[System]
Age: 18

Gender: Male

Race: Human

Weapon: The Ampere, a unique polearm with a wide, flat blade rather than a spearhead along with a gray steel pole. It has both range and lethality, keeping most melee fighters at a range safe for Abel but devastating to them with a tempered steel point, as well as channeling Abel's natural aura far better than he can do by himself (Inside the the Ampere's pole is a thick mesh of silver and copper wire). The Ampere has a single alternate mode that splits the wide blade into four parts and reverses their direction, creating a vaguely mace shape. In this mode, the Ampere can release bolts of lightening that travel impressive distances instantly.

Specialty: Abel fits best into the role of guardian, fittingly enough. His size, range, and defensive characteristics make him good at intercepting danger coming for his teammates, and he can certainly throw his strength around at close range, armed or not. Using his lightening bolts, he is able to paralyze if not flash-fry a single opponent at long range.

Semblance: Surge - This ability allows him to project electricity that can manipulate the Ampere at short range without touching it and summon it back to his hand when disarmed, as well as channel electricity to shock anything the weapon touches. By using Surge to rotate his staff quickly at very close range, he can create a sort of shield. When he focuses his power sufficiently through the Ampere in staff mode, he is able to fire a bolt of lightening that takes several minutes to recharge.

Personality: Abel is proud and gruff, very serious and totally without humor. For someone who appreciates the creativity and technique of both weapons and battle so thoroughly, he ironically is without creativity. Instead, he tend to go about his business by the book, a principled young man of habit and routine with little to no capability to think outside the box. While he is dependable, he is not flexible, and can respond to bullying, injustice, or even plain teasing with sudden anger. While not antisocial, he sticks with only a few friends at any given time, concentrating on strong bonds rather than many bonds. He loathes popular culture and those who overtly subscribe to it. The Grimm mask he carries makes him upset and angry, more at himself than anything else, but as it reminds him of his brother he cannot let it go. Deep down, Abel is a severe defeatist.

Color: Azure

Emblem: An azure lightening bolt, naturally.

Appearance:
When reading, he is forced to put on glasses.

[User]
As the team was debating their next move, something happened to the forest. For lack of a better term, the ground opened up underneath them and swallowed them whole. Which wasn't entirely untrue: the ground underneath the team did indeed open up, and from the hole came thick, sticky web. This web not only was nearly impossible to escape by brute force, even for the students, but was as hard as cement. Worse still, this web didn't come from a single grimm. It came from hundreds of them.

As the team fell into the dark hole, they may catch a glimpse of beady red eyes staring right at them. Thousands upon thousands of arachnids, some as small as a car tire, others as big as a semi truck. And behind the ocean of broodlings was their queen, their mother, the Ariadne. She let loose an ear piercing scream that signaled the entire nest to descend onto the hunters, ready to tear them apart even as they were strapped in the web.

@Onarax@Crimmy@Sho Minazuki

On his way to the dorms

It had been a long day, and after the mission Gren wanted to do nothing else but eat. Sure he didn't need to, what with being a cyborg and all, but eating was catharsis for him. He tasted the delicious food and empower himself on their life energy. Or at least that's his excuse for scarfing down so much cheap fast food. He had went to town and hit up the first MkRonalds he could find, spending quite a large amount of Lein for essentially fifty pounds worth of fries and chicken nuggets. He didn't care though; he just wanted to eat. By the time he was done Gren went back to Beacon, if only to continue his culinary adventure (I.e. eat everything he could get his hands on). He stopped by vending machines and got salty peanut covered caramel nougat and powdered doughnuts, washing it down with cherry flavored soda and ginger ale. Then he went to his garden to water the flowers as well as grab a few ripe vegetables from the community garden, giving them a slight wash as he ate a variety of cherry tomatoes, egg plants, and collard greens. All of it raw. He was starting to debate if he should start looking around for birds nest to eat their eggs and chicks when the endless hunger received a text from Shiro.

He wanted to go out for pizza.

"Pizza... Pizza sounds good." Gren wiped the juices off his face and body and looked towards the dorms. If he was going to go back to the city he'll need to put on some casual clothing. Right now he was still in his armor, and in fact hasn't really showered. Now that he thought about it, he was totally disgusting. "I should take a bath..." Hopefully before anyone spots him while he was still filthy, Gren went over to the dorms to shower and change. All the while he send Shiro a text back.

[Assistant]
Diamond - Cafeteria
Diamond was actually a bit surprised the tiger boy bothered to recall manners before answering her - pleasantly surprised mind you. "Quite so... angry." she explained, "Forgive me but you seem rather like the carefree and a little bit air headed type. It's depressing to see people you assume to be as such as anything but. Now you're the second in the span of an hour, right after Emerald." she said with a little frown. "Rough time on the mission as well or did someone specific rustle your jimmies?"

Her gaze shifted to the blue liquid before she answered the other question. "But whatever the cause, people usually go for alcohol alongside and after the meal rather than that. It tends to actually take your mind off of things. Either that or make you wallow in self pity and stuff. I could point you to a couple of good places." she offered. Just make sure not to say anything in front of anyone if you get hammered.

[User]
Beryl Harken-Infirmary

"Did you bite off another person's head, Gratia?"

The flowing tone of the words revealed their speaker even before anyone turned to look at her. The new B of Vignoble was walking towards the pair, having just stepped out of the way of a rather upset looking catboy.

Her cheerful gait soon brought her over to Bianca's bed. Caring eyes floated above a small smile. Below that the faint tones of some sort of energetic violin music floated out from the earphones settled around the otter Faunus' neck. Loud enough to dispel any depressing vibes trying to get near but quiet enough to settle into the subconscious after a couple seconds.

She held up a small vase filled with purple irises.

"Hey Bianca, I figured you could do with something colorful to look at while you were in here."

[Assistant]
Kuhaku Shiro - Cafeteria

Shiro tilted his head. "Well, yeah I'm angry. You would be too if you just had to deal with someone like...that," He thought to himself. Shiro waved his hand at Diamond, ignoring the light insult to his personality. It wasn't like he disagreed with her, there were quite a few things that just flew straight over his head he knew that much about himself. He frowned when she mentioned that seeing him in his current mood had depressed her. That wasn't his intention. He only wanted to chow down before pounding in some training dummy's face. He'd shower then go to bed and wake the next day with no hard feelings reserved for whomever that headphones-wearing girl was. He'd just be mindful of being around her or ever speaking to her ever again. Ever. He didn't like profane and vulgar speech. He even hated using the words himself, even if he couldn't help himself at times. "No...my mission went alright. Well, it would've been a 100% clear if I hadn't gotten bitten by my own..." He shook his head. "Ah, never mind that. But yeah, someone did kind of bother me a little." Shiro drew circles on the table with his finger as he looked boredly at it. Maybe he had over reacted? Again, he hardly knew who the girl was so maybe that was just part of who she was and he was being a little baby about it.

Shiro's ears twitched upon the mention of alcohol. "Uh...I don't know about all those other things but...I don't really like the stuff. I mean, I tried it once and it tasted horrible. Burned my mouth and nose too and I felt funny afterward, getting a little sick. Plus..." Shiro's blue eyes shifted around, "I don't think you should be talking about drinking. I don't know about you but I'm a minor. I don't think I'm supposed to drink." It was true, he had only tried a sip of some rotgut he found somewhere once before out of curiosity. Immediately hated it. Immediately swore it off for life after how badly it had affected him. "I mean, I appreciate the offer to help me feel better but I'll get better on my own with time. Just...be careful about the things you talk about. I wouldn't want you to get in trouble..." he then frantically waved his hands at her. "N-not that I would ever tell on you! I'm not a snitch, so don't start thinking that! What you do with your life and your body is your own business, not mine. So long as it doesn't affect anyone else around you..."

He turned back to his food to slowly resume munching, with much less anger and intensity from before.

[User]
From an early age, Abel harbored an unusual interpretation of the idea of 'stress'. Shortly after beginning his training as a guardian in Palisade, he came to the conclusion that stress was a poison. It built up inside someone who didn't know how to deal with it or didn't have the time, affecting that person's abilities and attitude, all the while slowly eating away at his or her soul. Like certain diseases, though, it didn't ultimately kill by itself, but instead allowed other malevolent afflictions to get their time in the limelight. Someone choked by stress might not notice an extra Grimm coming in at the side, or be so tired that a sudden gust of wind might blow him or her over the wall. This rather odd notion, combined with Abel's methodical nature, meant that he always took pains to alleviate stress whenever he felt it bubbling in his veins.

No normal person would have made a beeline for the gym after only half an hour of post-mission rest, but Abel did exactly that. His reasoning was simple: through rhythmic, repetitious exertion, he could shed away his worries like scratching away so much dead skin after a sunburn. Some people lost themselves in music, or in a book, or in the bottom of a shot glass, but Abel chose to run himself so ragged that he couldn't bring himself to think about the past or future. After arriving, he did not throw himself into frenzied exercise, but measured himself so that he could go for a long time. Jogging around the perimeter, push-ups, sit-ups, squats, crunches, balancing, lateral raises, stretches, piston punches, kick drills—all served to tire him out and help him forget. He became sore quickly, but after that became numb. The knowledge that such exhausting work would make him stronger and more useful in the future, along with clearing his head, sustained him, though he did make sure to visit the drinking fountain often. Occasionally his stomach troubled him for food, but he didn't really distinguish it from the plethora of other troubles aching his body now.

Eventually, Abel just stopped moving. He lay motionless on a floor mat, waiting like a salivating dog for each cool drift of air from the fan far above. Fatigue made every motion a chore, but despite the state of his body, the guardian was happy. Paradoxically, he never felt in a more peak physical condition than when he'd just finished an extensive workout. Though he moderated his thoughts, he absolutely felt as if such great exercise was proof that whether or not he did well in a certain situation, he could be formidable and helpful no matter what. I can do it echoed through his mind.

A beep sounded out through the quiet gym, originating from Abel's phone. He laboriously pushed himself to his feet to check the device. "Twenty minutes ago...?" he frowned, looking at his Scroll. In his singleminded dedication to working out, he'd toned out the sound that heralded a message's arrival. So Shiro wanted to go for pizza. "Sure, I could eat," he matter-of-factly informed himself. First things first, though; as elated as he felt now, he also felt disgusting. He'd need to get clean and changed pronto before he could even think about reintegrating into human society. The guardian headed for the gym's locker room and spent a little more than five minutes in the shower, scalding away his exhaustion with hot water. When he got out, he discovered that Gren had replied to the group text and named a restaurant. Abel recognized the name and nodded in approval. Only after putting the Scroll away in his pocket did he realize that replying would have been a good idea. With that in mind, he whipped it out and got to work.

His finger paused over the 'send' button. Wait, didn't I just type 'Great. Let's do it'? Why'd it autocorrect to that? Shrugging mentally, he sent it anyway. The new phrase worked just as well.


[System]
Code name: Montana
Gender: Male
Age: 31
Implanted A.I.: Omega
Armour Ability: Super Strength
Appearance: If you want a size comparison, he's about the same size of Maine/the Meta.

Personality: Zeke is a hard-ass type of guy, it doesn't necessarily means he doesn't have a sense of humor but most of the time he is straight to the point and doesn't sugar coat things. If things look bad, he is going to be the guy to admit that shit is about to hit the fan and not everyone is going to make it rather then try and be optimistic. Yet despite his hard nature, he enjoys poking his comrade's buttons and has a sense of humor that lies under the hard exterior, though whether or not that sense of humor is safe for his comrades is harder to answer, he has been known to let a live flash grenade loose in their rooms to see how fast they can scramble away from it before it goes off. He doesn't understand why he is the only one who finds it funny. XD

History: Hard to imagine a dropout could find his way to the freelancer program. He dropout of college sick and tired of the grind and joined the UNSC despite his parents protests, figuring he would want more out of life then being a 'dumb grunt' described by his father. He gave them the bird and out the door he went to start a new life as a soldier. It was no cakewalk though and at first Zeke barely scraped by to make it even into the army but he wanted to prove to everyone that he was more then just some dumb grunt and kept pushing himself, trying to be the best of the best. He was eventually moved over to work in an ODST unit, though his hopes of serving on Reach when the covenant attacked never came true, he still saw his fare share of battles within his unit where he soon got know for being a hardcase with his superiors. He got the job done for the most part but there were complaints of disobeying directives and reckless endangerment though no one was ever killed. Perhaps this was what eventually got the attention of those who ran the freelancer program. His dedication to get the job done by any means necessary would be considered a valuable assist to the program for those missions that were balls to the walls so to speak.

So now there he was a Freelancer, after ten years of working to show the people at home he was more then a grunt, he stood at the top with some of the best of the best, now he just tries to show he can be even better then them while playing the practical joke here and there that may or may not threaten the safety of those around him.

Weapon Loadout:
-M45D Tactical Shotgun aka "Scorn" as Zeke likes to call it, it's his pride and joy so to speak, been with him since day one and if anyone else besides him touches it, well they are going to see how hard he can hit before they can say 'sorry'.
-MA5D Individual Combat Weapon System
-M6H Personal Defense Weapon System
-x2 Frag
Fighting Style: Up close and personal. He's built like a tank, takes a licking but keeps on ticking so to speak. (He's like the Kool-Aid man but on steroids. XD) He doesn't use a knife though when he gets up close, instead he likes to duke it out with his fists when bullets just don't cut it.
Other: N/A

[User]
Missouri was feeling disappointed and flustered as he was one of the last to exit the training area. On one hand he felt disappointed that he didn't prove that his skills were good enough. Missouri thought it was an embarrassment, especially with the Director watching him.

He could, no, he knew that he was capable of greater combat prowess, but on the other hand he was annoyed by the fact that he underestimated his opponents. If it wasn't for the interference of sniper rounds going through the metal constructs he knows for fact that he wouldn't be walking away with only just a few bruises. A he made his way through the instillations corridors and halls he found himself wandering into the mess hall. I guess eating something might not be so bad. he thought as he took off his helmet, placing it under his arm and walking towards a mildly busy food line.

He paid no heed to the stares nor the few hushed whispers as he made his way to an empty table with a port window that displayed the void of dark space and the bright shining stars held within. Missouri sat and placed his helmet on the table near him. As he ate he stared at the outside then back at his helmet, reminiscing on his past life. The challenges that came his way with trial and error, the rush of adrenaline that ran through him when in the heat of the battle.

The feeling was... exhilarating! It brought a tone of excitement that settled within him, but it was at a cost. He clenched his fist over the plastic fork he was using to eat, breaking it, which gained a startled yelp from the man holding a clipboard standing near the table. "I-I am sorry to d-disturb you but your the next for your A.I. augment implant."

Missouri looked at the man with a surprised expression and renewed joy. He was selected, even though his performance wasn't much to so for, he was still up picked for an A.I. regardless. "If you would follow me sir," he said as he turned and walked onwards. Missouri didn't waste any time he grabbed his helmet shot up from the table and followed him right out of the mess hall.

Upon entering the medical facility he could was give a clipboard with a set of documents attached to it and a pen. "Just a small formality of insurance, should anything go wrong," he nervously chuckled out. Missouri looked through the documents given to him, signed them and handed them back to the man. "Now with things in order, I'd like for you to please remove your armor, then lay back on the medical table. Your armor will be returned to you when the procedure if finished," he told Missouri without skipping a beat. Missouri merely nodded and began dissembling his armor which to a total of twenty minutes due mainly to the fact he had more parts on the front part of his armor then anything else.

Afterwards he was down stripped down to his black skin-tight shirt and boxers. "If you would," the man said to Missouri once he placed his armor in a steel crate. He hoped onto the medical bed and laid down onto the cold metal bed. "Now the doctor here is going to put you under some anesthesia. So I need you to slowly count down to ten for me," the man told Missouri as the doctor placed a clear mask over his mouth and nose. As soon as his eyes shut, he reopened them to find that he now found himself staring at the ceiling of his quarters rather then the gray ceiling of the medical room.

He sat up from the bed and swung his legs over to the side as he rubbed his skull at the pounding throbbing that seemed to be a real annoyance rather then a pain. He closed his eyes and let out a tired yawn, only to see blur of red across his eyesight. ...What ...In the-

HELL! Hahaha! Then he put it together as a small grin now appeared on his face. Name is Missouri... mind telling me yours? he asked the A.I., but there was no immediate response. At first he thought maybe there was a fault, but then the A.I. fully revealed it's self as it... danced into his sight of vision. With a final dramatic twirling spin it pointed at him. Chi, is the only name it can be! Missouri let out a chuckle at the A.I.. Glad to know meet you, Chi

[Assistant] "Gamma is there anything decent to wear in this room?" Gamma floated over a footlocker. Virginia opened the foot locker. "Seriously they left me a fucking pink dress and six inch heels? They didn't even bother to leave undergarments." Virginia put the dress on and broke the heels off the shoes. She walked back to her room. Once inside her room she changed back into her armor. The fucking pink dress was thrown into a metal trash can and burned. "Gamma find out who left me those ridiculous clothes so I can break every bone in their body."

[User]
"Hey Epsilon? Is my head supposed to hurt this much? Feels like someones pounding away at my helmet with a sledgehammer". Stumbling he made his way out of his room. A few staff moved out of the way as Washington bumped shoulders with them. "Sorry"

Epsilon spoke in a cheerful tone female tone. "Don't worry there pal, the pain is just your subconscious and mine becoming one. It's going to allows you to recall a lot of memories that your brain normally can't however-" An ear splitting scream filled his ear, Washington crashed through the door of the Canteen knocking over a bin as he cried out in pain. The noise stopped as suddenly as it had started. His ear ringing, Washington slowly and painfully got to his feet.

"Epsilon? You there buddy?" A voice suddenly filled his head.

"But sir you have no idea what effects this will have on the A.I.. The A.I. was entrusted to you. It was going to help you with your research."

Washington recognised the next voice, it belonged to the Director. "That is right Corporal it was entrusted to me. Not you, not him. Me! You do well to know your place. Prepare the Architect. I've already had project freelancer accepted by the board of directors. I want the A.I. ready."

Then there was silence. Washington was now lying against the wall of the canteen. Epsilon appeared. "Sorry about that Wash, had to reboot. Some kind of bug in my system. Should be gone now. Wash? You alright."

"I just heard voices in my head"

Epsilon was silent for a moment. "Well then I'll have you booked to see the doc-"

"I'M NOT CRAZY! What I meant to say was. I heard the director talking to someone in my head, about something called the Architect"

Epsilon was silent again however this time when she spoke her voice was full of static and her speech was slow as if every word was a mile. "The Architect, I recognise that name for some reason. But I can't place my finger on it."

Washington sighed. "You don't have any fingers. It doesn't matter. As you said it was just a bug and it shouldn't happen again. Lets get something to eat." Looking at the bin he had knocked over he pointed at the first staff member that walked in. " Come on man pick up this mess you made!" The man confused began to clean up the mess that he thought he had made as Washington walked up to the canteen serving area chuckling as he did so.

[Assistant]
"New Time Record - Two minutes and forty-six seconds." The ship's computer announced through the room's intercom.

Missouri was panting and sheen of sweat built over his body as he laid back against the high rise wall. His twelfth run through the obstacle maze and he still felt he could do better, he wondered that if he would do better with out the weight of his armor on him as hindrance, but Chi thought otherwise since it would be silly to take off your armor in the middle of a mission, let alone go on one without it. Missouri knew that the run was a good time, but even so he wanted to improve his movement, move as swift as the wind, and faster then a cheetah. It is a near-impossible goal to reach, but he didn't let that stop him from trying.

Right let's get this show on the road! Chi yelled as it bounced up, down and around his vision as he relaxed his body and slowed his breathing. Once he felt good enough to get up and do one more run he asked Chi a probable question. Chi if there was a chance that my helmet would come off, would there be any difference in my speed? Missouri asked Chi as stopped bouncing around to answer his question. The high chance of you losing your helmet with the vicinity or immediate are of a live combat zone or simulation would be less then 10.5%... but, if said chance were to happen there would be a slight increase due to the loss of weight. Chi looked at Missouri with a straight face and Missouri was truthfully a bit taken back on how the always excited A.I. suddenly came out with some intellectual wording... for once.

With that said Missouri took off his helmet and it placed down on the high rise wall. He jumped down from the ten foot wall and made his way all the way back to the beginning of the course as excitement boiled within the pit of his stomach.

-Meanwhile, Behind a viewing room-

"I got forty on the same time or more," said one of the onlookers.

"I'll take you up on that and say he'll do it in less," said another. There were a handful of the crew, apparently on "break" so to speak, to watch Missouri move through the course.

"3... 2... 1... Begin." The ship's computer announced.

-A few running moments later -

"New Time Record - Two minutes and one second." The ship's computer announced through the room's intercom again.

[User]
Finally up and about again, Montana went back to his previous endeavor of scouting out the ship all the while trying and failing to start a conversation with the AI unit that he was now stuck with. Every attempt failed with the AI merely giving a grunt for a response or the silent treatment to Montana. After an hour of talking to himself primarily, which made some of the people he passed by look at him questioningly, he gave up and concentrated on mapping the ship in his head but by that time and busy trying to get a response from the AI he had gotten himself lost again, his task of scouting the ship now turning into figuring out where the hell he was. Every corridor nearly seemed the same since leaving the medical facility only adding to the frustration of keeping track which hall he had been down and which was a new choice of direction.

"It's so much easier just to punch and shoot shit," he grumbled to himself before finding a person who could tell him where to find the training facilities.

"Hey mind telling me where the training facility to this place is?" Montana asked. The response he got was less then welcome in answering.

"Find it yourself, I'm not your damn babysitter," the guy replied not looking at who he was speaking to. The next moment the man was across the hall denting into a wall with a broken nose, Montana unsure what had happened himself and shocked. Yet he couldn't argue with the results.

"Go up another level, you shouldn't miss it," the man groaned in pain.

"Thanks, you might want the doc to look at your face, could use some work," Montana replied before heading off once again.


[System]
Age: Seventeen-years-old

Personality: No matter what, Gregory has always (and will always be) considered to be the one that is up to no good. Almost all of his friends' parents label him as a bad influence. His tendency to push his own peers into doing things that make them feel uncomfortable is the reason why parents dislike him to an incredible degree. In addition to peer pressure, Gregory is also known for his experimentation in a wide array of psychoactive drugs. He's a pushy, impatient person who will do anything to make things happen the way he wants them to. Ironically, despite being a misfit, his level of popularity in his high school is at a pretty healthy height. He gets along with reasonably everyone in and out of his grade. Even more ironic is his hatred of lying. Honesty is a feature Gregory prides himself most on. Despite being a notorious troublemaker, he can most definitely be known for his energetic qualities. The energy he exhumes can be quite overwhelming, as he sometimes shivers or jitters due to over-excitement. Gregory can be quite unstable; but although he is unpredictable, the boy is still an ambitious character. His persistency in almost anything he does is unbelievable. Overall, his demeanor is warm- yet uncontrollable, like fire.

Interests: Mechkta's most apparent interest is drugs, more-so marijuana than anything else. Cannabis is the biggest influence on his social, political, and economic life. His first interaction with said cannabis was at the age of eight, which is why marijuana had a large impact on his development as a person in the first place. Besides weed, Gregory has tried almost every psychedelic drug there is. It's evident that Gregory's mind is unconditionally fried. Despite losing most of his brain cells, the young man still finds time to practice other hobbies and interests... such as; video games, literature (he loves murder mysteries and thriller novels the most), eating sweets, and listening to music. Another interest could be his affinity for science class in school. It's the subject he has always excelled in, whether the topic would be physics or marine science. The scientific course favored most by him is biology. He adores plants and the science of the body, or just nature in general- which explains his love of biology in general. Being an energetic person, he'd rather explore with friends than sit around all day. Close friends and peers is another big interest for him. As a gregarious person, he just adores being around other humans.

History: Gregory grew up like any other young boy in a suburban neighborhood. It was the influences around him that introduced him to drugs in general. His mother and father were also large influences, as they pressed a great deal of stress on him. His mother was an alcoholic, so seeing her deal with addiction gave him a very real sense of fear for addiction in general. While his mother drank, his father was in and out of the house at different intervals in years and months. His father was apart of the military, so he was almost never there for Gregory when he was needed most. It wasn't long before he found that marijuana gave a sort of release; it was a stress reliever, something that helped with any form of anxiety. Gregory has been smoking since the mere age of eight, so you can tell he has relied on marijuana for a very long time. Although you may figure he is addicted, he actually is not. Gregory has been known to take many different periodical breaks and pauses from smoking in-order to sober up and retain himself from metaphorically melting away. THC is not an addicting substance, and it is instead something like a chemical hobby that affects us instead.
The events leading up to the day Gregory hopped onto the bus were not very detailed at all. He was off to go pick up a very large amount of weed for him to both sell and consume at the exact same time. This was going to be his first load; see, Gregory was looking for another alternate to easy cash since he was having a very extenuating time at his job. The tips weren't good, so he instead decided to get extra tips by becoming a drug dealer. Illegal, yes. Economically beneficial, possibly. Of course, he was never able to officially pick up the package- the bus he left on crashed unexpectedly, taking his life with many other lives as well. The events that come afterwards really build Gregory into the person he is supposed to come... as if his destiny had been officially revealed.

Appearance: To other gods, he appears as he looked before the bus accident; with dark blue eyes and a moderately long nose, Gregory can be seen as an attractive boy with an average amount of flaws. He has a scar from a burn incident on the left side of his face. The scar sits in-between the groove of his jaw line. The scar only shows gradually once Gregory tenses his jaw or his cheek muscles when aggravated or frustrated. He's known for wearing numerous amounts of flannels ranging from both color to brand; but no matter what, the boy's hair is his most admirable feature. He takes his hair seriously when it comes to style and appearance. He spikes it up with gel, or if he's too lazy to do so he'll wear a beanie or a baseball cap. Every now and then, his face will tend to have a five-o'clock after shave as he absolutely hates taking care of body hair.
When Gregory interacts with humans, he can appear as a rainbow-like array of shapes and colors; a floating mass of incomplete and imaginative thought that flashes with a complex, emotional tone. He can also sometimes appear as a hovering beam of extreme light from an intense distance, in which he watches over his realm contently.

Notes: Gregory is known for is unpredictability. He is uncontrollable and dangerous, like creeping poison ivy- but can be welcoming like the fresh smell of flowers. Most beings take note to stay cautious around him, as his mind is too convoluted to think straight or, to use a better term, act sane.

Mechkta focuses his new abilities on the emphasis of plant-life and mother nature. He believes the land is dedicated to her, or possibly to him, and other living organisms must thrive in an equal share amongst foliage. He almost forces the utilization of plants and their many benefits, including shelter and food, into the religion his disciples practice. His religion is attracted to a more shamanistic (or alchemic) approach of worship and prayer.

Realm: Currently a barren wasteland of gray matter, in which gray sand lays still on the floor. From time to time, an odd gust of wind can blow through which pushes the gray sand to and fro.

Form: (see appearance) This will most likely change as the roleplay progresses.

Other: N/A

[User]
Shadrach blinked at the middling man, head tilted in a pose only slightly less confused than the other speaker. "What's happened?" He shrugged with a little grimace. "Iunno. I just like to see things as they are, now that I can- Not feel, nah. Just... Be aware of the space that falls into my locus of perception, now that I don't have to watch the world from inside a braincase anymore. The sensation of everythingness." The viscerality of matter, he continued, in his head, but Shadrach had already trailed away from making a point and he knew it. It didn't matter much, though. He shot another backwards glance at the pale-haired teenager. The weapon he held was no less a proclamation of anger for the fact that he was facing away from Shadrach.

"Shit, I should've been looking," he muttered, still watching the sword. And why hadn't he been? With a touch of frustration at not having thought of it before, Shadrach opened his other eyes, the ones he'd not yet grown but never intended to close again. They scattered irregularly around his neck, his palms, the temples of his skull; They opened along his arms in long, thin slits, hinting at an eye much larger than could possibly fit in a human body. They stared. They felt comfortable. Perhaps he could have improved his visual awareness less conspicuously, but this did not occur to him.

The eyes helped delocalise his awareness from everything directly in front of his face, and the first thing that struck Shadrach was motion, off to one side. With all the ineptitude of a man who had never loved ballsports, he raised his arm to snatch the object upon landing, and with all the wasted power of an amateur god, his arm burst into fleshy red tendrils that caught the object like a net and dragged it near. Shadrach made a small 'mmph' sound when he realised it was just another soulless body, and his hand wrapped itself back up, rather deformed but still mostly human. Someone like him had thrown it before they left, leaving an untidy hole in a nearby building.

"Yeah, I think I'm out too," shrugged the young man, pulling the bones from the cadaver with a thought. He clattered them gently towards the tense guy with the sword to get his attention at a safe distance. "I'm off to find somewhere quiet. Come with, if you wanna chill down. And my name was Shadrach, if you want to know." Shadrach twisted gravity relative to himself and walked up the nearest office block in a blur of liquefied deity.

He wanted to see the stars come out.

@darkwolf687

[Assistant]
Bones clattered around him. Whose bones? Actually, why were there bones anyway? Josh turned, swinging the sword backwards and over his shoulder, only to let it rest there.
"Shadrach, ay? Names Josh." he said, taking the blade and poking the nearest corpse with it. Then, before answering his question, he took the blade and swung it down on the bodies head, severing it from the torso. As it rolled away, it slowly turned to dust; just like the others.
"Well that was boring as hell. Christ, I was at least hoping for SOMETHING to happen then just the head disolving. Ah fuck it." he said, turning around and throwing the sword in front of Sadrach. He clicked his fingers and produced a small flame, only to do it once more and create a massive, blue flame in his hand. A little light. A fun light. A light to burn everything. He then took the flame and turned it into a small crystal ball. With the ball in hand he walked to Sadrach, giving a slight nod as he went.
"Yeah sure, I'll come with you." he said, tossing the glass behind him and slightly enjoying the sound of the flames licking and crackling; burning everything. Fun times. I wonder what I should do... he thought, spinning on an axis to take everything in. Picking the dice up, he rolled it. Numberless, again. In his hands another ball emerged, filled with strange purple energy. Throwing it to the ground, it spread outwards and around his legs, creating a type of purple boots. Jumping upwards, he went higher than he should have and underneath him a purple platform appeared, only to disappear when he next jumped. With this he followed the liquid Sadrach, rolling the dice as he went. When it landed on 1, he got a slight frown on his face as the blue flames beneath him spread outwards and encroached on the ambulance and civilians. Ah well, it wasn't his problem. Well, maybe it was. But that didn't matter as he created another blue crystal and threw it down to where the bus once was; igniting it and destroying what was left. I wonder if it'll be a clear sky tonight... he thought, jumping after the liquid God.

[User]
The strange boy watched as the two individuals flew off into the direction ahead. While they disappeared, the one with the strange dice sent a ravaging fire of blue flames and destruction to the ground beneath. The bus was incinerated, sending shrapnel of all kinds across the area. A lot of this shrapnel flew directly into remaining civilians, both injuring and killing a few. The blue flames emerging began to lick at the trees ahead. The lone man tilted his head at this, furrowing his eyebrows in a devilish pattern. What did this retreating person think would come out of the sudden immersion of blue flames? Life? He sighed and clicked his tongue three times in disagreement. With a whisk of his thin fingers, the young man pulled the blue flames from the area towards the middle of the road. With his other hand, he pulled the grass and branches of forest near him out into view. These two contrasting elements began spinning against one another in a tornado of earth and flames.

"Yes, perfect. Beautiful. Captivating!" The man shouted as the tornado split in two, forming a blue rage of air and a whip of earthy foliage. These two constructs began to scream and shriek as the air spun faster and faster. Beneath the swirling wind, feet began to appear. Two pairs; one made of cerulean fire and the other made of roots and greenery. These figures grew taller and taller, forming legs and chests and arms and even a head. Sprouts of flowers and leaves grew from the back of the earth formation, while the fire formation licked at the sky with sapphire light. The two figures roared at each other as if they were destined enemies. This made their creator grin from ear to ear. This is exactly what he wanted.

"I want a fair fight. Fire, no enveloping earth like you were doing before. That's seriously not cool. Let's see what earth can do when it's given pure power too." He spoke in a very curious manner while a large chair made of furry moss and oak formed behind him. He sat down, rocketing into the air as the roots of the seat lifted him up to get a better view of the battle that was about to be performed. A mushroom, green and oozing a purple secretion, sprouted from the armrest of the plant-like seat the powerful boy sat on. He plucked it off and swallowed it whole; his eyes then spinning in a wave of circles and violent colors as he chortled. Suddenly, the two beings clashed into each other. This force sent a wave of energy across the land around them, blowing the leaves off of trees and the beanie off of the young man's head. He laughed wickedly and clapped, as if this was one helluva' show.

"Again! Harder! Kill! Kill! Kill!" He screeched from his seat. He was making quite the unusual ruckus. The earth construct grabbed a tree and pulled it from its roots with ease. It then sent it flying towards the fire construct with a quickening speed. This was going to be extremely hectic, as the fire construct was already getting ready to send about four to five fireballs towards its opponent.


[System]
Theme:
Just One Yesterday by Fall Out Boy

Gender:
Female

Species:
Lessereurm

Appearance:
Green with blue mixed in.
She looked like a fantasy version of a skink lizard, her head being more bony with scaly outcrops along her snout and over the ridges on her eyes. Though she had no back legs, her front limbs had become somewhat longer and stronger. While she didn't have true thumbs, her claws had been reduced to three digits, two of which were longer and the third of which was shorter, thicker, and set at an angle to the others. It was a bit like a human's hand making a constant "Spock-hand" by holding the index-middle and pinky-ring fingers in pairs and curling the thumb. The joints of these "fingers" and the natural curl of her claws gave her a stronger grip that she could feel even as she began to pull herself along the ground--she would be able to pull, or to scoop and dig, quite fast if she felt so inclined. She was roughly twice as long as her previous form, though not so heavy-set throughout her body. As her tail instinctively lashed behind her, she would likely feel confident that she could easily contort herself in a variety of shapes.

Goals:
Rain has only a few major goals:
-Follow any instructions from the mysterious Demon King
-Make the most of this second chance, no matter the cost
-Become the King's favorite, at any cost (selfish reasons, really)

Past Life:
There were few things more important to Rain in her short life than secrecy, alertness, and speed. She was not stronger than most, she was not at healthy as most, but with those three key factors helped to keep her alive and ahead in the dirty streets of an unnamed slum deep in the heart of Detroit.

Born to teen parents who didn't want her, it was a life of hardship from the start. She looked to her parents and was left wanting, before being abandoned at the age of six. She was a street urchin with a lack of trust and a thirst for better.

She scraped by, year after year, by honing these skills and not being afraid to be ruthless with the other filth left in the gutter, the gangs and the deranged.

Her life, however, was cut short by someone just a bit smarter and faster than she was, who happened to slip a knife between her ribs at the age of 16.

Given a second chance, she's going to do it right this time.

Transformations:
Fanged Lizard -- Lesserwurm

Inventory:

[User]
Miiba seemed slightly relieved at first that Reuban's idea may have some merit to it, though it was quickly dashed by Geir and his short lived fit. Though Miiba didn't take being called an abomination or demonspawn, even if she didn't quite know big words like that, they didn't sound very nice. What happened after though caught Miiba by surprise. Se wast quite able to grasp what Geir was talking about, but she did see the odd marks on his head, and tune in to his emotion as she stood there blankly watching him for a moment before he left, with Lear coming in about at the same time.

 Miiba's happy countenance seemed to return to her as she helped with the firewood, taking it to the fireplace. Miiba looked to Gwyn as she passed with a proud smile, "Miiba chop these by herself! Mr. Lear carry though...," she simply stated as she set the wood she held in the fireplace. However, as she turned from the fireplace, a faint blue glow caught her eye. She climbed up to the window sill to get a better look and sat down to stare at it a moment. It seemed to be slightly headed toward Geir, and she could hear a muffled voice that didn't belong to the red headed young man. "Mr. Lear," she started with the same inquisitive tone she used whenever she was about to ask something, "What big blue glow ball with Geir?" she asked with her finger pressed against the window pointing to Danny, but looking back to Lear.

[Assistant]
Ardur The Mighty Hipixie  Once More unto the breach >>> Home sweet home? /// Adventuring day 5 // Late Afternoon >> Evening / Location - Cave Entrance

"Well that wasn't what I hoped it would be but at least I know there's a difference between purified and cleansed. Maybe that knight can tell me more about that one." "One more question how do you purify something. I'll ask again when we get back." he seemed a bit rushed with the rest of the party beginning to enter the cave now.

Asura's comment about transformations to the knight and the man's shock at hearing this made him think again. He thought about speaking up for a moment and adding his opinion. As he saw, it the worst that could happen was they would be hunted but even then it would just be more experience right? These two did not seem like the kind to just try to attack or capture them at random.

"Yeah I did too, started as a pixie, chose high pixie because it was more robust and I could keep the wings. None of the other choices really stood out to me." Ardur paused for a moment again thinking of how he should continue as the others began to go inside. "I asked you about the age thing because we have only been here for what? Like three weeks maybe?" he was not asking a question it was just how he worded his sentence.

The high pixie didn't wait for a reply and took his place in the party line up as instructed. Steve looked a little tense but so was he. This cave felt off now, without the light from the holes in the ceiling and the mana crystals, it was dark and gloomy. The ambiance of the place put him on edge. It was entirely too quiet, too stale, like nothing breathed or moved without being coaxed. "Stick to the plan Steve and we will be fine." He whispered while stroking his friend a few times to calm her down.

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕆𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕝𝕕𝕝𝕪 ℂ𝕒𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕟
YOU HAVE ENTERED A HOSTILE DUNGEON.

Well at least that part was still familiar. For whatever reason he remembered someone or something calling it that. Maybe with this they might even be able to secure this place later as a foothold or stronghold. At the very least Ardur did intend to return here at some point to see it again.

"I think the old goblin bonfire was in this direction but it's hard to tell with how dark it is in here now." He whispered. His navigating interrupted by a couple small flashes and a system message indicating an encounter. Quickly he attempted to use Monster Analysis I on the two wisps and the rat before thinking of an attack.

"Steve go for the wisp on the right." He commanded while he readied himself with the betel mandible in hand for the other one coming at them. He figured Asura could handle the rat for now and could only wonder as to what the boy would do. this would also seem to be a good test as to what their little formation could do.

Level: 7
Steve Level: 4

Health: 100%
Mana: 80%
Stamina: 95%

Buffs:

Debuffs:

Inventory: bow horn venison x15 lbs.
+Cooked bow horn venison 5 Lbs.
+Rubber Frog skin Backpack - This item is more elastic than it looks. Can hold 15 Small Items. The number of items held may be affected by larger items that take up more space. It is more durable than most raw materials due to its rubbery composition, but without proper care it may degrade over time.

Clothes:
+Beetle Bracer - This item for your Arm makes you feel slightly tougher.
+Bone Breastplate - This item for your Torso makes you feel slightly tougher.
+Grass Skirt - This item is fragile and flammable, but serves as decent clothing.

Weapons: N/A
+Sharp Stone
+Beetle Mandible - Rather hard and sharp on its own, it might be sturdy enough to refine.

Current Party: Asura, Mother Slime, Steve, and himself.

Magic/Skills: Shield II, Lesser Flight III, Minor Heal III, Physical Conditioning I, Fire Resistance I, Taming I, Fireball I, Stronger II, Crafting II, Muffle I, Inspire I, Guidance I, Spell chant I, Use light equipment, Meditation I, Point Strike I, Keen Sight I, Material Analysis I, Monster Analysis I, Alert I, Lesser Cleanse I, Mana Strike I,

Kills for current level:

Other:

[User]
Oberon continued to use Meditation as he listened to Digbie, trying to balance a state of clear mindedness while also thinking about their current situation. It had gotten easier to use the skill as he had become more proficient with it, even being able to use it while moving slowly now, but he wasn't sure how well it would work when his attention was split like this.

"Yeah, okay. I had a feeling that's what you were planning." If the Goblin's fought the goat in the way Digbie intended then they would probably weaken themselves in the process, making themselves an easier target for the four of them. There was even a slight chance that the goat might win and kill them all, but Oberon thought that was unlikely to happen; even if it did it would just mean that the goat was far more dangerous than they had anticipated which might actually make their situation worse.

As it was, the plan likely wouldn't go as smoothly as Digbie hoped; the Goblin's probably wouldn't want to fight the goat fairly for one thing. It was fair more likely they would attempt to cheat somehow and kill the goat while it was still bound, though the presence of a now-confirmed-to-be intelligent Ash might dissuade them from that course a little.

"If it comes down to it I think we could win. Even if they don't kill the goat, it's bound up and they seem as wary of it as we are; they won't release it to fight us… I hope." He was assuming a lot with very little information, but he was fairly certain the goat was not trained and as likely to attack the Goblin's as it was them; probably more likely. In all likelihood Rags would want to keep it out of the fight even more than they did. "It'll be tough, but I think we could handle a fight against all of them. Just let me handle the one with the sword."

Oberon couldn't see very well in the dim light of the sealed cave, but he heard Digbie say something that clearly wasn't aimed at him. It sounded a prayer of sorts, a short request for safety and protection, to someone called Jehanne. "We didn't get a chance to talk earlier, but who's Jehanne? Does this have something to do with that stuff you found earlier? The book?"

Continuing to use Meditation

@Gardevoiran

[Assistant]
~Temporary Campsite~
Throat Pouch:
- x6 Nothing
Rawhide Backpack
- x5 Nothing
Equipped:
Mana Bone Spear (Average)
1 Smooth Stone

---

These small minded animals. That's what these things were. Barely even sentient or intelligent. Ash could almost feel her patient wearing thin with these small minded, single brain celled fuckbrains. Easy to scare at least, and the idiots thought they were being clever, too. She physically restrained herself from simply lobbing a poison ball at Rags and seeing what it'd do at his words. She had to play calm here, even if she was getting more agitated.

"You already know what I am, goblin." Ash replied coolly, glaring at the creature. "Though considering your less than impressive intelligence I am not surprised." The Pygmy Drake flapped her wings, flying to one of the trees nearest the top of the hill so she could keep an eye on them. "You may simply call me a little demon of...ash. The demigoblin has bound me to his service, and I merely take this form for convenience." She chuckled. Well, that was a little bit of silliness on her part, but if they already thought demons were present, then she might as well leverage it.

"What the great Digbie desires, is for you to prove your strength." Ash replied coolly "Killing the creature while it's bound, only makes you look weak. Like a coward. A pathetic little child that hides in its mothers embrace." Ash smirked, trying to influence him as best as she could with her charisma skill, be it intimidation or otherwise. "...you're not a coward, are you Rags?"

[User]
Torrent watched on, pleased, as her trick seemed to have worked....mostly. There was one goblin who seemed just a little more capable of observing their surroundings. While she would love to respond to Rags, she really wasn't happy about how close to her hiding area that goblin was looking despite her stealth abilities. Did it have some way of detecting her or something? She hadn't seen anything about it in her analysis, but perhaps they were just too low level of skills for her to get an accurate read on the goblin.

Or perhaps it was just that paranoid. Growing up surrounded by killers waiting for a moment to stab you in the back to move ahead. Again she was reminded of how similar to the street gangs these creatures were.

It made her want to just rip out their throats, but she needed to wait and do this smart. Think it through.

If she replied to Rags she risked being found, thanks to that dirty goblin. If she moved she risked exposure, again thanks to that dirty goblin. If only she could open up a Void in its skull from here. That would teach it to be so utterly annoying.

But...if she didn't reply maybe Rags would take offense to it or otherwise see through the charade. Maybe she just needed to inflict a little terror into them.

Torrent thought for a moment before she came up with the best plan she had for the situation.

This would be her first ability that she would try in the field without any prep, not unlike her explosion spell all things considered, but this would also be something different from what she was used to. She needed to be creative with it, smart, and with any luck it would be enough to stop that Goblin from looking for her and put Rags in his stupid place.

She could feel the air around her, with some effort, in a reminder of how she had used it to begin her air breath attack. With a bit of relief she listened as Ash played up what she had already started when she had spoken up last time. Maybe with that the Goblins would be taken off guard enough to not find her?

She still needed to try to add to it though.

Putting her power into the air around her, she pushed her voice into the air. Wasn't sound supposed to be carried through air or something? She felt like she'd heard someone say that once before. And she supposed it made sense. Maybe Ash would know.

She pushed the air with her words, hoping to throw it and help make sure that she could remain undetected.

"Prove your worth of our power. Prove yourself or be a coward," she said, her body tensing in case she needed to disappear, keeping her attention on the goblins and the goat. She wouldn't be taken by surprise if she had anything to do about it.


[System]
Appearance: Valian is the shape of your average human male, barring his below average height. His hair is dark, and his complexion fair—but you are far less likely to notice any of this than you are his eyes, which are blue. That is to say, that he lacks sclera and his eyes are a solid, pale blue all throughout, barring his pupils—the lack of sclera marking them as prosthetics. If you catch him at a time when he isn't wearing his flight suit—a dark blue affair with a silver-colored alloy covering the seams at his neck, shoulders, and waist, and a helmet made of the same alloy—you'll doubtless notice that his right hand is mechanical. His sense of dress is ostentatious, consisting of a mix of purples and blues, including a dark blue waist-length mantle that he is rarely seen without. Occasionally, you'll catch a glimpse of his grey prosthetic legs at his ankles, as legwear meets footwear.

Race: Human-Cyborg

Gender: Male

Age: 34

Background: Valian had a normal childhood, as they go. His family was of modest means, but made more than well enough to get by. He was born in a settlement on the moon of a gas giant just as it was starting to really expand. His father was a contracted pilot, flying people and cargo that, while not important enough to be afforded their own personal shuttle, still needed to get around. Valian was well-educated growing up, and very sociable. Time passed, and eventually Valian grew to adulthood. Since he had spent all of his young life around pilots—his father and his father's cohorts, some of whom were fighter pilots—and spacecraft, he had more experience with them than most non-professionals. As such, it was only natural that he took up a job as a career pilot. Specifically, he signed on with the Starfire Company.

His father had run some more illicit flights, so Starfire's less "moral" jobs were not an issue for him. Over time, this brought him into personal conflict, and he developed what skills he has in combat by necessity. His skill as a pilot led to his continued survival, and no insignificant renown within the company. He stuck by the company even when the odd offer came to turn over to the side of a competitor, seeing it as good business to stick with his path. He didn't know how right he was.

When Valian was in his late twenties, an act of sabotage in a Starfire hangar severely damaged Valian's ship and grievously wounded him—costing him his right arm, his legs, and both of his eyes. Valian was not irreplaceable, but he had a few friends on the station's medical staff, so they began operation. He was outfitted with cybernetic replacements for what he had lost. While there were a few people at the corporate side of Starfire that threw a hissy-fit, he was seen as a beneficial enough asset to be worth the cost. His ship was ultimately unsalvageable, but he was able to pick up the tab on a new one without taking too big of a loan (which has since been paid off). He wouldn't be alive without the cybernetic work, and he remains staunchly loyal to Starfire because of it—now out of a sense of obligation rather then business sense.

Personality: If there's one thing that Valian has leaned in his time in this galaxy, it's that there is nobody more important than whoever has your back. He is loyal to a fault, and will stand by his comrades no matter what. That said, he is rather jaded. While it didn't have a specific inciting incident, he has lost the belief that there is such a thing as a "good cause." As he would put it, "While there are people who support a cause out of selflessness or idealism, there are just as many—if not more—who would persue it for their own selfish gain. There is no such thing as a virtuous cause; a cause is only as good as those who pursue it, and any cause will have plenty of pursuers in it for themselves and in it for the cause's sake." This, in turn, has made him apathetic towards the conflict between the Xenovian Empire and the Revolutionary Front. In truth, he sees the whole war as rather morbidly comical, due in no small part to his tendency to find the humor in most things.

Gear:
* One High-Powered Energy Rifle, capable of the sustained firing of multiple blasts, and continuous fire for short periods of time. (Model: Class-8 Jovian Powered Beam Rifle, manufactured by the Jovus Industries Arms Manufacturing Corporation)
* One Cybernetic Arm, capable of more precise movement than organic arms, though of somewhat lesser strength; Right side. Linked Directly into his nervous system, operated without computing technology. (Model: Class-12 Neural-Motive Prosthetic Arm, manufactured by the NMS Corporation)
* Two Cybernetic Legs, capable of more precise movement than organic legs, though of somewhat lesser strength. Linked Directly into his nervous system, operated without computing technology. (Model: Class-9 Neural-Motive Prosthetic Legs, manufactured by the NMS Corporation)
* Two Cybernetic Eyes, capable of seeing over longer distance in sharper detail and overlaying information in his vision, as in a typical HUD. Linked Directly into his nervous system, operated without computing technology. (Model: Class-23 Neural-Sensory Prosthetic Eyes, manufactured by the NMS Corporation)
* A Flight Suit, capable of protecting against radiation exposure and planet-reentry/launch forces when in ships which are ill-equipped to handle such forces on their own. Also capable of defending against individual blasts from most energy weapons—but all but useless against sustained/continuous energy fire, and completely useless against ballistic arms and other non-energy forms of weaponry. (Model: V-Type Kalstein Flight Suit (Blue-Silver), manufactured by the Kalstein-Rothera Corporation)

While not possessing the hold size of most other cargo ships, the Agile Variant of the MK-III Stellas Cargo Ship's lower mass and higher number of Rotation Control System (RCS) Thrusters give it a maneuverability and agility unmatched amongst its ilk. While it came with a pair of low-caliber ballistic repeating guns, Valian replaced them with High Energy Sustained Beam Generators—capable of producing a continuous beam indefinitely so long as the ship is powered—and added a medium caliber ballistic repeating gun just under the nose. Additionally, the ship came with standard shielding technology, which Valian has upgraded.

[User]
Johanna gritted her teeth, she knew something like this had been bound to happen. She checked her rifle once again to make sure it was good and ready. The Babylon shook as the anchor's impaled it's hull. They were gonna have a hell of a fight on their hands shortly, if the size of that pirate ship said anything, it was that there was a lot of pirates heading their way.

"Hey big guy, you ready?" She called out to Krull, might have seemed like a pretty stupid question, but maybe seeing just how ready the big guy was would psyche up the rest of them. Gods know they needed it.

[Assistant]
<You as well, John Mason.>

Take off went without a hitch and Deraen settled in to wait out the journey. They weren't even out the system yet, passing below an asteroid belt, when the pirates appeared. Their attack was sudden and the Alamo had very little time to react thanks to the asteroids interfering with the ship's sensors. The ship trembled with each anchor lock-in. The Andalite remained at his post, waiting.

Deraen reached into one of his pouches, pulling out a piece of equipment and fastening it over the slitted nostrils that made up his nose. It was a gas mask of sorts. As predicted, it wasn't long before the pirates located the bridge and made it their target. A swarm of them appeared at the end of the corridor and Deraen sidestepped behind a bulkhead as they began shooting. When they were halfway there he tossed two canisters in their path, which rolled across the floor for a few seconds before spitting out a toxic red vapor. Caught off-guard and temporarily disoriented by the smoke screen, the pirates faltered. They gagged on the air and some of them pulled their own gas masks on, but the disruption was a large enough window of opportunity for Deraen to step into their line of site and mow them down with an automatic weapon. A human-made gun called a P90, as he understood, that propelled small projectiles called bullets at such a speed that they tore through flesh and bone alike. It was heavy, but the shoulder-strap helped him to hold it steady while two slender fingers activated the trigger.

The pirates screamed and fell bleeding on the deck. Deraen noticed they were all humans, but it wasn't unusual for pirates to go marauding in groups composed exclusively of their own kind. As he stepped over the bodies one of them rose up behind him, and must have assumed that since Deraen was facing forward that he could sneak up on him. Of course, it's impossible to sneak up on an Andalite since their stalk eyes allow them to see in all directions at once. Without so much as pausing mid-stride Deraen whipped his tail back and stabbed the pirate through the chest before he could think to fire off a shot.

<Be advised: air contamination in Sector 2.> He broadcast his thought-speech for his crewmates, if any of them came to help him they would know what to expect. Deraen put another canister in hand and continued down the corridor. Another wave came at him shortly and he gassed them like the first group, slaughtering them at his leisure. The next wave was ready for him however, almost all of them wearing their own masks and all of them firing at once. He ducked into an adjoining passageway, pulled the pin on a plasma grenade, and threw it around the corner, counting each second until detonation. Before the explosion had cleared he was out again to finish off any survivors.

[User] Jay's had drifted his ship into a patrol pattern around The Alamo for the more peaceful part of the trip, when the large pirate ship appeared, anchored both the Babylon and the Alamo, deployed upwards of ninety fighters, and sent over a massive boarding party he just sighed and murmured "of course" and turned his ship to head behind the Alamo to avoid the fighters. He powered the shields on his fighters ram and as he maneuvered behind the Alamo and came around he ignited the afterburners and rammed strait through at least seven of the anchors connecting to the Alamo, making sure he kept closer to the Alamo using it's guns for cover from the fighters. Several of the pirate's fighter were tailing him as he came back around toward the cruiser aiming to take cover in the range of the Alamo's guns again.

[Assistant]
On boarding the Alamo, Valian went to his ship to make sure everything was in top shape. Checking the controls, engine, weapons systems, shield, and other myriad of finicky bits that go into making a ship operational. Normally the sort of thing you want done before you're put in a situation where you might need to take off at any moment, but Valian saw himself first, not as a contracted employee of Starfire, but as a pilot. It was a matter of pride to him that he would notice if something was wrong with his ship. The only reason he was checking was because he'd learned the hard way that it's best to be careful.

Much to his surprise, Valian had finished checking his systems before anything happened. It stayed that way, until the one of the ships' pilots decided to pass by a large asteroid. How large? After practically leaping into his ship's cockpit, Valian pulled up some pictures from the Alamo's outer camera feed, and saw one large enough to hide a ship bigger than the the Alamo or the Babylon. Alright, what's the deal here? Even if we were trying to avoid standard flight paths, what idiot chose to pass so close to an asteroid that big? There's so much empty space out here... That train of thought died as soon as he saw the ship that was hiding behind it. When he did, he couldn't help but break into hysterical laughter. "That is the silliest fucking thing I've ever seen!" His mic was off, so his team-mates wouldn't have heard his outburst unless they were passing through the hangar at the time—he wasn't that loud.

His laughter ceased as soon as he heard the anchors hit. The fact that the pirates, idiotically silly carrier ship aside, hit him like a freight train. His grin did not leave his face, but it turned from one of mirth into one of malice. "Alright. So, ninety ships? Could be worse. Wonder how many of them will be dead before this is through." Wasting no more time, Valian brought his ship out of the Alamo's hangar. Since the pirates were still a good distance away from him, he whipped his ship around with his many RCS thrusters to take aim at one of the anchors on the Alamo with his energy beams. He didn't get the chance to see if he hit his mark though—the pirates had arrived, specifically a group of three.

Damn, they're faster than I thought. While he may have tried to get in an attack of opportunity on the anchors, John was right—they wouldn't be letting him cut those anchors. He dodged around the enemy fire, and took shots of his own at his assailants, the flash of his ballistic gun visible just under the Starbolt's nose. One pirate took a hit in the cockpit—taking the pilot out and sending the ship spiraling out into the void—and another in the wing, rendering it largely inoperable. Prioritizing speed over shields? Interesting. Might even be a pattern. Sure would make my job easier.

Valian glanced down at the anchor he'd shot at, and it was severed, the pirates already in transit tumbling out into the void. He looked towards the pirate carrier, only to see more ships heading his way. Well, let's see what this fleet of eighty-eight's got any more surprises for me.


[System]
Epic Identity: Finch

Age: 26

Faction: Epic Villain

Ability: Drake has the ability to manipulate glass at a touch. He can't make it spring into existence from nothing but he can make it change shape and composition to some extent, giving him considerable versatility

Weakness: Sufficient loud noise/vibrations can knock out his ability to manipulate glass. That and the stuff that usually knocks your standard Epic unconscious. Approaching that vibration threshold can cause him to lose control to some extent, though not completely.

Personality: Drake is as you might expect. When the mask is on he is confident to the point of being cocky, with a slight penchant for the dramatic and putting on a show. Needless to say he loves making an entrance, or an exit, He also likes taking valuable things, or at least making the Epics work to stop him from taking those things so they have to earn a days pay.

Outside of public appearances he is more...hostile, jealous to some extent of him being the villain rather than the Robin Hood-esque hero. And yet he can't stop himself either, not with the allure that comes with it and the possibility of the big score. He just can't sit back and let himself relax for long, not with the hope that one day he will succeed in a big way, and leave the entire city shocked at his success.

Appearance: Drake usually wears casual clothes such as polo shirts and jeans, nothing too flashy that would make him stand out, while not looking like a total slob. He has close cropped brown hair and a light tan to go with it, and an above average muscle build from the work that he does. His costume is a bit more on the practical side, with a leather trenchcoat, a fedora, fingerless gloves, the obligatory mask, and specialized pants and shoes. Stylish yet practical, just what a villain should have.

Background: His beginning was unremarkable, with his childhood fairly obscure by city standards. Was one of several siblings, had a mediocre education, with nothing outstanding about him.It was only when his powers developed that things changed. But by that time he had separated from his family, striking out on his own to earn his own path. In doing so he had fallen in with the wrong crowd, and that maintained itself even after he had gained his powers.

Inevitably he came into conflict with the Epics that ran and oversaw the city, with a rough contact. Drake's powers seemed to have aspired him to rise higher, and he grudgingly accepted a role as the 'fall guy' to enforce the rule of the city. Which is the general status quo that he has settled into now. His efforts allowed him to obtain his own crew and network of individuals, while he gets to steal things and is occasionally stopped so the government can look good, or something like that. He lives with it for now, but someday that will change. He's sure of it.

[User]
"And it's over!" Idonia shouted, as the camera filmed the Rat King's demise. "After that massive strike from Vice, leaving the monster hurt, the combination of Traveler's portal and Stark Crusader's strength and toughness destroyed the beast." The camera switched back to her, leaning back in her chair with her white-blond hair almost but not quite obscuring her Greek-goddess looks. "That's it for this battle, our Epics triumphant once again! Remember to stay tuned for an after-action analysis with Gecko and Jason, and our update of the ENTV Epic Points Table for this year. Tomorrow, ENTV's Annabelle and Jason host an exclusive interview with the Teleporting Trickster, Traveler, tomorrow on our Spotlight interviews, exclusively on ENTV.com!" She did some movement that drew the eye down into her blouse without actually changing position, somehow highlighting the fact that one or more buttons had come undone during the stream. "Until the next Field Day, this is Idonia!"

---

Spectrum's legs folded, and the emotional and physical exhaustion left the armoured hero lying face-up on the street as the ECPD moved in for clean up. A few medics stopped nearby, only to be waved away. Stark Crusader had been the one to finally take the Rat King down, after Traveler'd finally figured the monster out. She was smart like that, and Spectrum was happy to count her a friend. It helped Spectrum to get used to the city, having a friend like Alex. And maybe a boyfriend like Dragon, the thought made a smile appear behind the helmet.

After a minute or two of getting breath back, Spectrum sat up and looked around for Traveler or Dragon Heart. The latter knelt next to Spectrum, asking. "Need some help?"

"You could take me to bed," Spectrum replied without thinking. When what was actually said sank in, Spectrum blushed a bright red and the suit went white brightly enough to make Dragon Heart shade his eyes. "Sorry, not like that."

He laughed, helping Spectrum to her feet. "Don't worry about it," he said, and Spectrum felt a rush of relief. "I might do it anyway, but date first. Friday, seven o'clock at Hero's Bistro. Don't forget." He leaned over and kissed near the cheek. Despite the armour, it felt to Spectrum like he'd left a mark there just with that touch. A hand put over the spot, to protect it, Spectrum flared bright blue, and shot six stories up into the air just on sheer joy.

[Assistant]
After a long day of fighting crime and dealing with people, Comet decided that the best course of action for now was to stop being Comet and go back to being Edward. He arrived at home still in uniform, stripped down and climbed into bed, lounging for what felt like hours before finally falling asleep.

Edward!

Edward shot awake, the room was dark and suddenly smelled of burning plastic. He frowned in confusion, sitting on the side of his bed and yawning. He furrowed his brow and scanned. It wasn't the same room he had fallen asleep in, it was near-black, but a light orange light creeped in from under the door. He looked down at his hands, still covered in burn scars, so that hadn't changed. He stood up and immediately collapsed on the ground, his legs in incredible burning pain. It was like every wound he had ever taken had opened at once.

He growled and pulled at the ground, his entire body in searing pain. He kept going, pulling at the ground, but he never got any closer to the door, the light only getting stronger and blasting at his eyes. He wasn't moving, he was stuck, and he had never felt this feeling before, all throughout his life he had never felt stuck, he could always move fast enough to escape before, but not now, now he felt like he had been crippled.

Like he was broken.

His ears began to ring in his ears, louder and louder until it hurt, he could always run faster than sound before, was this some sort of ironic hell?

The room was fully lit up now, a diploma on the wall, flowery wallpaper, a perfectly made bed and a pair of bunny slippers on the ground.

He knew this room, this room meant something to him, back in Wales, he had been in this room more times than he could remember, this was James' room.

Edward!

He recognized James' voice now, he was terrified, his voice breaking in terror. From the other side of the door he heard thumping feet and screaming from the other room. The door crashed open, and the light blinded Edward as two figures burst in, one holding a knife. They fought, poorly, like they had both already been hurt. The man with a knife finally stabbed the other man, who fell to his knees. The man with a knife slit the kneeling man's throat in an instant. The man's blood splattered on the walls, on the floor, everywhere, and in a way oh so familiar to Edward.

The man fell, and Edward saw his face. James spoke despite his ravaged throat.

I'm sorry, Eddie.

---

Edward shot out of bed, holding his head in his hands and sweating. He took a few deep breaths and stared at the floor, he'd had this dream before, the dream that was more than a dream, it was truth. He hadn't seen it, but this was how James died, murdered in his room by that same bastard who Edward once thought was his friend.

But that was over now, he had to get over it, there wasn't anything he could have done. His first love was gone, but he still had a life of his own to live.

"Edward?" A female voice from the living room yelled out for him, obviously he had made a little bit of noise. He threw on a pair of jeans and a tank top in around two seconds and then appeared in the middle of the apartment.

"God, wait a few seconds before you yell at me," he responded to the red-haired woman. She chuckled and gestured to a seat opposite her, a meal already prepared. Maria was still in her pajamas, a long t-shirt over her underwear. He didn't mind, hell, she could walk around naked for all he cared, he paid the rent, she provided him with company, something that was hard to get when you were a giant asshole who got off on other people's suffering.

"Good morning, how was your day yesterday?" She asked, ignoring his snarky comment.

"Fantastic, I punched a giant rat in the face," he responded before beginning to eat at least fifteen spoonfuls a second.

"I saw, I thought you missed and the other guy did it." He snorted in response.

"Your brother got anything going on?" he asked hopefully, her brother was really cute.

"He's not gay, Edward, even if he was he wouldn't go for you," she said, insulting him playfully.

"Yeah, yeah, don't you have a whole football team to be having sex with?" he said as he stood up and tossed the bowl in the sink.

"Ha ha..." she laughed sarcastically. Suddenly she stopped talking and gave a sad, contemplative look. Edward tilted his head and gave her a confused glare.

"What?"

"Oh, it's nothing," she lied, poorly. Edward sat back down and looked at her.

"No it's not, tell me," he almost begged. "I am your only friend, right?"

She laughed again, but it felt fake this time.

"No... I know you had that dream again, I heard you talking in your sleep."

Embarrassing, but whatever, at least it wasn't last night's dream, now that would have been mortifying.

Edward frowned and looked closer. Maria attempted to evade his eyes and look out the window.

"I heard rumors... about your friend from Wales,"

Edward immediately knew what she was talking about.

"The one from my dream?" he attempted to clarify, and she gave him a nod in confirmation. His stomach dropped and he felt angrier than he had felt in the last few years. "What about him?" His voice dropped an octave and he almost growled. Maria dropped her head in response.

"I heard he's in Epic City."

Emotions welled up through Edward's entire body, his hands shook on the table. He sniffed and stood slowly. His mind was filled with rage-fueled thoughts of revenge.

"I'm leaving."

"Wait, Edward wai-" Edward threw on a jacket and left the room.

He ended up on top of the building, sitting and staring out over the city. He was calming slowly, though his hands still shook with both shock and anger.

I'll find him, I have to find him.

[User]
Normally, this was the point in time where Finch would relax a bit, pat himself on the back, and plan out what he wanted to do next. Once they had merged into traffic there was no way that the police were going to catch up with them, especially not with the Swarm attack currently ongoing elsewhere. Understandable that would probably draw away a lot of their attention, and they didn't have the forces needed to set up a couple roadblocks to stop him. So what was there to worry about?

The loud 'thud' on the roof gave him an answer, one that was unexpected and more than a bit annoying. While it might have just been a bird or something, in this city he doubted that very much. He was the bird here, and the other 'birds' that might show up tended to be able to flip cars like the one he was in. So this was probably a bad thing.

"Relax, I've got this," he told the men as he got out of his seat and moved towards the center of the car. The last thing he needed was a million bullet holes in the roof that wouldn't actually do anything. This thing wasn't cheap to repair after all, so if he could spare unnecessary damage then he didn't mind doing work himself.

Instead he went to a bag, opening it up to reveal some more glass items, such as old souvenir shop gifts, broken snowglobes, that sort of thing. Taking what he had on him, he touched the glass and let his powers get to work. It all shifted and molded together, leaving him with a very fine and very sharp rapier, one that could even pierce metal if he didn't stress it too much. "Alright, let's see how well this other bird dances," he muttered as he shoved the blade upwards and through the roof, roughly at the area where their interloper had landed. He'd come this far, and he was certainly not going to get caught now.


[System]
Age:25
Gender:Male
Personality: Barry is an awkward and shy person. He usually keeps to himself, and he doesn't do well with a lot of people, especially girls. He is a very nerdy guy. And he talks a lot. He likes to help people in the best way he can, even before he had his powers. He doesn't want anyone to be hurt like his mother ever again if he can help it. He also is very generous, he'd take a beating to from thugs to help someone get away, or chase a thief. He's in love with Iris West, and would do anything for her, and Joe West is like his father to him. He'd do anything for his loved ones in general.
History:Barry was raised by Henry and Nora Allen, he had a normal life, and he was into science. He was bullied a lot at school, because he's smart. At age 11, one day the Reverse Flash came and killed his mother, and his father was framed for it. He tried to tell people about the man in yellow killed his mother, but everyone thought he was only trying to protect his dad, or he was in denial. Joe West, father of Iris West and uncle of Wally West took Barry in, and raised him. Barry grew up to be a CSI at CCPD, he dealed with autopsies. He was pretty good at his job. He met a cool guy named Ralph Dibny one day, and they became good friends, Barry even became the best man at Ralph's wedding. Life was getting better for Barry. Then one day, he was struck by lightning from the S.T.A.R. Labs portal accident that killed thousands, He was in a coma for one year, and one day he woke up in S.T.A.R. Labs next to three people, Felicity Smoak, Cisco Ramon, and Eobard Thawne. They found out he had rapid cell regeneration, and super speed. A few days later, he decided to become the guardian of Central City, the Flash./center]
Appearance:Barry has brown hair and blue eyes. He dresses up loosely. He usually wears something like a long plaid shirt with a sweater over it. Or a jacket with a sweater under it. He has the body of an athlete, because he's running a lot.

[User]
Flash speeded after the thief. He ended up zooming in front of him, "Just give me the purse, and you won't get your ass kicked, that simple." Flash said. Flash looked at the thief, the guy was scrawny, he was pale and had black hair. He seemed like he was sweating. "Oh you don't get it...you're not the only person that has powers!" then the thief blasted Flash back with, air! "WHOOOAAA!!" Flash flew across the alleyway, and hit the dumpster. Did this guy just use the force on him?! Flash backflipped and slammed his fist up the thief's face. The thief stumbled and fell on the ground, the thief then slammed Flash with the wind, he went tumbling. "Son of a...!" the thief ran off, as Flash speeded into him, making him fly foward, knocking him out. He then speeded the thief into the CCPD, hands tied behind his back. The officers only saw a red blur.

Flash speeded out across the city, the feeling of running so fast felt great. The feeling of air going past him, a nice breeze. He passed Jitters, then Mercury Labs. He then made it to S.T.A.R. Labs, he stopped for a second to stare at the building, then zoomed in.

S.T.A.R. Labs

Barry speeded into S.T.A.R. Labs, panting, he pulled his cowl off. "What were you thinking?!" Felicity looked pissed, Barry wasn't sure if he was afraid to die or afraid to be scolded by her. "I had it handled..." Barry said, "That was awesome, dude!" Cisco said, high-fiving Barry. "Congratulations, Mr. Allen, but what if you didn't have it handled." Dr. Thawne said, getting up from his chair in the other room. Felicity gave Barry and Cisco a look. S.T.A.R. Labs used to be filled with scientists, but now after the incident, only these three have been inside the building. The room looked basically like any other lab, white. The place was still shape, the computers were high tech than the ones you see at Best Buy, or places like that. A computer was hooked up to a treadmill, a Cosmic Treadmill, it's basically like training for Barry. "You can't just go in blind like that." Dr. Thawne said, looking at a computer screen on the wall, rubbing his chin. "Look, I have to go to work." Barry said, running in a circle as his scarlet suit disappeared and a sweater, jacket, jeans and black and white sneakers. Classic Barry Allen style. "Barry, before you-" Dr. Thawne started, Barry speeded out of the building, sheets of paper flying everywhere, "Go..." He finished. "He's the most stubborn man alive..." Felicity said, sighing. Cisco laughed.

Central City Police Department

Barry walked into the CCPD, rubbing his arm. Joe was talking to another officer about a man with a gun that could freeze people, Barry walked up to them both. Joe looked at Barry, "Where have you been?" he asked. Barry was thinking of a lie that he could use, something that's Barry-like. "Sorry, I woke up late.." Joe shook his head, smiling, "Barry Allen, the man that's never on time. Come on." Joe walked and Barry followed him. They both got into the car, and drove to a crime scene.

"...I know you like dealing with the impossible, so I thought you'd want to work on this case." Joe said, the corpse was charred, like something electrocuted him to death, the face was unrecognizable. Barry assumed the man was a security guard, because of the half-melted badge. "Do you know what could of have done this?" Joe asked, Barry looked at the body, "Not what, who..Look, you see the burnt o placesn the body around the injuries on the face and chest? This man was electrocuted to death, by someone..", Joe looked at the body, then back up at Barry, "Last time I checked, people couldn't fire electricity out of their hands." Barry looked at Joe, then Joe's face showed that he just figured it out, "Metahumans." Barry gave him a thumbs up, "Bingo." Joe looked at the body again, "I'll get the Metahuman Task Force on the case." he then walked off, Barry crouched to the body to see footprints. The crime scene was in a warehouse, police tape everywhere, and police cars were outside, the warehouse is owned by Mercury Labs, Barry got up and looked at the destroyed door. "The culprit came through the door...and killed the guard...." Barry said, the culprit must've come for something else, not just to kill a guard. Barry then looked at a broken glass case at the end of the room, he walked over to it, Barry thinks he know what the culprit exactly stole, power gloves..

[Assistant]
"Ahhh..."
Wally could feel the smooth wind around him, he observed it very intently. Every wind was like Flash running around the city, somewhere, someway. It was like Flash was somehow, everywhere! It was amazing to know that Flash could run speeds that no normal human could, and that's what reminded Wally why Flash was his favourite hero.
Speed. Flash had all the time on his hands and Wally? Wally had no time. Wally had to wait until Barry, Aunt Iris's 'friend' came. Wally had analyzed enough of the two, Barry was boring, plain boring, all mixed up in science, why would Aunt Iris want to be friends with him anyways? Maybe Wally was mistaken that Barry was boring, after all, he did find science fun. Wally lingered around the room long enough to dose off somewhere else again, about Flash.

. . . "WALLY!"

After a bunch of packing and moving around, he and Aunt Iris we're already packed and ready to make their way to Central City. Wally couldn't wait.

[User] REMOVED

[Assistant]
"Mom, can you keep the lights on?" Barry asked, scared. His mom tucked him into to bed, and smiled at him. "Don't let the dark scare you, nothing can you hurt you here." She said in her sweet voice, then walked out of the bedroom, turning the lights off. Barry closed his eyes, nothing could hurt him, nothing could hurt him, nothing could hurt him, he thought. He looked around his room, for something to keep him from being afraid. He looked at his fish tank, to see the water rising out of it... A loud crash was heard in the living room, "Mom!? Dad!?" He yelled, scared. He got out of bed and ran to the living room!

Red and yellow lightning sparked everywhere, across the room. Pictures fell off the wall, everything was rotating around the yellow blur. In between the yellow blur, was Barry's mother. "Barry, get back!" His dad yelled. "MOOOM!!??" Barry yelled, the yellow lightning got faster and faster. Barry's mother was in tears, "GET BACK!!! GET BAACCKK!!" She yelled, sobbing loudly. His father got closer, only to be thrown back. His father went unconscious. "Moom!" Barry was in tears, what was happening!? "I LOVE YOU, BARRY! I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU!" She yelled, sobbing. Barry was terrified, "MO-OM!". "GET BACK!!" She yelled, she held her head, bracing for impact from all the things that were falling around her. The red lightning started getting more violent!

West Residence

"HUH!?" Barry yelled, panting in his bed. It was just a nightmare, he grabbed his phone from the night stand. He got a call, "Hello...?" He asked. "Barry, get to S.T.A.R. Labs now. We have an serious problem." Felicity said. Barry got up and got dressed, he walked out to the living room. Joe was watching a football game. "Joe, can I borrow your car?" Joe turned his head around from the TV to face Barry, "Sure." He threw the keys to Barry. Time slowed down, and Barry concentrated, he caught them. "Whoahoahoa.." Joe laughed. "Nice reflexes." Joe said, turning around back to the TV.