[System]
Age: 17

Gender: Male

Race: Faunus (White-Tiger based)

Weapon: Kladenets & Perun

A Charge-Blade and Axe-Shield combination weapon. The two weapons have the unique ability of fusing into a single, larger weapon. Taking the form of a giant axe for a more powerful, albeit slower, combat style. The sword becomes the shaft of the axe with the shield becoming the axe's head. Internally, his weapons house a hidden firing mechanism that allow him to load Dust Ammunition. With loaded ammunition he can unleash destructive, close-ranged, explosive blasts.

Speciality: Though he doesn't necessarily fall into a single, defined role he primarily engages close-ranged combat, but can act as a defensive off-hand tank with his shield and utilizing his Semblance, provide a supportive role. With his shield, he can skillfully defend and attack at the same time with his sword at extremely close ranges. Sheathing his sword into his shield, he can then switch to a defensive position to guard himself or his teammates. As part of his versatile and adaptive nature, his shield has a bladed edge and short punch-spike at its base that allows his shield to double as a weapon. Hidden within his shield is a speed-loader that can quickly reload his sword with a full magazine of Dust Ammunition in the event of an emergency.

Combining his sword and shield together to from his Great Axe, he trades speed and defense for a purely offensive style of combat. With his giant Axe he can use his impressive strength to cleave, crush, and smash through large groups of enemies at once. Though his attacks with his Axe are much slower and in wide arcs, the sheer brute power of the weight of the axe and its slightly increased melee range makes it a fearsome weapon in Kuhaku's hands.

In either its sword or axe form, Kuhaku can load special Dust Ammunition to either 'Burn' or 'Fire'. 'Burning' a round, he can propel himself short distances for a powerful and quick strike. 'Firing' a round unleashes an explosive blast in a small area in front of himself. His explosive dust attacks all require ammunition and as such, he wears a belt with Dust Shotshells on them.

Semblance: The King's Voice - With the sound of his roar, he can temporarily remove mental limiters on he and his teammates' minds. Allowing them to fight with enhanced senses and bolstered physical capability for a few minutes at a time. For his enemies, the sound of his roar has the opposite effect. Muddling their senses to reduce their effectiveness and confusing them.

However, his Semblance comes to him at a cost. The more often he utilizes his Semblance, side effects start to appear though only in himself. The side effects can range anywhere from headaches, impaired senses, seizures, temporary memory loss or permanent memory loss. Not only coming with side effects, there are certain conditions to his Semblance in order for it to be completely effective, if at all. Whenever he prepares to utilize his Semblance, his golden eyes turn a burning, glowing blue. With black 'stripes' appearing on his 'fur', face, and arms. His stripes and eyes can also act as a timer, fading as the effects of his Semblance wears off.

Personality: Having been orphaned at a very young age, Kuhaku never had a home to call his own. As such, he primarily lived in orphanages, moving to a new one every so often. Growing up having never known his own family, he was constantly abused and subjected to prejudice due to his race. Though due to his strong will and good heart, he never held the abuse he went through against Humankind and overcame his rough upbringing. He endured humankind's irrational hatred and treatment of his own kin.

Desiring to prove to others that the Faunus were not the 'beasts' and 'animals' most humans labeled his kind as, he enrolled in Signal as soon as he was able to. He believes that his enrollment to become a future Hunter as a way of demonstrating that Faunus and Humans can coexist and work together peacefully. He one day wishes to become a legendary Hunter to end the Grimm threat and prevent any future generations from ever having to go through what he did, having lost his family. As part of his good-hearted nature, you'll always see him in a generally bright and happy mood. Kind and polite to all who meet him, he treats most everyone with the same level of warmth and respect akin to that of a close, long-time friend. Outgoing, loud, energetic and enthusiastic are just a few characteristics to describe him. As a result of his tough childhood he has a deep understanding of other people's hardships and pain, granting him a strong sense of empathy. Quick to trust others and make friends, Kuhaku doesn't have a hateful bone in his body, despite what other ignorant humans might think.

Color: Sky-Blue

Emblem:

Appearance:

[All rights reserved to Nitroplus for the character image. Credit goes to Lugubrious for the Emblem!]

[User]
Ciel - A confused Rabbit
This is bad very bad was all she thought as she froze it looked like her team mates died but she was sure that Mokuren was not inside the building so It was very unlikely she was dead. "Luke if you are really alive I want you to punch me" she stated it was finally dawning on her that this might not be reality and if it wasn't she knew that it would haunt her. Letting Byakko drop and rest on her shoulder she waited either "Luke" would scream something again and punch her or stay quiet. If he stayed quiet she would know that he was dead and than she would act as of right now she was practically fighting every instinct that told her to act.

[Assistant]
Lucas Schwarz -- Flabbergasted

What did she just say?

"P-"

"Punch you?!" he repeated dumbfoundedly, skidding to a halt not halfway from Morgan. Looking at his teammate as though she'd grown three heads, he turned halfway towards her, keeping the enemy still in his peripheral vision.

"Are you sure?" He asked, preemptively deactivating one of his gauntlets. Didn't he have a Lieutenant to be punching instead? What could possibly--

Wait.

It all dawned on him at once, and his eyebrows shot up in surprise. The simple beauty of Ciel's plan! An actual masterstroke, even under such confusing trials! And yet also so simple, he was kicking himself for not thinking of it already.

The order relied on exploiting the key differences in the illusions she was perceiving, and reality. What the illusion was causing her to perceive was that he was dead, which was simple enough. The Caster herself had clued him into that. However, that perception was brought into question by his own outburst moments later, a direct contradiction to Morgan's intentions. What she had perceived as reality had suddenly turned into one big question mark.

Now, ordering his "dead" body to move-- what would in normal circumstances be a sad display of an unwillingness to accept his death would actually serve as the turning point as to whether or not they broke through the tinted lens placed over Ciel's eyes.

That is, it put Morgan into a lose-lose situation. Illusions were only that. Illusions. They had no weight nor mass behind them, so if his "stand-in" complied with the order, she would be punched by nothing but air, especially something that had just been assumedly shown to be dead.

Enough for anyone to catch on. Now, if I myself were to run in and punch her, whatever I appear to be is now speaking with my voice and is following orders directed at me flawlessly. It can also punch her just like I can, thus proving that the illusory me is in fact, neither dead nor real, along with adding a jolt of pain to her nervous system. Proving the illusion wrong and adding a jolting, sudden stimulus to the nervous system, forcing it to break concentration. A combination that will always shatter a misguided perception of reality.

In other words, the jig is up no matter what happens.

"All right. Sorry, but you asked for it, Ciel! Here I come!" he shouted, sprinting towards her as if she'd taken his lunch money. Cocking that same unarmored fist back, he thanked her for placing such trust in him during desperate times...

And uncorked a half-powered punch straight into her bellybutton. Not hard enough to severely hurt her, but just enough for her to feel it, without any doubt.

He grimaced as he felt it connect.

Again, she asked for it. But that didn't make having to "turn on" a teammate the most enjoyable of prospects.

Sorry.

[User]
IC: Emerald

"Well I don't actually have a team yet..." Emmy scratched the back of her head, fidgeting. "I just transfered from Haven, I always wanted to go to Beacon see, but I couldn't afford to actually get here...but the student exchange program took care of that!" She gave a thumbs up along with a big grin on her face. "Ozpin said he'd find me a team in the next day or two, so no worries there!"

"But enough about me! What about you? What is your team like? What is your semblance? What weapons do you use? How was your mission? Was it full of danger!? Was it scary!? Did you beat up Grimm and bad guys!? Did you remember to brush your teeth afterwards!? Huh?!?" Emmy shot whatever questions she could think of as fast as her mouth could handle, which was actually quite a lot.

[Assistant]
Skyra Dawn, Patrol Mission

Skyra threw both girls a quick smirk. "Good girl.", she exclaimed nodding and then proceeded to follow Ebon who already was a couple of yards ahead of her.
After the girls were out of view, Skyra sighed. Once more she successfully avoided killing somebody without being hurt herself. She definitely counted this as an achievement worth striving for.

Not much later, the Horn of Plenty made itself known to Skyra's nose. She absolutely hated that place. Not because of the commotion or anything, no. It was the crazy amount of smells that bothered her. One or two different meals would be bearable, but not this many. A quick guess trying to differentiate between different odours brought up at least ten to fifteen completely different meals, all of those biting each other.

She saw the police band long before the police spotted the two hunters.
Burglary, eh? Doesn't seem that special from here. She retracted that thought as soon as the police officer contacted them.
"Aye. What seems to be the problem, sir?"

[User]
Abel Fulgurate

A raised eyebrow greeted Robert's request. Out of everything, he wanted to focus on the ferret? The scruffy little critter and its single-track mind hadn't made much of an impression on Abel, but he couldn't help but admit that the horrible thing was at least adorably horrible. It would be a little while before anyone could stand it enough to figure out its true potential, and was therefore a perfect fit for Shiro. That, the guardian mused, or it was simply a mindless animal with special abilities. Yikes—unfortunate implications indeed, if he'd have been shortsighted enough to say it aloud.

"Well, it's small, and mostly gray. It's got dark coloring around its eyes, so it looks like it's wearing a superhero mask. Its teeth stick out slightly, and it's kinda ragged. Definitely not as sleek as normal ferrets. But it's just as stretchy, like most are. You ever hold one? They're like furry slinkies. This one had a lot of aura, even had a semblance. He could speak into our brains, but he's as dumb as any other ferret, so all it said was 'food' and 'fun'. Shiro loved him, named him Scoot 'cause when he moves around on the ground it looks like he's sliding, I guess. Sapph hates him though, because he's nice." Abel noticed that he'd transitioned to calling Scoot 'he' rather than 'it' halfway through his explanation. Was the critter growing on him already? Abel shrugged. As long as it didn't nip him, he supposed he could pet it now and again.

[Assistant]
Kuhaku Shiro - Cafeteria

Shiro lowered his hand as he tilted his head, cocking an eyebrow. "You're a transfer student from Haven? Oh, cool. What's Haven l-" Before Shiro could finish his question, Emmy went fully-automatic with a slew of rapid-fire questions. With each question she asked, his smile broke out into a wider and wider growing grin as his eyes began to practically sparkle with bursting stars. "This gal can definitely be my friend." Motivated by her enthusiasm and energy, he could feel his own feverish energy levels rising as well. Leaning in, he answered her questions in no particular order but with the same talkative speed and ardor.

"Oh, like I said I'm with Team Swansong. I have two other teammates Abel and Gren who are pretty swell guys! Abel has this lightning Semblance and Gren, who is a Boar Faunus, has this 'sticky' Semblance. Our team leader is Sapphire and she...Well, enough about her. I have a sword and shield that combine into giant axe! My mission- Well, some parts were pretty fun! Pretty dangerous but exciting! I did beat up...something." He looked away and scratched at his head, unsure of how to categorize the massive lizard he and his other friends fought against. Cocking an eyebrow, he couldn't help but break out into laughter at her dental hygiene question. "Ha ha! No, I didn't brush my teeth afterward! I don't know why that would be a thing. But, my Semblance is pretty cool too, want to see?!" Leaping up onto the cafeteria table, Shiro stood and began to slowly suck in a large volume of air. As he did, his golden-brown eyes 'froze' over and took on their glowing icy-blue hue. Black streaks 'burned' onto parts of his hair, face, and tail. Lungs filled to capacity, he was just about to unleash the full force of his Semblance's ability but stopped and held his breath.

Looking 'round the cafeteria, he slowly exhaled as his chest deflated. Though the dining hall was sparsely populated, he was certain that it wasn't very wise to just suddenly unleash his power upon the few poor unsuspecting students that were eating. Not to mention the faculty and his team leader wouldn't like hearing about this. Nervously laughing, he hopped off of the cafeteria table and took his seat. Scratching his head again, he figured that somewhere else at some other time would be better to show off. "Uh, sorry. Maybe I can show you later outside or something." As he calmed down and pulled himself back, he posed some of the same questions back to Emmy. "What about you? What was Haven like? What are your weapons and Semblance?"


[System]
Age: 17
Gender: Female
Race: Human

Weapon: Unlike the majority of Hunters that dwell the broken world of Remnant, Gratia wields two, separate and completely distinct weapons due to her poverty, which has prevented her from obtaining more advanced weaponry. She wields a dull, grey mameluke sabre named Valens, furnished simply with the imprint of her emblem on its hilt. It is utilised alongside her other weapon, an automatic carbine named Valentinian, black and silver and also light enough to be used with one hand.

She also owns an SUV that she acquired from a mafia family after a mission.

Specialty: Capable of dealing with enemies both in close combat and mid-range, Gratia's role on Team VGNB (Vignoble) is to draw the attention of Grimm as she cuts swathes through their ranks in her berserk rage. As such, she is quite the durable warrior, and if time passes, she will only grow stronger as her semblance drains away at the energies of her enemies, making her perfect for her position as the 'tank' of the team.

Semblance: Bibere Vinum - Gratia's lust for battle and power is translated into a semblance that allows her to drain the aura of others in the area in order to strengthen her own physical abilities. In particular, her speed, strength, and endurance. The effects compound over time, and thus while they aren't too noticeable in the first few minutes of combat, the longer one fights her and the closer they are in proximity, the stronger Gratia gets.

Following her conversation with her mother on what it meant to be a Huntress and what she meant to those close to her, Gratia's semblance metamorphosed into a new form, gaining an additional ability based upon her existing powers. Her ability to detect and sometimes recognise other lifeforms in the area has become more powerful, allowing her to inject a tiny portion of her own aura into people upon contact, creating a connection between her and her victim that allows her to track and identify them no matter where they go, and will not be broken unless either of them are dead, or if Gratia wishes it to end. It also provides her basic information on the victim's status, such as their health, mood and general condition.

Personality: At first glance, Gratia appears to be quite a solemn figure, impassive and quiet in the majority of situations. Restraint seems to come easily to her, and there is an aura of professionalism that permeates her every action. It would be obvious, then, to assume that she is a rather serious person, one who devotes her very being to work and believes that everything else is a waste of time. In actuality, this is mostly inaccurate. When she speaks it is generally to insult others, particularly her aggravating teammate Napoli, and her speech is peppered with gratuitous swearing.

She is extremely sarcastic and is quick to point out when a situation does not strike her as favourable. She is also rather arrogant and has a haughty sense of pride that dictates her actions. If someone starts annoying her, her impassive aura is quick to drop and Gratia will instead begin with a spewing out insults. However, she is not entirely horrible, being actually fairly kind to those who she deems as respect worthy and more importantly, not annoying. While she is quiet still, she is more than willing to offer them a helping hand on assignments and other problems.

In addition, Gratia possesses a strong sense of loyalty to her loved ones. If you piss her off or take advantage of her friends she will make your life a living hell. Of course, do what you want to her annoying teammates, especially Napoli, she'll only save them at the last minute when they're about to die. And you're not allowed to kill them. She gets to when they screw up.

When in combat, her normally solemn personality completely disappears, replaced by a crazed bloodlust that seems to consume her entire being (and probably those poor Grimm that she'll murder). In this state, it can be quite surprising to listen to her cackle loudly like a hyena as she terrorises her enemies.

Color: Chartreuse Green (66CD00)

Emblem: Gratia's emblem has a certain religious flair to it, with a solid sabre sitting upon a champagne bottle, which is a chartreuse green to contrast the black and grey of the sabre and background.

Appearance:

Source | NarayanK's Interpretation

Standing at a height of one point seven five metres, Gratia is relatively tall for most girls her age, a trait that is magnified by her rock solid posture. With long, flowing brown-black hair, onyx eyes and a well-defined face (though usually seen bland or scowling), and an athletic build, she can be described as rather attractive (though her compatriot-in-arms would argue the opposite), but few dare comment on her appearance in case she takes offence.

Due to her status as a student from Haven, she dons the snazzy uniform of her "beloved" school when attending class, completely unmodified and always super tidy (it comes at a surprise that to many that she is willing to wear the skirt). When outside of class however, she can always be seen with her signature black turtleneck, brown jeans and her green winter coat, which she is highly possessive of (and possibly willing to murder for, though that's a rumour). As a music aficionado, she frequently wears headphones in order to enjoy her smooth jazz and drown out the incessant chatter of her fellows and her teammates in particular.
Name: Galla Mindaro
Age: 15
Gender: Female
Race: Human

Weapon: Steel Construction I-Beam (W18X40)

Specialty: Without needing the use of a semblance, Galla Mindaro possesses a ridiculously immense amount of physical strength, capable of carrying even the heaviest of construction materials with ease. As such, her lightest blows can easily hit as hard as a freight train, sending her targets flying with little effort on her part. Similar to her more infamous older sister, she is incredibly durable, her numerous years of acting as Gratia's training partner having developed her defenses dramatically.

Semblance: Nemo Curat - Galla's apathy and sense of detachment from the world has been translated into a semblance that allows her to essentially detach a part of her own self, preventing it from interacting with the outside world. She can only induce this state in one thing at a time, and if she wishes to stop another part of her self from being observed by reality, she has to first reattach the originally detached part. An example of her semblance in use would be detaching her scent, thereby preventing anybody from smelling her.

Personality: The younger Mindaro sibling possesses a quiet and stoic demeanour, staying impassive in the face of any situation to the extent that one could easily mistake her for a stone statue. Restraint marks her every action, with each lifeless movement utterly lacking in any form of energy or emotion. To Galla, the rest of the world simply isn't important at all, and it is through this lens of utter apathy that she engages with life.

So great is her sense of detachment that absolutely nothing is capable of fazing her. Everything is met with the same bland air, as if there was a distant chasm between her and the rest of the world. She cannot bring herself to care for it, finding little that can stimulate her dulled emotions into responding. At times, it appears as if Galla lacks a presence beyond simply 'existing', seeming more akin to a cardboard cutout than an actual human.

She doesn't see it as a problem in any way.

However, that is not to say that Galla Mindaro is simply an emotionless mannequin that is utterly incapable of being human. The truth is actually the opposite; the younger of the Mindaro sisters is surprisingly empathetic, capable of understanding the feelings, motivations and experiences of other people to a great extent. It does not change her utter lack of interest and care for them, but if the whim were to come to her, she could interact with others with little difficulty.

It is because of this that, despite her eerie detachment, Galla possesses a bond with her family. Although she rarely shows any sign of concern for them, the younger Mindaro acknowledges her parents in their entirety, and it is evident that she respects her older sister in some fashion. She is also not devoid of friends, being able to, even in her bland and uncaring manner, work amicably with a number of her classmates. Whether or not she is a good friend is debatable, especially when she does not exactly care too much for them.

She is also highly observant of her surroundings, whether they be social cues, appearances or the shape of the world. Information is immediately captured and stored in her photographic memory, although much of it fails to affect her in any manner. She holds few opinions on them, but there are times when she does judge, usually through an arbitrary rating system. When taking action, there are also moments where she may seem rather excessive, unaware of whether or not something may be too much.

Galla may or may not have a sense of humour. It's extremely hard to tell.

Color: Chartreuse Yellow (DFFF00)

Emblem: Galla's emblem has traces of religious iconography, with a pitch-black profile of a rooster, one of the holiest animals of the Mistralese Church, imprinted upon a champagne bottle of chartreuse yellow, its brightness a contrast to the colour of the bird.

Appearance:

Source

[User]
Bianca Nuit – A Dei Tour

 "That's not a no." Bianca said with a giggle stabbing some more lettuce onto her fork as Gratia told her to postpone her propositioning. She wasn't all that serious about any of this, but she did think it was really fun. Besides maybe she gets a good couple nights out of all her propositioning down the line someday. Good for Bianca.

 "Oh, I'm sorry dear," Bianca said as she realized she had forgotten to answer Napoli  "I'm not such a prude to disallow you a custom made pillow. But I do enjoy the idea of making this interesting. Gelure is itching for a fight as well." Bianca purred, putting her fork down on the table. "But you get such an extravagant pillow, handmade by one of the most beautiful girls you've ever met, what could you possibly offer me if I win?"

Bianca was good at negotiations she found herself constantly in positions where she had to use her wit and charm to counter her opponent's own mind. The trick was to make them stop thinking about themselves and keep them entirely focused on her. She was good at that as well. In a typical interrogation it would be as simple an undone button for her to completely decimate her enemy. She prided herself on her ability to decimate, it was what made Bianca, Bianca.

 "I'd also like to point out the error in your previous statement."  Bianca said adjusting in her seat. She looked, almost a little flustered.  "My plan will work out better than last time in Haven and I don't want to hear anything more about it." Bianca said quietly to Napoli, the disaster that was 'A Date With An Angel' couldn't be understated. But alas, season two would be a righteous victory.

 "Besides I expect everyone here will try out which should bring the class average up substantially."  Bianca said, effortlessly recovering after her flustered whisper. That was to be expected though. After all the nickname 'Angel' didn't just come from her wings. A lot of it came from her personality.

It was first given to Bianca when a man walked into her music final in Haven two years ago. She had this habit of spreading her wings whenever she played the piano. And from that day forward to Haven she was 'The Angel'. But to VGNB she was still the same old cocky bitch.

[Assistant]
Jack Orpheus | Dragon's Den

"Timeout! Timeout! Timeout!", Jack furrowed his eyebrows and tilted his head slightly in disbelief. He was about to step forward and just punch him again, but before he could, the guy pulled out a flashbang after yelling to close your eyes. Of course, he'd rather avoid being stunned, so he covered his eyes as he threw it down. Normally, Jack could've stopped this, his semblance was fast enough, but the way this guy was caught him completely off guard. By the time he removed his arm from his face, there were three clones, running in three different directions.

"I guess this is a good chance to try a new trick...", he said to himself. He took out one dagger, and stabbed it into the floor in front of him, before getting the other and throwing it at one of the clones. It swept clean past them, but as it did, Jack used his daggers as lightning rods for his Semblance, essentially to enable him to use small bursts of his Lightning Rod special. Instantly punching the clone in the front and back, retrieving the dagger on arrival, and then returning to the dagger he struck into the ground.

"Hm... not that one", he said, there were two left. The only place they could run is around this battlefield, why though? How did this guy even plan on winning...? In any case, he repeated the technique with the second one, and into a poof of smoke that one goes too. By the time he was onto the third one, he was turning a corner. Jack clicked his tongue in annoyance and dashed his way after the clown.

[User]
"I don't have the time to date you."

The remains of her second slice of pizza descended down her oesophagus. She quietly reached for her next slice, letting her eyes linger on the cheese-covered olives somehow attached to the thick crust of the pastry. Sauce haphazardly painted the box; such a waste, whoever was responsible for making the pizza, while skilled in bringing out the flavour of all the ingredients, was horrible at properly preparing the food. Likely some unmotivated teenager working for minimum wage. Fucking fatasses; they were getting paid and they weren't even trying to shit out quality.

Gratia chewed on the slice, far more solemn than she had previously been when dealing with Fiordilatte. Her "compatriot" was one of the few people that could consistently bring her out of her standard impassivity; otherwise, she was usually quiet and aloof, rarely speaking her mind unless directly addressed, and even then, there wouldn't be much for her to say. Dealing with others was honestly a waste of time, unless they were annoying shits who deserved to be lambasted by her long strings of rude epithets.

"It's real fucking creepy that you're letting Fiordilatte sleep on your feathers though," continued the Hunter upon a slight pause. "It's like Venetia giving him an ass cushion made from her own fucking hair."


[System]
The Drama Teacher
Age: 27 (born Dec 8th)
Element: Water/Ice
Appearance:

(Image Credit & Ownership is SkyFly17. To request removal, please PM this account.)

Personality: Passionate. Enthusiastic. Devoted. As stubborn as a damn mule. These are just a few select terms that would describe Marshall Narquis. He is the sort of person to throw himself headlong into whatever he sets his mind to, and it's not uncommon at all for him to get in over his head in doing so. That said, he usually manages to find a way out of such situations, often simply thanks to his seeming inability to let things rest once they're started. Outside of such things, he is on the whole a cheerful man who always looks for the bright side of things, and grins even if he doesn't find one. Though some might mistake this for naivety, he's really quite intelligent and sensible- his boundless optimism is just a tactic that was once taught to him as a coping mechanism that has since become his default state of mind. Above all, he's dependable. If Marshall says he'll do something, support someone, or take care of a problem, very little will be able to stop him from following through.

History: Marshall's childhood was not really what could be called pleasant. His mother raised him alone, in poor conditions, and constantly moving from place to place it seemed; a by-product of the scorn for their abilities that showed itself whenever somebody discovered them. Despite this, his mother always smiled, and as Marshall grew up she taught him to do the same. "No matter what, never forget to smile," she would say to him, "Because if you keep smiling, you'll be able to find every reason to be happy. But if you don't, you'll only see reasons to be sad."

As he grew older, he discovered why his mother had worked herself to the bone for so long; she'd been steadily pooling funds to allow him to attend the Academy, a chance she herself never received. And by some stroke of fortune, she happened to have saved enough to do just that by the time he came of the right age. While studying there, aside from exploring and learning to control his power, he found his greatest joys in the Theatre & Drama classes with Instructor Claudia Colson. The days spent learning under her were some of his fondest memories, and where he made several of his friends. And, in later years, it was Claudia who gave him 1-on-1 lessons for commanding his element, in particular teaching him the art of finely shaping it into a variety of objects- something he came to specialize in.

Years later, well after he had graduated and gone on to tackle the world, it came to Marshall's attention that Claudia was electing to retire from teaching. Moreover, it seemed the Academy was having trouble finding someone to take her place and teach the art of stagecraft. That, he decided, just would not do, and he set about applying to take the job himself. It's now his 2nd year of teaching as such, and he's actually starting to get the hang of it...

Equipment: A small steel bar, roughly the size and shape of a sword grip that he uses as an aid for moulding his element(s) into handheld objects.

Class Taught: Theatre & Drama

[User]
Thora Herschel

Thora shrugged at first, then she repeatedly "answered" Fizban's questions. She nodded to her parents being engineers and travellers and to her focus being water.
Then, when the last question came, she tilted her head and almost mockingly pointed her index at the old man, whose name she still did not know, mouthing a you? at him.

Tired of having to crane her neck this far up, she jumped down from the rock she sat on and moved up the ramp back to the high ground, now being able to face the old man by standing in front of him. It would be then, that her diminutive stature would be at its most noticeable and though that might have, to some, made her seem weak and helpless, the jovial and taunting look in her eyes balanced that out quite nicely. That and the provocative way she stood in front of her soon to be teacher.

She reached out her hand to him, expecting wholeheartedly for him to shake it.

[Assistant]
Jeanne d'Luc -- Temperance

As she ascended the ladder away from the boy with the task she had given him, she suddenly found herself listening to another voice. One which made her pale just slightly in response: the headmaster. Simply nodding mutely at first, her fingertips remained clasped upon the ladder as she looked back down to the boy; who happily went about drawing a Knight of sorts trying to lift the stone.

She frowned.

While she found it to be aescetically pleasant, she found the practicality of such to be lacking. That, and she was displeased about how quickly she was overruled. Closing her eyes for a moment, she fought off her predisposition of displeasure and instead nodded to Zeke.

"I suppose that will suffice," she began with coldly, with the next following statement returning to her warm, sunny nature. "Welcome to Basic Light Theory. When I begin teaching you, I expect you up at the earliest hour as the sun rises. Ready and awake at the south fields, your new journey will begin there."

In a dazzling finish, the sword in stone shattered with her will, leaving a dazzling burst of wisps and white ethereal smoke swirling about him in the air. A moment later, it would dissipate entirely. Leaving only the ruin of what had once been solid granite in its place.

Deftly rising up the last of the ladder and resuming her stride towards Freya's pit, she let her hand run across the tall grass as she patiently watched, waited, and observed. In a magificent flourish, an eastern serpent rose into the air from Freya's pit, moving albeit a touch clumsily, but brilliantly all the same.

Mutely, Jeanne was impressed. She hadn't seen a first year with such prowess in a long time. Not since her own first trial.

When the Dragon burst into nothingness, Jeanne applauded slowly from above. No matter what, she had to remain nonplussed, in spite of how much she wished to be jubilant. It was a nice challenge to have, a prodigal power and a refined artist of sorts in her classes. Both would require work, discipline, and humility.

"Commendable." She stated simply, not showing the least bit of surprise that the girl wasn't completely exhausted from her efforts. Neatly, the paladin's hands folded behind her back as sapphire eyes which burned with a holy conviction stared down at the girl. She would not offer encouragement or a pat on the back other than her own words.

"Welcome to Basic Light Theory." Jeanne added before shifting to walk away to inspect other students. "Your new adventures after the trials will begin soon, and I expect you awake at the earliest moment. The second the sun touches the horizon in the morning, at the south fields with your new classmates."

Walking away from Freya ever enigmatically just as Jax had done to her years ago, she continued her slow patrol, watching other elements with a faint interest; but more importantly, she was watching for more prospects of the light.

Never did it take long, either.

As she briskly made her way across the field, there was a faint shimmer from one pit, not of fire, but of light. Sharply turning towards it, Jeanne progressed rapidly across the field to stare down at a girl that had made a house of mirrors for herself. At least in most senses a simplified version.

It was peculiar, and it might not have sufficed in hers or Jax's eyes, but it would likely work quite well for the purposes and intentions of the headmaster. After all, not every student held the destination of a front-line soldier like herself.

"Interesting," she mused from above. Contemplating on how to further challenge the girl, how to push her limits and understanding of herself. From what it seemed she could create self images and profiles, but what of slightly more complex illusions? How hard could she be pushed? She had to remembers the words of Kano. Her zeal needed to be tempered.

Finally at long last, she had it.

"Your illusions are good, but is it truly your best?" The Paladin inquired, while she brushed an elegant strand of radiant gold hair aside. "Indulge my curiosity as your prospective teacher. Instead of just images of oneself, create literal mirrors of light both in front of you, and behind you. If you can create this illusion, I will deem you fit to join the ranks of my students."

It was a difficult task for a first year to be certain, but to one who displayed a variant of control like this girl did,.it shouldn't be impossible.

Standing stiffly, she waited for Vera to act. To try.

[User]
"And there it is," he said as Yelena tried again, this time holding steady. Her tactic was well chosen; of all the elements, water could be one of the most particular when it came to the wielder's emotional state. Before, she'd been nervous and even a little desperate. But now, having calmed herself, the contrast was amazing. "Keep at it, Ms Kasyanenko, and I'm sure you'll go far. Now then, best to vacate this spot, let someone else up to the plate, hmm?"

And with that, he'd gone off to continue observing.

-Later-

Ah, Marshall thought to himself, so she's one of these, is she? There always seemed to be one such student in every class, even back when he attended; impetuous, disdainful, withdrawn, and very often with a superiority complex to make Sun Wukong blush. But, he reminded himself, they could be brought around; in fact, the one he remembered most from his school days was now his fellow faculty. It just took the right teacher and a bit of effort. Ans so he found himself climbing down to her level, willing his own icy seat into existence- albeit a simple desk chair, rather than an elaborate throne.

"Actually," he responded to her dismissal of his question, "I was more wondering about the callousness. In fact, from where I'm sitting, it almost looked like contempt. Were they not to your liking when they assembled themselves? Or... was it perhaps something else? Something to do with those symbols etched onto them, perhaps?"

That was, of course, the thing about ice sculptures; no matter what face the elementalist put on when creating them, they always seemed to reflect the inner thoughts of the shaper. Even Claudia hadn't been able to fully deceive her ice, and she'd had decades to try. There was more to this than just thinking the trial was beneath her...

"But, if it's a challenge you're after, I can oblige you," he said, a smile never leaving his face. "Since you've proven you can make sculptures so easily, I'd like you to do it again. But this time... I'd like to see something specific. Why don't you tell me a story with them? I'll give you..."

He thought for a moment, then raised his right hand into the air with his index and middle fingers extended and rotated his wrist clockwsie so that the fingers made a swishing shape in the air. Six puddles of water appeared from beneath the earth between the two of them, pooling distinctly and evenly apart. "Six statues, one from each pool. Any tale you like, fictional or historical. And please, let them stick around for a bit this time. When you're ready, Ms Sterling-Silva."

He spread his legs apart and leaned forward slightly, and with another wave of his fingers the back of his chair melted away and reformed in front of him, reversing the chair without ever getting up, and he leaned forward onto it. "You've made it clear you have power. I'd like to see if you have finesse and vision to back it up."


[System]
Gender : Male

Appearance: Zat's skin is a deep dark green and one of lower canines is damaged, leaving it shorter and blunt.

Personality: Zats isn't the most confident goblin in existence but he wil still try his best to be useful and help his tribe out. While not a genius by human standards he is a bit smarter than the average goblin, especially when it comes to quick thinking. Due to his confidence issues he doesn't often say something if he disagrees with one of the other goblins, unless someone else also shows doubts about the plan/idea or he feels it's really important.

Past Life History : In a different world Zats was a somewhat geeky kid with an interest in stage magic and had learned some simple tricks when he died along with his father in a car accident.

Skill : Magic potential: Zats has great potential to learn magic.

Other (anything you think should be put up):

(This will be filled in later as the rp goes on, for now just leave this part blank)
EXP:

Inventory:

Acquired Skills:

Titles:

Blessings:

Curses:

[User]
@Wildman13

The first hunt-

After their attempt at climbing the tree the goblins known as zats and Gina walked forward through the bushes in search of the rabbit grandpa told them about. They didnt need to journey far before they saw two. They were both circling each other and were making feint against the other to force the other to attack first. It was clear that what they were seeing were two horned rabbits in a territory war. They were going to fight each other for the area and the goblins were given the choice to fight now or to wait till they finish their dispute so they would only need to attack one. Either way both rabbits were already on high alert so they needed to be careful in not drawing attention to themselves...

[Assistant]
Goblin Gird A little ways into the forest /// Morning // Day 3

One strike after another into the small shrubbery. Eventually turning it into a pile of sticks and working up a sweat doing so. The young goblin stopped for a moment to breathe when he felt it. A tingle at the back of his neck, his instincts blaring caution. The pointed green ears flexed and made slight involuntary movements. Slowly his ears settled on the sound of brush moving. With his club in hand he turned to look around. He didn't immediately see anything.

Gird could see some other goblins mulling about near the cave. For a moment he lost concentration on what had grabbed his attention from earlier. All he could think about for a moment was the other goblins. Not his brothers and sisters or his litter mates. But all the others of their tribe or clan. Sure they were older, but they seemed lacking in spirit or maybe energy. It was almost as if those he was born with were blessed with something more.

He shook his head free of these strange thoughts and back to the matter at hand. He would have to get used to being concentrated while in the forest. Relaxing or dropping your guard out here could very well spell doom. So Gird focused back on the area the sound came from. His breathing slowed while he concentrated until the goblins gaze settled on a small bush. The bush seemed to have another small figure in it. Deciding to speak out toward the bush gripping the club with his right hand, "Are you going to come out and say hi? Or am I going to have to come get you?" However, the low growl of his stomach was a subtle reminder of why they where out here and what he must get back to.

EXP:

Inventory:

Clothing: Loin cloth

Weapons: Crude Wooden Cudgel

Acquired Skills:

Titles:

Blessings:

Curses:

[User]
Goblin Luz

There was a rustle in the bushes as the female Goblin begin crawling out of them through the front. "Well it about time you notice me" She bragged before getting up to her feet. She then waved to him. "Hello, it's me goblin Luz. Just came to see if you if you're worthy of team up with." She told him sounding friendly like. She wore a warm smile on her face which would be a hell of a lot graceful if she didn't have a stick in her short hair.

She then begins looking for a branch of her own. She then picked once up before sampling it by swing it a few times. "What i seen you do seem quite capable." She remarked after swinging the stick around she then toss it over her shoulder before remarking. "Too long." before picking up another branch this one was shorter and lighter than the one from before. HEr stomach then lightly growled, she then releases i light sigh before saying. "This one still a bit too heavy for my taste so i guess i will crave it down as soon as we or I find something to eat." She told him before turning back to him.

[Assistant]
Goblin Zats & Goblin Gina
Day three outside

Seeing the rabbits for the first time, Gina eyes shined, like a child she gets excited and from the looks of it she seems like she about to ram herself into it. Winding up she assumed a position like those runners in track and field. "Zats, I want one." She says suggesting that she would ram herself and with both her arms hug it into submission.

This was highly ill advised, as she seems to be dismissing the fact that she could stab herself with its horn or head the tree in front of her if she would have missed. Fortunately she was toning it down enough for the rabbits to not hear anything.

---

When he saw the rabbits fighting Zats decided to wait and study their movements in hopes of making future hunts easier. Unfortunately it seemed Gina had different plans. For a second he was worried she would just run off and tackle one of them, but when she didn't leave immediately he calmed down a little.

Still he doubted he would have the change to study the prey as much as he had liked and wondered how he could convince Gina to wait at leats a bit longer.Eventaully he decided to take the most direct route and started whispering "I think we should wait. Two Goblins against one rabbit is better odds." Now he just hoped she would listen to him.

---

"We're gonna hunt them?!" She said quite shocked but, not too loud to make the rabbits flee. "But, I want one..." She continues quite depressed and down all of a sudden. But, she relents as she remembers the hunger that she felt before.

Then suddenly her eyes brighten in joy like an plan or considering her actions a completely rash and reckless plan. "Circle around Zat and grab a rock." She said as she grabs a rock nearby. "Wait for my signal and aim for the winner." She adds confident with her plan. "Also let me borrow your clothes for now." She said waiting for his answer.

---

Zats felt a littlle sorry for Gina when he realized she wanted one of the rabbits as a pet, something that wasn't that bad an idea, but he had no idea how they would accomplish that. Luckily she was still willing to hunt and kill them for their meat and had even come up with a plan to do it.

Despite not knowing what she was up to he decided to follow her lead as she sounded confident. While he was looking for a rock she surprised him by asking for his loincloth. After thinking it over he relented. "Okay but I want it back, in the cave you should be able to make your own anyway." Feeling a bit awkward he undressed and handed Gina the cloth before resuming to look for a decent rock. After he found one he slowly began to circle their prey.

---

Gina started picking up many of the rocks and stones near her. She then wraps up the stones with his loin cloth making it and tieing it after which. She grabs a rock which she plans to throw on the other side to scare the rabbits to them both which Zat would hit the winner with the rock she told him to grab.

Though she waited until one of the rabbits must wound the other enough for the plan to work, as she wanted to have her own pet of course. She then moved to her place and gets ready to throw the rock on her hand.

---

After sneaking around for a bit Zats found what he though was a good hiding spot. He ended up diagnolly acrsso from Gina, but more importantly he was directly behind one od the rabbits. If that one ended up winning he should be able to to hit it without being noticed, while it losing made it relativley easy to throw his rock at the head of the other one.

When he saw Gina putting rocks in his loincloth he wondered what she was up too and made sure to watch her just as carefully as he watched the rabbits. If what she was planning worked, he wanted to know what she did so he could maybe use it himself later.

---

She then ties the rocks onto his loincloth, making a makeshift net that she would use to capture her pet. So she whispers to herself the plan. From waiting for the victor to injuire the loser which would make it slower. Then, throwing one of the rocks on the sides to scare them and herding the victor to her partner which he would bash it with his rock and the injuired one to her, which she would cast her net to it capturing it and then naming it to Gi if it was a female and Za if it was a male.

Now having gone through the plan several times in her head she waits for the victor. Arming herself with the determination of getting her pet and to satisfy her hunger. She readies herself to execute the plan.

---

While Zats had no idea what Gina's plan was he was waiting for her signal. At that point he would go for the winner if ony one rabbit was alive or tge one with the most injuries if she decided to strike while both rabbits were alive.

He had abonded his plan to throw his rock so he would have to charge inand attempt to bash the skull of target in without getting any serious injuries. He didn't like it but if he threw and missed he would give his location away and be unarmed.

---

Summary: Zats cirkels the rabbits, end up across from Gina who weighted his loincloth with rocks to use as a makeshift net. Gina will trow as soon as one of the rabbits is injured hoping to lure the uninjured to Zats so she can catch the injured with her net. Unaware of her plan Zats was planning to wait for Gina's signal to charge in and bash the skull of the injured rabbit in, trusting his partner to deal with the other one and hoping not to get hurt.

[User]
@Wildman13

The rabbits didn't notice them as they circled each other and got ready to fight. Soon one of them made a move and charged forward while the other rabbit quickly dodged as they started what looked to be a sort of joust. They charged each other but they made sure to dodge any blows that came to close. It seemed the two were evenly matched until one of them overextended their charge and jumped to far ahead he was barely able to avoid a lethal blow as the horn of the other rabbit hit its hind leg injuring it....

Rabbit 1 has been injured in its hind leg dropping it's speed and charge ability, rabbit 2 moves In for the kill.

[Assistant]
Goblin Gina

@Duthguy

When one of the rabbits was injured Gina quickly sprint into action, throwing a rock near them to scare the two from their little fare. All she was hoping that all goes according to plan as she readies her net waiting for the wounded one to flee towards her hiding place. And that the victor to retreat to Zat position. The event was the first ever adrenaline rushing moment for Gina as the thrill of the hunt starts to pump adrenaline towards her system making everything slower than what they seems.

EXP:

Inventory: makeshift net

Acquired Skills:

Titles:

Blessings:

Curses:

[User]
Goblin Gird Exploring the forest /// Morning // Day 3

A female Goblin named Luz. The girl seemed quite confident in her abilities. More so then some of the other goblins that still seemed to be wandering about in a daze or wandered off into the forest with little direction. "Worthy?" Gird gave the girl a smirk before rolling his eyes and turning back towards the forest. He began to walk away from her as she continued to speak. Honestly he wasn't trying to be rude, he just was hungry.

After seeing her pick up her choice of a weapon he took another look at her. The cogs in his head turning as he thought for a moment. "Alright I guess we will see if we make a good team. But, we share everything. From kills to meat." Still holding the club on his shoulder. "If we both put in effort for the kill no matter who gets the killing blow, we share. If you come with me I will assume you accept" he didn't wait for an answer. He was too hungry to wait around any longer.

"Oh and my name is Gird." He called out before walking into the brush and further away from the cave. The small well-traveled trails where helpful with moving through the brush for a little while. Eventually he did leave them for less traveled areas trying to make sure he could find his way back. Eventually walking through a part of the forest that didn't have any paths, goblin or otherwise. After all he was here to explore, learn what if any plants where edible, and what the local wildlife was like. Even if it meant going hungry for a day, something he hoped to avoid.

EXP:

Inventory:

Clothing: Loin cloth

Weapons: Crude Wooden Cudgel

Acquired Skills:

Titles:

Blessings:

Curses:

[Assistant]
Goblin Zats
Day three continued

When he saw Gina sprint into action Zats followed suit. He had just enough time to realize that his partner was focusing on the wounded rabbit to avoid crashing into her. Hoping that the other one was still disoriented he went after the victor, not slowing down to think cause that might give his prey time to react.

Fortunately he ended up behind the rabbit and thus away from the pointy end. Standing hunched over he brought his rock down as hard as he could, hoping to crush the animal's skull in one go.

EXP:

Inventory: Loincloth

Acquired Skills:

Titles:

Blessings:

Curses:


[System]
Age:
29

Occupation:
Pawnshop Owner

Personality Traits:
Cold | Animal Lover (when no one is looking) | Straight to the point | Neat Freak

[User]
The day was...dull. Olivia hated dull days. They always went by so slowly. No matter how many things she got done and how productive she was, the clock always felt like it was ticking by at a snail's pace. And no matter what she did to keep busy, the clock would not change how fast it was going.

Then there was there was the fact that the reason Olivia was even a pawn shop owner in New York City was for the interesting bits of life that managed to find it's way to her shop. Like the couples that would barge in before closing in a rush to buy whatever piece of jewelry she had to offer so they could elope. Or the teenagers that wandered in thinking the shop would be a good place to practice their stealing. She even enjoyed the angry strangers that would come along with stories of how a family member pawned something of theirs.

Today, the customers were normal. No new stories to share and definitely nothing interesting about them make the day good or bad.

At the moment, Olivia was taking advantage of the dull and quiet day to organize her inventory. She was rather particular about the way she presented her shop. She wanted her customers to feel comfortable, while also keeping her shop spotless and items placed exactly right. Olivia somehow managed to keep the shop from looking like an indoor garage sale, which she thought was a pretty impressive feat, though she had her doubts others saw it that way.

Olivia looked at the clock. An hour before closing. She gave an audible sigh and placed another old book on the shelf. At least the day was almost done.

[Assistant]
The knock at the window went unheard a few times, along with the muffled voice on the other side, which was anything but pleased. A sharp tap on the glass with the tip of a 9mm handgun definitely did the trick though, as the short-haired driver awoke from a dead sleep, their eyes opening wide to see the man in a navy blue business suit standing outside.

"Shit…" The driver grunted under their breath as tired eyes were rubbed under black RayBans, enough for the mascara around sky blue eyes to smear just a little against olive-toned skin.

"Roll down the fuckin' window." The muffled -but understood- voice of the other demanded, surveying the area for a moment before looking back at the driver, who was adjusting their black, tattered motorcycle jacket which smelled of old leather and motor oil.

"Now."

"Okay, okay, chill man." The driver mumbled as they cranked the window all the way down. There were very little modern amenities with the car, which was a sleek black 1969 Chevrolet Chevelle SS. Rebuilt by the driver over the course of several years, from junk, to a stylish piece of art, and a beast of an eight-cylinder engine. Most of what was used were refurbished, but original, parts which were hard enough to come by. All in all, it was the most prized possession of the one driving it. It was definitely considered their baby.

"I assume you missed the three phone calls and several text messages?" The man asked, his voice stern as though being reprimanded by a disapproving father. The other looked down at their phone and realized it was true.

"Look, I'm sor-"

"We don't need your excuses, Joss." The man leaned over with a hand propped on the door, and adjusted his eyeglasses. "But you need to get your shit together or you're out, capisce?"

Working for an Italian crime family in New York City felt like working for all the cliche mobster films rolled in one. Sure, they treated you well when you did your job, but you had to endure some of the oddest characters. Some worse than others. This guy, however, was more or less in the middle of that spectrum, but Joss knew there were no real friends in their line of work, just assholes and lesser assholes.

"Yeah, I get it." They signed, lighting up a cigarette that had been sitting on the dash for awhile, and taking a long drag."

"Jesus girl, why do you still smoke those things. Don't you know they can kill ya?" The older man smirked, his yellowed tobacco-stained teeth peaking through dark lips.

" 'They.' 'Them.' 'Driver.' Or just call me by my name." Joss interjected.

"What?"

"Don't call me 'girl'." The other said, blowing smoke out the window and into the man's face.

"Fuck's sake, yeah, I forgot about that 'non-binary' bullshit." The man shook his head. "Look, I'll call you whatever you want as long as you're on time tonight. Remember. Sonny's over on twenty-third. Eleven sharp."

And with that, the man tapped the hood of the car and walked away across the street, disappearing around a corner. Joss checked the time, barely quarter to eight in the morning, so still plenty of time to grab some breakfast, head home and shower, and possibly sleep off the rest of the lingering hangover from the night before. The engine roared to life, and moments later, the car and driver were gone.

[User]
Olivia walked slowly around her shop, examining every item on the shelves and every piece of furniture. She ran her hand along the bindings of old books and inspected old television screens for dust. She knew she would hardly find any, she cleaned the shop every night after closing, but it was important for her to check again.

Once the shop had been properly inspected, she went to the backroom and took note of inventory. She did her best to keep most stuff out front, but some had to go in storage until she made room or found the right space for it. She spent some time making plans for her stuff and making sure items that were pawned were still in good condition for the owners to get retrieve them if she got her money.

Finally, she grab her papers and planner and leave the house for the cafe across the street. The nice old couple that owned it were very sweet and didn't mind her taking up a table for a while in the morning. She ordered herself a small coffee and a blueberry muffin and sat her usual seat by the window.

The coffee and muffin were immediately pushed off to the side and she quickly pulled her long silver hair out of her face. She paused for a moment when she felt the point to her ears, she contemplated keeping her hair down to hide them. Then her hair would get in the way of her work. That wouldn't do. She figured the people around her wouldn't notice anyway, her ears weren't extremely pointed.

She finally opened her planner after getting her hair out of her face and jotted down her usual to do list. She made note of those late on payments and those that were due today. She made note of follow ups and those whose debts would not be collected easily.

Then came her other paperwork. She thumbed through her contracts. The real side of her business. She gave a smile thinking of all of those that owed her and had no idea what was coming to them. She'd make sure to collect soon, since it seemed like almost time to return home anyway.

[Assistant]
The roads were busy as usual for a morning commute through lower Manhattan, and Joss wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed again. Their schedule was all fucked from the last few weeks of working a few different jobs, as well as being the errand monkey for the Esposito family of tax-evaders, extortioners, and all around assholes. It was a tough gig for sure, and there was little room for error, but the pay made it worth the effort.

Aside from work as a "driver", Joss also had been working part-time as a mechanic at a local auto shop. Something that they had a knack thanks to both a dad and uncle who were major gearheads.

With breakfast on the mind and the stomach, Joss stopped at Hector's, a little cafe on 27th that was one of their favorite places, parking across the street in the small lot near a gas station to keep from having to parallel park and risk getting yet another scratch on the Chevelle's midnight black paint. They ran a finger across the fresh blemish on the driver-side door, which happened only yesterday, and cringed at the sight, before turning to walk toward the cafe mumbling profanities.

On the other side, Joss noticed Olivia sitting near the front window and their heart jumped. It was happiness every time she was around, and they missed her a lot. It had been almost two days since they had both hung out, partly because of the workload given to the Driver, but mostly just sucky timing. Either way, it was an awesome feeling to be near a longtime friend.

"Wuttup bitch?" Joss smirked, taking a seat across from her and staring through dark sunglasses at the other who seemed preoccupied with work. "That's a hell of a workload."

They just loved pointing out the obvious.

"Hey chica, welcome back." One of the servers came up to the table. "What can I get ya?"

"Um, coffee. Definitely. And, how about a breakfast sandwich on an everything bagel." The platinum blonde driver nodded, happy with their selection, and gave the server a smile. "Thank you."

"Sooooo…" Joss stretched their arms across the table and fidgeted with some of the papers and anything else that would catch Olivia's attention. "What ya been up to?"

[User]
Olivia got sucked into one of her contracts as she absentmindedly picked apart her muffin. She recently started offering something less tangible and more magical. Those people desperate enough to pawn their valuables tend to be interested in doing anything that may help the situation. And she was willing to help for a trade. The trade involved things like their most prized possession which was never really an object.

The contract she was looking at at the moment was a rather simple one. The man was in a tight spot, having lost his job. He desired to make ends meet and keep his wife and children fed. Olivia offered to help with that. She gave him good luck and prosperity for his most prized possession. Sadly, the man thought she'd want his high school football trophy that he proudly displayed on his mantle. That was not the case. Olivia wanted his teeth. See, the guy had perfect teeth and wonderful smile. He was even quite charming, but that smile was what got that man his wife, his job and plenty of other things. That was his prized possession.

She wondered if one set would be enough or if she should take the wife's teeth too. She was sure to get a nice price for them from a tooth fairy. Or she could put them to use some other way.

Olivia was taken out of her thoughts when she heard that voice again. Joss. She thought she had gotten rid of them the last time they talked. It seemed like they were not taking a hint from Olivia being cold or distant. And even with no reply from her, they sat down at her table.

She was just going to ignore them, when they started to mess with her things. Olivia placed a firm hand on her papers that were being messed with. Her eyes barely glanced at Joss before going back to the paper in her hand. "Please, don't do that. I'm busy and you're going to mess up my organization."

[Assistant]
Joss didn't quite take cues as you would think someone would from another who apparently didn't want them around. However, they both had been friends for as long as could be remembered, so the Driver only assumed Olivia was merely in a foul "mood" due to work-related stress.

"Yeah, yeah." Joss sighed, never really taking their friend all that seriously. I mean, going through boring papers couldn't have been much fun for anyone. "You lead an exciting life."

While they weren't especially good at conveying their emotions, Joss had a thing for Olivia, ever since that one kiss a few years back that made things awkward, but also made them think that there could be so much more to their relationship beyond the friend zone. But it also seemed that Olivia was always busy, or simply never around, which made it much harder to actually do anything.

"I miss you, Liv." The other finally said, fidgeting with their fingers anxiously just before the food arrived, and was set down near the edge of the table. Joss took a few sips of the coffee, making an almost sensual moaning sound as they tasted the bit of chocolate infused into the drink. "Holy shit, I am so in love with their coffee like everytime."

Unwrapping the breakfast sandwich, Joss looked up at their friend, who apparently was still enveloped into their work, and then looked back down at the sandwich before taking a few bites. "So…" They said with a mouthful. "When are we going to hang out again?"

It had been ages since they both hung out, maybe almost a year or so, if memory served. Joss had been busy over the last year, making runs for various clients, picks-up, drop-offs, and of course, the handful of times they'd park outside a bank or jewelry store waiting to drive off with passengers who had just robbed those very places. There was never anything glamourous about their career, but it paid, and paid well nevertheless. Joss was a great driver, and their employers -as well as the competition- knew it.

[User]
Olivia had immediately gone back to work after her papers were no longer being messed with. She had taken to fiddling with her pen in the other hand as she scanned over the wording of the contracts. They had to be so carefully worded, but that was one of her strengths.

It had become almost natural to tune out Joss, that it felt like they weren't even there. Olivia had heard a word they had said and was just absentmindedly clicking her pen and reading her documents.

It was only during the pause in Joss's talking that made Olivia finally look up. She had hoped maybe they had left, but was disappointed to see the opposite. It was much easier to get Olivia's family to leave her alone than this person.

She looked back down at her notes deciding it may be easier to just go back home. So, she started stacking her stuff and putting things away. "Sorry, I'm just really busy."


[System]
Alias : Dream-scape
Age : 26
Gender : Female
Allegiance : Hero
Image:

Written Description: Lavender hair rested against her shoulder blades, her matching purple eyes staring into space. Her slender frame showed signs of undernourishment and her skin seemed to glow faintly like moonlight. She was soft spoken and often lost in her own world, forgetting the simple things like to eat or sleep. Her clothing choices were light and flowy dresses, nothing constricting and it was rare to see shoes on her feet.

Power Set (only one power per character) : Illusionist- Can create illusions ranging from basic to advanced based on the time spent and concentration required each. "Unrealistic" Illusions are easily broken. Manipulation of illusions required constant concentration (eg, To have an illusionary bird fly around, requires Tamria to be concentrating on only it). Unsustainable illusions (Those not currently being concentrated on) will cease to exist once interacted with (eg, someone touches an illusionary brick wall, it fells like air and fades to nothing). If the Illusion is being focused on, it appears real to anyone unsuspecting that it may be an illusion. (Eg, Concentrating on a brick wall illusion, It looks and feels exactly like a brick wall to a human, but if a villain suspecting it is an illusion hit is, it would quickly fade to nothing).

Background story (where was your character born ? How did he become a hero/villain ? How was he caught ?) : Born in Southern California, Tamria's childhood was sheltered. Her parents kept her mostly locked inside her house. They told her that she was gifted and that there were people who might wish her harm. She was home schooled and struggled to control her powers, often creating illusions subconsciously. Her parents struggled to understand her powers, choosing to place more and more restrictions on her until their daughter had shriveled away to a shell of a human. She barely spoke, left her room or ate, choosing instead to live in a world she had created inside her mind. It wasn't until she was well into her late teens that her parents lightened their restrictions under advice from Tamria's therapist. Unfortunately her years of social isolation made it difficult for her to return to normal society.
It was only 6 months after her parents accepted her for who she was and allowed her to leave the house that the sickness hit. There is not much from that time period she remembers, all she knows is that everything was dark for a long time and then eventually she got better.
After this time, Tamria grew in confidence, convinced that there was a reason she survived. Preferring to work with other heroes in a supporting role, she struggled on her own.
For awhile she worked closely with another hero, Wrecking Ball. She always thought his name was rather silly and he was far too full of himself but he was sweet to her and his super strength got the job done. Until one day it didn't. Tamria had been working as part of a group tackling a rouge group of villains. She had been foolish and began conjuring illusions in the open and one of the villains must have spotted her. Everything she created faded and even those she concentrated on where ignored or destroyed. Soon she collapsed from mental exhaustion and flickered in and out of consciousness as she watched The Wrecking Ball lay there bleeding out and her body was dragged away from him by someone that she couldn't see. Some time after she awoke in a hospital surrounded by the remainder of heroes part of the division of The Collective. The mentioned something about an attempted kidnapping, and that when they retrieved her, all her wounds had attempted to be treated. Tamria remembered nothing.
Tamria had taken a leave of absence from the collective when the aliens attacked. The over use of her power and mental exaustion had began to cause memory loss. There was little she could do to defend herself and even her illusion copies of herself were no match to their technology.

Nemesis (the alias and username) : The Infamous
Nemesis's story (how did they meet ? who won ? etc. This should be coordinated with the player that is your nemesis) : (refer to backstory)

[User]
Annabelle never allowed herself to get our of shape or practice, she was not going to rot in here, one day she would get the opportunity to bolt. She was sure of it, though she was slowly losing her will to fight. The only thing that kept her going was knowing Kyle or rather The Red Demon was somewhere near her, constantly badgering her about various things such as the fact that she too got caught or many other things. This allowed her to remained active, despite her starving body screaming at her to stop. When the alarm was tripped she had been taking a break, meditating, clearing her mind of everything and simply focusing on her mind, body, and soul. She had almost perfected the art of meditating in the time she had been in here, able to easily block out the outside world, the fact that the alarm was tripped and managed to get through her little trance surprised her.

She stood and headed for the bars of her cell trying to see the cause of the alarm being tripped. It was then that she heard a voice instructing them to put their hands through the bars. She was hesitant at first but after a moment she complied. Rolling her eyes at the words of another in a cell near her. His pride was going to cost him one day and calling this woman who risked her life to save them a wench, she wanted to punch the guy in the face with a heated fist. Though clearly that would have to wait for the collar to come off, if it ever did. She was teleported out of her cell and felt sick. She shook her head and steadied herself before the feeling went away. She looked toward where she heard Kyle's voice and chuckled a little.

"What's the matter Demon, can handle a little nausea?" She teased, though she knew if she had anything in her body to throw up she would have done so.

[Assistant]
Silence, It was a comfortable peacefulness that some prisons had, besides the occasional of screaming and strange noises as they dragged someone off from their cell it wasn't a bad place to sit down and think. Not including, of course, the fact that Ollie was lying on the stone cold ground. He hated the mattress; he always felt that using it meant that the aliens had won. Ollie understood it was vain, but when a person has not seen the light of day in what seemed like months, you have to take every win you could get, well at least until he could get out of this wretched place. Not to mention the irregular timings and how much he received, He was confident that he wouldn't even give it half a star on trip advisor. The only thought that would stop him tearing it down was the damn collar on his neck.

Ollie was mid-thought when the alarm tripped. He would've jumped with joy if he had not been so damn tired, had one of his contacts finally come to retrieve him from this place of torment? "Thankyou, Miss Portal," he said extending his hands through the bars; "I do believe that in this type of facility a 'shitstorm' as you refer to it as Would be an understatement." He teleported through And fell to one knee for a second, before partially regaining his strength. The method of teleportation seemed different to that of his own, though he certainly preferred his approach it was interesting to gain knowledge of over methods. He looked around seeing the other superpowered beings; It certainly was going to be an exciting day. "So then Miss Portal, in which direction will we be running from this so called shitstorm?"

[User]
Quinton paced back and forth inside the cell. His taut, defined frame didn't befall one who, had he not been restrained, would fly into a rage and freeze over this entire prison. Alarm snares didn't bother him so much as the questions which ran through his head:

Why now?

Who is this woman?

All of his pondering was in some way beside the matter. All importance fell upon the fact that he was free, and soon he would see the world again; perhaps he would even return to Cabrini-Green, amass a militia! Defeat the infidels! Take over th--okay, maybe a bit too zealous. Nonetheless, he was transported out of his cell and there he stood, sights pinned on others mere inches to a few feet away from him--all, he presumed, were powered. This block was where they kept all the creeps like himself. Well, now they were all free from their cells, but how were they going to get out of a prison infested with the same aliens who captured and brought them here in the first place? Time to wait and see.

[Assistant]
"If I Ever Leave This World Alive"

Eleven Days Ago...

The roguishly handsome form of The Infamous D'ren Connor McDonnell shimmered into visibility on a bar stool beside his ex-girlfriend, a blond with telekinetic powers. He took the glass of whiskey she slid his way. Kassandra Stirling didn't even look at him, but he never took his eyes off her as he sipped the beverage.

"I've been livin' in caves and sewers for months," the Irishman groused, "and when I come out into the open, ya can't even look at me?" He set down the half empty glass, a look that resembled a mixture of resentment and lust.

Kassandra turned to him and stoically stated, "I don't owe you anything, Daren. What do you want? Why are you here?" Her tone was Oklahoman.

The resentment pushed aside the lust and he leaned forward, cocking his head to the side. "I didn't feckin' ask ye fer shite. I just came to warn ye the Skats are comin'..."

At first Kassandra was unsure of what he meant, but since she knew that often attributed slurs to people and things he didn't particularly like, it didn't take long for her to realize he meant Skits. She swiftly stood, her seat nearly knocked over.

"When?" she asked fearfully, raising her hands slightly in a defensive posture as she glanced nervously over her shoulder at the entrance.

"Oh don't worry," said The Infamous as he stood up, drawing one of his dual Colt .45 handguns. "I won't let 'em take ya."

It wasn't that she couldn't have prevented him from shooting her in the chest three times; it was simply that she didn't actually think he'd do it. After all, he could easily make her invisible...

Kassandra collapsed on the scuffed wooden floor, and the bartender and few patrons in the bar bolted for the exit. Left alone in the bar, D'ren set his pistol on the counter and returned to his drink. Kassandra was sputtering and choking on her own blood, pathetically reaching up toward her former lover as tears rolled down her pained face. He glanced down at her and sighed, hearing the Skits coming for the door. D'ren placed the gun behind the counter.

"Sorry love," D'ren said as he once again stood up, this time unceremoniously stepping over her as she took her last few breaths, "but ye're not me girl no more."

Casually strolling over to the coat rack by the front door, D'ren grabbed his black leather duster and put it on. He'd confiscated the coat off a dead British officer, one he'd killed personally. The duster came to just past his knees, and looked rugged from combat and time. D'ren walked over to the back of the bar and turned on some music before he drew both his other sidearm and a K-bar combat knife. Then he just waited for them to come...

Present

Unlike most of the prisoners, D'ren was completely fine with being left isolated for several days. In fact, he'd hoped to be left in the cell for a lot longer; contemplation, reflection, and simply enjoying his fantasies was a lot more interesting than anything in this world, pre- or post-apocalypse.

So when Portal teleported in and started talking to everyone, he groaned and sat down on the floor at the back of his cage. Dressed in practically prison rags, D'ren leaned his disheveled dark hair against the wall behind him and propped his arms over his raised knees.

When Portal came to his cell last, D'ren just glowered at her murderously. "I don't touch people...unless I'm doin' 'em." He grinned. "And by 'doin',' I mean killin'...usually. I'm sure we can make an exception for ya, hot stuff."

He glanced to the right and left conspiratorially before whispering, "Ye do know half of us are super-villains right?"

[User]
The Red Demon

Red Demon straightened himself, groaning and brushing himself off, all while glaring at Therma. He did not need her drama right now, especially with all that is going on. He looked down at himself, sizing himself up at the moment. He was wearing a prison orange jumpsuit with the number #0217 stitched on to the right hand corner of the chest part of his jumpsuit. When he was captured by the alien invaders he was being held at a secret, or so it was suppose to be, government prison where only the most ruthless and terrorizing super villains. It was equipped with special equipment meant to damper the powers of the super powered prisoners to some degree, so that they were more manageable. Seeing his jumpsuit he was reminded of how he obtained it, how he was defeated and sent to prison thanks to Therma.

"Don't tempt Annie, I may not like teleportation but I am over the effects of the virus."

Suddenly he flew into a fit of gagging, an after effect of the teleportation. When he calmed himself he glared again at Therma.

"Eat a d**k"

Red Demon was recently infected with a super powerful virus that had spread throughout the world, killing most of the super powered people it infected. He was one of the few that had survived the sickness, and when he and his nemesis last met she had defeated him while he was in a severely weakened state. His constructs were barely physical, his beams were barely destructive, and his punches felt like they had next to no weight in them. He spent the last month in prison recovering his bearings, and now that he was out of that maximum security prison and now out of the alien holding cell he finally had a chance to confront Therma again. They had not spoken or seen each other since their last confrontation where they learned each others secret identities and found out that they used to be friends, her being his childhood friend and him being her best friend.

Red Demon looked around, seeing the other captured humans being freed and looked at Portal. He instantly disliked her, simply because he hated teleportation.

[Assistant]
Her barely conscious body lay in a heap on the floor as the remainder of the inmates were teleported from their cells and into the hall. She tried her hardest to stand up, but her legs were too weak to support her slight frame and her head continued to spin. If she had been in a better mental state, she may have regretted only half eating the small amounts of food provided to them. The time spent neglecting her physical body had paid its price. The malnutrition, lack of sleep and mental exertion showed on her face.

She hoped that someone would hear her above the alarm sounding and other commotion as she spoke barely above a whisper, the loudest she could manage at the time.

"Please don't leave me here"

Worried that perhaps she was drowned out by the screeching alarm, she use what strength she could muster to reach out and grab the closest persons leg and look up at them helplessly.


[System]
Height/Weight: 5'9'', 135 lbs.
Age: 28

Personality: Once full of a youthful bluster and passion, Freya is more like a burned out husk these days. She seems more engaged in gambling away her excess earnings or checking out the local eateries than actually performing justice. How she still has her position is no mystery: she barely keeps her monthly adjudication quota, and whenever assigned an objective, it's met for frequently than not. Despite rumors, her division has yet to fail an inspection, surprise or otherwise.

Home Island/Sea: Kenbutsu Island, Grand Line

History: "For Justice!"

For so many of her years, that simple mantra was Freya's code. Her meaning. Her way of life. It wasn't something she could put into words, and while her attempts satisfied whoever wanted to know, it never satisfied her. But if she couldn't put 'Justice' into words then it would have to be actions. She trained in combat and naval scholarly reading, often holding a book as she did simple exercises. Her diet was bland but efficient. She even got training from some local veterans, who were impressed with her diligence. By the time she was 16 she'd been admitted into Officer Academy, graduating one year early at age 19 as an Ensign.

As she sailed, her duties were never the only thing on her mind. Back home, she left an often bedridden father and a hardworking mother with unstable enployment, but now that she was an officer, they would continue to be supported through the Government's various programs. As the years went on, promotions seeming like yearly events, her parents became less and less of a worry for her as their lodgings and benifits got higher with Freya's rank.

And yet, as the years waned on, Freya being challenegd by stronger pirates, not even her actions seemed to be doing her ill-defined mantra the justification she felt it might deserved. Then, after a nasty strike cut her from cheek to shoulder, she spent much of her medbay visit wondering 'why'? She'd seen 'pirates' who fought for their families with as much fervor as Freya ever had, and she'd seen Marines engage in dealings that would make the average thief blush. Freya had been helpless when it came to trying to put Justice in to words or actions, but now she couldn't even figure out what it felt like.

Now at the Captain rank, with enough of a salary that she and her family back home could live comfortable, Freya, now past marrying age for that matter, let her once stellar record slip. Before it went too far, she was able to get reassigned: a move that was deemed worthwhile with the recent boom in piracy, as, in theory, Freya could cut back at it in its source. Truth be told, the East's reputation as 'the weakest, most peaceful sea' appealed to her, and so she sails, presently without purpose.

Fruit: N/A

Abilities/Race Traits: Decent navigation skills and notable leadership abilities, both often overshadowed by her slothful nature.

Fighting Style: Freya keeps a simple sword with her often. She's physically strong and very capable, which is accented by her abilities in Armament and Observation Haki. Stone is no obstacle for her blade and thin enough steel can rend or shatter under a well place Haki laden strike.

Ship Positions: Navigator of the Golden Fleece Pirates

Bounty: N/A

[User]
RED HOOD PIRATES

---

Bogard D. Sunny x Loguetown x Obtaining a Bloody First Mate
@CannedBread @BCTheEntity @Hillan @RyoRyoRyoken @Tmitche23 @j8cob

Kanki died but not before rampaging and taking down a lot of the marines in the process. Bullets had flew through the Fishman riddling his flesh with messy holes. He held a bundle of marines in his hands, some was hung around him like thick vines, as he died. A current of electricity arced off of him and into the white and blue crowd. He fell back onto his side with a few hundred pounds of bodies surrounding him. The blue lightning bolted through the crowd again, the last remains of his body's natural weapon firing in excess.

---

Bogard's cloak of red whiplashed in front of him; repelling lead bullets from touching him with inhuman speed and reflexes. Below him he could hear Dirk's claims. The resulting screams afterwards would prove them true. I knew there was something interesting about him.

It was a blue flash and a tingling in the air that drew his attention towards a staid mound of bodies. It was pretty large hill of blue and white, of splotches and stains of red that was dyed within them, and… and of a broad sickly green form beneath it all. Disbelief crept into his heart, followed by a anger and rage that was tempered with the marines below, begging for his attention. Their bullets were rude, unknowing, insensitive friends to his grief-worthy news. And it enraged him.

 "Red-Red Branch Art," bellowed Red Hood as he looked for vengeance in excess.

His cloak whipped away the last remains of the bullets that would have hit him before thinning and rocketing off into the hostile crowd. It burst through the first marine, fracturing the ground and spouting grey dust into their midst with the impact behind it. Red Hood could see the tendril of red sliding through his flesh. Within the span of two seconds branches of red punctured, gashed, and impaled the marines nearby from that singular line.

A warm, horrendous rain fell onto the street. The blood of the countless marines fell from their uplifted bodies, their groans echoing darkly. A deep red, a beautiful red was in front of him now.

He felt his heart palpitate, his breathing heave deep but quiet.  "Seventeen of your marines for the life of one of mines. That seems fair to me." he muttered, eyes shifting towards the harbor.

His red cloak slithered from out the numerous marines, through the first victim, and back to him. He donned it once more, immersed his features in its hood and frowned, the gold of his eyes warning the now frightened survivors.

While they tried to wrap their heads around what they just saw, Bogard used his devil fruit abilities to high-tail it towards the port. The cloak's tail ends stretched beneath his foot falls in mid-air, acting as bridges to the next roof if it was too far.

Bogard pulled the mini transponder snail from his pocket. The poor creature had been killed in his rage; it laid in his palm mushed and straightened to a thin, gruesome line. He threw it to the ground with a growl and instead started out to find Jax himself.

 "Damn it all, Jax where'd you go?

---

[Assistant]
T H E M A R I N E S
99TH DIVISION

Johnny

Interacting with:

John had changed back into his regularly clothes, he had left the jacket, and put his hat back on, even grabbed his pistols again. He was now Johnny again, his posture back to the goofy spaghetti-western posture he had before. He watched as the Squad of Marines escorted the captured Xerxes towards a transport ship, it was heavily guarded, no one would be able to get onto that ship, so he wouldn't have to worry. Now, he instead had to go help his friends, check on Monkeyman, Zeep and Freya.

He materialized in smoke, landing next to Anaru, whom was now knocked out cold. "Phew! That was scary! He exclaimed, stretching. Getting just about disintegrated and having to regather yourself from dust? Not a fun time! Johnny said, grinning. He looked at Anary, kicking him in the arm "You dead?" He asked, and a soft grumble escaped from the Primate-Marine. He took that as a no, and went along. He looked over at their ship - more like, what remained of it.

"..The fuck happened, Captain?" Jonny asked Freya, whom seemed more than a little exhausted. Or should I call you 'Dragon Slayer Sir Freya' Now? He joked, looking at the knocked out Ancient Zoan laying on their deck. Two of the marines were scurrying back onto their feet. Johnny nodded at them. You should probably like, cuff him, before he wakes up. That would be pretty bad for u- well, you guys, at least. The Ensign laughed, as he looked at Freya. You okay, boss? He asked, this time genuinely a bit concerned for his Captain.

However, his concern ended once he heard a brief wizzing to the side of him, the sound got louder, prompting him to turn around, getting a bit surprised at the scythe - now 50 meters big - coming towards them, and it was only growing in size. Johnny looked at Freya, then back at the Scythe, then he grunted something along the lines of "Fuck it", turning into smoke, he darted towards one of the cannonballs that laid on the deck, using his Rocket Boost ability, he gained altitude, able to match that of the Scythes, "SMOKE SMOKE NICOTINE ROCKET CANNON FIRE" He shouted, as his elbow was replaced by the same type of afterburn that covered his legs, enhancing his speed with his throw, improving his strength. The cannonball hit the handle of the scythe, altering it's course. But it wouldn't be enough to make it stay out of the way of the ship. He needed help, but a certain black-shade moving on the scythe, in the corner of Johnny's eyes gave him all the certainty he'd need, as he fell down towards the ship, grabbing onto a rope as he fell, holding onto it he caused friction burns on his hands as he slid down next to Freya, rolling on the floor, blowing on his hands.

"OW OW OW" The Ensign shouted.

G O L D E N F L E E C E P I R A T E S

Sancho F. Graham
Kingslayer

Loguetown, East Blue.

Interacting with:

Heading into the Docs, the ruckus behind them seemed to be dying down - in more ways than one. Sancho looked at his crew. Which of these fine vessels should we take, then? He asked, rhetorically. They had used a small gunboat before, keeping what few belongings in capsacks that were on their old boat - that was also docked at the harbor. He looked at the Fishwoman and nodded. Can you grab our things? Sancho asked, he then pointed on the biggest ship in the Harbor, it was a Marine Galleon, the second biggest-classed ship in the Navy arsenal, and the biggest one to patrol the Blues. He grinned. He had ridden a Galleon many times back home on Shinra, as it was their only real Warship, and he had quickly learned how to manage one, all part of his training at the hands of Granticus.

"We're taking this one." Sancho said, smiling a sly smile. The ship was branded "Blind Justice", and it would suit The Golden Fleece pirates just fine. there were four guards standing outside, leaning on their rifles, or against the lamp-posts neat the landing. It was poorly defended because the Marines were all in town, and they probably assumed nobody was crazy enough to try and steal one of their vessels.

Sancho grinned, motioning for Church to stand still. Upon seeing the golden-haired young man, they picked up their posture and loosely-held onto their guns. "Who are you?" One of them asked, and Sancho smiled, flicking his wrists.

"The new captain."

The Wool Wool Whip-Technique rung out of his coat as he slapped the four of them with two whips coming out of his arms, the tightly knit wool was harder than wood as it was flicked at them, hard enough to knock all four of them into the water. "Church, check if anyone else is on board, and toss them overboard." Sancho said, he was heading into the Captain's Cabin, to take a look before Samehana arrived, and they would set sail. The Captain's Cabin was located after the brig, which Sancho decided to check out, where any prisoners would be held. There, he found one young man in the holding cell. Sancho looked at him with a weird look. He paced around the Brig, the bars were metal - he thought. He grabbed a hold of them and felt woozy, his powers draining from him as he stumbled backwards.

"Damn seastone.." Sancho grunted, holding his head. "Who are you?" Sancho asked the man in the jail-cell. Sure, Sancho himself was a pirate and a criminal, by the eyes of the law, but he still despised most others who were seen the same way. They would still be criminals once Sancho's dream came true. Therefor, he wasn't gonna set some punk criminal who had hurt innocent people free, unless he had a damn good reason to.

[User]
"You okay, boss?"

Freya flopped down on her back as Jackal was being taken away, kept in chains. She sighed, "Look at this mess. Just looking at it makes me so...tired. We have one ship even close to seaworthy and even then its only barely...more importantly though there's all the casualties. And the wounded. We should probably get on that as soon as possible." Letting out a groan, she stood up, grunting as her side throbbed. That tail got her good...

Before she could get to work, however, it seemed the Sunny Molasses Pirates weren't done with yet. Johnny moved first, meeting the massive scythe midair. It wouldn't be enough though. Freya charged forwards, reading the lines of the scythe's path. It's sweeping arc made a clear danger zone swirling its way to the ship, the path marked by the inner side of the blade. As she caught a flash from Zepp's direction, she took a few steps to the side, turning as the scythe came to cut her rear. Blade met blade, but the one enshrouded by Haki won out, denting the iron of the blade. Her arms winced under the strike, but the two blows were still not quite enough to stop it.