[System]
Age: 26

Gender: Male

Appearance: Kyle is slightly taller than average at 5'11" and has a wiry physique. There is some faint scarring near major joints (knees, hips, shoulders, etc) left over from the treatment that gave him his power. His facial features testify to his Asian heritage, though his nose is slightly misshapen from an incident in high school. He usually has a pair of polarized sports goggles on his face or around his neck to help protect his eyes when running at speed. He keeps his black hair cropped short and his face clean shaven to avoid getting in the way.

Personality: Kyle is a very patient person. He likes to sit back, observe a situation, and come up with a mental plan before acting. He does find using his powers a rush, and takes great satisfaction in using them to successfully carry out a plan. Because of his powers, he often has to make efforts to not move too quickly for other people to keep up with him.

Motive: Kyle started out his law enforcement career as a Guardian because he grew up during the crime wave that struck the city in the late 2030's. He joined the police force as a detective to prevent that sort of thing from happening again. When he learned of the missing Guardians, he volunteered for the Guardian Angel project to prevent a second super-powered crime wave.

Ability: Super Speed. Muscle twitch optimization means that Kyle can move much faster for the same amount of effort. For example, running at highway speeds is a light jog for him and he can perform reflex actions in a fraction of the time it would take a normal person to do so.

Team: (I will give you this)

Extras:
- Kyle often wears protective clothing similar to biker armor that complements his powers. It provides stab and bullet protection in addition to protection against impact and abrasion. This is necessary since tripping at speed can be very painful.
- Fighting wise, he has continued to practice and hone the fighting skills he was taught in the police academy (unarmed, baton, and handgun) as well as taking up knife fighting.

[User]
Thomas had sat through a question and some skippy answer by the authority without making a sound. But when that authority was questioned, he could not just sit by.

"I am sure that there is some legitimate reason that they could neither do that nor are able to tell us why."

Sadly, due to him standing up, he started to worry and instinctively, he defended his mind by taking the fear from his own mind and pulsing it out, in an attempt to reduce his own worry. It worked, but he quickly caught his action and started working to draw it back, starting with the director and moving around the room.

As Thomas made it to the two Angels, however, he noticed a great lack of fear. Like they were machines. This stuck him as extremely odd, but he blew it off.

[Assistant]
"I don't think it's a secret," Alex said quietly. She looked up, glad for the warmth of the cup between her hands as she continued in a level voice, "It sounds like this project was a risk, if our team leaders are the only 'successful' subjects. They probably didn't want to try it until it was necessary."

Maybe it was because her reasons for becoming a Guardian were more selfish than most, but Alex didn't particularly feel that the director owed them anything. They had all volunteered to be here--herself included--and they had all been given powers of some kind to do their jobs. It didn't seem like anyone's fault that someone more powerful had come along and made them a target. Frightening, absolutely, but that just made Alex more grateful that Ms. Nightshade and her associates were taking new measures to protect them.

She turned her attention to the man and woman the director had introduced and shrugged, the motion jostling the long, dark braid hanging over her shoulder. "Either way, you're putting yourselves in the line of fire to help us. So thanks."

Good job, Alex. Way to make friends and influence people. She was less than comfortable, having just contradicted a few of the people who might end up being her teammates, but she tried to stamp down the spike of anxiety she felt. If she was going to make a good impression on anyone, it might as well be the people trying to save her life.

[User]
Tavi

For all the hype, Tavi was disappointed by the two stiffs that shuffled out into the room. Chips? Really? Well, he supposed the enhanced physical capabilities were nice, and if they could change a few lights on the road for them that would be convenient. Evidently though others were not as content, and he couldn't for the life of him figure out why. The robots would be the first ones to get hit if everything went according to plan, why would anyone complain about an extra shield?

A few others seemed to share Tavi's sentiment, or at least something like it, but despite the issue approaching settlement he felt their time bordered on being wasted.

"This is all well and good," he said, motioning to Silvia and Caden. "They're both very brave, we'll have plenty of time to see that first-hand later, I'm sure. For now though, I believe I heard something about team-assignments and a tour. If I'm not mistaken, time isn't exactly something we have stockpiled, so..."

[Assistant]
Before the director could speak to address Jackson's concerns, she noticed a shift in Silvia's stance. Crossing her arms and putting most of her weight on her right leg, she stared down the Guardian blankly. Activating her eyes, Silvia could read the files on each of the Guardians as she passed over their faces. "Jackson Arrowsmith. Male, 24. Ability: Mind Manipulation, classification: level 3 ability. Initial compatibility: 80%; Current Compatibility: 97%." Caden's sigh was mixed with a chuckle as Silvia began her twisted explanation, already seeing where she was going with her rant.

"Touchy subject man, should of just held off with that one." He mumbled to himself, earning a disapproving look from the director standing beside him. Clearing his throat he approached Silvia and placed a hand on her shoulder to stop her from going any further. "What my friend here is trying to say, quite inelegantly I might add, is that your success as a Guardian will make you a failure as an Angel. From what we've found the more your brain takes to your ability the less the chip works. Even with a level one classification the compatibility with the chip drops drastically, we're living examples of that difference. Silvia expressed no ability but her initial compatibility with the chip was 90%, where as I expressed a partial ability and an initial chip compatibility of only 70%."

"We haven't found an answer yet as to what causes this incompatibility but until we do there is no way to modify the chip to work for you. For now you'll just have to settle for working with them, and hopefully sort this mess out long before we unlock the chips' mysteries." Director Nightshade's smile was kind but there was a fire behind her eyes that hinted to a much more serious woman, a look that never failed to creep Caden out. Looking down at her tablet the director tapped a few buttons, causing two holographic displays to appear on either side of her. Each display listed six names, belonging to the Guardians and Angels alike. "These are your teams, Guardians. From now on until this horror show is brought to an end, you will be training and working with these people. Good luck and enjoy your stay."  She nodded her goodbye before turning and walking out the door, the holographic displays remaining in the air.

"Alrighty guys, why don't we get this tour started. Jackson, Kyle and Rhiannon are with me. Thomas, Alexandria and Tavi are with Chuckles over there. Hopefully those not here right now will catch up soon." Caden glanced back at the names on the display with slight concern, an expression he quickly pushed aside. "Ready? Great, let's go." He said as he headed towards the door before Silvia, getting a shiver down his spine as he felt her eyes boring holes into the back of his head. "I'm going to start my guys off with the training rooms, so you start with living quarters." He called over his shoulder as he exited the room and into the hallway. Silvia turned her gaze to the holographic displays as they powered off at her command.

"Ready to see where you'll be living for a while?" Unlike before her voice seemed to have shaken off a little of its frost, but was still lacking the usual emotion found in a normal conversation.

[User]
Rhiannon nodded, satisfied with the Director's, and the Angels', answers. She had suspected that there would be a logical reason but she disliked being kept in the dark, especially when it came to information that their lives could be dependent upon. She sat down and let the rest of the presentation go ahead, her only query now answered. There was some disagreement amongst her fellow Guardians but that was hardly unexpected what with so many of them going missing recently. She hadn't lost any friends she knew that well but she could sympathise; the same thing had happened back home, where she had escaped from.

It was hard to get a measure on the two Angels, that much was certain. She knew from experience that it would be wrong to assess them as an emotionless robot and then a 'normal' guy; considering they had been chosen as Angels Rhiannon was sure that they were considerably more complex than first met the eye. She had rarely come across a 'normal' person who had succeeded in the Guardian programme and she figured that anyone from this new, more challenging one would have to be quite exceptional. Thus, and without complaint, she went after their new leader and fell into step beside him. She wasn't particularly eager; she just wanted to get acquainted with the new space and Caden as quickly as possible. There'd be less time for it down the road, after all and it never bode well when one did not know or trust their leader and protector much.

"Are you two the only Angels then? I mean... were there others who didn't make it?" Realising this wasn't the best opening gambit, she quickly switched tact. "Oh, and as you know I'm Rhiannon. I look forward to working with you, Caden."

[Assistant]
Thomas cringed when the names first started being placed, but then gave a sigh of relief when he was placed on Silvia's team. Thomas felt like he belonged on a team that wouldn't necessarily have a 'joker' as its leader. He quickly shook his head.

Nothing against Caden, Thomas snapped to his inner narrative-- using his inner narrative (wierd, I know)-- But he does seem like the kind of guy who would crack a joke and THEN crack some necks, rather than the other way around. I'm glad I was put where I am.

Thomas laughed to himself and let a small smile show without realizing it. It was a strange feeling to have again-- happiness, that is. Laughter was something Thomas was having to get used to again, as with the last few months being absolute torture. The entire training, Thomas had spent trying to learn to control his power over nightmares and phobias. It never helped when he could hear the screams of the people passing by his room. Going into defensive mode during that time, his mind would constantly shoot out waves of immense fear, weaving their way into anyone's mind who drew too close. Now, Thomas was glad to say that he could manage the thoughts in his head and would be able to keep from letting his power roam free.

Now I control my power. And never again will I let it control me.

[User]
Alex pushed herself to her feet, nodding at Sylvia. "Yes," she said, "thank you." It couldn't hurt to be polite, even if a part of her wished she'd been placed with Sylvia's friendlier companion. She would just have to work that much harder to develop a rapport with the team leader she did have, and be grateful that the reserved young woman at least seemed to take their safety very seriously.

Scooping up her backpack and tossing the now-empty coffee cup, Alex went to stand next to the nervous-looking man—she wondered which one he was, Tavi or Thomas—who had also moved in Sylvia's direction. She held a hand out to him, deciding it also couldn't hurt to start getting a feel for her teammates. It might give her a hint as to who was open to making friends, and people always felt more real to her after a handshake.

"Hi," she said. "I'm Alex."

She realized too late that, instead of finding the handshake reassuring, as she did, this man might be uncomfortable. She cursed inwardly, but it was too late to withdraw her hand. All she could do was shift her backpack on her shoulder and hope he would trust her small, friendly smile.

[Assistant]
Thomas looked over as a young woman approached him and held out her hand.

"Hi," she said, "I'm Alex."

Being the extremely courteous man Thomas prided himself in being, he immediately took her hand in both of his and gave a firm, but reassuring shake, immediately shifting to holding just the girl's fingertips. He brought her hand up to his lips and gave a small, gentle peck.

"Thomas," he said, smiling as he lifted his head and slowly released her hand, "A pleasure."

He could sense a small amount of nervousness and tried using the eye contact he made to pull it away from Alex to leave her with a calming sensation if possible.

"Looks like we shall be together on a team." Thomas gave a heartwarming smile.

[User]
Thank god, they actually seemed to be moving on. Tavi read the names over and decided almost instantly that he didn't care about any of those letters aside from the team leader or his own. He didn't know these people yet, until they all stepped in line they were just names, and so he let his focus turn to miss Silvia. To tell the truth he was happy to be siding with the one who showed at least some level of seriousness, though the woman was still an absolute stiff.

A couple others moved to stand beside her, and Tavi's attention snapped to them. Thomas and Alex, they looked normal enough, the guy even had a little flair to his introduction, something Tavi could respect. However, he wasn't interested in making a big show right now, not in this little room anyway, and not before he saw their living arrangements.

He strode up beside Silvia and the others, straightening the vibrant scarf 'round his neck and giving his hair a fluff. A quick glance was cast to Thomas and Alex, and he gave a slight bow of the head. "Tavi Jackspar, one and only."

[Assistant] Kyle quickly caught up with Caden and Rhiannon. "My name is Kyle Yu, I used to be a detective with the NGPD's Major Crimes Unit. I actually helped look into a few of the missing Guardian cases before I came here. What about you two?"  Kyle quickly remembered that he had left the last member of the group, the one that had been tardy, in the room behind them and mentally kicked himself for not waiting for him. It seemed rude to start introductions without Jackson, or at least he assumed the missing person was Jackson as 'Rhiannon' didn't strike him as particularly masculine, being there. Kyle could easily guess the names of the man and woman, but it still seemed rude to not let themselves introduce themselves.


[System]
Here we go~
Age: 19

Appearance:

Username: iNNoCENT13

Chat color: Hot Pink (#ff69b4)

Device(s): Lenovo Y920for day use; A plethora of towers and screens connected haphazardly at home, affectionately called "The Graveyard"

Occupation: Idol

Cyberskills: Decryption; Information Gathering; Distraction; Data Recovery; Putting something on a network is practically offering it to Himeno.

Personality: During the day, in the "real world", Himeno is nothing but smiles. To the world at large, she is a sweetheart with boundless enthusiasm for life, known for donating much of her income to different charities. Behind closed doors however, she is the complete opposite: a bitter cynic, who wants nothing to do with the world at large. She enjoys flaunting her supremacy in anyway she can. For all her pride, Himeno does have a poor opinion of herself, to the point that she regularly trolls her own social network accounts - though sometimes she does it to revel in the ignorance of the public. Surprisingly, she tends to be a loyal friend to those that she considers friends.

Background: Born in Canada to a musician and her producer, but was raised in Japan. In her youth, Himeno was relatively normal child, if albeit shy. This soon changed, however. In a bid to get her to open up, her parents managed to get her to audition for an idol group that a family friend was managing. With a fake smile and a couple of months of intensive training, she made the cut. Between her appearance and her reserved personality, she quickly became one of the more popular members. It was then that she began to notice the things that people hid from others: the jealous glances, the angry whispers, and all the lies. Knowing this, she grew bitter at the world.

She would spend more and more time hidden away from the world, exploring the darker parts of the internet in her downtime. At first, it was just forums and memes, but eventually she stumbled upon a hacker who was a fan. It was love at first site, Himeno and hacking. Soon it consumed all her time, outside of work. She hasn't done any hacking for any serious reason, typically using her skills to uncover secrets - spreading some, and merely keeping others. However, she has helped others under her user name to distract certain individuals while they did their work. Eventually she became popular enough to go solo, but she was a lot more satisfied when her friend introduced her to the chat room.

[User]
"Welcome to 2020. The world as we know it is about the same as it was three years ago on the same day. Technology has continued to advance at an alarming rate, with new concepts and devices fighting harder and harder for ad space. Global politics have not improved, with tension between nations increasing and alliances straining. Countries such as North Korea and Iraq have not yet followed up on threats of nuclear war, but public statements from both suggest that extremist nations are advancing far too fast for anyone's comfort. Global acts of terrorism and retaliation are all part of the show, with some countries showing their hand openly and others working quietly raising the stakes in the shadows.

"On the flip side, a new president has taken over the executive branch of the USA and promises of improvements have raised spirits. Government surveillance has become further invasive, though the nation has heard many a promise about protection of personal information. However, unemployment has lowered with the government offering new programs a year ago for talented computer experts to stress test security measures for a reasonable salary, effectively making white-hat hacking (called "Network Exploitation and Regional Vulnerability Elimination," or NERVE for short) a viable career. A majority of the public is now willing to trade privacy for jobs, to the extent that new legislation is calling for a NERVE Division of Homeland Security.

"None of this has directly affected you. News from far away still feels far away, and NERVE operations haven't advanced as much as they claim to have, meaning your personal life and less-than-legal career has gone untouched. As of December 26th, 2020, it's business as usual for you. For now."

[Assistant]
---

Kelly Watson wiped and gazed out of her window as snow befell the City of New York - winter is here. Sitting in her bedroom in front of her Macbook, the tired girl sipped on her mug of coffee relaxedly as she scrolled through the social media. She had just finished another day of shots as a bikini model for the winter issue of a fashion magazine under the harsh cold weather, and she decided to laze her evening away doing nothing else.

Just then, a message popped up on her laptop's screen.
"15:gtgdjit iwt htgktg, 3:fkdwurrp wzr kdv ehhq frpsurplvhg; 21:rz cvqz wzzi rvoxczy."

What happened? Could it be NERVE, or the rumored NK hackers group... Keeper_3 grimaced as she deciphered the code. There had been attacks on public websites recently by an unknown organization. Are they targeting on dark sites now? But what the heck, there goes my free weekend, switching her laptop into hacking mode, she went into action.

CHAT_ROOM3 / SYSTEM

There is no unusual activity in the chatroom's system, but I should take precautions. Maybe a change in IP addresses and some several tweaks in settings will do.

CHAT_ROOM3 / SYSTEM

CHAT_ROOM3 / SYSTEM

---

CHAT_ROOM3 / SYSTEM

CHAT_ROOM3 / SYSTEM

[User]
---

Aria glared intensely at the screen of her desktop, fingers clacking away at the keyboard. She had been assiged by the IT at Fernly High to do a diagnostic check on the school's website, since some kid had apparently mad a threat to hack it. Aria had known the kid, and he couldnt hack his way out of a paper bag, but she had to return a fresh diagnostic report to the school on the fifth. Her backdoor finder began to fill the screen with text.

Bdoor.bat

Suddenly the program closed, and her desktop had a new icon. The icon was named HACKERS.CHATROOM and had the system default icon. Aria didnt know what it was, but she had noticed mention of it on NERVE's servers the last time she accessed them. All she had found was some emails discussing it and that apparently they could not find evidence of it. She clicked the icon, not knowing what would happen, but curious none the less. Tor's familliar onion icon popped up. So it was a webpage... Some text appeared on the black background.

CHAT_ROOM3 / WELCOME

Figuring this was secure enough, Ari went with her hacker name:

CHAT_ROOM3 / WELCOME

[Assistant]
"Hm?"

Gunther took his feet off his desk and sat upright to read the newest public chat message. It was from the Keeper. Something about server instability.

"NERVE, eh," he muttered, opening a new browser tab and searching the name, limiting it to News sources and sorting it by Most Recent. He knew about NERVE. At this point, though, who didn't? They were becoming more of a threat every day, especially since the government was on the edge of offering a steady source of income. Black hat hackers and cyber criminals who weren't doing so well were changing sides and using their connections to make a good bit of money from turning in those who were once allies. He had to admit, it was an excellent system. The government was making an enormous long-term investment in cyber security by essentially recruiting the bad guys to do what they couldn't.

It could have made a half-decent plot for a movie.

Of course, their plans were not without consequence, as the most recent news article reported the murder of am ex-hacker NERVE operative. A mysterious message had been left on the body. Some kind of cipher. The news outlet had provided a scan of it and Gunther took the liberty of downloading it to check out later on. A thought occurred to him, and he brought up the active registry of NERVE operatives, something he kept updated both from public records and snooping through the deep web. There was an informal whistle-blower protection service offered to hackers-turned-NERVE that prevented their real name and ID from appearing in the public registry, but even the best hackers couldn't maintain a double lifestyle and "missing" cyber criminals could have changed jobs. Gunther took a moment to highlight the dead man's name and scratch it off the list. One more down.

Down?...

Gunther refreshed the page. The chatroom was still down. Guess Keeper_3 was being a little extra thorough. He opened the thin notebook on his desk and wrote himself a note to check in with a certain vulture. Maybe there was a whole new market opening up. Satisfied for now, he locked his laptop, pulled on a hoodie and snatched a dog leash from a hook by his door, giving the metal clip a little jingle. Zero was at his bedroom door in a second, sitting and thumping his tail loudly on the ground.

"You want to take a walk?"

The shepherd barked in return, generating a small grin from the German. He clipped the leash on and slipped into a pair of sneakers. Guess the chat could wait for now.

[User]
---

26th of December, 2020

Today was a normal day. I had ended the season.
Nah, today was a bad...
I had no words to say about today. Today marked the end of our fishermen season, but it ain't feel the same. No more of the joy of catching big fish. No more the chilling sense as the wind of the sea tried to blew me and my cap off my boat. No more of those salty taste of the ocean, only smoke. The fishes had long gone, fear of the oil spread that did not contain. Battleships with their huge noise now become a common sight. Maybe only a few more years and I will have to sell off my boat.

On the other hand, the hunting season had come back. Along with that, the Hackers Chatroom had also reopened. I also joined, hoping to see if there are new contracts. For now, it seems that there aren't any contracts yet. But I hope there will be soon.

And finally, the Brother had returned. But it is very strange. He only called me to wipe out all the other. Strange, request. But I shall happily do. Just bribe the cops, but the head of drugs is the hard case to crack. Maybe I will pull some strings from the German and the Italian. But it is just maybe.

Joshua continues to type on his computer, only to stop when the clock strikes twelve. Placing one of his hand on the long and bushy brown beard while tip lightly on the cigar before continue to smoke, Joshua scanned the room. On the glass table that Joshua is resting his feet, lay an ashtray and a cup of coffee. The tree in the corner is too green, probably because of it being made of plastic. The carpet had been clean nicely. The heater is on. And no one sends him a birthday congratulation last time Joshua check. And he feels nice about it, especially that is when people don't remind him that he had walked on this Earth for 30 years long. But that hyping sense of not being old and nobody cares about me could only last for a minute before a message popping up on his Samsung Galaxy S8 (rumors that this could blow up a tank or kill a person when aim at his or her head). And the topic was simple.

---

---

Only the silence and the man being frozen to death in a perfectly heated room. Outside, the winds continued to howl, whether to laugh at the sight or to moan at the victims to come.

[Assistant]
"Hai, hai! Thanks for your support everybody! I love you all!"

Like a true idol, "Hime#" called out to her cheering fans, giving them all one last flamboyant wink before exiting the stage. The crowds roared with renewed vigor as the girl basically waltzed off the stage. She had just finished the last song of the three month long tour, but there were no hints of exhaustion on her expression. After all, she was doing it for her fans. She was their Christmas Angel. Disgusting. With one final wave, the idol vanished back-stage.

Eventually, another person walked out of the staff-only door. Her posture slouched, and an annoyed scowl on their face. Few of the staff that still lingered gave the figure suspicious glances, but it wasted no time in going past them and settling into a small nondescript sedan parked a few blocks away. Sometimes, even it was surprised as how much a change of expression changed how people saw you. Rolling her eyes at the thought, she scowled.

"Plebs."

With another pain in the ass tour in the bank, Himeno Lockhart emerged from her cheerful prison and made her way home. It was pretty amazing how much people were willing to pay to watch a girl make a fool of herself on stage. Fortunately for her sanity, she had the money to bury herself under her blanket in her favorite frozen room for another couple of months. Fortunately, the last stop had been close to home, so the girl didn't have to listen to crappy Christmas jingles for too long. Of course, the sombre news of a dead NERVE operative was equally dreadful, but the girl soon wiped both from her memory.

"I'm home!" She called out with a grin, causing the house to rouse from its long slumber, thanks to the wonders of technology. The air-conditioning set itself to a chilly zero degrees and the various screens scattered about displayed lifeless static. After making herself comfortable - huddled under her blanket with a bag of chips, several liters of iced tea and music blasting from her massive headphones - Himeno smiled. Now, let's see who's here.

WELCOME TO THE GARDEN OF THE Graveyard

As a special holiday favor, she decided to opt out of the token attempt to mine the server for data. Had to make sure that Keeper stayed on her toes.

CHAT_ROOM3 / WELCOME


[System]
Age: She's lost count. Late 1000s, maybe? She looks to be about 28. (As the author, I know. She's 1857 years old.)
Gender: Female
Species: Elementalist
Appearance: Long white hair, blue eyes, lightly tanned skin, lithe, 5'7". She wears brown leggings, a dark green tunic, brown sandals, and a silver chain from which a tanzanite pendant dangles.
Personality: Miriamne is a quietly sad woman; her smiles rarely reach her eyes. She's kind to all, but especially children. When she gets angry, it comes out as quiet disappointment, as if she knew you could do better.
Powers/Skills: She has perfect control over air and water, moderate control over earth, and very little control over fire. She could theoretically live to be 3000, but no elementalist has lived that long since the dark ages. She is a wonderful musician, preferring to play piano and ocarina.
Other: Miriamne is not a fighter, at all. She hates hurting any living thing, be it human, animal, or supernatural. However, she has had to use her powers in self defense, and it still gives her nightmares sometimes.

[User] "I am Miriamne." She bestowed a gentle smile on Aiden. "It is a pleasure to meet you. Do you have a request?" That was the reason most people came up to her; well, that and to flirt with her.

[Assistant]
Ved
He leaped from his tree, landing on the soft earth with a loud thump. He had grown large over the years, nearly 13 feet, and well over 900 pounds. He was larger than most Kapre his age, and as Kapre never stopped growing, perhaps he could one day grow enough to blow clouds of smoke that would rain down on mankind. He moved slowly, walking with his cane in one hand and the large pipe in another. Taking a long smoke, he blew out a few puffs of smoke then hooked the pipe in his mouth, biting down on the stem to keep it still.

Today was the day he would sit outside his favorite spot, and listen to the beautiful young women create music. He would of course remain unseen, and would sit across the street on the roof of a short building. His ears were keen, and could easily focus on the sounds of the musical desk.

As he neared the building opposite of the resturant, he simply walked up the side of the building's stone wall, then propped himself on a roof ledge. He sat quietly, listening to the music and watching the people pass. So many faces were white, how white men disgusted him. They had only ever brought him heartache and misery, never any semblance of peace.

He heard the woman speak, and something about the tone of her voice caused him to break a rule that had been in place for over three hundred ears. He made himself visible to her, but her alone.

[User] From where she sat, Miriamne could see out the window, so she saw when the Kapre revealed himself. Her eyes widened imperceptibly, surprised that he dared to let himself be seen. Nodding just a tiny fraction, she hoped that he understood that she would come out and see him as soon as she clocked off for a break. First, however, she had to play a couple more songs. She waited patiently for Aiden to speak again.

[Assistant]
Ved
He understood, seeing the nod with his keen eyes, and smiled gently. He was nervous if he were to be honest, it had been decades since he had last interacted with humanity, and he was excited as well. He longed for a friend, an aquantance, anything truly. He was lonely, and it was good that he was finally bruning an ancient bridge.

He sat outstreched, with one leg dangling from the roof and the other propped against the ledge and tucked under the hanging leg, his arms resting in his lap. Perhaps this stranger could welcome him to new company, after all, If she sat on him he would become visible to everyone around him.

But maybe he had made a mistake, maybe she knew of the Kapre through legends passed on and perhaps she knew of his precious stone. She could be a great doer of evil, and wish to have the power to crush all who stood in her way. But on the same coin their was a chance she was a lover of the Kapre, and would wish for their numbers to rise again, and wish for a race even better than the ones prior. Larger, stronger, more open to others and less prone to Isolation.

But regardless of his thoughts, he Took a deep puff of purple and blue hinted smoke, and he waited, patiently, his leg swinging lazily.

[User]
Kornesin noticed her looking out the window and nodding, and followed her eyes to the roof tops across the road. There was no one there.

"Yes I do. Will you call me some time?" he said as he handed her a business card. "I host event for my business and many times I find something quite lacking. Good music. My assistant usually books a no name pop band to play some light ditty in he background. I much prefer the soft melodies of a piano. Get a hold of me if you are interested." Kornesin turned and walked out of the restaurant. He glanced up at the roof, then looked around. Curious about what she was looking at, Kornesin crossed the street and entered one of the stores. He looked around the store while listening around with his advanced hearing to try and find out what she was looking at.

[Assistant]
Well, that was new. Miriamne looked at the card, rather interested. This was the first time she had been asked to play for something bigger than the birthday party of the man who had requested Fur Elise. He was a sweet old man, and she had been honored to be asked to play at his party... she was getting off track. Tucking the card into her bag, she told the restaurant owner that she was taking a break, and headed outside.
It was relatively easy for her to get up onto the roof, but she still had to use a discreet bit of air manipulating to stop herself from falling. Seating herself next to the Kapre, she looked out over the town, swinging her legs a bit. "I've never seen your kind so near to humans before." Miriamne remarked. "It's a bit of a relief to meet another supernatural, to be honest." She looked over at him and gave a small smile. "My name is Miriamne."

[User]
Ved
 He looked over to her, smiling a bit.
"We are always near mankind, though it id true we are rarely seen."
 He mused gently, taking a long puff from his pipe, looking he over. He hadn't seen a person up close in a few hundred years, and thought fondly of how smooth their composition was, how soft and frail they truly seemed. It was a change from his own bark-like skin and grassy hair.
"I am Ved."
 He stated plainly with a smile, continuing to look her over. Some people would suggest that he was checking her out, but he didn't know of women in that manner.

[Assistant] "It is a pleasure to meet you, Ved." Miriamne noted that he hadn't seem to pick up on her unhumanity, despite her practically having admitted it. Maybe he just didn't care.

[User]
Ved
"The pleasure is mine, to be graced by beauty such as yours."
 He took a slow drag from his pipe, blowing out a bit of smoke at a time, circles forming as they floated upward, then dissipating into the sunny sky. He was a bit confused at the word supernatural, for he had never heard it before. But nonetheless, Something was different about this human, he could almost taste the magic in the air around her, perhaps she had been an angle in another life, for the air tasted sweet, like vanilla and strawberry. He had met few people with a taste of magic about them, only Shamans and Druids ever had their own distinctive flavors, but they were always far subtler than hers, only a hint of flavor, but with her it was as strong as the smoke in his pipe, which was potent enough to kill any human who puffed on it.
"Where did you learn to create sounds from the lovely table?"
 He asked gently, he had never encountered instruments other than the crude pipes and drums made by the men and women native to his home. Stringed instruments were as foreign to him as electricity, and he still faced great confusion at the great metal beasts that could move almost as quickly as he could. Perhaps they contain demons, he thought to himself, his mind easily wandering from the task at hand. He had once ran into large wolves that could move so quickly they blurred out of sight, after telling his chief they disappeared, and he had yet to come across another beast nearly as great as them.

[Assistant] Miriamne blushed a bit when Ved called her beautiful. When he asked about the 'lovely table', she was momentarily confused, then realized that he probably meant the piano. "It's called a piano. I learned how to play it from a man named Wolfgang Mozart. Lovely fellow, he was." Pulling a bit of moisture from the air, she began to play with it, confident that it was small enough that no one down below would see it.

[User]
Ved
He watched her, unsurprised with her control over her own magic. He watched tge water appear from nowhere, and smiled gently, opening his palm, a small vine grew up, spiraling up and thickening
"Not many have such a grasp on magic."
He complemented smiling, transfering the small vine from his palm to a crack in the cement.

[Assistant]
"Thank you." Miriamne sent her water to nourish the new vine. "I've been practicing."

Alanna decided to get a bag of mints and walked to the checkout lane with her groceries. Paying quickly, she walked out with a smile on her face to hide the sadness she felt. The cashier who had helped her was near death, she felt it. Popping a mint in her mouth, she decided to check out the bookstore nearby. Maybe they would have something new to read.

[User]
Ved
He smiled gently as the vine grew, standing up, he offered his hand for her to take. He wanted to take her to the forest, and show her what humanity had done, and ask her what there was he could do to regrow his homeland and reintroduce his people to their native lands. He had over 800 years to think of a solution, and he could not find one. Perhaps his mind was too simple for a complex answer.
"Please, come with me."
He requested, his hand still outstretched, Waiting patiently.

[Assistant] Miriamne thought for a moment, and decided that she could spare the time. "Of course." Standing, she accepted his hand and waited for him to lead the way.

[User]
Ved
Taking her hand he knelt down, blowing deep pure smoke into her mouth and nose. At first it had no effect, but then it slowly began to force a drowsiness upon her, and within about 45 seconds she fell asleep, dreaming of what life was once like prior to the European Infestation.

A young boy, about 14 years of age stood facing you, his eyes bright and smiling, before grabbing your wooden hand and pulling you along. You were still very young, only about 1200 years old, and often spent your days playing with the other children, Human and Kapre. As he ran he let go of your hand, and you jogged lightly to keep up.

A loud crack sounded, like that of lightning, you look up to see if it was storming, but the cloud was clear. You look back to the young boy, and as your eyes meet his there is another echoing crack, and you see a splatter of red on the ground, as the boy falls in front of you...

You hid, the white men had found your home and you knew if they found you you would be gone in a second. It was a week after you had recieved your pipe and they had come, swinging axes and shooting, killing anything that was in their path. One neared your tree and you felt a wave of hatred wash over you, and you leapt down, tearing into him and the others that came running in the sounds of screams.

Minutes latter you stood over the fallen bodies. Perhaps now, they would stop sending humans to attack your home...

Your forests and kin had been decamated, the once proud lands of your people were occupied by hundreds of thousands of humans, all completely unaware of the crimes they had commited against your kind.

The pipes magic wore off, and she would awaken in the arms of Ved, a few dozen feet in the air, high up in an old tree.

[Assistant] Miriamne woke with tears in her eyes. "What was that?" She asked, voice shaking a small amount. "Was that... your past?" In response to her tears, water began to gather around them, swirling in a sphere shape. It was beautiful, but to Miriamne, all it meant was that she had lost control, if only slightly.


[System]
Age: 24
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Class: Cavalry-Woman
Appearance:

Though is seldom seen without her horse
Personality: A proud and disciplined knight serving the army of her beloved home country of Velt. She will gladly follow orders from high-ups and is more than capable of carrying out orders and giving commands. Less talkative, Cristine tends to only be loud while calling cadence. She seldom listens to music, and so spends a bulk of her time humming, humming military cadences. She refers to her comrades by their ranks, and civilians by either sir or ma'am. She is rarely seen outside of uniform. Cristine is also very invested in exercise, running three miles every morning. Naturally, she has some hardcore abs.
Brief Backstory: Cristine was born to a minor noble family in a small castle town which ran a mine. In the middle of nowhere, the town relied on trade to live. Their export of coal and precious metals was what made the town. Still, it was rarely prosperous. More focused on work, the townsfolk barely had time for celebration. The nobles, the house of Wykes, rarely threw public parties. Various problems lead to the downfall of house Wykes. The ore was running low, gas leaks escaped from the mines, and the town was under constant attack by various invaders. Cracking under pressure, the town collapsed first with a citizen riot, then an invasion. The only survivor was a young Cristine Wykes, who was found later by a knight sent by the king to investigate. At her young age, Cristine was unable to give any detailed information. Cristine later became a knight. She saw one battle as an enlisted soldier. Private Wykes was not so stellar, but she managed to take a few lives without ending up dead herself. Soon enough, she became Sergeant Wykes.
Equipment: A sword, a shield, a sword breaker, and a pocket knife. Her sword is forged of steel and about as long as her upper body. She uses a heater shield with her family crest on it. The Wykes family crest is a crescent moon shape with the open end facing up with two crossed swords in the middle. Under the moon is the family motto: SUA SPONTE.
Abilities: Strength, endurance, and speed which come from being a knight. She is also a capable horseman.

[User] "Um... Miss Palayen... don't you think looking so angrily at everyone might drive them away?" the already pre-recruited nun wondered, continuing to sit beside the diminutive paladin and very carefully keeping hold of her drink. Unlike the alcohol-averse paladin, Sophia had no real dislike for it... not that she wanted to get inebriated before a mission, but it would have been unsightly to sit in here and not order something. Plus, unlike her more dangerous companion, the harpy really didn't like drinking milk. It was one of those things her people had absolutely no ability to procure naturally, after all.

[Assistant]
"Please, Lady Tanya," said the third occupant of the table. "Such behaviour will do little but draw the attention of unsavoury sorts!" he advised. He was tall, almost abnormally so, and his handsome face was framed by his longer-than-regulation hair. He had a small glass of a red liquid in front of him and had been sipping on it all eve. If he had earned the ire of his companions while doing so, well, he gave every indication that he didn't notice.

His name was Marc Ferrus, and he was also a Paladin. Armed with only his short sword and also out of his armor, he looked far more at ease here than his other paladin cohort did. Perhaps it was due to his gentle, easygoing nature. It wasn't hard to fit in with people. He had certainly made a lot of friends on the way here.

"Miss Sophia is right," Marc continued, nodding to their harpy friend. She was truly a noble ally in the fight for justice. "A gentle touch is required here. And perhaps a mite of shifty-ness." Did he really just say that? The honest, good natured Paladin who would never lie on his honour proposing something shifty? Well, he was standing up now, and moving towards the bar. Quiet words were exchanged between the barkeep man and the astonishingly tall paladin, before Marc turned to address the bar.

"Friends! We are embarking upon a great quest, but we have limited openings!" he boomed. "The first individuals we deem worthy for our quest will receive free drinks for the remainder of the eve! Truly a tempting offer, yes?"

That aught to get everyone's attention. Of course, all that talk about unsavoury sorts and Marc had forgotten it himself! Still, he'd see who rocked up.

[User]
Leander continued walking down the path, his staff making a small tapping sound every time he moved it further down the path. He was eager to find an inn, or at least some place with shelter, to stay the night. He had no interest in sleeping undefended, under only the night sky. As he walked, he eventually made his way to a tavern. Well, it was certainly better than the night sky. Leander grabbed his money bag and checked to see just how much he had left. Satisfied he had enough for a night's lodgings, he made his way inside.

Leander made his way past drunk adventurers and weary travelers to an empty seat at the counter. He was about to ask the bartender if a room was available when someone shouted something about the Prison-Castle. Normally, he would have ignored it. After all, it was usually a young fool who was lured in by the promise of treasure. What caught his attention this time, however, was that it was a paladin who spoke the invitation. Curious, he turned around to see who it was, and his eyes landed on a purple-haired woman of short stature.

Leander was rather curious as to why a paladin of all people would dare venture into the tomb of Mad King Haldric. After all, it was, quite literally, a collection of death traps and monsters. Plus, paladins weren't exactly known for being foolhardy. They must have some sort of mission. However, were they really so short staffed as to be forced to rely on the help of mercenaries? Or were the mercenaries merely cannon fodder? Either way, Leander was too curious to ignore this any longer.

Leander left his seat to approach the female paladin and her accomplice, as well as the other paladin who used a more... interesting method of recruitment for this mission of theirs. Leander had no interest in the alcoholic drinks, but perhaps he would join them anyway. "A paladin on a mission to the tomb of Mad King Haldric?" Leander asked Tanya. "I must admit, I am curious about this endeavor. Perhaps you will find it in your best interests to bring me along."

[Assistant]
Fieri Angharad looked up at the small, rotten palisade separating the supposed tomb of King Haldric the Eccentric, and undulated with anticipation. The tomb was uproariously popular, and many adventurers had visited it in the past. "The Breadwinner", they called it, thanks to its inexplicable supplies of meager wealth and self-replenishing supply of common foes to whet one's blade on. All it took to find the place was to line the palms of a nearby guard, forester, or farmer with copper. The path to it was very slightly overgrown, and the telltale depressions scattered along the path very clearly marked where previous bands of novice adventurers had rested.

With snakelike agility, Fieri wormed her way through one of the many holes in the palisade, and began the trek up the hill to the castle's ruined gates. All she knew of this place was that it was a reliable way to find easily-enchanted equipment, and that it was a favored haunt of the kind of person that would gladly leap headfirst into the wild blue yonder for nothing but some enchanted junk. The only hard part here, Tieri thought, is finding someone to do it. She thumbed the hilt of her enchanted knife, and slithered up to the castle's main gates. For better or worse, she'd find adventurers, and she would sell things to them.

[User]
Sergeant Wykes had been on leave for quite some time. She believed she would have gotten word from the King should he have any issues which needed to be taken care of. At her low rank, they must have needed her for something! Escorting some nobles, capturing deserters, breaking out bandit dens... something! Wykes, or Cristine when she was out of uniform, spent a bulk of her time drinking. Her musculature had seemed to deterred many would-be suitors, and in some cases attracted some unwanted attention. She wasn't really embarrassed- or at least she didn't like to believe she was. Naturally, Sergeant Wykes preferred being in uniform to deter some more awkward conversations.

It wasn't long before the grizzled veteran had put down another drink. She knew it was killing her slowly, but couldn't help herself. "An-hick*" she attempted to speak, in a dizzied manner. It wasn't long before a young woman spoke, then another paladin with a bit more chest in his voice which caught Sergeant Wyke's attention.

"WORTHY!?" Sergeant Wykes shouted, standing up from her stool. "I'll show you worthy!" she said, walking over to the paladin in a drunken stupor. She sat, as the fourth seat of the table and held out her left arm, hand open. "You know what to do" the Sergeant challenged.

[Assistant]
"Indeed I do", a voice called from a darkened corner of the room. Al sauntered out, a cheeky grin on his face as he raised a large stein to his lips to chug some ale.

"Pwaaah~" he sighed, pushing the tiny paladin aside to sit across from the knight. Placing his arm on the table, he wrapped his fingers around Cristine's.
"Thanks for doing this. This is the first exciting thing to happen all night. They need more games here, you know." he smiled at Cristine.

[User]
The knight's eyes glowed and her nose puffed with pride. "Hmph!" she grunted. Sergeant Wykes expected the younger female paladin to respond, seeing as how she appeared to be the leader of the trio with the bigger male paladin, and the smaller bird-woman. Instead, Sergeant Wykes felt a thicker, courser hand than she had expected. Looking up from the hand, she had traced the arm to the body of a young male.

The eyes on the Sergeant widened slowly, and a barely noticeable blush had overcome her face. Sergeant Wykes had never touched a male before. Masculine as she liked to believe herself to be, she had never dreamed of touching a male. In fact, she had not even been so close with her male comrades in spite of the advances of the younger recruits.

She had to keep her bearing. "Alright" Sergeant Wykes announced, her mouth kept open. It was as though her lips were moving on their own. "Let's go then!" she said, applying pressure to push Al's arm down.

[Assistant]
"Let's go!" Al shouted back, and with a grunt, pushed against her hand. His muscles tightened as he turned his entire torso, yanking the knight from her chair and into the air. Turning his body around, he flailed Cristine around in a circle, before pulling her back down onto the table. The legs immediately gave way like a schoolgirl confessing to her crush, and the table collapsed onto the ground, the knight on top.

"...Miss, are you okay? Miss?"

[User]
Tanya let out a huff. Oh, she had to play nice with the people drinking their minds away here? Okay, fine, the kind of people she wanted would ideally be mostly sober and therefore would be very quick to pick up on any harsh words... but... whatever! Wouldn't they get lured in by the treasure in the ruined old castle? Sure, it was 'popular' in a manner of speaking, but there was a reason she had a target there. No-one had ever reached the lower two levels of the decaying ruin. And, indeed, shortly after the attempt to appeal for the creation of a party, a cloaked man approached.

"That depends on your skills," she said, simply, when he suggested that it may be in their best interest to take him along. If he was in actuality a pumpkin farmer wrapped up in a travelling cloak he would hardly be the useful sort to take into a dungeon, would he? Still, he was not likely to be a simple farmer if he was considering such an offer. "Sophia, if you'd like you can give him an explanation, for now..."

The short, purple-haired girl trailed off as a woman in the garb of the King's Army, smelling strongly of spirits, approached their table and slammed her arm down to challenge... whoever to an arm wrestling contest. Well, she wasn't going to dignify that. "... If you're here to ask about our mission, then you'll have to-"

Someone pushed her to the side. Tanya, not exactly being resistant to such a thing unprepared, stumbled off the bench and caught herself, Repharion's scabbard rattling against the wood. Furious, she swiftly stood up and turned to face a rather sizable man, who had shoved in to take the offer of an arm-wrestling competition.

"...You idiot..." Tanya's violet eyes narrowed. What kind of person did that? It wasn't like she'd been unnoticeable. "Are your heads as thick as the drink she's overindulged in?!"

Tanya gave a swift gesture towards the soldier. "This table's not for..."

She stared blankly as the results of the stupid arm-wrestling competition resulted in the table's legs giving out. After a moment of silence, the short paladin let out a sigh. There was no good expression of anger that truly covered this kind of situation. "... Well then, I'm sure the owner of this tavern is going to be thrilled when he sees that. Perhaps some, oh, I don't know, rational, logical thought may have been in order? Reon's Peace! Are you two even sober enough to understand my offer?!"

[Assistant] "I... am not a miss!" Cristine sat up to slap Al away. Her other arm, the one that had actually made contact with his, ended up in a mangled mess. It wasn't enough to be truly crippling, but still enough to be quite disgusting to look at. In other words, it was pain Sergeant Wykes was used to. The knight struggled as she attempted to stand up on her broken arm in her drunken state. "I" she hiccuped "I work for a living!"


[System]
Found the perfect picture
Nickname: Kron.
Age: 41
Were-species: Were-Crow
Abilities: As a black Feathered crow he has an easer time staying undetected while in the dark. As a Were-Crow he has a vast intelligence with the ability to change and "Adapt" to his surroundings. Alin has a amazing memory never really forgetting those he meant, always formal with his greetings Alin keeps his conversations short and to the point.
Favorite Song: Feel Good Inc. By Gorillaz
Back Story: Alin is a hired assassin always keeping his life on the line for the job at hand, sometimes he "forgets" the money and just lets them keep it. Alin has no feelings toward death never relishing his kills or ever boasting about his kills. Alin is always a calm and relax with a monotone voice to match, his childhood life is not one of the most exciting of life his mother and father both middle class and really long work hours spending what little time they had with him. At school he got exceptionally high grades never falling below a 80 even on his final exams. While not clear to himself he always found an interest in shiny things often stealing it to later stare at it with fascination.
Other: he has a Brügger & Thomet APR custom fitted for long and silent firing power, on top of that he has Night vision googles that he uses when in the dark or at night. Also A military grade hunting knife for Tactical reasons.

[User] "What do you mean 'a beast Nicolas Sarkozy'?!" He yelled into the phone as he sat in his room in his small New York apartment, he launched the phone into the wall in anger, completely destroying it. He began to think about what kind of beast could've made it to France and kill the former President. 'I need to get over there.' He thought as he quickly packed his bag, and carried his axe to his car in the back alley. Then he quickly drove to a shipping yard and met with one of his close contacts. After a few days on the wretched boat, he was in France. "Now the fun begins."

[Assistant]
The Australian heat hung thickly in the corners of the small dilapidated hut where Del waited patiently for her latest contract. Smuggler. That's what the client had called him, among many other more foul names, as he had dropped a small pouch of treasures into the woman's waiting hand. The Mortis name, although tainted by her mother, carried an assurance to it that encouraged most of her smarter clients to pay up front. Besides, most mortals had no desire to be caught in her serpentine stare more than once; they knew she was more than capable of finishing their "jobs". From a distance, Del heard the footsteps she'd been anticipating. In rhythm they walked closer and closer to the splintered wooden door, the ocean waves pushing against the sandy shore in full force as the moon shone authoritatively above. Her eyelids were gently shut, her body no more than a piece of the white-washed walls covered in fish netting, the footsteps had reached the steps now. A small exhale released from Del's body as her hands silently slid down to concealed twin daggers between her legs. Creeeeeeeaaaaaaaaak, the hinges wailed in protest as a taut, pale arm reached around the frame. The man was abnormally thin with dark, hollow eyes from what could only be hunger and fatigue. His bearded face had a long, recently clotted laceration stretching from his widow's peak to his neckline. Del could smell the semi-fresh wound even before her wicked eyes shot open. In a movement too quick for a mortal to perceive, Del's muscular arm was wrapped tightly around the fragile man's collar bone. She squeezed his back against her feminine body, the force constricting his exhausted lungs. Her sensual lips brushed against his ear as she whispered sinisterly, "Who else is hunting you, mortal?" The man made a few feeble attempts to loosen Del's grip on his body, but her wrists held firm. "I...can...ple, ca... brea..." Del rolled her eyes in annoyance before slightly releasing the man's chest. He choked on the musty air, grimy sweat rolling down his forehead, and faintly answered Del's question. "Emissaries. French emissaries." The man's sweat mingled with the salt of his tears as he began to plead, "Please, I have a family. I can give you information about the attack if you'll protect me from those..."

Before the smuggler could finish, Del clapped a hand over his filthy mouth. She held a warning finger against her throat as she pushed the man deep into the corner she had once been hiding in. He remained fearfully silent as Del crept towards the open door, listening intently. In an instant, her fingers curled around the hilts of her daggers, lodging them securely into the broad neck that had just stumbled into the open room. The bulky Frenchman fell to the floor, his limbs writhing in silent agony as the poison worked its way throughout his body. Del straddled the dying man, crouching so low to his chest that her thighs brushed against his leather armor. She stroked her silken finger across his jawline before ripping her daggers from his flesh. A final grunt and spasm wrecked through him as Del casually stood and turned to face her original, cowering target. She grabbed the man be his weathered shirt collar and pulled him forcefully to face her. "I'm not one for small talk, but you've peaked my interest. What attack, and be quick about it... your little 'friend' has dampened my mood." With a trembling tongue the man enlightened Del about an attack in France which has supposedly killed someone of great importance. Despite his cowardice, he had spitefully added that the culprit was suspected to be a were-bastard. At this sentiment, Del cocked her head slightly and leaned in towards him. Her breath was hot against his nose and lips as she muttered, "A were-bastard saved your life..." His breathing became shallow as his widened eyes met Del's hypnotic gaze, "and subsequently ended it." She pressed her lips fiercely to his own, delivering her adder's venom with a flick of her tongue. She threw him to the floor and spat on both dead bodies before sauntering out the door.

Del swam gracefully through the dim ocean waters, creatures below slinking away at her fearsome presence. The waves lapped over her arms and legs and her mind raced with the words of her latest victim. It wasn't uncommon for her kind to attack mortals, there were many who did without any promise of monetary reward, but to kill the leader of a well-known country. She dove below the surface of the water as the wind impeded her visibility from above. Her scaled skin shone beautifully in the moonlight as she raced around the cape of Africa and through the cold Atlantic waters. She would reach France's shoreline by dawn, but her thoughts were plagued by what and who could possibly be waiting to greet her. She somersaulted playfully and bubbles trailed in her wake. On the other hand, she thought, a rendezvous in Paris would be exhilarating!

[User]
It was a cool, chill night along the Parisian waterways. Happy voices wafted over the water, coming from people happily eating in the many restaurants that lined the river. Happy people. Unsuspecting people. You see, the waterways were not calm at all. At least, on the surface they were, but under it, something was lurking which was certainly not calm, or happy. The waterways that snake across Paris made a perfect hunting ground for the Finned Beast. Lots of easy prey, people who sat with their legs dangling into the water. Some even swimming, oblivious, or maybe just in denial of the existence of the Beast. Who knows. Suddenly, a person sat down at a restaurant that prompted excited gasps and whispers from the people around him. Obviously someone importance. A pair of white eyes rose up from the river and looked over to the buzz of noise, waiting for something to be within striking distance.

The important man finished his dinner, and after taking a few pictures with eager people, and signing a few autographs, wandered over to the waters edge for a quick moment. This was what the Finned Beast was lying in wait for. A dark, sleek shape burst from the water, claws slashing and teeth bared for impact. The man screamed, as the Beast grabbed his ankle and pulled him into the water. The area was quickly filled with wide eyed people, who rushed over to see what the hell had happened. As flashlights were shined onto the surface, a sick red permeated the surface of the water, where a disembodied hand floated lifelessly on the surface. People gagged, threw up and cried. A dark fin was steadily heading away from the bloodied water, which people noticed and screamed at, but it was gone as nearly as it appeared.

A good way down the river, the Finned Beast was eating his latest catch. The prey had suffered no pain, his throat being cut by the Beast's teeth as soon as the prey went under the water. From there the Beast had carried his quarry down the river to a large hole in the concrete sides of the water, where it heartily devoured the prey. In less than an hour there would be only scraps left.

Of course, the Finned Beast had no concept, or idea, or the ramifications of its actions. No idea of the importance of its latest prey. No idea of the chaos he would cause. It was just a predator. And predators hunt.

[Assistant] "huh, well this is new" peering down the scope of his Brügger & Thomet APR as he watched the killing unfold and as soon as he took notice of the fin disappearing deeper into the water. Alin quickly followed in suit yanking a cellphone out his pocket dialing the contact number of his client he speaks a few clear words on the phone. "Target is dead, deposit the money in the agreed location." Knowing that the money would be ready for him to pick up once he is done in Paris, After the phone call he threw the phone into the waterway still intent on following the more out of curiosity then anything else.


[System]
Vampire (FAQ about vampires)

Apparent Age: mid-30s maybe
Actual Age: unknown as of yet, but already stated to be >200 years.

Physical Description:
6'1"
Fit, though not overly muscular.
Dark brunette hair with hints of gray.
Full beard, a bit rough around the curves of his jawbones.
Hazel eyes.

Personality Description:
Confident, bold.
Polite in his interactions with good people.
Soft spoken but ready to act violently with bad people.
Has a strong lust for women. Whores will do the job, but his yearnings are often for respectable women.
He's a vampire and needs to feed, but he doesn't kill for the sake of killing.

Current Residence: The Golden Eagle Motel, Willow Springs, Arizona Territory.

Possessions:
No horse currently, though he will surely buy one soon.
Colt Peacemaker: .45 caliber single action pistol.
He has money and can always get more through theft or manipulation, but he isn't rich.

Associates:
Mister Bowers, Willow Springs mortician and servant to "The Family" (the group or coterie of vampires from which Vance originates).

[User]
The hotel's desk clerk handed Vance off to the restaurant's hostess, who politely gestured him to follow her to a table. But Vance remained where he was at the restaurant's entrance, his gaze set on the young beauty sitting with others who, after just a moment of study, Vance knew were close family.

She was flanked by two men who appeared a bit older than she, and while one of them could have been her husband, a moment of studying them told Vance they were more likely to be brothers, cousins, or the in-law versions of such. That meant she wasn't married. Oh sure, her husband could have simply been absent this evening. But Vance doubted it. The woman was surrounded by family, and Vance simply didn't see a spouse missing out on this special event.

Besides, Willow Springs was no longer the kind of place where a responsible husband allowed such a beautiful bride to be out after dark without his protection, even if she had other family members surrounding her. Once upon a time, the south central Arizona town might have been that kind of place, a community where an unaccompanied woman might have been safe walking the streets separating the homes of neighbors she'd known for years. But no longer.

Willow Springs had been a quiet little town with a population in 1875 of just 66 men, women, and children. The economy had been built around cattle ranching in its early days. Herds were driven hundreds of miles north to the nearest depots of the Atlantic and Pacific Railroad, from which the cattle were hauled east and west to big city markets. There was a copper mine just two miles north of town as well, but without a railroad passing very nearby, the costs of transporting the ore by mule train were simply prohibitive.

But all this would change with the arrival of the Southern Pacific Railroad, which would pass by Willow Springs just a quarter mile to the north. Those in the know -- people with connections inside the SPR -- had been quietly buying up all of the land flanking the future track bed, and even before construction was begun the land was being sold for 10, 20, even 50 times its previous price. The Richardson Copper mine was bought by an east coast consortium as well, with a railroad spur branching off directly to it to carry its product to smelters in Texas and Louisiana.

By the beginning of 1880, the population of 66 had swollen to over 1,000. Hotels, saloons, brothels, opium dens, and a multitude of dry good, clothing, and supply stores sprung up. Tent cities -- one near the edge of town and one near the copper mine -- expanded to provide housing for an influx of mostly men looking for work.

And while a booming economy was seen as good for Willow Springs, good money always brought with it a bad element. Gamblers, gun slingers, thieves, con men, and more joined the population, and while Law Enforcement expanded to include a Territory Marshall, a City Sheriff, and at times as many as two dozen Deputies, the guns in the hands of the good were never enough to deal with the guns in the hands of the bad.

And what was Vance? The good or the bad? Well, he was neither, actually. Sure, he conspicuously carried at his waist a Colt .45 Peacemaker, the weapon that would one day be called "the gun that won the west"; and sure, he knew how to use it as good or better than most that carried it or similar weapons; and sure, once again, he'd used it a number of times, taking several lives, often with the result of having to leave his current location or face criminal charges, even hanging.

But Vance didn't like to think of himself as a gunslinger. He was just a man who happened to carry a quick draw weapon. Nothing more to it.

All Vance wanted from this world was a comfortable bed in which to sleep or occasionally fuck, a soft neck from which to draw the pint or so of blood he needed every couple of days to prolong his semi-immortal state, a bottle of better than average whiskey or brandy to quiet his mind come sunrise...

And a beautiful, intelligent woman with whom he could spend a few hours talking history or culture or current events...

Like the beauty who looked his way for just a moment before pulling her eyes away as proper etiquette demanded. Even after she was no longer watching him, Vance continued to watch her a moment. The hostess, realizing that her guest wasn't following, returned to stand before Vance, asking, "I'm sorry, sir, was there--"

"That one," Vance interrupted, pointing to a table in the opposite direction from where the woman had been taking him. He headed for the small table, telling her, "I like that one."

He sat and shed his hat, then looked out before him. And as he'd hoped, the young beauty was directly out before him. He didn't know if she would look his way, but if she did she would find that his attention was on her most of the remaining time that she and hers were dining. He ordered a steak -- telling the hostess "So rare that when I stick a fork in it, it kicks" -- then studied the family, and in particular the woman who was causing excitement in a specific location below the level of his gun belt.

At one point, Vance noticed that the bottle from which the family was pouring was empty. He waved the hostess over, set a gold coin on the real cloth table covering, and asked that she get the family another bottle. When the hostess delivered the replacement, Vance's attention was on the woman, though he would also be sure to acknowledge and nod or smile to any other family member who glanced his way with appreciation.

[Assistant]
The family went back to their meal. The others had turned their conversation to ranch and the baby. Lillian paused to take a sip of sherry and to look out the window again. Her gaze never made it to the window. The man, the new arrival was sitting in her line of vision. He had removed his hat now and was studying her.

Unconsciously her head tilted as if observing him as well. Soft, brown eyes moved over his features a moment before she blinked and looked away demurely.

She ate a little more of her meal as the others talked. At one point she looked up, watching the stranger through her lashes. To all who looked it seemed that Lillian was engrossed in looking at her meal but her attention was elsewhere.

This man was interesting. She watched him put a coin on the table.

Curious.

"Don't you think so Lily?" Jenny's voice startled her.

"I am sorry? I was lost in thought for a moment." Lillian pulled her eyes to the woman.

"I said I think we should have a little party before the baby is born. A last gathering before we all tiptoe about trying not to wake a sleeping infant. Don't you think so too? Wouldn't it be fun?" Jenny was excited and wanted the woman on her side.

"Oh! I just had a wonderful idea! It would be the perfect time for you to change from your mourning clothes. Think of it a party and no more black. Perhaps you might even meet someone." Jenny was practically bouncing in her seat.

Lillian paled and opened her mouth to respond but the waitress interrupted her.

"Here you are sir." She put a new bottle of sherry by Benjamin.

"I didn't order this." Her uncle frowned.

"No sir, a gift. From the gentleman at the table over there." The waitress gestured to where the stranger sat.

Lillian looked up to see his eyes on her once more though he nodded in the table's direction. That had been what the coin was for. Now she wondered why and who he was. Curiosity pulled at her. She adjusted the lace that played at her throat. The action allowing her to keep her eyes up and watch the man without staring.

Benjamin gave a nod back. "Well, that was nice of him. Just leave it then."

Johnathan, silverware in hand, looked over at the stranger. "Curious that. Why would he send that over?"

Benjamin took a bite of steak. "Perhaps he knows who we are. Maybe he is just a well mannered gentleman."

Mabel dotted at her mouth. "Perhaps we should invite him to join us."

"He doesn't have his food yet and we are half done. We wouldn't want to put the man on the spot while he eats." Maxwell glanced back towards the man.

"I think we should invite him over." The flush had returned to Jenny's cheeks. "It is the only polite thing to do. We can take our time so he isn't eating alone." As if to emphasize her point she put her silverware down.

Benjamin was engrossed in his steak once more. "I will go and thank him, introduce myself. That is-"

"Invite him over." The words came out without thinking. Lillian looked at her uncle. Benjamin was staring at her as if she had grown a second head.

"It would be more polite to invite him over and introduce him to the whole family uncle. He may have business here that might be good for you and the ranch." Lillian felt her throat go dry. Her eyes shifted back to the stranger.

"Very well. It seems I am outnumbered by the women in this household. Anna, do you care to weigh in as well for good measure." Benjamin stood up and placed his napkin on the table.

Anna leaned back in her chair a little, hand resting on her round stomach. "Never hurts to meet the new folks who come to town."

Benjamin grunted and walked over to the man's table.

"Evening sir. Thank you for the sherry. My family and I would like to know if you would care to join us at our table. It would only be polite since you so graciously purchased the bottle for us. I am Benjamin Stewart."

He put his hand out to shake the man's.

[User]
Having drained the young man from the train less than 24 hours earlier, Vance's senses were at their peak, and despite the distance between his table and that of the family that held his interest -- or the woman who held his interest -- he was able to hear every word they spoke, as if he was sitting in their laps.

Mourning clothes, Vance thought, eying the dark haired woman again. He didn't often feel like an idiot: he was careful in the things he did, the words he said, and the thoughts he bounced about inside his skull. But at this moment, he certainly felt stupid for not having put that together the lack of a husband-type companion and the black fashion.

He diverted his eyes for a long moment, speaking to the hostess, then to the waitress as each passed, checking on him.

As the man spoke, Vance wished that had been the reason for the offering. In reality, he'd simply been looking for something that might bring him closer to the widow for whom he's been contemplating inappropriate thoughts. He listened without looking to the ongoing conversation about whether or not he should be asked to join the table.

The new voice joining the conversation caused Vance to once again set his gaze upon the distant beauty. His lips spread in just a bit of a pleased smirk at the surprise the others were showing their widowed relative. They were surprised, Vance was surprised, and -- honestly -- she wore an expression that made Vance think that maybe she might also be surprised that she said it.

A moment later, the eldest of the men was standing at Vance's table, offering his hand. Vance didn't hesitate to reach out and take it, responding, "It would be my pleasure, so long as you're certain I would not be intruding."

The man who'd introduced himself as Benjamin Stewart reassured the stranger that he was welcome, causing the vampire to stand and say, "Vance. Vance Hamilton."

Vance retrieved his own glass of liquor and followed his host across the restaurant. Introductions were made, and Vance was sure to nod and smile and greet each family member as was appropriate. When Benjamin got to his widowed niece, Vance's smile widened a bit more as he said, "A pleasure."

It didn't go unnoticed to Vance that eyes fell upon the Colt strapped across his waist. He gestured to the hostess, and as she crossed to him, Vance unbuckled the gun belt, wrapped it around the weapon held within, and asked the woman, "Would it possible to have this delivered to the hotel's front desk?"

"Of course, sir," the woman said. She took the handgun without hesitation, giving Vance the distinct impression that if necessary, the woman in her 40s could probably use it or a similar weapon with great skill and knowledge. He felt a bit naked without the .45, but it wasn't as if he was in a rowdy saloon or out on the hard streets of the boom town. Sitting down, he thanked one and all for the invitation, then asked his host, "So, are you long time residents of Willow Springs? I've been told it has had an explosion in population since the railroad and mine."

He listened to Benjamin's answer, adding comments and follow up questions when they were appropriate. And he told the family that he himself had only just arrived in town the day before and -- though in no hurry -- was looking for work. And while his gaze shifted about the table as this person or that asked questions or made comments, Vance's gaze always seemed to return to the beautiful widow sitting directly across the table from him. He tried not to look to conspicuous in his attentions. But it was likely that those attentions weren't going to go unnoticed.

"Do you play cards?" asked one of the younger men, Johnathan Vance recalled his name being. He had a very hopeful tone as he clarified unnecessarily, "Poker."

The vampire did, and he enjoyed it, too, maybe because he was both good at reading the other players and -- when possible -- good at using his charismatic ability to cause them to say or do things at the table that would give them and the strength of their hands away, particularly when they were intoxicated or simply dumb as a post. And while Vance would have loved for the man to escort him to a friendly game somewhere in town, he got a sense from the man's wife -- and from some of his other family members -- that this was a sore subject with them.

"I'm sorry, but no ... I never learned to play the game," Vance lied, glancing to Anna, who seemed to be happy with the response. Vance looked to Lillian again with a slight smile, then back to Benjamin as he changed the subject with, "So, ranching. I hear the railroad has made it a more lucrative industry now."

Vance pretended to have an interest in what Benjamin had to say. But truly, his only interest was in figuring out a way to get to know the beauty across from him better.


[System]
Alias: Fringe, formerly The Fringed Spider

Appearance:

Age: 26

Gender: Female

Hometown: Shanghai, China

Biography: From her early days back home in China, Jin always knew she would rise above the ranks and take the world by storm with her scientific ideas and inquiries. A lone daughter, Jin understood stress and how the people around her viewed her, but she wasn't going to let anything stop her form reaching the top.

Jin majored in mechanical engineering, and soon found a job with the Shanghai branch of Aprico, testing and developing equipment that would help further humanity.

However, unlike the rest of the world, her story started before The Boom. Among technological advancements, Aprico is also heavily invested in genetic work as well. The smallest animals had the most potential while also having the lowest risk in the event anything happened. Fringe was unlucky enough to have been bitten by one of Aprico's genetically modified test subjects, A Portia Fimbriata - The Fringed Spider. Since her bite, Jin was sharper than ever. Her mind was more flexible than she ever thought possible, and her vision was enhanced so much she needed such a thick prescription in order to not get a headache from information overload.

These powers could not go to waste, she told herself. Every advantage she was given, she would use to the fullest extent. She couldn't, wouldn't let herself sit idly by while people were getting hurt out in the streets, so she took to vigilantism in the hours she was not at work. She had no name, no face. Simply a do-gooder who helped protect the people of Shanghai.

And then it happened. Aprico asked her to move to their founding establishment in Bell Reach California. How could she say no? This was the step up in life she was waiting for. To finally be in the biggest league of them all and to change the future in ways that her masked counterpart could not. She could show her face, she could get recognition for her efforts.

Unfortunately, you don't get a lot of praise when you're a shut-in.

Moving to America was a massive change for Jin. Half way around the world and there was nothing there that her advanced mind could predict. She spent all of her time at the lab or at home, but this pattern of work and seclusion caught the eye of a family living in the same building as her.

Cliff Riley, an electrician and maintenance adviser, lived just down the hall from Jin. He had seen her go to and from work nearly every day without so much as a word to her new neighbors, but respected her enough to keep his distance. As days turned into weeks, and Jin seemed more stressed with every passing day, Cliff, his wife May, and their surrogate son Peter decided to be the welcome wagon.

The three helped her out of her shell and become more acclimated to her new surroundings. Young Peter was just entering high school and needed a tutor. What time she once spent at her own home, was now spent with the Rileys. As much as she loved the Riley family, she could not tell her about her burden, her past. The Riley family was remarkable in the fact that none of them seemed to have developed powers, but Jin was ahead of the curve. In a city of heroes, she wanted to lay low.

About a year in, tragedy struck. Cliff Riley was murdered in a mugging, leaving behind his wife and nephew. It hit Jin hard, to lose such a kind and welcoming man, but she could only imagine how hard it was for May and Peter. Soon, all of her time was once again consumed by work, but in a different sense.

Jin began developing technology using Aprico equipment. Special technology, that would allow her to ascend beyond her already sturdy power set. Inspired by the spider that started this path, she embodied it, and swore that she would protect the People of Bell Reach in any way that she could. Fringe was born. They Rileys were and would always be a priority, but now there was even less free time for her. Work, patrolling, and helping May and Peter took up all of her time.

And she couldn't be happier.

Personality: Almost quippy to a fault, Jin considers herself a master of conversation. She will always push to do more, to push her limits farther and farther every day. Despite all of her quips, her tone doesn't have a lot of snark. In fact, she speaks quite genuinely. Fringe has been known to speak highly of her villains and how they've progressed since the last time she fought them. However, she can be quite stubborn when things get to her. Her focus tunnels, and her interest becomes obsession until she can put the problem in front of her to rest.

Skillset: Mechanical engineering whiz - Jin displays a wide base of knowledge about the sciences in general, but mechanical engineering is her core subject. Science is always a helpful tool to have when you're moving at breakneck speeds around the city.
Bilingual - Learning English was hard, but she did it. She speaks the language with relative ease, and can translate back and fourth between Chinese and English at will.

Athleticism and martial arts training - She might be a woman of science, but Jin was never one to refuse a challange of any sort. Even before her powers, Jin was quite athletic, and her spider bite helped her keep in shape despite a long period of rest when transitioning from China to America. Those skills have only increased since getting her powers, and combined with her intense focus, little can get past her.

Powers: Adhesion - Like a spider, Jin has the ability to cling to walls and nearly all surfaces. Her ability to cling is like a muscle, so she isn't just stuck on everything she touches.

Adaptive mind - A unique feature of the Fringed Spider is how quick and adaptive it is to new situations. Her brain was once a TI-82 calculator, and now runs more like a supercomputer, however, this does not mean she isn't immune to information overload.

Peerless vision - another feature of her spider is ti's incredible vision, which paired with it's complex and adaptive mind allows for Jin to see impossibly far away and take in almost microscopic details with only her eyes. However, in her normal day, she is required to wear thick glasses to dampen her vision to a level that won't give her a headache.

Spider Sense - A sort of enhanced instinct that reveals to Jin any signs of immediate danger. There are ways to circumvent this, and the sense can be ignored, but it is tied strongly to reflexes, forcing jin to often move entirely on instinct.

Tools and Equipment: Fringe Suit - Modeled after a Qipao and martial arts garb, the lose appearance of her costume hide's thick padding and gadgets of her own design. The helmet is also heavily padded on the inside, and the lenses are made out of a variable material not unlike an LCD screen which filters heavier and lighter for different degrees of vision.

Web shooters - what kind of spider can't shoot webs? Even though the Fringed Spider isn't know for impressive web making, Using webs to swing around Bell Reach has given her an advantage that wouldn't have been accessible without somehow getting more powers.
Additional Information:

Name: Trent Folley
Alias: Tritus
Appearance:
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Hometown: Bell Reach, California
Biography: Young Trent Folley, former surf-dog of Hewlis Highschool right in the heart og Bell Reach. Born to a family of realty agents making just the biggest bank on a booming supercity. Despite living rather comfortably, Trent was never home. Scraping by in school, but excelling in sports, Trent knew that his home would always be his home. School wasn't his place, neither was an office. He needed to be out, living life.

The waves were always his home. Out at the beach, riding waves from dawn till dusk, Trent found work helping people move their beach equipment for a few bucks before he could work legally, and started as a lifeguard the day he turned sixteen. The day his awakening happened was a day he would never forget. At the ripe age of sixteen and working at the lifeguard stand, there was an emergency for someone who had been caught by the tide and was swept out far. As soon as the bell sounded, Trent grabbed his board and headed out. He never paddled so hard in his life, but that was because it wasn't the paddling them kept him moving. Trent was gifted with the ability to manipulate water, but it did come with a few catches. Heroes started popping up, but Trent knew his place. The beach was his home, and he would protect everyone there.

Now, nineteen, Trent works multiple jobs at Bell Reach Beach. Lifeguarding, managing surf shacks, even teaching surf and swim classes to anyone who was interested. This was his life, and he wouldn't have it any other ways.
Personality: Pretty stereotypical and average as far as californian surfers go. Peace loving and wanting nothing more than to solve everyone's problems with a good wave and a lovely sunset, though he understands the dangers of his surroundings. He's surprisingly keen and sensible despite his most obvious features, and shows a great deal of love for both the people and animals that make his beach their playground. The Nickname Tritus came from mashing Triton, the herald of the sea, and Titus, the famed emperor. Despite starting low, any regulars to the beach know that Trent is in charge, but a kind and just watcher of the waves.
Skillset: EMT Medical training - Trent went above and beyond when it came to prepping to be a lifeguard. Didn't stop at just the weekend red-cross classes, he took the ladder all the way to the top to make sure he could help anyone and everyone that came his way.
Knowledge of marine and coastal animals - another perk of living where the land meets the sea, Trent knows how to handle and take care of any animals that get too close to the shore safely and humanely
Powers: Water Manipulation - Trent can manipulate water by extending his consciousness through it, though this requires a physical connection to the water in order to work. When in the ocean, Trent is king, moving and making waves as he wants, but out on land, his use of his powers becomes much more limited.
Aquatic Physiology - his connection to water doesn't simply stop at being able to move it around as he wishes. Trent was also gifted with a number of abilities that allow him to thrive in the water.
Tools and Equipment: Smartphone - of course, no way to know the world than without the use of a phone.
Surf board - carved by himself and a friend, Trent never steps into the water without his board
Additional Information:

[User] She had just finished her food when she heard the sirens and saw the smoke. Frick she fixed her mask and went camouflaged. She took a running jump off the building and leaped to the next one below it shooting out her black ropes (I don't want to call them webs but I don't know what else to call them) as a staff to stop her fall. She kept from roof to roof till she made it too the fire. She crouched on the roof of the building next to it, most seemed to be in the middle of being dealt with and she wasn't sure if she was needed. Then she saw somebody on the second floor looking out the window, a teenager. She jumped to the wall of the building and stopped being in camouflage. She shot a thread down to the ground and helped the teen out the went into the building to scout it out and find more civilians, she found herself with other heroes but didn't really acknowledge them, she was busy.

[Assistant]
David calmly watched as several other hero's, or rather vigilantes if one wanted to get technical, rushed towards the flaming inferno, intent on rescuing those who were still trapped within. Reaching into his pocket and pulling out the bandana he'd taken from his apartment, David pulled it against his mouth and nose before tying the two excess strips of cloth into a tight knot that wrapped snuggly around the back of his skull. Pulling his grey hood over his head to help further conceal his identity, David closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Letting it out slowly, he opened his eye's and watched as the movement of the world around him slowed to a crawl.

Stepping past the police cordon, David ran towards the burning building at full speed with his hand raised in front of his face in a vain attempt to block some of the intense heat radiating from the firestorm. To the outside observer, it appeared as though a grey blur had just shot through the area and into the collapsing store, but to David the world around him moved at a snail's pace, events seeming to drag on for ages as he ran through the flames, smoke, and ash billowing from the buildings entrance. Once in inside, he began to make his way towards the very back of the store, all while doing his best to avoid falling debris raining down from the crumbling ceiling above his head.

[User]
Maybe to the naked eye it would have been seen as nothing more than a sudden blur, a trick of the light, but Fringe knew what she had seen when she was swinging in. That was a person, moving at impossibly fast speeds. She almost missed it herself. A blink and it was gone, but she knew what she saw. They were moving far too fast to not generate friction and appear like a ball of blinding light, but then again, powers seemed to be the easiest bowl to throw everything into nowadays. She couldn't concern herself with who or whatever that was.

She swung high, let go, and fell to the ground with a low crouch to absorb as much of the impact as she could. "Officer, what's going on?" She questioned a nearby police officer with a tilt of her head.

"Well, it looks like a fire." He chided. He couldn't see Fringe's face, but he could feel the overwhelming deadpan radiating off of her. "Could be arson, we can't tell at this point."

"I'll look around the area, see if I can't spot any runners."