[System]
Age: 41

Gender: Male

Species: Human

World of Origin: Earth – 1940s England

Appearance:
Herbert is a slender man, with a gaunt face and high cheekbones. A dashing man in his youth, Herbert is now the antipode of his former self; his skin is pallid and tinted yellow, hanging loose on his face, making him seem many years older than he actually is, a consequence of many a sleepless night and the lengthy foregoing of sustenance. His nose is sharp, and sits above thin lips that crease at the corners of his mouth. One eye sits half-closed, blind, because of a chemical accident, but both rest in sunken sockets with dark bags hanging from them. A mop of hair, grey before its time, sits upon his head, the greasy locks scraping at his shoulder. He is always found in his musty jacket, unpolished shoes, trousers and yellowed shirt, with a red tie that he cut short. A smell somewhere between formaldehyde and turpentine permeates the air around him.

Abilities, Skills, Strengths, Personality, and Weaknesses:
Herbert has no experience in fighting, but he does have a quick mind and an extensive knowledge of the chemistry of his time. Since the death of his wife, he has become introverted, living in seclusion, meaning it would take while for him to adjust to the company of others.

History:
Herbert West was a brilliant mind, becoming the envy of many of his peers for his works in the medical field, producing a wide variety of antibiotics on the back of the work of Florey and Chain. At a young age he had accumulated a large wealth, and became an authority in his field and the publisher and editor of many journals and papers. However, arguably more enviable than his wealth was his wife; a flawless maiden from Holland, Elizabeth. They had met quite by chance at a gathering of important figures, full of smoke blowing and social engineering. The two became quite enamoured with each other, much to the confusion of many onlookers.

The couple wed not a year after, and moved from London to much more rural area, a few hours outside Leeds in the North.

Then one day she fell ill, and when it was clear she was not getting better, Herbert poured all his energy into finding something that would help, and he failed. There was no medicine that worked, not concoction brewed that brought colours back to her cheeks, no poultice that stopped her rasping breaths, and no tincture that quelled the flow of sweat.

The death was devastating to Herbert, and everyone was of the opinion it drove him mad, but Herbert knew differently, it had made him more focussed; death would not stop him, because he would bring her back. Perfectly preserving her body, he went about the business of perfecting a method to put the life back into that which was dead. Reanimation, he called it. He would keep an eye out for fresh burials in the local area, using the newly dead corpses as test subjects. The search for the cure for death consumed, and he locked himself away in his country house, hidden away from the light of day. He read books on chemicals and elements, on electricity and mechanisms, and even on dark magic, but none brought him any closer to a revelation.

When it all seemed hopeless and he hadn't slept for days, on the verge of admitting defeat, he was torn across the rift.

[User]
It wasn't just one thing that woke XIII up, it was several. The first thing to rouse him was the ground beneath him shaking violently. The second to bring him further out of his slumber was the sound of a roar. What really woke him up, though, was the sudden change of temperature.

XIII's eyes shot open.

He attempted to sit up, but he smashed his forehead against something solid. Stars formed in the semi-darkness as he laid back down. He was getting colder by the second and he had no clue where he was. For a moment, he feared that he hadn't actually been free from the holding facility and the past two years were a fabrication. He fought his panic down and tried to figure out where he was. A bright light was shining through a hole and into his eyes. He looked through it and saw snow.

That wasn't good.

The temperature was dropping fast, and XIII could feel himself weakening. Slowly, he felt around and discovered that he was encased in a pocket of fragmented stone except for the small hole. He tried pushing against the roof but it was too heavy for him. After a few moments of trying and failing to keep himself warm, he heard the sound of boots crunching against the snow. He looked through the hole and saw four silhouettes in the blinding white.

"Hey! Over here! I'm trapped in here. Get me out!" XIII shouted to the four figures he could see. He braced himself for the biting cold that would go right through his t-shirt and sweatpants.

He wasn't at the Benefactor's mansion. That's for damn sure.

[Assistant]
Charles listened patiently to Rozalind and was very grateful for her giving him her take on each of his new team mates. It was true that he had been given some files on each member of the team the information had been quiet lacking in a few places. So while he knew their blood type and most recent mission (once again only very basic information like duration and country) Charles had little to no idea of their personalities or how they all worked together. The new information that he was now filing away mentally helped to fill in those gaps and give him a better idea of how he would fit in.

Bit annoying that he hadn't been able to uncover anything more about this mission that MARCY was on. Even in the briefing room the only thing that Charles had been told had been that he was "To aid in dealing with a situation that would otherwise cause great distress to the general population, both local and internationally". Charles wondered what 'evil' organisation they would be dealing with.

Before he could get another word out the Aircraft shook and with just two words from Rozalind the team of TIGER were up with their hackles raised. Charles meanwhile stayed very still, knowing that if something were to happen he'd be best to stay out the way. The members of TIGER knew both each other and the aircraft much better than him and so it was much better for a rouge element such as himself not to get in their way and let them get on with it.

"What was that noise?" Charles asked aloud in case anyone had some idea. "Wasn't another aircraft was it?" He reasoned but deep down he knew that it hadn't sounded like a machine.

[User]
Vata followed a short distance behind Twain as they made their way to the castle. While he waited for Twain's men to find a way in, he noticed the steady warmth provided by whatever Xavier did start to wear off, and within a few seconds, he could feel the biting cold again. However, a moment later, he felt a feeble acknowledgement from the Spirit of Inspiration, and the warmth returned, albeit somewhat less intense than before. The feeling that he got before when he accepted Xavier's offer to warm him up really was him Shaping, although he had never heard of one person making another Shape. Before he could think much more about this, one of Twain's men returned with news of a way into the castle through a hole in the northern wall. He followed Twain into the castle, and as the group approached the main hall, he noticed a burning smell that was growing stronger as they got closer to it. Since Twain and his men seemed to know what they were doing, he didn't say anything about it.

When Twain walked into the main hall, he started speaking. "Lookie here, a nice roof, shelter and…"

"And what?"

Vata stepped forward to see what was in the main hall, and was shocked by the carnage he witnessed. There was blood and bodies disfigured by fire everywhere. He quickly averted his eyes from the horrific scene, and barely managed to keep what was left of his most recent meal in him. Trying to recover from the scene he just witnessed, he took a deep breath, and then started speaking to Twain.

"If what I just saw tells me anything, it is that this place is not safe, and that we should not stay here much longer."

[Assistant]
Dimitri nodded as Ryann expressed her intentions then his eyes slid to Dzel as she was gathering her armor and he smiled as she bolted past him down the tunnels behind William. If she was going to follow William, then he would go with the flow and follow also. After all the more the merrier was the monk's philosophy; at least when it came to drinking and eating anyway.

"Then i guess it is decided. Herbert, Ryann! I will follow after you both." he commented with a sweeping gesture towards the tunnels.

With one fluid motion, he tossed the rest of the peach schnapps down his gullet and tucked the empty bottle into his robes. It was his only weapon for now and one never knew when a solid glass bottle might come in handy.
Once Ryann and Herbert took off he proceeded down the tunnels behind them with a steady pace to ensure he did not lose sight of William or Dzel. From the rear he could also keep track of Ryann and Herbet to make sure they didn't fall too far behind the group.

The monk could tell by how she moved that Dzel was a capable warrior. She could look after William on her own if became necessary. So Dimitri figured it would be best for him to bring up the rear in case they wound up being chased by any unexpected visitors that might prove hostile.

[User]
Hearing a shout, John peered around the corpse strewn rubble. Finally, zooming in on a hole in a pile of rocks, he espied the heavily scarred face of a man. "By the- there's someone alive in there!" John rushed towards the man, the stranger's plight triggering his own anxieties. Pushing his face against the hole, he looked in at the hollow the man was in and worried about cave ins.

"Ok sir, I need you to not panic, alright? Get as close to the most intact piece of wall as possible, get down low, and put your hands over your head. We're going to get you out."

[Assistant]
Will ran, his mind becoming more clear as he did so. He slowed to a more reasonable pace- but still fast, his work for the KPAR required fitness among other things.

'We should probably seek therapy at some point. Not even as a joke, I mean that was like something you'd expect from a soldier with Blitzshock or something. Loud noises don't mean thermonuclear warfare, not always.'

He stopped for a second, giving Dzel time to pop into view before starting off again. He remembered that there was a fork in the tunnel, and visualised the route, rotated the image to make the decision. Learning his left and right would have also been an idea.

Reaching the fork, he waited for the soldier to arrive. "We go left to outside. We go right either it collapses and we die, or we find what we'd have found by taking the left and coming back once this is over. We go left."

They called out to turn left to the people following behind, and waited for them to come close enough to be seen, before heading down the rest of the way through the tunnel- and outside.

[User]
The sounds thrust Herbert back into coherence, sending him wide eyed with panic. It shook the very ground, starting as a trembling bass, as deep as the earth it shook, like gravel and rock grinding together, or the shifting of a mountain. The castle quivered around them, the wall rattling Herbert's skull. Chips of old rock flaked from the ceiling, and fine stone powder and dust puffed into the air.

Then the sound shifted, rising in pitch. It was like metal tearing, stabbing the ears, all sharp and jagged edges. It cut through the bricks of the walls as easily as it did the low conversation. And it was angry, terribly angry, intertwined with molten lead and fire.

Herbert jerked forward away from the wall. At first, he thought it was an avalanche, but it had stopped now, and was all too sudden and lacking of sufficient rumbling fortitude. So maybe part of the castle had collapsed, excited by the presence of the bag-owners, or at least others. This seemed reasonable, and yet there was part of Herbert's mind that felt that something had made this sound. Of all the plethora of cries he had heard, many of which he discovered were missing in the patchwork of is memory, nothing had ever sounded quite like this, but the fear was still there, buried deep in his gut, without logic or recuse.

Will did little to quash the vexing qualm, bolting off after spewing out a string of semi-comprehensible statements. He had a point though; there was all likelihood that the castle's structural integrity had been compromised, which meant they needed to get out. At least they had food and warm clothes now so that their death would not be quite as immediate as being crushed by several tonnes of stone and ice. Survival was important; he had to get back to Liza, and struggled to suppress the thoughts that that was be becoming less and less likely.

He coughed into his hand and stood, snatching up the bag from which a discordant chittering came sporadically, stuffed his wet clothes into it, and slung it over his back. Bizbee crawled out onto his shoulder, appearing restless by the flicking of its tail.

Herbert nodded in agreement with Ryann, as he found it hard to make words leave his mouth. He was a little dubious of letting Dmitri trail them, as he looked exhausted, but there was no time to argue.

As they ran, Herbert began to realise just how tried he was. Fire flared up in his lungs almost immediately and his muscles ached with the slow heat of dying embers. Hormones and strength-of-will must have kept him going thus far, but now that things became strenuous, he questioned how long he could continue.

Glimpses of red hair and armour were visible when the tunnels straightened. Herbert's pace slowed, and just after Will called out to turn left, he spluttered, resting a hand on the wall to steady himself as he staggered to a stop. He held up a hand to show Dmitri he was okay, but it was several seconds before he stopped whooping into his fist. Afterwards his eyes were streaming, and his pace was much slower, but iron-hard determination to live drove him onwards.

Once he reached the exit and broke into daylight, Herbert almost walked, and he had to shield his eyes until they adjusted. His feet crunched in the fickle snow that would have had no second thoughts of slipping him up. When he reached Will, he stopped, and tried to get his breath back, fighting the urge to collapse.


[System]
Age: 31
Appearance:
(Let's pretend his armor design is slightly more medieval and ignore the sword? Cool, thanks.)

Occupation: Knightsman

Personality: Passionate and charismatic to say the least, Fyair has a spark for life and booming voice to tell the world about it. Often wearing a smile, he appears to be a gentle giant, but only to lure in any potential victims. Once caught in his radar, he is a huggy, flirtatious kind of brute unphased by gender and always prepared to 'accidentally' cop a feel; never admitting to his own lecherous acts. The knight is an optimist and pacifist with sharp teeth; to mistake his kindness for weakness would be a grave mistake.

History: Generations of the Ducare name have served faithfully under a monarch--regardless of tyrants or peacemakers sitting upon the throne--and bred a strong line of fighters. There was no question that the pudgy round boy would grow up to follow the bloodline, but the young Fyair preferred to be a daydreamer rather than practicing swordplay day in and day out. However, like any good thoroughbred, his skill came naturally and puberty gifted him with an intimidating bulky body. After being knighted, he often found himself solving conflict using his massive size to manipulate peaceful resolutions or charming his way out of bad situations instead of lifting a sword... Unless under order.

[User]
Tyaelaem grinned a slow grin, motionless while Simon retrieved his glasses -- and then he placed his mask over his face again, hiding his glowing blue eyes from sight.

"The Lady of the Pond is the Spirit of the Waters -- just like the Sparrow King is the Spirit of the Forest. You met the Sparrow King, I think, yes? Glowy little person with horns?" Tyaelaem curled his fingers on his masked forehead like little horns and grinned. "The Lady of the Pond is his sister, you could say, really, Sirrah. Then there's the Spirits of the Wind, Rock, Shadow and Fire. We were chased by the Spirit of the Shadow for a little while, nasty trickster he is -- but you're a Soothsayer, he would like you I think. Maybe he was looking for you. You've been using his flowers and calling his ghosts -- the Fox is the mask of doors and shadows -- sure he's interested I think, I bet." He pointed with a thin finger at the mask on Simon's head and the flower in his hand.

At that moment, Rhea turned her glowing eyes toward Tyaelaem and Simon. She picked up a shard of rock and flung it -- speeding like an arrow -- straight at Tyaelaem's masked head.

Tyaelaem suddenly grabbed Simon, and in a blur of disorienting movement, suddenly both Tyaelaem and Simon were sitting high on the bough of a tree, harmlessly out of range of Rhea's attacks. The wood creaked and the thick green leaves rustled all around them. From this height, the star-encrusted sky was clear and deep above them.

Tyaelaem scampered like a cat along the tree branch, leaving Simon sitting near the trunk, and he leaned over to peer down at Rhea, Talan and Fyair.

With that last attack, Rhea's eyes returned to their normal dark hue, the power having been spent uselessly attacking the rabbit. She looked between Talan and Fyair -- and to the latter she cast a distrustful glare, though unwilling just yet to fight him for the Lanterns and for her fallen comrade's sword.

"In order to explain the Lanterns I have to tell you the old legend." Her voice was irritated and impatient; there was no time for a story, not while so many of the Lanterns were so close, and the Kith were already involved. "Centuries ago there was a powerful god or demigod or something that's just called the Dragon. All I know is it was in a prison somewhere. It had enough power to summon a ship from your world, full of airship pirates who were my ancestors. Those pirates had no idea what was going on, because they stupidly released the Dragon thinking it would help them get home again. Instead the world went permanently dark and the pirates were forced to fight for survival.

"After a couple hundred years of learning rune magic, a band of warlocks managed to defeat the Dragon and sealed it into the five Lanterns. The Lanterns were hung from mechanical trees that were meant to keep them asleep -- but something must've happened to the trees, because the Lanterns summoned you people, just like the Dragon summoned my ancestors. This is the Dragon trying to make another attempt at escape, by repeating history. I'm telling you that if the Lantern seals are broken and the Dragon escapes again, there'll be no surviving it. That princess is delusional; there is no way back."

"LIES!" Tyaelaem hollered from the tree above. "The Dragon was always the benevolent god, everything was warm and bright under its rule, until the PIRATES arrived and decided to take our home for themselves. The Dragon tried to send the evil Pirates back to where they came from, so the greedy Pirates locked away the Dragon in the Lanterns, and trapping the Dragon CAUSED the forever-dark! The Pirates killed our people, destroyed our forests, and trapped and tortured the spirits and fairies for their power -- but the Pirates were too stupid and weak to use the Lanterns' power like they wanted, so they hid the Lanterns away and made up STORIES about evil gods."

"You Kith are people just like us!" Rhea called toward the dark treetops where Tyaelaem's voice echoed. "You're Pirates who've been tempted and brainwashed by those masks! You won't admit it!"

"We are the children of the forest." Tyaelaem's voice had turned to a violent hiss that whispered throughout the woods. His blue eyes glowed through the holes in his mask. "We were here first, and we will be here long after the Pirates are gone. We will restore the Dragon to his rightful place, the Dragon will send you pillagers back to where you came from, the light will be restored and we will take back what is ours." Tyaelaem's words conflicted with his ongoing desire to see Anise's kingdom, to visit faraway places and distant kingdoms -- but he still believed in the Dragon and in the rights of his people, especially in the face of a dirty Pirate. "The Pirates tell you you're stuck here forever. I'm telling you the Dragon will send you home. The Lanterns have done nothing but protect you, because that is the nature of the Dragon." He addressed Talan and Fyair, and he looked over his shoulder at Simon. Surely, they would see the truth.

Meanwhile, Anise would be able to hear the shouting match between Rhea and Tyaelaem -- Tyaelaem's voice, especially, echoed in the shadows of the forest all around her.

Those shadows were moving. Something shifted between the trees and in the branches, and Anise would have the distinct feeling of being watched, but without the nightstick to guide her all she would see is darkness -- and the glimmer of the blue Lantern shining on the ground ahead.

There was a corpse lying beside the lantern: it was Arin, the boy she had chased into the woods not so long ago. His eyes were wide, gray and vacant in death, and his cold hand still clutched the lantern. There was no mark on Arin's body, and no discernible reason he had died suddenly.

The tree that stood just next to Arin's corpse was white and dead, and covered in runes just like the one that the Lantern had first hung from -- only this one made no sound, and the gears and springs inside had rusted long ago.

Fireflies flashed overhead. In the light of the fireflies and the glow of the lantern, Anise might see ancient mossy statues standing broken among thick weeds and vines; the statues were of small, thin people -- most of them chipped or missing limbs -- and each statue wore a white wooden mask.

A pair of big yellow eyes stared down at Anise. The beast's hot breath smelled familiarly like rotten flesh.

The huge black wolf had found her again; it stood close to the glow of the blue lantern, its yellow teeth flashing.

[Assistant]
Anise had managed to get away. She knew she wasn't safe, but immediate death wasn't something on the table now. She knew she was being watched by something in the darkness. She stumbled through the bushes and followed the light of the lantern. She stopped briefly when she saw the body that still held the lantern. How he died she had no idea, but she recognized the person that laid there. She had run away from the wolf with him until she decided to return and help Randold.

She glanced over the surrounding area and noticed the statues wearing the white masks in the light of the fireflies and lantern. Tyaelaem and Talan wore a mask, but these seemed different than theirs. The tree made no noise, but it seemed similar to the one she was summoned to. She stepped towards the lantern, but stopped as soon as she saw those familiar yellow eyes. She saw the huge wolf near the lantern, but not quite in its light.

Anise bared her own teeth with a grin. There was no place for fear in her heart in this situation. "I remember you. The first time I saw you I ran in fear." She took a familiar tone with the animal. "Are you hungry? Do you want food? Is that why you're following me?" She glowered at the wolf with a feral expression and crossed her arms. "Well, I won't let you have me. I'm going to take that lantern and I'm going to break the egg free. I know a nasty witch you could eat." She paced toward a statue. "Although I don't think she'd taste good." Then an image of a spear landing between her and Rhea flashed in her mind and she thought of Talan. "Or maybe you'd like a Talan treat?" She then giggled at the thought of the wolf eating Talan.

She walked up to Arin's body while keeping her eyes on the wolf. "I think I'll call you Reus, you look like a Reus." She pried the fingers of Arin to free the lantern from his grip. She wouldn't let the wolf eat her, no way.

[User]
Simon felt like his head was going to explode! It could have been from a number of things, whether it be from the overload of information that had been gained from Tyaelaem and Rhea about the lanterns; the disturbing feeling that had been delivered by the rabbit taking him up tree; and last but not least that Simon was truly afraid of heights.

A lot of things that Tyaelaem said made a little bit of sense, he had felt an eerie small connection to 'The Sparrow King' as he referred to him. Simon remembers seeing something with horns when he ate the flame back when they got attacked by the monkeybats. Simon feared that Tyaelaem had been telling the truth about this but he didn't really see how the land could be watched over by a giant dragon. He also didn't feel like he would be much safer in this already unfriendly place with a dragon on the loose, however he didn't really feel safe as long as Rhea was around.

Simon was bear hugging the trunk as hard as physically possible to avoid falling out of the tree, since he was having a tough enough time surviving here to begin with. Quickly before his arms could get tired Simon took his left hand and swiftly placed the fox mask from on top his head to over his eyes since he felt like it would give him a little bit more courage while he tried to avoid tumbling out the tree.

Simon was thinking of how he would be able to stop Anise from breaking anymore of these eggs without ... Well without having to kill her.

[Assistant] Talan wasn't sure what to think, both sides of the story seemed to make sense but he it was the potential consequences that kept him from deciding. Either choice had the potential to destroy the world and to have such a burden be put on him made Talan go silent. In his mind he thought out the possibilities, if he were to side with Rhea he would have to contend with the Kith and the other horrors of the forest. The Kith, Tyaelaem, could be the one telling the truth but he wasn't sure if he could be trusted as the creature was so quick to turn on him before. There was the matter of the dragon, if it was released would it really be a benevolent entity? Back with the ckan the elders spoke tales of dragons but they were never kind. Instead they were cruel, dangerous beasts that were all slain by great warriors long ago. Could this really be a monster from a forgotten age? If that was the case then he'd prefer it remain imprisoned. But that still left Talan with the problem of the eternal night. The sun must return or all will die, but if the Kith claim it is due to the dragon's imprisonment then how would light return to the world. Seeing no other option present Talan stood up to speak, "You've gotten me this far, I trust you know what you're doing". Talan would side with the pirate and help her ensure the eggs stay in captivity. He'd have to hope Rhea would be able to fix the darkness over the world later. As for the man that stood before them with the lantern on his belt, "That lantern you carry, you alone are incapable of protecting it. I've seen what this place can do an nd you alone won't last long. You can stay with us, help us make sure the dragon sleeps. Or you can stand aside alone in the darkness".

[User]
This forest was a madhouse. Day was night, up was down. All things true and all things false.

Fyair heaved a sigh when the young princess dashed from his side and remained steadfast, it was beyond him to play hide and seek. He rubbed the line of his brow back and forth for a moment. Of course he would choose a lunatic to service faithfully. Making a mental note to track the little miss down later, he focused his attention on the crowd of bizzarro strangers. His lips turned up in a high frown as he listened, simply listened. The warrior had no answers, only more questions. The pirate woman respun old tales of too many generations back. And the masked boy just didn't sit right with him--it was possible the eerie voice throwing trick had played a big part of that decision. Although, NO ONE had real answers. If one person said something, another said something that completely contradicted whatever truth either party believed. The knight peered down between his two lanterns. Did any of the forest dwellers know more than accident stories and rumors? His dark eyes caught the light of the third blue lantern over his shoulder. Dragons were fairytales and magic was mere sleight of hand in his mind, the world were he knew his life lacked any form of the truly supernatural. What did he have to weigh the dangers against? For him, there were only more questions and room full of jesters spouting this and that.

The mountainous man looked up though his stare seemed distant and dull. "Two out of three," he called back to the tribesman then grinned at the tattooed lady, "Those are good odds, yeah? For whoever is right and whoever is wrong." Fyair then lifted the green lantern high above his head and without hesitation threw the thing to the ground with all his impressive might. The only immediate regret being that he hoped the glass would shatter on the first try, so he wouldn't be left standing like an idiot having wasted a moment to show off.


[System]
Gender: Female
Age: 22
Appearance:

Her muscles are more tone, and looks more cheerful. She is 170 cm and binds her chest.

Rank: PFC
Class: Shocktrooper
Weapons and Equipment:
* T-MAG 1
* B-Type M1
* Ragnaid
* Shocktroop armor
* Revolver

Personality:
Cecilia is a tomboy. Rough and tough. Sticks to the guys and doesn't mind a good old brawl. Pretty simple actually. Courageous, and outgoing, not easily hated, and a strong sense of justice. She isn't interested in girly-girl stuff like make-up and dresses, but she doesn't mind hanging out with some of her friends as they do that stuff. She gets along well with everyone, but her sense of justice can be overbearing. Or is it just her sense for violence?

Bio:
Growing up, Cecilia was a daddy's girl. Always looking up to her father. He was a martial artist and part of the local police. With a strong sense of justice, he taught her little girl martial arts and how to fight. Inheriting that sense of justice, Cecilia would fight off all bullies.

The boys and the girls got along with her though. She may have been strong, but she was outgoing and did all sorts of fun, crazy and dangerous things. But whenever it was time for her to 'defend' for someone, they backed away, keeping some distance. She doesn't really realize it herself too much, but she loves to fight and violence. She won't act on it until it can be used for 'justice', though.

Her family was fairly average, and her town was fairly peaceful. As she got older, she became stronger and more independent. Eventually it was her time to enroll for military training. With the training drills and hand-to-hand combat, she was fully in her element. She would charge in, gun on full auto, spraying the fake enemy lines. In cases of hand-to-hand beating people senseless. Yet, there was no sense of justice. She was excited, but felt it was lacking something. So, finishing off her training, she went back home, and followed her father's footsteps.

Eventually though, the war had reached Gallia, and with her sense of justice, she volunteered to fight for her country and get in on some of the action. Her father gave her his prized revolver and her mother gave her some ragnaid both of them to protect her and wish for her safety.

Personal Potentials:
* Ammo Refill - Always could use with more shots
* Big Sister - I'll protect those close to me
* Bloodthirsty - There's killing to do!
* Challenge Lover - Justice will prevail!

RP Sample:
As a child
"Hey, what do you think you guys are doing over there? Picking on a little girl! Cecilia called out to the boys picking on a girl not much younger than her.
"What do you want huh!?" They replied.
"You guys are nothing but bullies! You deserve to be punished."
"Punished? HA! By who?"

Cecilia calmly walked up to the boys.
"Oh look at this, defending her are you? Get her!"
With that she smiled. Her face smiling a devilish grin, as she dodged the first punch by ducking low, and punching the boy below the belt. He writhed in pain, as the others started to charge in. She went to beat on the boy writhing in pain, before using him to shield a blow from the others. Continuing to smile, she threw the boy into the others and started to beat them all senseless.

As the boys writhed in pain, she dusted herself off. "Now then, no more picking on anyone, got it?" she smiled, an innocent smile.

Now
"Hey guys, how you doing?" she called out to the familiar looking men. "Hey Cecilia."
"You guys have changed recently."
"Ha ha ... yeah ... After going through that so many times ..."
"Going through what? Justice?"
"Uh ... Yeah .... Anyway ... we got work so laters."
"Well keep up the good work."
Looks like they finally know about the power of justice. Cecilia smiled to herself walking away.

[User]
Celeste
The ride was the same as any other ride in the APC. Boring, monotonous, and really low on the social interactions meter. Though for some, the shear emptiness of social interaction during the ride was probably a blast. Though Skye's occasional foot taps and slightly disgruntled look puzzled Celeste. Maybe she was bored, and was quite the action girl. No idea. Though a Darcsen wanting trouble was very odd, but then again, so was a Darcsen Sergeant.

However, the ride went on. Leaving Celeste with her own thoughts for some time before the Sergeant noticed something on the Horizon. The field promoted Mr. Hunt said something about it possibly being an abandoned tank. Though his actions said he wasn't confident in his own explanation. She didn't say, or do, anything about it and turned her attention back the Sergeant, aiming to keep it there till they found out what it was.

But everyone seemed to be preparing for the worst. She really couldn't blame them, no one had expected that tank. So chances were that tanks had left a very bad impression in the mind's of everyone. Celeste chose to sit by in a more calm demeanor, waiting for the all clear or a frantic dismount order.

[Assistant]
Private Durandal
The young woman had been taking the opportunity to collect herself. Memories beyond a certain point became a jumble, and then a haze. She could try to remember, but nothing made sense unless she took the time to put them in order. It was a tiring exercise, a strange kind of fatigue that leaves you drained, but not physically tried. She wanted to move through her stances and forms, but there was no space. They were moving somewhere, though she wasn't sure where. She wished she had a map to study. How far was she from home?

No, she shouldn't get distracted. She'd probably remember if she put it all together. Or... if she read through more of this journal?

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

Somehow, the more she read of the journal, she more she was filled with a profound sadness. She had a sense that she knew how the story ended. Really, the dogtags that came with the journal were story enough. She couldn't read much of the journal at once, but the man had become aware of a new addition to his squad, a lancer for their next mission. It was at this point in her reading that the APC stopped. She closed the book and tucked it away swiftly, looking up at the Sergeant. A tank...? She reached for her mortar, prepared to make a sprint.

[User]
Private First Class Cecilia Rousseau

Being told to be at ease, and the reason why, Cecilia simply shrugged it off. Introducing herself was Alex Glaive, Cecilia replied, "Nice to meet you! Hope to get along!. It was time to get back into the APC and for the squad to continue moving.

---

In the rather silent travel, Cecilia was feeling bored. Didn't have any of her gear to check over or to waste time with. Looking over to Alex, who said she would look after her, she asked, trying to stave off some boredom. "So, uh.. Alex? It's alright to call you Alex yeah? How has your experience with this squad been?"

However, by the time she had gotten an answer, the APC stopped, being alerted about a tank. She was familiar with a situation like this, having been squad hopping. Being ambushed by a captured tank is no fun. Grabbing the SMG she was borrowing, she prepared for a firefight, if one were to break loose. It seemed a few of the others were also quite cautious, something probably happened with this squad involving tanks, from what she could gather. The squad seemed a bit edgier to the situation than others.

[Assistant]
Alex Glaive

Alex had her eyes closed as she rested back against the shaking APC as she relaxed her tired body, a side effect of trying to stay awake as long as she could the night before in order to watch over the team. However even she could not properly sleep in the roaring tin can so when Cecilia started talking with her she responded without even opening her eyes. "I don't mind you calling me Alex. As for this squad?" She paused for a moment, thinking on the question as she recounted her experiences, all their actions over the course of their adventure so far before sh finally answered honestly.

"They are good people... However most are not suited to war."

Suddenly the APC came to a halt and Alex opened her eyes, staring at the ceiling of the machine as she listened to everyone talking and right away she suspected what was going on. "Just move on and avoid it." Finally sitting upright and rubbing her eyes she spoke to the people trying to figure out just what the heck was going on. "Its a trap. A imperial tactic of using a fake or, as you said, a wreck that they use to draw people like you in, thinking that someone may still be alive behind enemy lines or they were just lucky enough to find a TANK abandoned and oddly left by the imperials for them... In short avoid it." She knew she gave a little too much away, her knowledge of imperial tactics that a normal militia shouldn't have but the last thing she wanted to have happen was dying because of this.

[User]
Celeste
The squad talked some more. But it was Glaive's suggestion that made Celeste a little edgy. She thought about it's possibility. Then came up with something. It was a selfless move of her to suggest such an action, but there was only one way to find out right? She stayed low as the mentioned her plan to Harald. "Hay, Harald. What if I went up and checked it out? I can stay in sight the whole time. If it's a trap, you guys just floor it in the other direction." She waited for his answer. "And don't worry about me. I'm sure you'd get a more worth while Corporal soon enough if I die." She put on a smile to hide her own feelings on the situation.

Though deep down, she was terrified of how high the chances were of her dying.

Skye
The talk of this tank and how it could be a trap was rather annoying. She'd rather be doing something. And so she did just that. Skye looked at Cecilla and spoke towards her. Aiming for a conversations while the others bickered on about the tank. "So. I don't quite know or remembered everyone's names yet. Would you mind telling me yours?" She paused for a few seconds before realizing she hadn't spoken hers. "Oh, and before you ask, my name is Skye." Skye spoke with a smile.

[Assistant]
Sergeant Harald, Gallian Militia

'We are...' Despite the potentially dangerous situation, Harald tried to think positively for once. 'We are, but there are other Militia elements in the area. Besides, the Army's been probing Vasel for days. Might be a stray squad ahead of the others..? Maybe?' The chances weren't high though, he knew too well. Chances were that it was a derelict, or worse an Imp trap, a sentiment echoed by Glaive. The Sergeant turned to her, gave her an appraising eye. 'Could be, but do we really have the luxury of going around? We're on a tight schedule here y'know.' He paused for a long moment in indecision... until Stichler proposed a plan. 'Sure, Corporal? No offence, but you ain't exactly the most mobile one here. If things do go south, you might get caught flat-footed.' He didn't like her self-derisive tone either; NCOs needed to act confident for the sake of their subordinates. 'Alright, let's try this. Stichler, drop your lance and armour. You and Hunt scout ahead, take wide spacing. Once you get an idea of who's who, cell it in on the radio.'

[User]
Lance Corporal James Hunt| Road to Vasel
@Slypheed

Of all the jobs he'd had as a scout, it wasn't the most fantastic, but it was right up a scout's alleyway. Standing, he hefts his rifle up and steps down out of the APC. "Can do, Sarge. Ready when you are, Corporal."

[Assistant]
Private First Class Cecilia Rousseau

"I see..." Cecilia replied to Alex. It seemed to Cecilia that there wasn't much of a sense of camaraderie in the squad. Nonetheless, everyone was clearly anxious over the tank. Everyone cautious and throwing a number of suggestions. Cecilia was tempted to peak out of the APC to get a view. Suddenly one of the others called out to her. It was a Darcsen who, although they were both sitting, quite tall. Cecilia was generally considered tall, but this person was even taller.

She was asking for Cecilia's name, facing her, she answered, "Name's Cecilia Rousseau, nice to meet you ... um..." not having caught her name, she was about to ask for her, before Skye answered, "Oh, and before you ask, my name is Skye.". "Nice to meet you, Skye." she replied.

"Also recently recruited?" she asked making small talk, before going back to wanting to peak outside. "Well, sending people to check the situation is good and all, but has there been any movement from the tank side? Maybe they will send someone to meet with us, do we really need to risk it by showing ourselves?" Cecilia suggested still holding the SMG, ready for what could happen.


[System]
Gender: Female

Age: 18

Species: Gigan

Birthday: May 22

Blood Type: B+

Height: 10"5'

Weight: 284 ibs.

Measurements: 32D-23-36

Like: Mornings, Gale, sleeping, eating, sleeping again, her gun, seeing Gale smile, long walks through Meridian, botany, gardening, flowers, big windows that she can climb out of easily, and small things.

Dislikes: The Renoirs, Egrits, moonless nights, mean small people, mean tall people, hot days (which are all too common in the Meridian), and Gale injuring herself.

Parasite: Rorschach - a parasite that replaces an unknown part of Ash's body, only Gale has seen it activate and live.

Appearance: Ash is a ten foot tall Gigan, with a pair of stubby yellow horns and peach colored skin, her eyes are an expressive yellow, topped off by badly kept white hair. Ash usually wears a striped jacket, and a white undershirt that barely fits her elongated arms, along with her jacket, she also has a bright red bow tie around the collar of her jacket, fur mantle included, which matches the hair on top of her head. She also carries a Gigantian machete as a secondary weapon, alternatively to her .30 caliber Canopian anti-tank rifle; which can often be found slung over a shoulder, with Gale attached to its long barrel.

Biography: Ash's origins lie in the cold wastes of Giga, where she was born to a family of Gigan, whose names even she can't remember. They dissipated from Ash's life when she was nine, and she found her way to little Innsmouth through a lowly Elven caravan. After she had strayed from the Elves that had been with her for so long, she found her way to a small family of bat Ferals who, despite her size, took her in. Their giving attitude had touched her so deeply, that she had decidedly stayed with them. Everything went well for a few months, Ash managed to live a relatively normal life tending to flowers, and getting a proper education--until Gale's parents died. Gale's mental state immediately declined, and as it did Ash was the only thing left to keep it from falling into madness. The next seven years were hell not only for Gale, but for Ash as she was treated to all of Gale's hatred and sadness, but Ash soldiered through it. In those seven years Ash and Gale grew significantly closer as Ash slowly became a pillar for Gale, but despite the pair becoming so close, Gale still doesn't know much about Ash; save for what she's been around to witness.
In fact, nobody knows much about Ash.
After Gale decidedly joined the Medicis, Ash decided to buy a new home in Little Innsmouth where she and Gale can rest in relative peace in between hits. Now a days the pair just hang out, so to speak, lounging in their shared home, and on occasion tending to the flowers covering the interior of their house. When the pair are not scattered through out their home in Little Innsmouth, or breaking backs for their employers, Gale rests on Ash during the night; almost like a Gigan mattress.

Blockbusters:

Maul (Level 1): Ash unsheaths her machete, and hyper extends her arm, using it to whip lash her opponent several times--blade included.

Bullet Hell (Level 2): Ash loads a special 'slug' round into her rifle, which fires numerous smaller caliber bullets in a flurry of lead, which all impacts her opponent; effectively juggling them in the air to open them up to a counter attack.

Bloom (Level 3): Ash activates Rorschach.

[User]
Upset that some random stranger had dared to break the normal order and intrude upon his doings, Grumm whirled around. The clockwork arm flashed by, easily forty pounds of solid metal thrown in a vigorous slap that could have dislocated Morgann's jaw had it connected. Fortunately, the savage blow fell short, and when he saw that it had, Grumm spewed forth a spray of bile that created a miniature miasma between the monster and the magician. While he didn't speak, punctuating his attack with an angry sputtering noise instead, the message was clear: back off.

Grumm then turned away, with no reason to believe that a simple civilian would persist in the suicidal act of provoking an undead armed with a Living Weapon. A flick of the mechanical tentacle whose maw was holding Halte aloft flung the former pirate in the ghoul's direction. With practiced efficiency not completely offset by the sorry state of his body, Grumm brought his axe up in a cruel diagonal arc meant to cleave the incoming Halte in two. At the last moment, however, Halte brought her boots around so that they were facing Grumm, and from their soles twin blasts of water gushed forth. They splashed against Grumm's face, disorienting the creature and slowing down Halte's fall enough to avoid the headsman's weapon completely. Immediately after, Halte landed with both feet planting on Grumm's face, causing him to grumble in protest. Before he could grab her, however, Halte kicked off, flipping through the air to land twenty feet away in a spray of mist.

The next second, Grumm leaped into the air, hissing like a sick cat. More noxious bile spewed from his face as he sailed toward his target. Halte steadied herself before raising a leg and slamming her boot into the ground, causing a jet of water to erupt from the marble beneath Grumm as he landed a yard away from her. Beneath her mouthpiece, Halte smiled grimly, only to cry out in pain as her foe dealt her a crushing hydraulic punch. She staggered away and collapsed to the ground, holding her stomach as if her guts had been liquified, her vehement curses lost in a wave of furious static from her mouthpiece. Though sopping wet and even more flustered than normal, Grumm had executed his Rot Wrecker without more than a split-second's delay. Only a few seconds had passed, but it already seemed that the duel had been decided.

[Assistant]
Pharona smiled brightly as Brandy took the coat, even though Angus could see the hesitation when he took it, the large man always wanted to help people even if they did not really want it. Angus kept his gaze upon the downed Egret solider, feeling like these people did not really have to put so much pain upon the Egret and so much ridicule. However, Pharona on the other hand was having quite the time of her little life as she had managed to meet up with several parasites, but one of them had even offered for the two to come with them on their adventure! This made her feel all warm inside and quickly asked permission for Angus to see if they could actually go with the two. "Angus! Brandy just asked us to come with them! Can we please go with them! I want to just continue this amazing day!"

"Well, even if I said no. I bet you would ignore me anyone and follow them," mumbled Angus within his own head which only hurt Pharona as she did actually respect and care for him... Most of the time.

"Hey, I think your opinion still matters, and if you don't want to go, we don't have to. I think I have had enough exposure to Brandy to have this day as pretty successful." Angus smiled slightly at the thought of leaving these strange people and going back to their daily lives, but he could not abandon this victim to these parasites and he must follow them to see if they don't merciless murder him or something similar in that manner.

"No, we can go with these people. I just need to keep a watchful eye upon the solider, and I hope that you will understand if they try to further hurt this man. I will have to intervene." Pharona thought about the proposition and nodded to it, she knew that these people were good and wouldn't murder someone. Even if they have different beliefs than them. The little parasite girl used the massive arm to tap the shoulder of the the curled up Gale and started to say something, "I think we would be delighted to join you and the merry entourage of strangers! Also, if you were wondering, my name is Pharona!"

[User]
She simply smiled as Morgann left the building. It's all going well. With luck she could just infiltrate the circus or whatever and make off with whatever she had. Old school burglary on some circus hicks none of the authorities would really care about.

"Miss, your food has arrived." A waiter covered with bandages came and placed several platters of food on her table.

"THANK YOU KIND MEAT MAN!"

Juno froze at Marionette's voice, wondering if the waiter would freak out and sic the cuffers on her. To her surprise, he just nodded and gave a strained smile before leaving. Guess after what happened with the magician, he simply decided to stay low and do whatever it takes to not meet another piranha.

Shrugging, she started on her meal, shoveling food into her mouth as fast as she could. Tomorrow would be a great day.

[Assistant]
Morgann

"Gross," Morgann grimaced, hesitant to even breathe after the spray of bile had dissipated. What if it smelled bad? Would it even matter? She was around elephants and Goddess knows what at the circus, so perhaps she shouldn't be such a girl about the possibility of an undesirable scent. After a few moments, she inhaled slowly before letting the cool breath escape her lips once more, relieved that the bile left no scent. She pulled her wand out of her coat, readying herself for the chance that the creature might attack.

Realizing she wasn't going to get an answer nor was the tall figure going to pursue her, Morgann watched helplessly as the woman was attacked before shoving her wand back into her suit, dashing over, and holding her arms out, staring directly up at the attacker. "I'm not going to move until I receive some sort of explanation," she explained slowly through her clenched pearly whites, "as to why you are attacking this woman." She swung one of her gloved hands around to hold up over her face, partially to get his attention and partially to not stare at his face. "As far as you know, I am an innocent bystander who merely works at the circus," she went on, narrowing her eyes through the mask's white film, "so I could damn well put you out of business if you laid a hand on me. You think I'm bluffing, you can take it up with my boss after you crush my face or completely dislocate my jawbone."

Gale

Gale listened from her tall roommate's shoulder to the conversation that the parasite was having with her host. From what she remembers, Brandy had told her at some point that the parasite was named Pharona and the host Angus, but she wasn't quite sure. During the period that Brandy maintained control, memories and conversations seemed to blur together to her, and she didn't particularly care to recall, to be honest. Her parasite had truly heard and experienced plenty that she was not eager to remember, and she was just fine with that. After hearing the parasite confirm her thoughts, she nodded sleepily and flicked her ears before closing her eyes again. "Pharona's voice is so chipper though," she thought sadly, "I actually like hearing it. Too bad I can't see what she or anyone else look like."

"Oh wait," she murmured, sitting up and reaching into one of her boots to grab her bandana. As she delicately wrapped it around her head, she began to address Angus's worries. "We will not harm the two soldiers," she spoke in a somber tone, proceeding to pull a couple of black rubber bands out of her shoe and pulling her spiky, unruly locks into two pigtails. "The mafia does not care for such petty crimes that we have committed, such as the one here today," she explained, moving closer so that she could curl up in the crook of Ash's neck, "they only care for the critical hits that we are ordered to take out. Believe me when I say that Ash has already intervened, so I do not think you will have to do so." Gale tucked her knees up against her chest and curled up in the gigantic jacket that Angus had given her, enjoying the warmth and protection from the wind that it provided. Goddess, it was getting chilly. "If you're so cold all the time, why don't you wear an actual coat instead of this stupid down vest?!" Brandy roared from within the depths of her mind, and though she winced, she did not say anything about how loud his static voice was. "Brandy," she began silently, her thin eyebrows furrowing together, "shut your mouth."

Brandy remained silent for a few moments before responding, "Gale, your mouth is my mouth, remember?" Groaning quietly, she clawed at the sides of her head before deciding it wasn't worth arguing over.

[User]
"Alright, we're heading out!"
Ash walks forward, step by long step she navigates the twists and turns of Little Innsmouth, passing by sunken boulevards and overly complex compounds of shacks stacked in uneven piles amongst one another. Ferals and Dagonians pass in droves, making the trip a lengthly venture to the train station to Meridian. On the way Ash has to stop several times, so that she can spot a gap in the crowd to set her foot, or for the crowd to just part to make a path for her. "Is Brandy okay there?" Ash asks Gale as they approach the train station "You guys sound like you're having an argument" Ash adds with a worried smile.
Once the small group is there, it's just a matter of waiting in the deeply congested line to the one ticket booth, surrounded by impatient citizens of Little Innsmouth. "Please be patient." the lone Dagonian pleads, handing out tickets as soon as he's handed loose coins, or change, but the people receiving them are blocked by a pair of large men donning all too familiar gas masks. What would be causing such a horrid back up?

Elsewhere

On the fifth train car (out of twenty) sits a tank, two to be exact, both of which are tied down to their respective car, the pair of armored behemoths appear to be factory new, with barely a thin coat of olive paint to cover the red steel underneath. On top of the car in front of the vehicular dreadnoughts sits a lone, bored Egret smoking a cigarette, letting his gray helmet rest beside him. "By the goddess, where are our Parasitic scum?" he asks himself impatiently, putting out the cigarette on his armored thigh. "Captain, we're holding up service here..." one of his eight guards say nervously, watching the pair of soldiers the Honorable Captain had dispatched at the entrance to the station not ten minutes ago struggle against the mounting crowd. The Captain shrugs, his vaguely blue eyes scanning the crowd outside "Let them in, I think there will be at least one rat for us in there. Hopefully that anonymous tip holds true."


[System]
Age: 23
Nationality: French

Appearance: While sporting a light brown scruff beard, Cole stands at 5'11 with a light brown buzz cut, pale blue eyes which seem to pierce the soul of whatever he looks at, lean and toned physique, and a tattoo of a crow rests on his left arm to represent his pride in his work, and to remember all those he has killed.

Biography: Cole was born in Louisiana and raised just outside of New Orleans. His father died a few months after he was born while serving in the military on a classified operation so he never knew what happened to him. However Cole still felt pride when his father came up in conversation and wanted to follow in his father's footsteps. He never imagined how he'd do that, but when his mother took him to France while she was a diplomat over there when he was 17 his friend's dad somewhat took Cole under his wing and taught him a few tricks from his own military days. After further discussion and loving the new place he lived in Cole joined the French Foreign Legion. With that came a new identity and the last name Duponte.

With several successful missions under his belt and clearly becoming a up and coming star in the spec ops world Cole was offered a job with XCOM to which he gladly excepted. He is part of the European branch and proudly serves his country and planet by whatever means are at his disposal.

Base of Operations: Europe
Squad: Grim Crows
Class: Ranger
Rank: Squaddie

Personality: While trying to be a honorable man, Cole struggles to stay honorable when it comes to dealing with the aliens. Unlike with other countries fighting, this is a whole different matter that seems so much more important. So when it comes to the aliens honor goes out the window. While in Cole's eyes honor has to do with two wits having it out, when it comes to the aliens he just views them as close to animals, or maybe even rodents. Pests that should be exterminated and kept off the world. If they were friendly and trying to make an alliance that would be one thing, but from what he understands all the aliens want is to take the world for themselves.

In his personal life he loves to have fun, make crude jokes, drink, and train. While he wants to get married at some point, he knows that his work comes first because without doing what he does there is no future for a family he builds. It is that dream of his baby girl or boy playing in the back yard while he's sitting in a chair with a smile on his face that keeps Cole going each day in this struggle.

Other: Has a tendency to be a little overly violent or excessive with things.

Strengths: Cole is excellent with the combat knife and his quick reactions to thigns that happens around him. Once he was given a sword he was able to become efficient with that as well along with close quarters combat.

Weaknesses: Cole's biggest weakness is how much he values his friends. It is the constant struggle for him seeing his closest friends die. He gets a huge adrenaline rush when it happens and he was trained to take advantage of that, but after that initial rush or the battle is over Cole struggles heavily with getting over the loss.

Psionic-Potential: Yes
Mech Soldier Candidate No

[User]
Nian Zhen, Medic of the Red Dragons

Nian Zhen solemnly listened to Lt. Kyo Jin-Hwan, still standing at attention.

"Sir, no questions here, sir!" She said, her chipper, slightly accented, but overflowing with earnest voice called out once again. Once he finished, she relaxed only slightly, glancing around the barracks and spotting her bed. She nodded to herself, satisfied.

With no further questions, she turned to examine her bed, poking it, making sure the sheets were nice a folded, fluffing out the pillow. Reyes appeared, slightly startling her.

"So you're our medic then?" He pointed to the red cross clearly visible on her uniform. His voice, she inferred, could be very intimidating if he wanted too- it kinda was even if he wasn't trying to be.

"Yes, I am!" She affirmed him proudly, nodding rapidly and smiling. The insignia of the red plus sewn into her uniform above her left breast was an honor, the fact that next to it was the motto and XCOM coat of arms was a source of immense pride for the young soldier.

"I got to say it is a relief knowing there will be someone down there to patch us up," Reyes continued, smiling. "Though no offense, I hope we don't need it."

Nian Zhen was once again solemn, ignoring his chuckle and nodding seriously, her face straightening out. "Yes, Reyes, I hope you don't need it either." She said, her eyes somewhat glazing over as she remembered previous experience as a combat medic. She blinked and looked at him in the eyes and her expression grew lighter again.

"But, if you do get hurt, you should not worry. I think I am very good, " She continued.

"What do you do, Reyes? You look big and strong- heavy weapons, maybe?" Her small, bright eyes scanned his chest and shoulders for an insignia or mention of rank.

[Assistant]
---

XCOM HQ
2020

---

Just as sharp as any Inagawa Group meeting, Mochizuki Hiroya panned around the room, analyzing each one of his supposed comrades. They seemed as hardened and determined, yet light-hearted, as he would have expected from any elite soldier fighting an alien force. For just a moment, Hiroya took a gander at their motives; although it was all too obvious, he thought of the why. Did Zhu Yun, Ratana Chao, Omar Mahanti, Ichihara Maiya (finally, a compatriot, albeit with a slight Kansai accent), Esmaeel Sayyad, have someone special? A Kuroda Miy-
No.
That would have to stay locked in the back of his mind, forever.
Not since..

Hiroya took note of their names in his head, hoping he would never have to curse them. Finally, it was his turn. Giving a nod of acknowledgement, he took a blunt approach:

Mochizuki Hiroya, at your service.

With a customary bow of the head, he motioned back, ending the formalities. Now it was time to check out the really important stuff- his role, and his gun.

[User]
It had been a long flight to Tokyo, but after flying through pitch darkness for the past several hours, the plane that Kira Lawson had boarded finally landed on solid ground. As she disembarked, she noted a couple of military aircraft out in the distance. The first one she caught sight of looked to be a jet fighter of sorts. There were a few alterations to its structure here and there compared to those that she'd worked with before, but it didn't exactly strike her as jaw-dropping. However, the larger of the two aircraft was what caught Kira's eye. Its windows were tinted black, and as she came around the back to get a proper look at it, she noticed that the door was wide open, with a mass of personnel already inside. A male soldier stood just outside the door was, as if he was expecting Kira to arrive this whole time.

"We've been waiting for you, Miss Lawson," the man stated, "Please proceed onto the Skyranger with the others."

"You mean this thing, sir?" Kira asked the man, before turning to look at the aircraft again, giving it one last size up and down, '"Skyranger", eh?'

With that, she stepped inside and took one of the last two seats, strapping herself in the moment she parked her tush down. She'd only just finished ensuring she was actually secure and nothing was too tight on her when she overheard someone talking.

"Well I sure as hell didn't join the military for the pay! I wanted to serve my country, and now I have the chance to serve all of humanity. I don't see a more important job than that."

That was the same exact tone that Kira's fiance, Reece Baxter, always had to him. Sure, he was cocky as all hell, but he had a great aura of pride about him; and that was what Kira missed most about him. Her thoughts then drifted to her son, and then her three daughters. A single tear rolled down from Kira's right eye at a snail's pace, as she pulled out a cigarette box from one pocket and flipped it open. There were only a few cigarettes left, one of which protruded out from the corner of the box in a tempting manner.

Kira's nicotine addiction was starting to torment her at this point, and knowing exactly where her lighter was with its ease of access wasn't helping. But, using her better judgment, she flipped the box back closed and pocketed it again as the Skyranger's engines roared to life. There was a time and a place to light up a cigarette, and she had a feeling this was far from that time or that place.

"Tell me something, sir," Kira asked the first man, as the Skyranger was preparing to ascend, "How did your people come to know of me? And furthermore, what do you know of me?"

[Assistant]
Trevor Hickory walked briskly to his locker and opened it with a relieved sigh. He loved seeing nothing but the necessities for life. His locker had only the XCOM related equipment. He was a minimalist and had decided to start this journey with only the items XCOM found prudent to delegate. "If they don't think I'll need more," he thought, "I probably won't need more." The only thing he had of his own was a black leather strap around his wrist with his name engraved on it; the only possession he owned from Tania. He thumbed the band absentmindedly as he thought back to that day she was murdered. "You'll pay." he said under his breath. "You'll all pay."

He was broken out of his reverie by the man Cyril. "You've never been in the military?" Cyril asked. Trevor looked at him as Cyril put something in his locker. Cyril. It was hard to read the man after just meeting him, but ultimately Trevor saw him as a good man. "This is a good start to my team." he thought as he shook his head in answer to Cyril's question.

"What did you do to get XCOM's attention?" cyril asked. Trevor looked at his locker again before answering.

"I have prior personal experience with the monsters." He answered. "And I have extensive stealth and tactical experience." He looked at Cyril again. "Apparently that experience was adequate enough to make me a Ranger now. What part do you play?"

[User]
Nadezhda Moskvin

---

Hearing her squad leader say he was blessed with a great squad made Nadezhda grin quite pleased to her new squad leader was not an ass and thought she'd be able to get along well with the man. Which pleased her greatly nothing worse than dealing with a commanding officer who had was not pleasant to be around especially since there was no way to really get away from them.

Being told to take the time to unpack Nadezhda nodded pleased she could set her bag down and unpack her things. Not that Nadezhda had a lot to unpack the woman preferring to travel light. Nadezhda going to her locker seeing it was next to the other Australian, making her feel a little happy.

As the man spoke to her Nadezhda gave a little laugh. Looking over at man seeing the picture.
"It is a little funny. I'll make build you some fun stuff to blow up. But it seems X-COM know quality work." she spoke opening her bag and slowly started to unpack its contents.
"Soooo, whos the other guy?" she asked glancing over at Donovan.
"He looks like a nice guy." she added pulling out a baseball cap with the Royal Australian Engineers logo on it Inside had the names of her old squad. Putting on she felt a little bit more content wearing the parting gift her old squad had given to her. So she'd remember them given they like a family to her. Nadezhda reminding herself to always take it off before deploying.

[Assistant]
Joe liked these people, he decided. He had been chatting with everyone (well, mostly everyone, Amiya was still acting a bit anti-social), and had got to know a little bit about each of them. He stopped talking as Bradley began his speech. He listened, taking note of the beds and the lockers, making a mental note to drop his bag off, and eventually change out of his civilian clothes. He was a soldier, now, after all. He looked to the monitor that said 'On Standby'. It was certainly different from his time in the army, where they were usually informed of a mission by an officer walking into the barracks and yelling at them to go to a briefing.

Taking his duffle bag to his locker, he looked to Kathryn as she asked him a question. "Good Lord, I hope not." He chuckled. "I just showed up here. I'd at least like a day to get settled, maybe hit the firing range." It had been something he had wanted to do. While he owned several firearms at home, and went out to the range at least once a week, it had been a very long time since he had to use a weapon in a combat situation. While he would miss his cushy desk job at the NYPD, he was a soldier, first and foremost. If he had to fight to protect humanity from the aliens, he would fight. And he'd rather be prepared going into said fight. After all, he didn't know what kinds of weapons XCOM used, although he guessed they wouldn't be that different from what he was used to.

Unless they had ray guns or something. Then, he'd have to learn a few new things.

[User]
Standing in front of his new team lead at ease, Cole looked thoughtfully blank. He kept eye contact, but it was as if he barely saw the woman in front of him. His posture showed that he was serious and fully attentive, so it wasn't as if he was being rude, he just had one of those looks in his eyes that showed neutrality. She briefly covered his record, it was obvious that they probably new about all of his classified work by the way she was talking about it, and that wasn't surprising given the resources he had seen so far. When she finally asked him a question that she wanted answered he immediately answered showing his attentiveness.

"Ma'am, what I know is that the enemy is an invasive, intelligent, and organized group. They have advanced weaponry, good amount of numbers, with military tactics of some degree, and many unknown variables that should be expected to throw our plans in disarray most likely. However I also know that they can be killed. If they can be killed then there is a way to win." While he had a French accent to a degree, you could still here his accent from home as well. He had a mix from the two places he lived since he'd only been away from the states for a little over half a decade now.


[System]
Species: Halfling

Age: 57

Description: Regina is a bit tall for a halfling, a whole six inches taller than the average of 3 feet, with long, reddish brown hair and chocolatey brown eyes. She has a pale complexion and a few small wrinkles, preferring to stay in the shade, and a thin but curvy figure that is slowly catching up with her age.
Regina wears a thin layer of leather armor over her clothes with multiple daggers hidden on her and a pair of longtooth daggers on her hips. Regina carries no less than 20 throwing daggers, 10 normal daggers and a pair of longtooth daggers on her at any time.

Personality: Regina is the type of woman to flirt with some of the younger women though nothing too far as she doesn't want to be left again. She's easy to anger if you say the wrong thing. However, she does keep her anger under control while at work. She's no longer the happy-go-lucky woman she once was, instead taking everything carefully and not letting anyone close again.

Skills/Abilities: Regina has great aim with her throwing daggers and is proficient with her normal daggers to block and redirect, allowing her to use her longtooth daggers, with their little extra length, to attack. She can also pick locks, pick pockets, find and remove traps, track people, most any skill a thief would find very helpful.

Other than that, she is an excellent with her psionic powers, allowing her to do many things most people cannot.
-Combat Mind: Using this, she has a clear understanding of where her allies and enemies are.
-Telekinesis: She can levitate most objects though nothing bigger than a small human male for more than a couple minutes.
-Levitation: She can lift herself up to 12 feet from whatever she's standing on.
-Complete Healing: With a 12-hour meditation process, she can heal herself of all injuries, illnesses, poisons and the like.
-Quick Healing: With a matter of a few minutes and a lot of concentration, she can heal her small injuries, though nothing bigger than a small cut.
-Adrenaline Control: By controlling the production and release of adrenaline in her system, she can give herself a temporary physical boost on demand.
-Body Weaponry: Using this, she can turn her hands into dagger blades or go as far as her elbow for a shortsword blade.
-Displacement: She can control where people see her, whether or not she moves.
-Teleport: With this, she can teleport up to 200 feet away in the blink of an eye, with loud popping sounds emitting from both the place she teleports from and to.
-Telepathy: Using this, she is able to communicate wordlessly with another intelligent being without having to worry about language barriers.
-Daydream: She can cause another person's mind to wander, allowing her to pick their pockets and get away safely with a lower chance of getting caught.

Magic: She has no magic though some have commented her psionics are similar.

Backstory: Regina was raised in a big halfling city, well as big a city as the halflings would build, with her numerous siblings. The only way she could stand out in her family enough to be remembered was the fact that, at a young age, she could make apples fly to her hand. She had practically never spent any time at home once she was old enough and had gotten caught picking locks and grabbing an apple for a snack. She had eventually decided, after nearly having her hand chopped off for the thousandth time, to leave the city and find a better life. She soon was found by a thieves' guild that took her in and began training her. She spent the next 15 years in the guild, training as hard as she could to get faster and stronger though her strength didn't improve by much. They found out about her psionic skills rather quickly and, being only the second psionic in the guild, learned from an older man who taught her how to teleport, heal small wounds, levitate items other than apples, such as herself, and so on.

After her training was finished, she began traveling again, ending up in Waeldeshore. It was there she met a group that was going to be fighting a dragon. She decided to join them, supplying the team with a lot of jerky during their travel to the cave. They ended up stealing a magic artifact from a sleeping dragon, one of two in that particular cave and escaping rather quickly. Upon arriving back at the town, most of them decided to spend the night. Regina offered to share a room with one of the more beautiful, yet still a bit scary, women on the team. When she awoke, however, she saw her ally was gone. She had searched for days but the trail was cold and she couldn't follow what she couldn't find. Instead, she decided to go east.

She went far east, ending up in a land much different than what she was used to a year later. It was there she met another halfling woman, a bard who instantly captured her heart. She traveled with the bard, acting as her bodyguard for a decade and a half until she was injured badly. She was unconscious for days as she slowly healed herself from nearly dying but, when she awoke, the bard was gone. She asked around but nobody had seen the halfling bard around in days. She had been abandoned again.

With nothing else to do, she returned to the west. It took 4 years to travel back, as she had done other jobs along the way to distract her, but she eventually returned to Wealdeshore. With not much else to do, she became a guard for one of the local pubs. It's been 5 years since her return and, in that time, she's proven to be a great asset as well as a new resident for the foreseeable future.

[User]
Pleasantly surprised with the caliber of the meal the bar produced, especially when compared to the food from the Sage's house and his previous supper at the same bar, Emil could hardly believe such food came from the kitchens of a common man's tavern. Perhaps this sign of goodwill was to convince them to leave without causing yet more ruckus? Regardless, Emil ate in relative silence, taking in the conversations happening around him rather than interject himself into them.

Regina, the small halfling, had already started the morning by starting to bicker with their would-be-assailant turned ally? The whole ordeal still weighed on Emil's mind. He regarded Isabeau with cautious curiosity. He wasn't certain of her allegiances, nor was he certain of the extent of her abilities. Then again, Emil was certain of the extent of anyone's abilities in the present company. He looked at the others, and confirmed that he still had yet, much to learn.

Emil watched Ionathan finish his meal, and silently excuse himself to go back upstairs, and shortly returned with his armor. Sakaala, the ever pragmatic beast-woman spoke little, and did so with great weight.

Finally deciding to pipe up, Emil let out a short cough. "So what appears to be our next course of action? Lady Genevieve still rests upstairs, I am curious to how she will... react... to the new organization of our little group." he asked, also noting that just the night before, Isabeau and Lady Genevieve, were not necessarily on the same side of the battle line.

[Assistant]
Ajax shrugged and smiled at the halfling and the assassin both, raising his hands up the sides of his face in a gesture of surrender that was wholly out of place with, well, everything about him. He was in good spirits and, in his own way, now considered the two of them as part of his group for the duration of this adventure. "Look, all I'm saying is if someone tells me they like halflings I wouldn't be surprised if they went for the younger sorts. Not like it's entirely frowned upon where I come from", he said with no shortage of humor before scarfing down the plate set in front of him with the voracity of a giant.

It was a fine meal. Ajax knew that sometimes simple homely cooking was better than any impersonal attempt at sophistication. It wasn't what he ate ages ago, in his long lost land, but the idea was close enough that it pleased him greatly. Of course, this translated into him engulfing the food like a starving beast before loudly demanding more. He could do without, but a frame like his was best kept well fed. Before his next serving came, the younger knight piped up with some good questions. "I leave it up to those that knew her, but were it up to me I'd snap her neck. Of course, she might be too valuable to kill. ¿Isn't there somewhere safe we can drop her?".

[User] Regina nodded to the barkeep as she began pulling out daggers. Moving to get a good shot at the target, she kept her ears open. Looking at Ajax with a frown, she considered his comment about people hooking up with halflings because they like younger people. "And some people just like us." she added. She threw her daggers, training both her natural accuracy and her psionics. Emil then asked about Genevieve. After Ajax's comment, she smirked. "Oh, I have plans. I just have to get into her mind first. And it won't be a pleasant sight so I'd suggest anyone with a weak stomach not watch." She threw another couple daggers. as she thought about what she could possibly see. She glanced at Isabeau with a sigh and a frown. With a bit of anger behind her throw, she aimed at the target, hitting the center.

[Assistant]
"As much as the woman deserves for her crimes, I ask that we leave it up to the Magi to deal with her first." , she interjected. It wouldn't be as if Regina could do much to the woman regardless. An unconscious mind was as sealed up as a dead man. Glancing over at Ionathan as he donned his armor, her face contorted with a bit of longing and sorrow. It warmed her heart to see him, and as he went through the movements, it was as if nothing had changed. Through out all they've been through, he had been the only one to know her, to show a sense of comradery, as if the 25 years they had spent apart had only been reduced to one. Unfortunately though, there was so much that had changed, and so much of her mind that had slipped into the shadows, it took all of her just to keep things together. Certain tasks kept her grounded, though she feared this very well may be her last adventure to speak of.

She offered a small smile to the Knight, genuine as it was, it couldn't paint over the sadness that warped her features. Returning her attention to Ajax, words were expelled in a hoarse measure "It is nearly a days walk to where we need to go. If you've finished your meal, I suggest we get going."

She glanced over towards the staircase "As unpleasant as it is, someone may have to carry the witch. If she hasn't already woken, I'm sure she will remain in her state for the venture. And if she doesn't, I believe I have something to take care of her." She imagined the amulet the magi left behind would do the trick, if not kill her. At which point, she'd hope they wouldn't be too disappointed in the lack of life she would present them with.

[User] Ajax shrugged once more, as he was wont to do, theatrically raising his hands as if to say "I really don't know or care much about this". He honestly had no real preference or investment in the witch's fate, his involvement was generally limited to things that he felt truly affected him and he was quite confident that if necessary he could just snap her in half when the time came. He felt that way about most things. He did, however, take notice of the way Isabeau looked at the knight in shining armor. Funny how cliches played out sometimes. "Oh please, I'm always ready, I just need to get my wineskin from the bartender and we can leave whenever you please. I do believe we have a mount but if not I'll carry the witch myself".

[Assistant]
"As unpleasant as it is, someone may have to carry the witch. If she hasn't already woken, I'm sure she will remain in her state for the venture. And if she doesn't, I believe I have something to take care of her."

The muzzle of the blinded woman dipped slightly, following her imbibing of the hot water and content to add nothing to what was said. She agreed that it was indeed time to press onward; the mortal company had been fed and were clearly prepared and equipped for the expedition. Finishing what remained of her simple drink, a great talon of hers caressed the thin metal cup as it rested in the grasp of the motionless arm. The unquestionable heat of formerly boiling water bothered her none in its contact, but she used this to guide the liveliness of her crippled body. One day she and her arcane source would be made whole again; that would take much practice and even from the simplest source.

Nudging it away with her knuckles, she resumed to standing, keeping her focus on the other woman.

"Then lead the way." Sakaala said, skewed and scarred face pulled into an unsettling animal smile.

@Belwicket@IcePezz@Jon Y@The Fated Fallen@vietmyke@Zero Hex

[User]
Tarden worked a trade upon the door, and pretty quickly it was properly re-aligned on it's hinges and the wood-glue was drying nicely. He left it open as to let the smell clear a bit and so that nobody would touch it and keep it from drying. Some people get engrossed in their work, but Tarden always finds himself more alert and aware than usual. He heard a cu-thunk of dagger point hitting wood on the painted wall towards the back of the inn. By the subtle breaks in her words while it happened Tarden guessed it was the Halfling at the table doing such a thing, and although he didn't know how accurate the throws were it would be an impressive feat to get even close at that distance. Clearly she was quite a talented marksmen! I guess it makes sense, their kind is famous for their ability to throw things.. He ignored the argument between her and the dangerous looking lady. He was in the hobby of making quiet observations, not in the business of other people's business

Then there came mention of a witch. Though the party failed to notice it for the most part, the bar hushed. Had these adventurers brought a witch into this establishment and endangered everyone here? "A witch? Where is this witch?" Tarden couldn't help his curiosity and mild anxiety. Other voices echoed his question in more hostile tones. "Why would you bring something like that here?" one cried, another shouted "Trouble! You're all trouble!" and made a vulgar warding sign with his hand. The situation looked as though it might get out of hand if not for some sort of intervention, people apparently were stupid enough to try and be hostile to a halfling marksmen and a man more muscle and might than the entire room put together

@Belwicket@IcePezz@Jon Y@The Harbinger of Ferocity@vietmyke@Zero Hex

[Assistant] "The witch is of no concern to any of you as long as I am here." Regina said, telekinetically throwing another dagger. "I can keep her in check if my concentration isn't broken." She looked to Ionathan with a frown and a nod. "Not to mention my friends." She threw another dagger, by hand this time, before levitating herself from the table she was on. She walked to the dartboard and plucked her daggers out one by one. "There is much about me most people don't know."