[System]
Identity: Lady Cthulhu

City of Operation: Pheonix Arizona

Appearance: Normally seen wearing a kimono often colored green. Beneath the kimono she has what looks like a large Cthulhu tattoo on her entire back.

Age: 34

Gender: Female

Superpowers: Cythlla has the ability to summon the tentacles of Cthulhu, along with much of it's powers. She can make them do what she wishes, however using these over the years has come at the cost of her sanity.
Cythlla not only has the power to summon and use the tentacles of Cthulhu but also the ability to spread a mist of sorts that will make anyone who inhales it go insane.
Cythlla may also grow wings and fly, yet this will make her go into a very crazed state where she will attack whatever is in front of her.

Skills/ Talents: Cythlla can speak English, Japanese, and Mandarin. She is also very talented when it comes to running a criminal empire. She would have spread it beyond Pheonix by now if it weren't for six guns.

Equipment: Cythlla has a knife attached to her inner thigh, she also keeps a pistol inside of her kimono for when needed, though she rarely uses it herself as her victims often shoot themselves when they come in contact with her mist.

Weaknesses: Despite Cythlla being in contract with a half man half octopus, Cythlla can't actually swim. She is also insane and tends to make stupid mistakes when she goes into her insane state of mind.

Psyche: Cythlla views the world as something for her to conquer and control. At least through the use of drugs. She worships Cthulhu even and offers up sacrifices to him regularly.

History: Cythlla was born to an American mother, and a Japanese father. She was raised in Japan for about 10 years before moving to America to be with her mother. She had learned many of the cultures of her father, and on the outside she lived a rather normal life. Except for the part where her parents were both cultist that worshipped Cthulhu. She was even named after the supposed daughter of Cthulhu.
At around the age of 14 she was given a large tattoo of Cthulhu onto her back. At point she became able to wield the powers of Cthulhu himself. Although this is very taxing on her sanity. At around the age of 20 she started to build a criminal empire within Pheonix. She almost took over the city if it weren't for Sixgun.

[User]
"Ah, I have read even the tabloids, though I take usually with grain of salt... But, you know, every bit of information comes in handy. But I cannot say I am not very hopeful that the Professor's drinking problem is real and not the exaggerated checkout trash. Would so love to see how it affects his ability to use mind powers." He smiles and grunts deeply once or twice. Presumably a small chuckle at the hypothetical situation.

Ibor took another bite of chicken and chewed thoughtfully for a moment.

"I would like to be one of the peoples you send to meet this Argus. The public know my name, but I assume the costume draws more attention than the face. Nobody recognize me yet. It would draw not much attention if I were to arrive in the destination with some others in street clothes also... If they would be willing?"

He tosses a casual glance toward his new compatriots with a mild hint of skepticism in his eyes.

[Assistant]
Broker sat there while Ted stood. Both were a little frozen that they were just completely ignored. By the stiffness in Ted's body, she knew he was dying for direction. But she didn't give him anything. After a few seconds he made up his own mind. He turned and extended a hand to help Broker to her feet. She gave a small nod of her head. Not out of thanks, even though that was how it looked, but of agreement he was making the right decision.

If Cesare was intent on ignoring them, Broker could play at that game too. She knew names and faces. That was worth so much more than most people realized. She also knew two more names. Names of possible rivals for Cesare's little band of evil. Ted lead the way out of the pew, then Broker took the lead. Keeping Ted between her and potential danger. She still wanted to pay Argus a visit. Anyone who had information on the "good guys" was worth meeting. She might no longer be meeting on Cesare's behalf. But that didn't negate her own needs.

If Argus knew anything about Mixtape, she'd pay handsomely for it. And if Cesare got his knickers in a twist... Well, Broker wasn't above fighting dirty. After all, be this all on his head. She was willing to play nice, if only for the moment. The two stepped back out into the cold. Broker snug in her fur coat once more. Liam appeared as if by magic. Broker's eyes cast over the spot where St. Frank had been with his men. Liam would have collected any items that might be of use. There was no longer a reason to linger.

[User]
Amon Ru-Amen

---

The levitating man briefly stopped eating, setting down his fork and knife to glare at the scene unfolding between Cesare and Saint Frank. His red eyes seemed completely unamused, finding their exchange the least bit entertaining or useful. That is until the bald, angry man mentioned a weapons deal. I see, so that is his order of business. One of the tasks he surely will be giving us. However... that man seems incompetent. Amon continued to watch Frank and his troupe as they exited the building, only after the door closed did he bother to speak again. "Vulgar filth. We used to cut the tongues off of people like him," he mentioned casually, not particularly loudly or to anyone specific but with enough volume to express his opinion on Saint Frank. Amon silenced himself again and only listened while he resumed eating, using this time to gauge the importance or relevance of everyone present.

It was only after he finished his meal did he decide to make a call on what to do. "Cesare," he spoke, setting his silverware on the plate on his lap. "I can see what kind of man you are, and what kind of men the others are." Notably he said nothing of the women. "You command attention and respect, but you are no leader." Amon took the plate in his hands and ceased levitating, putting his feet on the floor to stand like a normal person. "However... I will lend you my strength for we share a common enemy." A menacing and malicious grin took Amon's face as he shifted his gaze from Cesare to the two men that were with Saint Frank who had returned from outside. Amon held the plate in the palm of his hand and lifted it up high, brandishing it for all to see. While keeping his grin and eye-contact with the two Sunflower members, the plate suddenly ignited in an intense yellow flame. The display only lasted a few brief seconds as the plate was burned to ashes and the silverware melted, dripping down from Amon's hand onto the floor where it burned the carpet.

As the ashes scattered when the flames ceased, Amon's expression returned to a neutral state and he returned his gaze to Cesare. "I will also attend the weapon deal this evening," he announced, bringing his hand back down to his side. "Amon Ru-Amen will annihilate anyone who interferes with the business, with extreme prejudice. If that vulgar mortal and his soldiers cannot keep the situation under control then I will step in and demonstrate true power." Amon took a brief moment to look around at the other gathered men and women, making sure to look each one directly in the eyes. It was almost as if he was looking straight into their souls. "I will take leave from this meeting early in order to make preparations." The brown-skinned man brought his fists together in front of his chest, giving a slight bow in the general direction of everyone at the table. Without another word he began his casual stride to the door, making sure to lock eyes with Baba and Cliff on the way out. Of all the people that had attended, something was different about Saint Frank that Amon picked up on immediately: he was only human. That was his greatest distinction from everyone else that Cesare had called upon. And the God-King knew that humans are weak.

[Assistant]
---

Abyss

---

Between bites Lester was taking a look at the bald, apparently Russian, man who seemed to also think poorly of the media and listened more intently to the call for serious information on the heroes they would be fighting and to the response of they're host also noting that he wasn't the only one silently interested in the conversation not to mention the Russian looking at him and the others. It was not a thought that graced his mind often because he rarely thought about how much fear someone like him could strike in the public but then again he was generally self-reliant rarely having to depend on someone to help or hide him if they even could. One thing that struck him was how no one seemed to call after the obvious fun to be had in dealing with Royale Patterson, he would call him Roy out of laziness, not to mention the possible threat posed by someone like him going rogue. Knowing how drug operations and the leadership worked it wasn't like the man was untouchable even with money/means though if he was smart enough with some balls he could cause them setbacks if it came down to it and Lester hated the idea of ruining an awesome gig like this because some lackey decided he was done. It gave him one clear target that he knew would bring him some enjoyment though he would have to hold back because the boss man still wanted him in line if possible, possible being the key word for him. Watching a few more people left, the mostly silent pair who left without a word with the fancy fur coat in tow and Ali Babba The Magnificent who could float and melt things as he was eager to show it, made for a wonder for how the other jobs were going to fair with them attending. Probably shouldn't keep the boss waiting for an answer for much longer, he might not let me choose if I do.

"As much fun as that sounds friend I'd like to know more about this Roy Patterson guy. After all I would be more than willing to give him a nice reason to keep with your plan but I do like to have some specifics about my targets beforehand, I mean I could always take my time with it to find out myself but you don't seem like a waiting man." Lester spoke with more purpose and focus ending in a more wily/playful smile at first giving feedback to the Russian before moving his attention to the man of the hour Cesare.

"However, you seem like a nice enough boss so if I might get a little heads up on Night Terror's activities after this trust exercise it would be great. I can understand if maybe you aren't willing but it would make tracking him down much easier when its time to, not to mention make me a happy clam." He continued suddenly feeling like he wanted clams but immediately striking down the stray thought even if he did get a few more bites of chicken in right afterwards.

I wonder if he would actually say so or not, depends on just how much he knows about me probably. Gonna be a good job either way but gotta wonder also who else is coming with if any in case I have to work with them...or they have to work with me which seems better.

[User]
It seemed as if this wasn't really a fan meeting, but still, it looked like there was at least one fan present. A man wearing jeans and an old t-shirt. Not the usual kind of fans, but she did not mind. A fan was a fan and possibly a next meal.

"Why thank you. It's always a pleasure to meet a fan." She said to the man. (@Sombrero)

Then, more and more people started to arrive and she just quietly sat on a chair and waited for what was going to happen. She was ready to transform at any time in case something went south, and with the amount of people in the room, she was sure that she could survive for a long time just be consuming whoever was closest.

It was then that Cesare, as he introduced himself, finally appeared and started by explaining what food was available. Shame that she had just eaten. She kept hearing the man without interrupting him just to see what exactly was going on. A team against the coalition? That sounded good in her mind. If they could help her track down Cherry Bomb and find out who she really is, that would be perfect. Of course, she wasn't going to allow anyone to harm Cherry Bomb. That was a pleasure for her and her only. She wanted to say what was on her mind, but she instead decided to keep quiet and just listen to what everyone had to say and what jobs they would do. It seemed as if the people were divided between going to the weapons deal and this Argus guy. She thought that the Argus job was bad for her. The meeting would be in a public place, and if she was recognized, that could spook Argus. As for the weapons deal, guns weren't really her thing. That left the Patterson job up. She was still deciding on what she was going to do when she caught a conversation between Cesare and another men. More importantly, she heard him mention Cherry Bomb. The moment she heard the name, her skin became slightly darker. Anyone that was looking at her could have spotted this transformation. Still, she quickly calmed herself and returned her skin to normal. Once the conversation was over, it was time for her to claim what she was going to do.

"I'll talk with this Patterson guy. Seems a job suited for me." She said to Cesare. "And if anyone wants to join me, I'll be glad to have them on board." She didn't really want company, but like they used to say in Hell, never go anywhere without a prepared meal...

[Assistant]
Cythlla had spent most of her morning working with some of her underlings on making a new drug trafficking route into the city oh Pheonix. It wasn't until midday that she got a message from one of her underlings. "What's this?" Cythlla said looking at the letter. She had a criminal empire to run and going to something that could be a trap wasn't something easy for her to choose to do.

She turned to her underling from her table, holding a fan in front of her face. "I guess I can leave Bob in charge of things for now, I should get to checking this out. Ready my plane." Cythlla said to the underling who brought her the letter. Cythlla was in a sane state of mind at the moment, not many would even know she was connected to Cthulhu if it weren't for green kimono with an octopus design near the bottom.

After a rather boring flight with a delay due to weather she finally ended up at her destination. She arrived to the luncheon a bit late. But she figured that if she was going to be late she may as well create an entrance. She was fully prepared for this being a trap. As she opened the doors she flung out her arms, small portals appeared next to her summoning a few tentacles out of mid air.

"I'm not one to walk right into a trap you know! Atleast not before making this my own trap!" Cythlla exclaimed.

She had a few of her underlings with her as well. Cythlla had a crazed look on her face. Using her powers often made her go into a state of insanity, but currently it was only mild insanity. "So who's in charge here? Who do I need to kill?" Cythlla asked with a toothy grin. She had almost no idea as to what was going on.


[System]
"Life's too short to be spent fighting. Sit down and enjoy the world and nature around you instead."
Age:
14

Gender:
Female

Race:
Dhamphir

Ranking:
Bishop

Appearance:
Amelia is small, some might say tiny. Standing in at a mere four-and-a-half feet tall and weighing a little less then a girl her age should, she has a very slight build and many people think she doesn't eat enough for her age. Her vampiric heritage results in her possessing very fair, flawless skin that burns easily when exposed the sunlight, resulting in her carrying an umbrella everywhere until nighttime.

Outside of school, she tends to wear either t-shirts and jeans or sundresses in the summer, depending on her mood, and sweaters to go with her jeans in the winter. Her preferred colors appear to be shades of blue and green along with white. In the summer, she wear sandals but boots in the winter.

Skills:
Like her Master, Amelia is talented in the arts of drawing and painting and has a near photographic memory when it comes to landscapes, which are her primary subject of interest for said art. She also has a talent for gardening and takes care of several plants around the school and the teams main base of operations. She has also taken up an interest in cooking and often helps Nora, trying to make sure her fellow devil doesn't somehow hurt herself (seriously, how do you hurt yourself preparing salad?)

Sacred Gear:
None

Magic:
As a Dhampir, Amelia has access to some of the vampire race's abilities, such as the ability to control bats and use them as scouts or transforming into a swarm of them to escape a dangerous situation. However, she really shines outside of her vampiric abilities.

Amelia has a strong affinity for Elementals and is able to summons several she has formed contracts with at aid her and her peerage in battle. Her current abilities don't allow her to contract with anything as strong as a primordial-class elemental, as the strain could possibly kill her, and she is instead limited to lesser-class elementals.

Her current contracts are with a lesser earth elemental she calls Firma, who resembles several rocks joined together in a vaguely humanoid shape, standing about two feet tall. Firma is able to reinforce stone structures to make them more resilient to damage, summon and hurl large stones and earth spikes as a form of offence, and summon domes of earth to protect itself and others. She also has a lesser wind elemental she calls Aery, who is another scout she can use, taking the form visibly wind currents in the shape of a small bird. Aery has no offensive abilities, but being a creature composed of wind, is very hard to confine and can summon strong winds to slow others or redirect some projectile attacks like arrows. Amelia's final spirit is Rain, a lesser Water elemental, taking the form of a two-foot tall female humanoid composed of water from the waist up and a water spout from the waist down. Rain can use high pressured water to attack and can summon small quantities of water with healing properties to treat minor wounds.

All three elementals boast a high resistance to their element but are incredibly weak to the opposite, save Aery who need to be imprisoned in a solid container of any kind to be stopped. Rain and Firma will disappear if hit is a decent Fire or Wind attribute attack respectively.

Outside of her summons, Amelia knows all the basic Devil spells

Strengths:
At the moment, Amelia is actually rather weak and does not boast a lot of strengths, but rather potential. With her talent for summoning and affinity for elementals, she has the possibility to become a versatile and powerful asset on the battlefield. As a Bishop, she boasts powerful magical potential and given time, she could learn magic outside of her specialty.

Currently, Amelia's best strength is as an indirect scout, using her bats and Aery as a means to get a lay of the land and her enemies' locations easily without putting herself and others in harms way. She can also provide minor support with Rain and Firma but not to the extent of some of her fellow peerage members.

Weaknesses:
In terms of combat, Amelia's biggest weakness is that she is largely a non-combatant. She has no skills and hand-to-hand combat, having to rely on her transformation ability to get out of such a scenario should she find herself in one. She doesn't know any offensive or defensive magic, relying entirely on her summons to do the work for her, despite their relatively low power.

Her weaknesses in combat are compounded by her poor physical state. Amelia lacks stamina due to her preference to do more relaxing, less strenuous activities. If she is not able to use her magic, she will not last long and can likely be taken down in a matter of seconds.

Another exploitable weakness is her higher then average sensitivity to sunlight for a Dhampir. While most of her kind find sunlight simply uncomfortable, Amelia finds it outright painful and burns incredibly easily when exposed, even if it's just a form of magic mimicking sunlight.

Personality:
Amelia is a kind, gentle, and caring young girl, but also incredibly shy and low in the self-esteem department. Amelia will never talk to someone she doesn't know unless she absolutely has to. She's even hesitant to talk to her peerage and voice her opinion unless directly asked. The exception is Ixveria, whom she respects and views as an older sister figure.When she does talk her tone is often soft and low, as if she is still scared to speak her own words, and she often avoids looking at the one she is addressing. If she is feeling embarrassed or upset, she will sometimes use her umbrella to hide her face so such emotions are not shown to others.

Past the shy exterior, should one get past it, is the3 kind and gentle girl Amelia truly is. She cares greatly for the members of her peerage, who she views as her family. She will push herself as far as she can and beyond to help them, even if it comes at the expense of her own health and safety. The only time she'll hesitate in doing so is if combat is involved, as Amelia detests violence and will only take part in fighting if she absolutely has to.

Around her elementals, Amelia is much more open, finding them easier to talk to then other humanoids. She treats her contracted elementals very kindly and hates that she has to use them in combat, even though it is part of their contract. They are usually the ones that she turns to when she needs to talk about her problems, as she doesn't want to bother her 'family' with what she might view as a minor problem.

Deep inside of her, Amelia harbors a deep hatred for pure-blood vampires and their xenophobic ways. She does not view herself as subject to their orders and is secretly glad if she never hears from their for the rest of her life, unlikely as that may be.

History:
Amelia is a member of the Tepes faction of vampires, born from a one-night stand between her vampiric father and human mother. Her mother's name was Ellis Averyonna but she doesn't not know or does not care for her father's name. Shortly after her birth, her father came and took her and her mother, making them both servants in his castle. However, he did not treat either of them with respect, looking down on Ellis and viewing Amelia in an even worse light. Both were treated rather poorly in the beginning but things didn't get any better as time went on. In fact, it would be easy for one to say that they only got worse.

Amelia's father was a pure-blooded extremist and only kept her around since he had a sense of duty towards family. Her mother was nothing more then a plaything to him for that one night and a servant from Amelia's birth on. His love for his daughter was non-existent and he did not hesitate to hit her if she aggravated him in even the slightest. Ellis tried her best to protect her daughter from her father, but that was not easy to do when they lived within his own castle. As Amelia grew older, her father's temper grew shorter and him simply hitting her would escalate to him beating her when angry, even if she had done nothing to anger him herself.

Things finally reached their breaking point a year ago, when the worse case scenario occurred. The Carmilla Faction attacked her father's castle and he and his forces retaliated in kind. During the attack, Amelia and Ellis stuck together and tried to avoid all the violence. However, a they where inevitable caught up in the crossfire and Ellis died protecting her daughter from a stray magical missile. Despite hoping that it was all a dream, the young girl was forced to watch as her only supporter died in front of her.

Amelia's father and his forces won the battle and when he discovered Ellis' fate, he simply had her disposed of like trash, glad to finally be rid of the woman. Amelia, already in a terrible state due to grief, finally lost her temper and talked back at her father, calling him out on all the things she had been forced to put up with under his roof and his hypocrisy in regards to his family and his treatment of them. Infuriated at this little outburst and well aware of his daughter's inability to stand sunlight for prolonged periods, her father was more then happy to finally have a reason (in his mind) to be rid of her and had her chained up to a large stone about a mile from his estate and well out of the way of any human settlements.

When the sun finally rose, it was painful for Amelia but the longer she was out there, the more intense the pain got as she felt her skin beginning to burn. She felt like she was on fire and eventually, she blacked out from the pain, part of her accepting her fate to be out here to suffer until she passed away. A larger part of her resisted though, and cried out for help from anyone. She knew of Angels, Fallen Angels, and Devils. While she doubted Angels would ever come to save one of her kind, she was more then willing to have her prayers answered by one of the other two races.

Her silent prayers were answered and summoned Ixervia to her after she had been trapped on the rock for almost three whole days. Incredibly weak and desperate to live, Amelia did not hesitate in forming a contract with the Devil in front of her. It would take her a while to recover from her ordeal but when she did, she immediately began studying magic to try and make herself as useful as possible. It was during her studies that she discovered her affinity for elementals and summoning magic, quickly forming contracts with Firma, Rain, and Aery. Now a days, she happy to live a peaceful life, just enjoying each day and her freedom of her father.

Other:
"I Chooseth this fate of my own free will"

[User]
Shitenhoji Academy one of the largest escalator schools located in Japan. Often it was also considered one of the most premier but to most however unlike schools such as Kuoh who focused majorly on academics Shitenhoji was different and boasted high marks in both athletics and Arts. As the school bell rang to end the day students of all sorts left and began their after class clubs. Shitenhoji Academy made it a requirement that students join clubs or a committee as to better themselves and gain knowledge and skills that will aid them even out of the academy. This was often enforced strictly with the student council checking to make sure each student was at least part of one club.

Ixveria looked around leisurely spinning in what appeared to be a overly large office char with a large back. It made it somewhat comical to a outside viewer and she was sure that some of her peerage watching the scene was chuckling to themselves being the right bastards that they were at times. Either way she was bored and it was showing as she quickly placed yet another sweet into her mouth. Yes to the school Ixveria was the local sweet nut and also president of what was on paper a help group aimed to help students and others with their needs. This front helped with gaining clients for her peerage who was mostly gathered in the room. Dimitri being the flirt he was shown rubbing his cheek a red imprint of a hand clearly seen on his face. While Amelia being one of her youngest members was off in corner of the couch with her recent member Nora facing adjacent of her. Auriola was in the kitchen she had added so she could get easier access to sweets baking a cake of sorts to welcome the new member. Haku however was being his normal self as she saw him entering that left the supposed "supervisor" of the club Izumi though considering his role as a new teacher she was sure he would arrive soon.

[Assistant]
Auriola

"Happy...what could this day be called? Devil-Day? Demonbirthday? No, all too ominous..." Auriola pondered quietly, spreading a layer of powdered sugar onto the double layered chocolate icing-stuffed sponge cake she'd been making since classes ended. A blank expression rested on the artificial humanoid's face as she thought on what to write on the top in vanilla frosting...perhaps simply "Welcome Nora" would suffice, but it still bothered her that she didn't have the creativity for a new holiday for inducting new peerage members. From what Ixveria had described, it seemed the new girl had a rough time with her death...dying by one's own manifesting power winds up being a confusing mess the day you're resurrected.

Simply writing out "Welcome!" in the creamy white frosting, Auriola felt that cake would be satisfactory...though she'd have to make sure everyone got a piece before Ixveria. Usually her piece wound up being about half the cake for just the sugar...it honestly surprised her how eager she'd be to suck down something even with powdered sugar on top. That aside, the robotic maiden's hair suddenly pulled up into two twin tails, her right arm's mass congealing into a giant metallic blade, sharpened to perfection. "Hehe...Just leave this to me~" she chimed happily, personality suddenly shifted to that of a bubbly schoolgirl who just happened to be a death bot.

 Now that the Chastity Driver was active, her gargantuan sword arm slowly descended upon the cake, her tongue pushed out of her lips and up as she concentrated. If she could sweat, she would be right about now. With the platter only SLIGHTLY cracked in half, Chastity Auriola beamed, sword arm transforming back to normal as she put her hands on her hips. "Mm! Mhm! Absolutely perfect! Nora's gonna live it~" she said, before her hair suddenly fell back into its straight style. "Operation complete. she said, starting to place the pieces of perfectly sliced cake onto plates.

[User] "You could call it a Rebirth Day, Auriola." Amelia said from the couch, looking up from her sketch pad just as her robotic friend, used rather loosely here as Amelia was unsure how she felt about Auriola, used a knife that was way too big to cut the cake with as much precision as possible. The sight was rather comical and managed a provoke the beginnings of a smile from the young Dhampir before she returned to her drawing, popping a caramel cream candy into her mouth from the pile nearby. After Ixy, Amelia had the biggest sweet tooth in the group, though she wasn't nearly as bad as their king. For now, she was patiently waiting to see what they would get up to while making a sketch of their newest member, Nora, who was sitting nearby. She paid no mind to the other members in the room, save to throw a caramel cream to Ixy when their King asked for one in exchange for one of Izy's candies, and Dimitri, who she had to resist rolling her eyes at when the stupid vampire came in with a slap-mark on his face. The idiot never seemed to learn, did he?


[System]
Appearance:

Height/Weight: 5', 90lbs

Age: 19

Personality: Happy, upbeat and infinitely curious, Brenda tries her best to see the bright side in any situation. She panics easily, but quickly regains a manic sort of composure. She's more likely to act before thinking and deal with the consequences. The common tongue is her second language, so she sometimes misunderstands.

Home Island/Sea: Okidou Island, East Blue. An island with large forests of strong trees, chiefly exported for shipmaking. The island's inhabitants take care to the forests to ensure they plant more trees than they cut down, to ensure future livelihood. The people have their own language.

History:

Brenda grew up on Okidou Island watching the varieties of ship arrive to buy the islands wood, amazed that pieces of her homeland would travel so far. She always wanted to find out how the ships were made.

When she was nine, a storm sunk a ship near Okidou's coast. The people all helped out with the rescue. Much of the cargo was lost under the sea, but Brenda rowed her home-made raft out, swam down and found a watertight box containing a devil fruit, which she ate back at her 'secret hideout', a beach hut she also made herself.

Brenda loved her amazing new powers, but the folk back home weren't quite so happy. The captain of the sunken ship was especially displeased, as he intended to trade the fruit for a large supply of wood, to supply his shipyard. Regardless, something about the young girl's passion for carpentry appealed to him, so he made a deal with Brenda's father. She would come with him to work off the cost of the fruit, learning a shipwright's trade.

Ten years later, Brenda has finished paying off the fruit (Which also happened to be the day her tutor decided she'd learned all he could teach) and set out to explore the oceans, see new styles of carpentry. While she was working at the shipyard, Brenda took plenty of photographs (Some kind of snail-based camera?) to write letters home, and as a farewell gift the master of the shipyard gave her an empty book, to fill with memories of her journey.

Fruit:

Maze-Maze no Mi, AKA the Mix-Mix Fruit. Paramecia Type. Brenda has the ability to turn herself and other objects into a putty-like substance by rpidly kneading it with her hands. They turn back if left alone, but while transformed it can be mixed with another liquid or transformed substance, to combine the two. She can also separate the objects again by reaching 'in' and pulling it out.

Common uses for Brenda include mixing a wooden plank into glue, to get a substance that's sticky and applyable by brush but hardens into a solid wooden coating, mixing a hammer into her hand for an iron punch, or mixing cloth with a sheet of metal to easily shape it, then remove the cloth and end up with metal in the required shape.

The chief limitations on the ability are that Brenda can only transform an object small or light enough for her to lift, as she needs to use both hands to putty-ify something, and she is unable to use her ability on living creatures other than herself. Soaking combined objects in saltwater also unmixes them if done within the first few days, as the sea nullifies the devil-fruit power.

It also has a tendancy to activate when Brenda is distracted or startled, mixing her with her gear. Her hat and hair often fuse as soon as she stops paying attention, giving her a hairstyle in the shape of a hat, with it's decorations mixed in. If Brenda trips into a pile of bricks, she may turn to putty and splatter into them, reforming herself very blocky. And she tends to wake up in the morning with a pillow for a head.

Mix-Mix Combine
Rapidly knead into putty and combine two or more objects.

Mix-Mix Augment
Combine an object with a part of her body, to boost herself somehow, or gain some measure of control over it. (e.g. Hammer fist, rope tail, telescope eyes)

Mix-Mix Full Body Putty
Brenda transforms her whole body into putty. Very limited mobility, but greatly increased defence. Needs to be in this state to use Mix-Mix Full Body augment

Mix-Mix Full Body Augment
Brenda combines her whole self with an object or objects. This needs a greater supply of objects to be effective, or else they are too diluted.

Mix-Mix Separate
Pull objects out of a Mix-Mix technique, restoring them to their original properties.

So far, Brenda can only use Mix-Mix Separate on objects she's added to the mix herself. She may develop the ability to undo other mixtures or compounds in the future.

As well as the size limitation, the more alive something is, the harder it is for Brenda to work on it. Something completely inorganic is the easiest, with 'dead' organic matter such as a plank, cloth or a steak being only a little harder. A living plant is the limitation of her ability. Animals or people (Other than herself) are beyond Brenda's capabilities to alter. For now, anyway.

Fighting style: Brenda is not a skilled fighter, but if pressured into a fight her style would be best described as 'wild brawling'. She throws whatever is to hand, mixes tools into herself for extra punching power and crawls under tables, over chairs and slams doors in faces or dumps pots on heads. She's no match for a skilled fighter, but can keep an amateur off guard long enough to escape. If cornered, she'd probably try setting something on fire.

Ship Position: Assistant Shipwright

Bounty: Insignificant (May have picked up a few hundred for petty crimes in local jurisdictions, but nothing that would cross a sea)

[User]
"Run to the hiiiiiiiiiiiiils~"
Nearly instantly hitting the deck as the sounds of cannon fire echoed through the town, Leonard was definitely scared, shivering as he ran after Abel. The last thing he wanted was to stay inside a building while they were hailing cannon fire. Sticking close to Abel and awestruck that a human being just caught a cannonball and LIVED, he silently obeyed Abel's request. Gently moving her so that oxygen was ensured to flow to her brain, Leonard huddled against the wall, shaking slightly. If one thing was apparent to anybody, he was scared. Scared out of his mind. So scared he actually was starting to hyper-ventilate. With shaking hands, he reached back into his cloak, pulling out his black-iron mask, placing it over his mouth so he wouldn't breath so rapidly. Like an iron paper bag.

Looking at Nikko sadly, he hugged his knees against his chest. "...I wish...I-I wish I could help..." he says quietly, before gingerly placing his hand behind Nikko's head, making sure she wasn't bleeding from the head. "No sign of swelling...just...w-what is this woman made of? A normal person would be dead." he affirms as he quickly puts her head back where it was against the wall. As long as she didn't move too badly, even if she had a concussion, he would have some painkillers ready for her when she awoke. Keeping his eyes out for any danger, he was ready to move her at any time if need be.

[Assistant]
"Shattering" Sylas

"Alright, it's been a long enough delay. It's time to continue on with my journey into the Grand Line." He wasn't talking to anyone in particular, he never was. The eccentric man walked alone along the port, his hands behind his head with his elbows out to the side in a relaxed pose despite the fact he was walking. "But it seems that this will have to be my ship from now on. I suppose she deserves a name, for surviving as long as she has. Hmmm... perhaps Chain Breaker Junior? No, pops would roll in his grave. It needs to be unique, magnificent, and most importantly it must scream that it was christened by Sylas Maison!" He finally arrived, standing before his ship. A solid glass vessel, shaped like a miniature galleon. Despite the fact it had no canvas on the empty mast, it was equipped with two large oars as a means of propulsion.

"I've got it! She shall be the White Rose!!" Sylas thrust his hand into the air and crossed his other arm over his chest, making an overly dramatic and equally lame pose. In an epic cue, the sound of cannonfire rang across the port at the very second he struck the silly pose. "Wha-?" While several others that had been walking around the port immediately ducked in cover as ships along the port began to explode, Sylas remained in his pose as the explosions rocked around him. He wasn't particularly worried for his own health as only one cannonball exploded nearby. And it had crashed into his glass ship, destroying it instantly and sending shards of glass in all directions while the majority of the hull sank into the water.

He remained frozen in place, his face contorted in an expression of comic disbelief. "White Rose!! Noooo!!" He broke the silence, collapsing onto his knees and taking his head in his hands in grief. By now the others had all run from the port, not willing to take the chance to see if the marine ships would open fire again. "A legendary vessel struck down the very day she earned her name! The adventures to come will never get to be!" Sylas looked almost as if he was about to cry, before suddenly recomposing himself and getting back on his feet. "It was pretty small anyways. Now I have a good excuse to make a new ship of the proper size. I bet I can get a proper mast even. But first..." His right hand moved up to smoothly adjust his glasses as his gaze stretched down the harbor, past the other sinking ships, to spot the landing marines.

"Shattering Sylas must avenge his fallen vessel..."

As a platoon of marines began to make their way from the ship towards the town, weapons already drawn, one of the young men on the right flank felt an ominous presence and noticed a shadow covering him. When he looked up and to the right to see what it was, his eyes widened in genuine surprise. Sylas came down on him, holding a gigantic hammer over his head. The odd pirate slammed into the formation of soldiers with an explosion of dust, concrete, and glass, sending soldiers flying in all directions. As the dust cleared and the marines began to pick themselves back up, Sylas was seen holding the large glass handle, notably broken off at the top from where the hammerhead had been destroyed. "I can see it now," Sylas spoke, his voice low and ominous as the glass in his hands began to regenerate, reforming the hammer.

"Shattering Sylas shatters entire Navy fleet, saves the innocent Town of Contradictions in a stunning display of passion for his beloved ship, White Rose. A long headline, but a proper one for sure." While he seemed intent on talking to himself, several marines prepared a sword charge, coming at him from all sides with their blades raised. "Hmmm, perhaps it should be shortened just a little..." Gripping his giant weapon tightly, Sylas swung it around in a full circle, the sheer size and weight of the glass hammer bashing any swords out of the way and sending the marine attached flying backwards. One full rotation later and Sylas was no longer in any danger from the marines. "Now that I look closer, it seems that there are many marines on the scene..."

Resting the weapon on his shoulder, Sylas looked back towards the town. Several other platoons had already landed and entered, causing whatever mess they were going to make. Then he looked back towards the port, at the Navy ships that were still on the water and prepared to deliver more cannonfire. "A more cowardly man might consider this a good time for a tactical retreat. But not I. My thirst for revenge will not be sated until their ships share the same fate as White Rose!" One of the marines on the ground began to move, slowly and stealthily drawing his pistol. As he aimed the weapon at Sylas's back for a surprise attack, the young man suddenly turned around and slammed the hammer against his hands in a horizontal swing. Surely this broke the marine's hands and arms, but it also sent the pistol flying into the distance like a home run. "Besides, I'm sure if I tried to sail away those ships out there would gun me down. Definitely have to handle the Navy before I leave this town..."

[User]
Brenda hurries through the streets, turns a sharp corner and runs into what she first takes for a tartan wall, falling backwards. She then looks up to see a huge kilted marine turning around to look her way. The brute considers, then reaches down to the inexperienced pirate.

Brenda stands and swallows, only for the marine to grab her treasure chest with two massive fingers and try to lift it away from her. Brenda holds on so tightly she's lifted as well, curling up around her treasure as the Marine begins trying to shake her off.

---

Through what remains of the tavern window flies a beige ball of goop, impacting behind the bar with a splat and falling to the floor along with several bottles. Then there's a groan from behind the bar, and a woman made of blue glass, with a cork for hair, paper labels for clothes and an unknown substance sloshing about inside stands up.

The woman takes a moment to regain her footing, and then looks at her hands. "Mix-Mix Separate!" she says to herself, before reaching into her body and pulling out several bottles of grog. When the last is removed, her body changes to beige putty, then back to flesh and blood (And cloth, leather, wood, metal and everything else about her person).

"Ah! Su Atano!" she says suddenly, her words foreign but her tone one of shock. She begins patting herself down, eventually breathing a sigh of relief as she lifts her shirt to reveal a wooden belly, with a brass keyhole over her navel and hinges on one side.

Finally, Brenda notices the other people in the tavern. The unconscious woman, the man tending to her, the various pirates preparing to fight or hide. "Is every person okay?" she asks, before being answered by another ominous croak from the overhead beam, and asking "Do you want me to fix that?" She takes a hammer and nails from her belt, gesturing to the crack.


[System]
Age: 18

Race: Goblin (though he claims to be a gnome with a bad skin condition)

Class: Wizard

Level: 2

Background: Charlatan

Personality: Pompous, theatrical, attention-seeking, jittery, proud, possibly delusional, doesn't know when to shut up.

Backstory: sent to GM

Other: Has a fey familiar called Eighteyes who takes the form of a spider. She's loyal to Jub while also being 100% done with his nonsense.

Stat Generation: Point Buy

[User] [oops]

[Assistant]
Zavakri & Miizel
& The Dungeon Master

As Zavakri and Miizel make their way to the Hall of Illusions, they notice that the air around them seem brighter than before. The stars above them twinkle a little more so, and the people around them seem happier. When they reach the Hall of Illusions, they see that this large tent is painted with a mural of shifting images that show grinning faeries diving into pools of color. The helical stripes of the tent's pointed canopies rotate in spirals, and the whole display seems designed to befuddle onlookers.

Near the Hall of Illusions, there is a wooden mannequin of a grinning, raven-haired young woman in witch's attire and a green flowing cape hovers inside a glass cabinet. At the top of the cabinet, a sign reads "Tasha the Wizard—Known for Her Hideous Laughter."

Right now, a human witchlight hand stands near the entrance of the attraction with a ticket puncher ready.

Miizel approaches the witchlight hand and presents his ticket.

"I've been told that a certain bugbear was last seen here." Miizel casually mentions. "Was it inside the Hall or the general area around it?"

The Witchlight Hand tilts her head and she answers, clearly confused, "I'm...sorry? I'm a new Witchlight Hand, so I'm afraid I'm not sure what you're talking about. I'm just holding the fort here until Candlefoot comes back,"

She then asks, "Oh! Are you here for the Hall of Illusions? Well, step right up and I'll punch your tickets for the attraction!"

Zavakri frowns slightly. Then severely. And finally she tilts her head a bit.

"Do people truly enjoy...Illusions? I can't fathom it, honestly. Willingly allowing yourself to be deceived? That's so mind boggling, that'd be like leaving the kettle on to boil then starting a chore only to forget that you had the kettle on in the first place and having to run back across the house to get at it as it screams at you the whole time. I like my world to be the way it's supposed to be, thank you very much!"

She extends her ticket all the while, offering it to the attendant despite her diatribe.

"Candlefoot? New Witchlight Hand? This is all so very interesting- who's Candlefoot?"

The new Witchlight Hand tilts her head as she listens to Zavakri's biting words regarding illusions. She shrugs as she answers, "I mean...I guess it depends on the person? Plus, if you're told up front that you're about to see illusions, then is it really deception to begin with? In the kettle context, by informing fairgoers that they're going to see illusions, we'd be telling them to keep an eye on the kettle, right?"

She then shrugs at her own questions, her own mood cheerful despite Zavakri's words. The mood is too good for anyone to take offense.

The Witchlight Hand punches Miizel's and Zavakri's tickets as she answers, "Oh! Candlefoot is the mime. He was here earlier, but then he took off running when he got his voice back! No doubt to see Palasha,"

Miizel looks up at Zavakri with a puzzled expression, as if just now realizing that his companion is a little bit stuck up. He then turns back to the Witchlight Hand and says. "Bah, don't worry about it. Come on let's go."

As they enter he's going to say to Zavakri. "You don't have to think too much about the logic of a carnival attraction. Not everything needs to be philosophical."

As Miizel and Zavakri enter the Hall of Illusions, they see tall mirrors line the interior walls of the tent. The mirrors near the entrance reflect onlookers in their youth; the images grow steadily older, until the mirrors deep within the hall reflect onlookers in their twilight years.

Miizel begins to look distracted as he stares into the interior of the Hall of Illusions. His brows furrow in confusion, trying to make sense of the memories, or lack thereof. It seemed like the Hall held answers to questions he didn't know he had. Miizel begins to enter the Hall without waiting for Zavakri.

"It's not about the philosophy it's about-"

She watches, briefly surprised by Miizel's sudden departure. She raises a hand as if her solitary source of stability in this uncertain world were slipping away, then rushes herself along with him.

"I take it you're fond of illusions then." She chimes.

Miizel doesn't hear what Zavakri says and instead takes a step forward. Then another, and another, and before long he was winding down the Hall. Each step and turn had purpose in them, as if he knew this place like the back of his hand. It even surprised him.

As he passes by the mirrors, he could see a younger version of himself. Dozens upon dozens of reflections of a gnome child walking through these halls. He wasn't even looking at where he was going anymore, his focus was on the reflection of a childhood long gone.

Suddenly his feet came to an abrupt stop and looking forward he could see another mirror. Those around him still showed his younger self but the one in front was different. He couldn't quite make out what it is but that it tugged at something on the furthest reaches of his memory. His heart was pounding and a cold sweat began to form. Miizel took several deep breaths and slowly reached out to touch it.

As he slowly reaches out to touch it, the few seconds seem to pass agonizingly slow...

His heartbeat pounds louder and louder, his hand shakes more and more, until finally....!

...

...

His hand touches the mirror. It rests on the mirror surface. Nothing happened when Miizel touched the mirror.

Confusion overtakes the gnome's face as he puts his other hand against the mirror. He taps it a few times then begins looking around and behind it.

The mirror surface remains just as solid when he places the other hand on the mirror surface. Nothing happens when he taps the mirror. He doesn't see anything odd or out of the ordinary around or behind the mirror.

Miizel shakes his head and turns to look at Zavakri, an annoyed look on his face. "Sorry. I don't know what got into me. The moment we stepped into the Hall I felt something tugging at me. Pulling me forward and leading me…well…here." He turns to motion at the mirror he was just inspecting. "I've searched the mirror and the area around it but to no avail. Sorry for wasting your time."

Miizel shakes his head and turns to look at Zavakri, an annoyed look on his face. "Sorry. I don't know what got into me. The moment we stepped into the Hall I felt something tugging at me. Pulling me forward and leading me…well…here." He turns to motion at the mirror he was just inspecting. "I've searched the mirror and the area around it but to no avail. Sorry for wasting your time."

"Eh, what?" She blinks at him, severely distracted in her own right; this current mirror was annoyingly portraying her in all her teenaged glory... And it was not very flattering to her mind, what with her gangling limbs- and, drama!, how she needed to wash her hair more! She blinks several times before tearing her eyes away and looking to Miizel. She clears her throat, her mind digesting his words.

"Oh, nonsense there chum; this place has some kind of power over us all, I'm sure of it. Each of us given a free ticket is here for a reason, though mine is plain enough. I raced off to where I felt drawn to; you did as well. To reference our conversation with Feathreen and the perceptions of time...You didn't waste my time, we're all here trying to regain some time we lost long ago."

She smiles wanly and places a hand on her hip.

"Frankly, friend, I'm terrified to go much further down this hall of mirrors. I don't think I'm ready to see myself as a crone. I already suspect I'll be needing glasses 'fore long, I'd hate to have a visual to back up that probability. We can stay here and look around as long as you need though! I'm not going anywhere." she offered supportively.

"I appreciate that. I'm good now, I'm sure it'll come back to me as we travel the carnival." He gives her a smile and puts his hands on his hips. "Well, I suppose we should get going then."

As Miizel and Zavakri head out of the Hall of Illusions, they hear the joyful sounds of the crowd bustling about outside. The carnival outside of this Hall seems to have become a much more welcoming place compared to this Hall...

When they reach the outside, they see that a lot of the customers are heading for the Big Top! The next event is apparently taking place there.

Within the hall, something lurks in the shadows, watching them leave before it vanishes.

[User]
Witchlight Carnival
The Fourth Hour

The Big Top Extravaganza

As the three pairs of adventurers head for the Big Top, they notice that the Calliope seems to be giving a happier tune than when they first came in here, and everyone seems to be in a brighter mood. They also notice that the stars twinkle even brighter above the carnival. There are even some shooting stars, giving a spectacular show if one decides to look up.

These adventurers are all heading to the same destination: The Big Top

The roof of this tent reaches toward the night sky in three swooping peaks topped with spinning gold stars. Painted wooden panels on the tent walls whirl with colorful motion, displaying vibrant circus performances. The sound of music and laughter drifts out through the canvas door.

They enter to see a lot of fairgoers also arrived to see the Big Top Extravaganza. Unfortunately, this also meant that there are fewer seats.

As fate would have it: There are 6 seats in a row that are left open for them to take. The adventurers would easily notice each other as they take those seats.

For one of the Witchlight Hands...this is the beginning of her shift, and of all things to start with, it has to be the Big Top Extravaganza.

[Assistant]
Brutrumukk

Brutrumukk grinned eagerly as he passed the happily playing Calliope. "I think we're in the right place, booyagh." Brutrumukk said to the goblin wizard perched on his shoulder. "Just goes to show, when in doubt, always 'ead fer the biggest tent you can find. Never fails!" As he entered the Big Top, Brutrumukk became momentarily frustrated when he saw the lack of available seating. However, this frustration quickly evaporated when the bugbear caught sight of the six empty seats in a row. "Looks like we're in luck, booyagh." Brutrumukk laughed. "Let's 'urry before someone else nicks 'em!" With that said, Brutrumukk made for the empty seats.

[User]
Aurora

Aurora looked around the tent and saw how full it was for the show. There were however six seats, well four now as the bugbear and the strange gnome from earlier had made their way down to the remaining seats.

"Looks pretty packed for the show Gabe, there are a few more seats down in the front. If we want to sit during the show we should probably get to the seats quickly." Aurora started to make her way down to the seats turning slightly to still talk to Gabe. "What are you looking forward to seeing during the show? I know I'm looking forward to the acrobatics."

[Assistant]
G A B R I E L

"Quite a crowd," Gabriel mused, during the walk to the big top the duelist had been oddly quiet however he seemed in better spirits probably due to the excitement filling the room as if at any second anything could happen "Best we get to our seat then yes." following Rory as she made for the remaining seats by a familiar pair "Not quite sure really, it all seems so exciting!" he answered seating himself between her and the bugbear.

[User]
As Brutrumukk headed towards the empty seats, Jub was surveying the surrounding seats for any hint of the troublesome kenku. However, he abruptly stopped his surveillance when he spotted the familiar elf and half-elf he had almost bumped into earlier. As if suddenly self-conscious, he tugged at his hood slightly to make sure his face was still obscured. While hanging around Brutrumukk, he had felt not to worried about keeping up appearances - it certainly helped that the carnival itself seemed to be full of all sorts, making his status as a goblin seemed far less of problem then it had during his time in cities.

Now, however, seeing these strangers who had been so kind and forgiving to him earlier, made him painfully aware that they might be far less accepting of him if they realised what he was.

As they neared their seats, Jub suddenly hopped of Brutrumukk's shoulder and took his seat between Brutrumukk and the two strangers. "Good to see you again, comrades!" he said, putting on a more bombastic tone. "Have you been enjoying the carnival so far?"


[System]
Backstory:
Zey is the only child of a Turkish diplomat and a translator/cultural adviser. She was raised in embassies and on the fringes of summits all over the Earth before joining the ESA cadet programme at 18. After passing with merit, she became a test pilot for experimental civilian & military prototypes. Starting with single occupant craft, Zey showed intelligence, initiative and a willingness to push the envelope which was just the right side of reckless. After a few years, her ambition secured her a co-pilot. Soon after that, she was handed the project of testing larger ships that required a crew of up to a dozen.

A decade into her career, a veteran test pilot Zeynap was headhunted by a Martian military industrial conglomerate. Her new job was to train pilots on the Red Planet how to fly a jet fighter system she had tested through from prototype to production years back. Still without a family and parents she had a testy relationship with, Zey moved to Mars and started making the big bucks. Really big bucks. Like outrageous amounts of currency.

She hated it. Being stuck in one training facility the whole time, on a planet that wasn't terraformed yet, unable to spread her wings personally. Her mental health began to deteriorate after a year or so. Zey drank, gambled and got high; anything to ease the boredom and depression. Eventually, she started getting into fights with colleagues and even students. Her firm had been willing to overlook certain misdemeanours on account of her skillset and experience, but they couldn't condone attacks on other staff.

Officially, Zey took a medical leave of absence. Unofficially, she would never instruct for them again.

Even though she longed to return to Earth, something stopped her initially. It may have been the shame of how far she'd sunk, and the dread of her highly-powered parents finding out. Or it may have been that Mars was a relatively lawless place, which suited her current frame of mind.

Eventually, Zey joined a unit of private military contractors who flew and guarded valuable shipments of raw materials between different manufacturing hubs around Solar System. The modern equivalent to Cash-In-Transit jobs of old. Well paid and usually dangerous. She flew overpowered freighters like they were fighter jets or battering rams, depending on what threatened them.

She still drank and got high, and kept assuring herself she'd pull herself together and get back to Earth soon. Whether or not she would have succeeded on her own is purely speculation now. Somehow, a representative from the Tamerlane Exploration company got in touch. Said they'd got her details from a friend at the Martian industrial conglomerate - they had an exciting job opportunity. Zey's skillset looked ideal, would she like to apply? It would mean taking command of her largest crew to date.

Zey headed back to Earth immediately, embellished what she'd achieved since going on medical leave in the interview, and got the job. The Jotunheim was already part way through construction when she arrived in Norway to get acclimated. Some of the crew had already been sourced - Zey was able to be present in some of the later interviews and tests. Because of the rapidly accelerated timeline, the crew was really only able to fly the prototype together a dozen times before the Board of Directors authorised a full maiden voyage.
Species: Human

Age: 35

Appearance:

Callsign: Ezra
Name: [REDACTED]

Species: Human

Age: [REDACTED]

Appearance (in armour):

Appearance (without armour):

[User]
Kolvar Stilmyst

Kolvar avoided the gaze of the armed guards. He stayed quiet while the soldier would introduce himself. "My name is Kercheck. I was told to help with fetching a thought mage." He really hoped no one could read his mind. If this was the case, he would have to keep his mind blank. While waiting he was tapping his clawed finger on a nearby table. The rhythm is an old Kriliteran slave song.

 Walking with the guards along with the soldier. Keeping close to them. And felt quite anxious about who the inquisitor would be. He was quite impressed by the design of the exterior and interior of the building. Being particularly interested in the paintings that hung up on the wall of the inquisitor's office. He wondered if a Kriliteran had painted some of them. For a moment he stopped to squint and see if there was any sign of a Kriliteran who had painted these. There would be a very specific marking somewhere hidden in the painting. Of course, his train of thought was interrupted by the soldier touching his shoulder. "My apologies I was distracted by the craftsmanship of these paintings." He followed the soldier without any further interruptions.

Stopping in the middle of the room, looking petrified seeing the S'tor standing in front of them. Kolvar's clawed hands were shaking, he felt immense anger starting to build up. His face didn't show it, but his body was showing visible signs of pure rage. He took a few deep breaths before speaking. "We need your services speaking to some foreigners that had recently arrived in Kanth-Aremek. They do not speak the common tongue, and we need to communicate with them to lower tensions. A group of glen folk arrived as soon as Castigato Nellara arrived. Do you know of House Silbermine? They claimed to be from that group, and wanted to claim the contents of the ship." He tried to keep a level head while speaking to the S'tor.

[Assistant]
High District, Lenkik

---

As the S'tor listened, he took a cup of something from the table in front of him and took a sip, though still kept his gaze firmly on Kercheck. It was steaming hot, and from the scent in the air, seemed to be some sort of tea. "Arrived in Kanth-Aremek recently you say? This has something to do with that brilliant light in the sky a few days back, yes? Visitors from beyond our world…what a spectacular occurrence." He remarked. The S'tor was soft-spoken, and seemed rather calm considering how significant this news was. "Ah, but where are my manners? I am Gar'Tan, Thought mage in gracious service to Lenkik. So of course, Castigator Nellara's word is my command."

While barely noticeable to their guests, the Iriad gave a quick gesture towards the two Glen Inquisitors. "Make the preparations." They ordered. Without hesitation, the two Glen took their leave, though the other two Inquisitors remained.

Gar'Tan continued without interruption. "I cannot say I am personally familiar with Mythadia's noble houses, but I do know their type. I can do my best to facilitate communications between all three groups. Please, while we are waiting, tell me what these visitors are like?"

[User]
Kolvar Stilmyst

Watching the S'tor carefully particularly staring at him while he was sipping his tea. "Kerchek." He made a quick introduction before continuing to speak. "They seem obviously very scared, which is understandable since they do not know where they are. But they seem to want to try and communicate with us. Which shows they want to build some sort of relationship with us." Kolvar felt awkward talking to a S'tor. The relationship between their races was quite strained, to say the least. But he was willing to play nice for the time being, to get the thought mage on his side.

"They do not look like any Kanth-Aremek inhabitant that I know of. They appear to be without feathers and scales, being completely hairless. And their skin tone seems very strange." He hoped that nothing had gone wrong while he was away from the group.

[Assistant]
The upper deck of the Jotunheim was abuzz with panicked movement as Itxaro rolled through. The civilian passengers weren't clear on what was happening, just that they'd been woken up and told to shelter in place. Some of them may have been some kind of use in a firefight, but the crew hadn't informed them of the nature of the problem yet, and neither had an audit of their skills been undertaken.

Dr Feng was part way through calmly evacuating all non-critical patients from the med bay when Itxaro threw a vest at him. He caught it, deftly flopping it over his head and on. Feng looked at his assistants and told them to take over, then stepped toward Dr Ibarra and took the proffered carbine with one med-gloved hand. He fastened the plate carrier tightly around his body with the other.

"Broadly speaking - what's happening?"

Sara the medical assistant hurriedly clipped a white pack with a red cross on it to the back of Feng's vest. The good doctor then waved her away and motioned for Itxaro to lead him out.

---

Silbermine watched two large birds lift off from the crashed temple and flap into the sky towards the mountains as the Castigator addressed him again. That is at least one mage out of the picture. His large antlered head eventually returned to look at her, but he didn't respond. This one evidently needed taking down a notch or two.

He listened carefully to J'eon too, before snorting contemptuously at the other Glen and tapping one hoof on the stoney ground.

"You're a Smith, aren't you? I can hear the hammerscale in your voice! Speak you to a Lord this way? I should have you flayed for your insolence! Come here and tell me of this temple's properties and I may yet reconsider. There could even be gold in it for you!"

Soon after, a thing that the noble had only heard tales about spoke. An Iriad wreathed in flames. This surely meant something, yet he could not figure out what. His beady, intelligent eyes studied them through the slit in his ornate helmet. The painting wasn't a Glen? He looked again.

"Hmmmmm."

After a moment, he unclipped the immaculate visage from the front of his helmet, revealing his scarred and craggy face to these people for the first time. It was a face that had seen many battles and knew its way around a stand off.

"I know not how these Sky People look. Only that Glen lose their antlers at winter's end, and I command a squadron of wall breakers with rams attached their chests."

At that point, the Castigator requested a parley. Silbermine nodded.

The Castigator began approaching their position. The Glen behind Silbermine remained motionless, apart from their standards flapping in the wind. The fog behind them was creeping up the hillside toward them, threatening to re-engulf the soldiers.
Silbermine trotted forward, followed at a distance of about ten metres by his three knights (the Glen-at-arms and servants remained still).

Nellara and Silbermine stopped about five metres from each other.

"I pray you bring the Sky People out here so we may talk like civilised folk. I have no quarrel with them - I swear it. There is no need for anyone to die here."

---

"Droid 2, do not move or make any noise until I say. Confirm command." Ezra quietly urged, viewing the robot through his scope. It stood clutching a long, thin shard of metal about thirty feet from the lead elk-thing.

"Command confirmed." came the whispered response in his earpiece.

Ezra had opted not to move when this new party arrived, instead crouching down and trying to blend with the charred shrubbery around him. There had been a variety of unintelligible shoutings between these two alien groups. He'd seen some birds fly off, and now one of the alien warriors had embarked down from the ridge the Jotunheim sat on and clanked through the scree towards the elk-things.

"Captain, what is the plan here? This looks like a conversation we should be included in."

---

With all the aliens now out of the shuttle bay, Zey moved closer to the hole in the hull which was serving as the entranceway. Mr Darnell shouldered his shotgun and came closer as well, helping Vigdis and Eva move boxes into a defensive wall.

Peering outside, Zey got a glimpse of the backs of the aliens they were just communicating with, and further down the hill…

Ranks of heavily armoured quadrupeds. Great. It was looking like the fever dream mediaeval reenactment out there.

"Mallory, what is our armament's status? Do you have a bead on those horse-things outside?"

Ezra chimed in via comms, and it may have been the drugs talking, but he was making some good points. It was clear to Zey now that this world they had landed in was unstable, with multiple competing interests. As newcomers in a strange land, they needed to present strength and courage as well as collaboration. Otherwise, they could be perceived as commodities to be sold to the highest bidder for exploitation. That is what happened all through Human history - they had to assume some parallels could apply here.

Zey gulped down her bone-dry throat, and looked around at her crew/passengers. She needed to be brave for them now - if they stood any chance of surviving.

Taking one long breath out, she clambered onto the box that Vigdis had just slotted in front of her and jumped down onto the scorched earth beneath the Jotunheim. The rising sun shone brightly through her mask, and for a moment she was blinded by its light. She raised one hand to shield her eyes, and gradually she could see again.

"Ezra, I'm external." She murmured into her comms unit.

"Captain, what the fuck are you doing?!" Darnell shouted after her.


[System]
Female
Age: 24
Height: 5'7
Green eyes, warm beige skin tone, black hair.
Hair that goes all the way down but doesn't touch the floor. (Refer to image)
(Mixed race of Asian and Caucasian)

(Image does not accurately represent the age of the character, but only her hair style and initial clothing. Her skin color is warm beige.)

Primary Ability (Main)
Darkness Manipulation: The ability to manipulate the shadows around her and to create darkness. (As the RP progresses, she will display a variety of skills that revolves around darkness which I'll add onto this character page)

Secondary Ability (Minor)
Time Warping: The ability to manipulate the time of a specific area, such as accelerating and slowing time within that certain area.

Zuri has been sealed within a large dark crystal for thousands of years (roughly 2000) by a group of magic users due to her overwhelming ability to manipulate shadows and create darkness, which resulted in her being sealed up into a large crystal shard and hidden away within a catacomb. Her memories were lost as time goes by, distorted and shattered memories, she can only recall her name and rediscovers her ability to control darkness when she awakens. The crystal has started to give out dark energy from within the core, pulsing at a very slow rate.

Since Zuri wasn't born into this age and time, she doesn't know much about the current world. A factionless Talent without any friends and little to no memory of her own past. A clueless, mysterious and potentially dangerous girl.

Zuri lacks the ability to socialize with others due to the long period of time that she has been bound to the crystal, it's almost as if she's reborn as a blank slate but only feint memories of her past that could possibly change her. She's quite rebellious and can act a bit defensive if people try to get close to her at an unreasonably fast rate.

Zuri is quite simple-minded, willing to do anything to protect the people she likes and is quite direct with her thoughts, not giving a second thought to what she says and does not understand consequence. She doesn't like to keep her feelings bottled up and is quite vocal with her thoughts. She also says whatever she wants and acts upon her own instincts. Zuri has problems with following orders that she disagrees with, with few exceptions, but she can he kind and caring at times.

[User]
Raiya widened her eyes as she heard the explanation from Felix. It all started to make sense to her now, why he couldn't side with her when she was excommunicated, why he had never even attempted to make contact with her after she left, and why Felix waited until a few weeks ago to leave the arcanocracy and attempt to recruit her and mend bridges. The holy grail, the threat of execution for even attempting to disclose of the ritual. Felix had been bound and gagged by the ritual he was forced to perform to become an arch-mage. A lot of emotions were welling up inside Raiya, brimming forth and spilling over until her mouth began to move on its own, ""Felix, I didn-..." Raiya caught herself before she laid bare too much of what she was feeling. She did not know if she was quite ready to forgive Felix. But one thing was for sure, her anger was stoked even more towards the arcanocracy for stealing everything from her.

 Raiya rolled her eyes at the half-hearted apology from Nemo. Not even sparing a moment of thought to reply with anything but, "Tch- whatever..." Her thoughts were too disrupted by the new revelations regarding Felix that she was still processing everything. She continued to remain silent as an emotionally charged Zuri began to spill tears over the disclosure of Felix's predicament and her pledge to remain until the mission was complete. Raiya also remained silent during Travis's pledge, his voice displaying the honesty he could not display himself. It was apparent how hesitant Travis was to pledge his life to this mission, but Raiya figured there was something more that Travis was getting out of this adventure than just some warm fuzzies for helping humanity. Finally Raiya broke the silence with, "I don't know if I believe you about everything you just said. But I have known you since I was a child, and your aura has always been a constant calming white. One thing I noticed when he first came to me was that his aura, while still calming, had a feeling of instability to it. It felt as if Felix was charging a massive spell constantly. I just figured he had kept a few portals open as escape routes. But it does make sense. Regardless of what I want, I am honor-bound to remain here until the deed is finished or I have been released from my contract with Nemo. So, I am staying until we finish this, or we die. Which, honestly at this point, it is looking pretty certain that it might just be the latter" Raiya said in a calm tone. It was clear that Raiya still had a lot of processing to do on the matter, but she felt secure with her answer for the time being.

---

 As Nemo spoke Felix sat forward, placing his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together, and resting his chin on his clasped hands. "I might have used the term curse a little imperfectly there. I'm not quite sure if it actually is a true curse by definition. I've ran many biocrystal diagnostics on my mana-well. There was no apparent curse attached to me. A curse is like a parasite that feeds on your mana-well, while producing many horrid effects with your own mana that the curse has fed off of. The afforementioned horrid effects are by definition what people think of when they use the term, 'curse.' But there is no parasitic spells attached to me. By all accounts, I am as healthy as the day I became an arch-mage," Felix explained, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands on his stomach. "What is afflicting me seems to be less of a magical nature and more of a physical nature. Like a disease, an illness. That is wherein the problem lies. I honestly cannot figure out what has been afflicting me. Although, I do have some working theories. It is quite unnatural to permanently remove a portion of one's mana-well. In fact, most of the time it is quite fatal. My first hypothesis is that the reason why I am going through what I am calling: retrograde mana-well atrophy, is because I removed a portion of my mana-well. My second hypothesis is that, in order to cure myself, I must regain the portion of my mana-well I cut loose. Although, that does pose a problem, because the portion of my mana-well I severed would have been stored within the paragon of the grail that I bound myself to. While it might be possible to access it if we possessed it, the grail is deep in the heart of the vatican. It is most certainly the last paragon I would wish for you to retrieve. With that said, there may be a few working cures we could attempt in the mean time." Felix paused as if deep in thought, then shaking his head briefly, he continued, "I've tried been down many thaumaturgical paths, attempting to find a solution to my problem outside of reclaiming my mana-well from the holy grail, but my research has bore no fruits as of yet. However, I am not giving up, and-" Felix waved his right hand at Travis, "If you'll assist me in coming up with a solution to my dilemma, I am sure we will figure it out in no time."

 Felix was taken aback by the crying Zuri, Felix did not really know how to react as he had just met the newest addition to the team a few weeks ago. Felix began to awkwardly smile and scratch the back of his own head with his right hand while slowly waving his left hand in a gesture of assuagement. "Don't cry, Zuri. I didn't mean to make you sad. I just felt you all deserved to know what you were in for." Felix tilted his head down and clasped his hands together in an apologetic manner, taking a somber tone, "I would like to say I am very sorry for not telling you all the truth about me. It was my hubris that led to the grizzly deaths of our members. I have to bear that responsibility alone. And if this is to continue, I need my conscience clear. So thank you guys, for looking past my faults and instead, believing in the mission itself." Felix finished

[Assistant]
Travis continued to listen on to Felix's elaboration concerning his more apparent condition inflicted by his meddling retraction from the Holy Grail. While the Arch-Magi had some possible clues, they were more or less uncertainties without any grounding evidence nor appraise. What was known for sure however was that the affliction started by aborting a segment of his mana-well to free himself from a binding oath fabricated by the catholic arcanocracy. With the case in mind, it seemed likely that reversing the process was the only way to null this mana-driven anomaly. But what in entailed was quite literally acquiring the Holy Grail; a task Travis quickly predicted and probably agreed upon as insane if not suicidal.

But before heading down that road, assuming everyone is still kicking up to that point, treating the problem seems like the only best and more productive solution currently available, "While even I can't begin to imagine what is eating you, it'll definitely be a challenge worth tackling. Heck, may even help out with our research with the Paragons too," said Travis, sound more confident than he was minutes before.

[User] After Zuri wiped off all her tears, she noticed Felix apologizing for making her sad. "No no, you don't have to apologize! I should be thanking you and everyone else for helping me." Travis saying that he'll also be staying to help with removing this curse from her was also very reassuring. "Thanks Travis, it means a lot to me." She says, feeling all warm and fuzzy inside.


[System]
Rank: Cadet Sergeant at NAIS, Subaltern in the field (brevet rank)
Allegiance: Federated Suns (House Davion)
Planetary Origin: Caph
MOS: Mechwarrior
Synopsis of Role: The son of a Caph businessman with ancestral ties to pre-Succession War Caph aristocracy and a Davion veteran mechwarrior of the 3rd Crucis Lancers, Mattlov is current enrolled in NAIS. Has not risen past cadet sergeant because, while capable, he sometimes racks up demerits. He is noted for his affinity with medium mechs and a taste for hit and run tactics.
Battlemech: SHD-2Hb, but retrofitted with an AC/5 and ER Large Laser while retaining the Streak SRM-2's. The intent behind this mech is to function as a testbed for special munitions to augment standard autocannons and the Star League era vehicle with the Ferro-Fibrous armor and Endosteel was a viable upgrade that didn't involve the side-torso vulnerability of XL engines.

[User]
AFFS Subaltern Johan Rosales-Eichberg
Rifleman RFL-5D

 "Excellent work, Eichberg!" Han replied at Johans contact report, but he quickly followed up with criticism. "A little faster on the draw next time would be appreciated, however." Johan only flicked the radio on for a second to reply with "Roger."
Johan glanced at his heat gauge and watched it slowly go down, the double heat sinks no doubt working as fast as they could in the ambient heat of Steelton. He grabbed the end of his shorts and flapped it to cool off a little as he kept his eye on the battlemap. If anyone needed fire support, he would be able to find them on his battlemap and deliver the required support much quicker than if he were to try to find them with his eyes. He was always told that while it was good to know how to fight without instruments, having good instruments were still very useful in a fight. A badass pilot is great, but a badass pilot with good radar and sensors is even better.

 Johan watched as Mattlov moved to engage the Thunderbolt, forcing it to turn to face his flanking Shadow Hawk. The two exchanged fire, Mattlov managing to come out on top of that engagement. The Thunderbolt, now turned, had his back turned to Lyris. She took advantage of the flank and rushed into combat, sprinting at top speed towards the heavier battlemech. Johan watched anxiously, in a battle every situation could go wrong, the Thunderbolt could suddenly turn and alpha strike his friend, and a lucky hit could kill her instantly. He glanced to his heat again, it was going down, but not fast enough. Johan twisted the torso of his rifleman in preparation to step out. The small pilot felt his heart pound and he wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. Then he saw a new blip on his battlemap, it must have been the Urbanmech. Even at a distance he heard the AC/20's boom, a low thunderclap. Johan pushed his war machine to the limit, going as fast as he could into a run, he needed to clear his cover quickly to get a shot off at the Urbanmech. He kept one eye on the battlemap as he put one foot in front of the other. Lyris' blip didn't go out, so the shot either missed or she survived.

 He cleared the cover, seeing Lyris in the air, twisting to protect her head from the Thunderbolts array of medium lasers. A quick glance at the battlefield and he saw his target, hearing his friend shout, the Urbanmech was running at full speed to the Thunderbolts side. He concentrated on halting his mech as the Urbanmech fired again. Another low thunderclap, a shell of metal doom soared up from the short barrel of the AC/20 towards Lyris. Johans stomach dropped, was he too late? Would Lyris survive that shell? If it hit a noncritical component, an arm, or a leg, she could come out okay. But if it hit a side torso, and it dug into the internals, the shrapnel could shoot out into the cockpit and injure her. He could only watch as the shell approached her mech... and it went right past her, missing by about a dozen meters. The shell arced over and disappeared from view, likely landing somewhere behind Johan. He sighed in relief and halted his mech completely. He had to aim fast, he could imagine the ammo bin of the enemy AC/20 loading in another massive round. To be sure he zoomed with his neurohelm and hovered the crosshair over the gun arm of the Urbanmech once more. He squeezed the trigger for one large laser again, it would be enough, and he wanted the other laser to stay charged in case he missed with this one. The familiar blue beam surged forwards, connecting with right side torso just below the gun arm, at the hip. He pulled the laser towards the AC/20 itself and as the Urbanmech pilot tried to twist the to protect the gun. The laser found itself slashing across the AC/20 and even burning down the gun barrel itself. The gun must have been loaded. The Urbanmechs right arm exploded catastrophically, a sudden high pitched crack that sent pieces of armor and mangled gun parts at speed into the sandy ground. The area around the Urbanmech kicked up sand and dust like an airburst artillery shell had just detonated above the ground. The Urbanmech itself was midstride, and the ammunition explosion in the right arm sent the mech sideways, smashed into the ground.

 "Urbanmech right arm destroyed, Urbanmech knocked over." He said into the communications network, relief in his voice. What wasn't reliving was that he now had the full attention of the Thunderbolt. It ignored the other mechs closer to it, Lyris' Griffin and Mattlov's Shadow Hawk. The pirate battlemech broke out into a full sprint towards Johan, who was stunned for a second at the sudden recklessness of the enemy mech. Johan put his mech into reverse, but the Thunderbolt charging forward was quicker. He fired a PPC quickly aimed at the heavy mech, the bolt of lightning striking it right in the center torso but the mech surged forward with intensity still, only recoiling a little against the attack. It ignored any attacks and rushed Johan, furious at the Rifleman who gunned down his companion. The Thunderbolt slammed its foot down and used its momentum to slide closer to Johan, the pilot knowing exactly how far its battlemechs intertia would take it. A mere few meters away from Johans Rifleman, the Thunderbolt thrust its left hand forward, open palmed at the Riflemans left torso. The hand impacted with a deafening crash of metal on metal, and then four quieter, but still noticeable clangs. The Thunderbolt had dug its fingers into the side torso of Johans battlemech. Johan shouted a curse as the Thunderbolt yanked his mech towards him, forcing Johan to step foward and twist his torso right slightly, forcing his guns line of attack away from the Thunderbolts torso. Johan managed to get his left gun arm pointed at his attackers left arm, and burned a laser into the Thunderbolts arm, but the pirate ignored the attack. He responded by punching with his right arm, slamming his heavy mechs fist into the Riflemans left leg, crumpling armor plating. As Johans large laser was still cycling, the Thunderbolt punched again, this time a hammer blow into the left underarm of Johan's battlemech, throwing off his aim.
"Scheisse! Help!" He shouted desperately, sweating from the heat and the pressure from the attacker. In a bid to try and resist the grapple, Johan kneed the crazed pirate, he felt the attack connect but he wasn't sure where he hit. The Thunderbolt slammed his arm into the Riflemans left leg once more, collapsing the armor plating and crushing the myomer underneath. Sparks shot out from the wound in the leg, Johan heard alarms and saw on the paper doll that his left leg had been damaged heavily.

[Assistant]
Lyris Von Wulfhart

---

---

The sudden appearance of the Urbanmech had thrown Lyris in an unattainable situation. Unable to retreat, nor push for the Thunderbolt's flank without risking a shot from an AC 20 or take fire from the Thunderbolt directly. Every resounding boom from the Urbanmech caused her heart to pound in her chest. Just as visions of an autocannon round cleaving her mech in two flashed through her mind, there came another sound altogether. The humming thrum of what Lyris recognized was a powerful laser shot. It took a while for Lyris to realize the source of the shot from the HUD function of her neurohelmet. The superheated beam struck the enemy urbanmech and seemingly disabled it in one well aimed shot

 "Urbanmech right arm destroyed, Urbanmech knocked over."

Lyris recognized Johan's voice over the radio and breathed a sigh of relief-- she owed Mouse for this one. Before she could recover or take advantage of the sudden turn of events the Thunderbolt facing her dropped all interest in either her or Peter. It took Lyris a moment to correct her steeds stance before she could give chase, having not anticipated this strange reaction from the pirate mechwarrior. She wasted no time in giving chase, firing wild shots into the compromised armor of the heavy mechs rear. The mechwarrior pirate ignored all of these and continued its wild charge. It took her only a moment to realize the pirate's target as it ran toward their line. She pushed her engine until her steed had fallen into a full sprint, desperation plagued her thoughts as a spark of fear in her chest grew. What if she did not make it in time?

By the time she closed the distance once more the pirate had already engaged Johan's Riflemen in a deadly melee of metal on metal violence. Lyris cursed under her breath, but she had been offered one advantage at least. As the heavy pirate battlemech slammed its right arm into the Riflemen's leg, Lyris quickly rotated her mech's upper torso to the right -- hydraulics hissing and actuator motors roaring with the motion. At the tail end of her charge, she willed the upper body to swing around to the left again, using the momentum of her sprint and twist to send the oversized hatchet she carried into a deadly horizontal arc toward the rear of the Thunderbolt.

With a guttural growl, she aimed for the section of the Thunderbolt where upper torso connected its bottom legs. A resounding crash of whining metal and tearing iron echoed with the impact. The jolt was so violent in fact it rocked Lyris in her seat causing her to be flung forward slightly before her momentum became restrained by the harnesses that kept her rooted to her chair. She tasted blood as she realized she must have bitten her lip from the reckless move. Still, her blow was quite telling as her ax sunk rudely into the structure of the Thunderbolt.

It stumbled forward before arresting its momentum, however, before the pirate mechwarrior could recover fully from the blow Lyris opened the left palm of her haptic gauntlet. Her mech's hand began releasing the hatchet, which left it to rest in the back of the Thunderbolt. Metal whined, and sparks flew from the location of her attack. The massive bladed weapon had stuck fast directly into the motors that allowed the Thunderbolt to twist its torso. The pirate's heavy mech was now left unable to maneuver and retaliate against their aggressor. Lyris backed her Griffin off as the trio of lasers located in her mech's right charged with power.

A salvo of laser fire slammed into the already compromised back armor of the Thunderbolt. Her HUD revealed severe structural damage as the mechs internals became wrecked from the stream of laser fire. The pirate's mech still stood, however, and unable to turn in time, it instead took a lumbering step toward the Riflemen, perhaps hoping to charge directly into it now that it could no longer twist to punch with its fists.

 "Oh, sterben gerade!"She yelled in frustration.

She fired another salvo pushing her engine into the red zone as the heat began to build to near critical levels. Three lancing beams of green light cut a trail across the Thunderbolts rear structure, back and forth like the daft movements of a painter. This time, finally, she had found the components she had been hoping for as a massive explosion rocked across the Thunderbolts body as the LRM ammunition it carried cooked off. The entire upper left torso was at one instance engulfed in flames before it seemingly shattered and exploded, taking its whole left arm with it. The LRM launcher went as well as the thing rocked violently to one side, barely staying on its feet before finally falling with a ground shaking thud. Amidst the thunderous fall came a series of secondary explosions as missiles flew into the air amidst hot red shrapnel like a bizarre and horrible fireworks display.

Lyris pulled her mech back quickly as she instinctively shielded her cockpit with her left shield arm. As the explosions died down and the pauses between them grew longer Lyris let out a shuddering breath before keying communications.

"You still with us Mouse?" A layer of concern in her voice.

[User]
Thunderbolt down. Urbanmech crippled...

Then the PPC bolt from the Panther seared through the air and landed with an audible crackle that scrambled the HUD on his helmet momentarily, disrupting his reaction fire.

"Mattlov, break left," Hart's voice came over the calm. Milliseconds after executing the Captain's orders, the Panther was rocked by a barrage of autocannon and large laser fire, staggering. It took him closer to the Panther, into SRM range. It was a risk to run.

The Panther had firepower and armor, but not speed. The Shadow Hawk, twenty pounds heavier, had superior firepower at any range, an edge in maneuverability...and other advantages.

But that didn't stop a lucky hit from the SRM-4 rack on the smaller rack from digging into his Streak-SRM ammo supply. In the old days, an ammo explosion would cripple a mech, generally fatally, taking an arm off and eating away at the center torso and engines.

The ammo explosion still did damaged, but the armored cells minimized it even as the ammo was ejected with a loud thump, clang and a flare of cooked off missiles. The warning buzzes going off in his ears and the red flashes were entirely unnecessary -- he fucking well knew he had an ammo explosion.

His first priority was to recover from the hits, to stay up. He flared jump jets, adjusted balance, stepped, flared jets again to start the run and kept moving. The mech's balance was lighter with the ammo jettisoned, and he relied on the man-machine interface of the neurohelmet to keep his gait and handle the mech's movement.

He could see the fire continue as the Captain laid down the barrage, but there was a more important warning -- that Thunderbolt was starting to get up.

He placed another shot from the AC-5, even while calling it out, "TDR getting up, concentrate fire" on instinct, even as he lined up his ER large laser, trying to land on the weak points of the enemy's armor, trying to breach the internals and finish that beast off...