Krista watched as the Komodo fell out of the Rose's grasp and land on the ground below.

 "Ouch. I hope he's alright," she thought.

The Rose coasted over to the Archer before settling between the Archer and the other Werks. Romeo's voice came over the communications channels.
"Anyone not wanting to fight, ten second immunity. Anyone who wants to fight, we count down to one together."

Krista could tell that it was directed at the group. She opened a line to Romeo.  "I don't think Command is going to let the battle be decided by rock-paper-scissors, but I do appreciate the reprieve. I want to head over to Zone E, but I want to know what you are thinking."

Romeo smiled as he could still control his facial muscled while till paralyzed from the neck down in his pod. He had gotten the opportunity for vengeance early in and felt better for it. Now he could keep archer safe without distraction and who would it be to open a private link now than her at that moment.

 "I don't think Command is going to let the battle be decided by rock-paper-scissors, but I do appreciate the reprieve. I want to head over to Zone E, but I want to know what you are thinking."

I think that as long as we keep together, we can take on the universe. I would prefer the plains as we have clear field of vision in all directions. But. If YOU want to go to E, then WE go to E.

Krista an affirmative noise. "Alright then, I'll leave first. Cover me please."  She had the Archer head away from the group while keeping the Archer's main gun pointed in their general direction. Activating the Archer's thrusters, Krista flies into Zone G and lands at the base of the massive piliar. She turns the Archer around and places it to her back. "Romeo, I am waiting for you in Zone G. I'll try to cover you while you get over here."

[Assistant] Ryan curses as the glue mine goes off, taking away his number one skill: mobility. He sends a few louder choice words over the radio as Koehler picks him up then drops him. Then, a barrage of missiles, from the Caliburn, bombards Macabre. Red lights are flashing every where, Ryan quickly checks his diagnostics. All systems are still functioning however the Frame's hull is damaged... Pretty badly. So Ryan and Macabre are wounded, stuck, and pissed off. Macabre sends Visceral in an upward motion, hoping to disable Caliburn's other arm. Then all of the Frame's boosters ignite, attempting to free itself from the glue.

[User]
"Uhh, I'll try," Elora responded to Koehler's order as Diver flew closer to Macabre. "But I think you should forfeit, you don't sound-" She then backed away by instinct when Caliburn opened fire on on the other stuck Framewerk. She could have taken that attack in place of Ryan, but her meek nature took over her. The two were now about to free themselves from the trap, so Elora had to act fast if she wanted to save him. There wasn't much time for him left; his Framewerk wasn't supposed to take any damage, and it was a miracle Macabre was even functional at this point. She heard the announcement, but ignored it, too swept up in the moment to realize that could have had been something for her to consider.

She thrust around to Caliburn's backside, and activated her drones' scanning routine again. She typed on the keyboard like a maniac; her fingers nailed lines of code on the program while her eyes darted back and forth on the screen. She came up with the idea of bypassing repetitive data already collected when the Black Komodo's data was processed and repurposing the scanning to only take data unique to the Caliburn model.

She collected the data in a new record time, and as she was transmitting this data to Ryan and Koehler she was already executing offensive mode on her drones: the moment they finished scanning, the disc-like objects extended laser turrets from their insides and began firing on Caliburn. They were mildly effective, comparable to mosquito bites on a human, but they came in a mass swarm of shots, and thus sure to distract even the most focused of pilots. Then Elora raised up Diver's ABR and revved it up just as the Caliburn freed itself from the glue. The Framewerk aimed it at one of the three weak points she discovered on the mighty giant, which was a joint between the Caliburn's chassis and the thruster systems. Elora bit her tongue, and opened fire.

[Assistant]
Koehler, still feeling really goddamn strange, went over his options. Thinking, he really, really should forfeit... "Fff... What the hell is wrong with me?!". It's almost like his damn psyche was slowly killing itself behind his back. Is something wrong with the neural systems of his werk? "Goddamnit command! I KNOW YOU'RE LISTENING! What the hell is this? Is this a joke? Give me a reading damnit, what the hell is wrong with my Werk? Is something wrong with me?". Hnng... It was getting painful to think. No matter, he's had worse trips. "Give me something command, while you get your HEADS OUT OF YOUR ASSES, I'll be trying to continue anyway!...Fuck..."

Koehler flew off, not even saying goodbye to Elora, and went for the Tower. Hopefully, at the top, he could get his bearings. ...Well, and if someone was already there, he'll have to just punch their shit repeatedly. ...What if he just made the tower fall over? That'd be hilarious! A nice big thump could get his mind out of the gutter it was in. Maybe. He paid no heed to anything else, still sort of in his confused, half-broken state.

...Wait, what the fuck was he doing? He said he'd help Elora, he should help Elora! Right? Oh wow, he really had no idea what he was doing! Fuck, he really should just forfeit. "...Hah...heheheheheh! Goddamn Elora, you really are smart aren't you? I should forfeit, I can't continue! I forfeit! I forfeit! Heh... I forfeit..." His Werk simply stopped its' engines and glided, falling face-first into the base of the tower, the pain being relayed to Koehlers' own head.

Koehler then turned his Framewerk until it faced skyward, sitting, resting its' back on the Tower. He watched as Elora and the others did battle. He told himself what he thought of the situation, "...God damn Harold you really are that pathetic...", then burst into a short, quiet fit of laughter. With slowly regaining composure, he wondered "What's wrong with me?"

[User]
Roxy and Diver closed in on the trapped pair of Frames, and Lora was now certain she was in big trouble. Her missile storm was enough to blast Macabre's meager armor apart, but it did little to actually cripple the Frame, and she had no time to wait for the launchers to reload. In the meanwhile, Diver was able to easily collect all sorts of integral data of Caliburn she could use to her advantage-

No, wait, what was Koehler doing? Flicking a channel switch, Lora heard the mumblings and outbursts of a raving man. What had happened to Roxy's pilot? Had he hit his head silly, or just smuggled in some illicit substances and suffering the consequences? Lora wasn't given the time contemplate that, as she was all too quickly assaulted by a barrage of lasers from behind, rocking the Frame and sending jolts up the control harness.

The voices returned, for but a moment. Incomprehensible as ever, but she thought she could recognize something...

Desperate to gain some control back into her hands, Lora growled out with a determined sneer and gunned Caliburn's thrusters. Blowing off several drones behind her, the knightly Framewerk struggled against the pool of goo at her feet. A haphazard slash from Visceral hacked apart the plating on her right arm, igniting another grunt of pain and reducing the arm's functions to basic movements, at best.

As Macabre tried to boost away, though, Caliburn attempted pursuit by boosting forward in a full-power shoulder charge. If she could at least run into Macabre to knock it off-balance, she could follow with a last-resort Lightstriker slash to try and take Ryan down with her.

And then Elora, behind her all this time, took the shot. Off the original mark ever so slightly, but not by enough to matter. One, and then several more cannon-grade bullets mashed into the broad side of Caliburn's back, pelting at the main thrusters. The glue finally degraded and gave way, and with a violent sputter, the normally controlled burners erupted in rocketing flames - an explosive force that threw Caliburn forward somewhat, but offered far less actual acceleration otherwise.

Battered and crumbling, but not done yet, Lora held the throttle open, committing to her previous plan. Any attempt to use the thrusters after this would prove disastrous, but that wasn't her concern. She would fight to her very last as she was meant to.