[System]
Gender: Useless

Progenitors: Yog-Sothoth and Aphrodite

Sphere of Control: Space, expedition, dreams, insight

Personality: Simply put, Aforgomon is beyond human. Nevertheless, remotely human qualities can be observed from it. Aforgomon is curious, always eager for new and interesting knowledge, and to experience new things. It allocates no care whatsoever to the feelings or judgments of mortals or gods, except to take delight in shock, disgust, and horror. However, Aforgomon is subtle and passive, not eager to fight, and less eager to obey others. Normal godly concepts like worship, pride, and sovereignty do not interest it. It is unpredictable, capable of inventing new rules or disregarding old ones on a whim; perhaps its inner workings are merely beyond even divine comprehension. However, it does seem to be driven to observe the dreams of different people and gods, and to devour them.

Sacred Animal: Slug

Powers: Aforgomon displays a unique form of dimensional incongruity. It exists on multiple dimensions simultaneously, never culminating its full presence in a single one. When only a small amount of its presence is devoted to a dimension, only parts of its body appear, and in the form of warped, brilliant light. More solidified presence appears from tears of light hanging in the air that act as crude portals. Aforgomon can open portals of light anywhere in its vicinity, that transport whatever enters them from any angle smoothly into a dimension of its choice. As long as a single light tear exists in an area, Aforgomon can sense everything within it. Aforgomon wanders between the infinite dimensions, exploring and gaining knowledge that reflects upon dimensions like this one. It can bring things from other dimensions as well, including monsters and even alternate versions of existing creatures. In short, it can teleport, fade in and out, and summon creatures to fight for it. To normal people, Aforgomon is totally invisible, but through madness one can capture a glimpse of its true visage.

However, Aforgomon's choice of taking parts of others into dimensions can also apply to the spirit. It can sever a being's mind from its body with a light tear and place it in another place or dimension as a dream. Though Aforgomon whispers in an unknown, alien language of the cosmos, these whispers are remarkably persuasive. Rather than speaking, if it even could, Aforgomon seeds grains of knowledge into the minds of others, even gods, so that they intuit what it wants to communicate. One final cast of abilities is Aforgomon's affinity for dreams. It eats dreams, particularly nightmares, to gain more insight and make itself more powerful. Even the dreams of other gods can be consumed, taking the form of a prismatic paste, and Aforgomon can regurgitate this insight to craft elements of the eaten dreams from light, effectively turning imagination into reality.

History: The merging of worldly pantheons, each of them sporting unique stories of lust of their own, spawned a smorgasbord of new desires among the ranks of the divine. Most busy, naturally, were the cultures' various gods of love: Xochiquetzal, Astarte, Parvati, Hathor, Ishtar, Freya, and of course, Aphrodite. However, the concentration of godly power formed by the merging did not confine itself to the lands and seas of earth; it radiated past the clouds as a call beyond, beckoning certain other gods to unity. Jealous, perhaps, of the new, single pantheon whose gods now imagined themselves the greatest beings in existence, the other gods came.

Unfaithful to her homely husband Hephaestus as always, Aphrodite chose on the night of the summoner solstice to escape with her lover to a quiet, green hillside on earth. Afterward, however, when she looked skyward, she could imagine against the vault of the night sky a conglomeration of glowing spheres, more rich and intoxicating than stars. At this vision she stared with glittering eyes, long after her partner had grown confused and disinterested before leaving. Hours later, she blinked awake, as if from a glorious dream, and the goddess returned to her duties.

The other gods of the pantheon began to notice a change in her. Though always a promiscuous deity, Aphrodite now slept with more and more gods indiscriminately, apparently giving no further thought to the facade of fidelity she'd loosely upheld. All of her partners, however, felt oddly weakened after being with her. Though none could quite describe the feeling, it was as if some of their very godly essence had been stripped away. Aphrodite, meanwhile, only seemed to grow more beautiful and lustful, though the swell of her belly indicated her pregnancy. Even after her potential partners started choosing to abstain, Aphrodite continued to grow. Over the months, the goddess of love's body quickly but inexplicably bloated to massive proportions, until the she could no longer move from her bedchamber's plush cushions and satin sheets—a wobbling, repulsive blob of flesh that still cried out passionately in the night, though no deity visited her now. If her servants ran to her side in response to the noise, they found nothing but a perspiring mass, swollen bigger still, though less sane. None of this changed as the children of the gods, the Merged, took over. They left the pathetic, blobby, gibberish-howling mass to writhe in her chamber and be forgotten.

Finally, Hephaestus could stand it no longer. He entered the bedchamber of the shapeless heap of blubber that had been his goddess wife with the intent to put her out of her delusional misery. When he ruptured her flesh with an iron spike, the cracks that spread across her flesh issued forth light, not blood. The smith god recoiled and watched in horror as Aphrodite's body tore apart and melted into featureless, transparent jelly, leaving behind a curled-up, vile being. Within the living egg that the goddess had become had incubated the flayed child of Yog-Sothoth, and as Hephaestus looked on, skinless Aforgomon rose to its feet, stood upon the soaked cushions, and looked skyward with a grinning face sans eyes. Father, he knew it whispered as it vanished. I am here.

Since then, Aforgomon weaves in and out of the world of Merged gods, a ghastly phantom from beyond the stars but perhaps more divine than any of them, for what is a god but a being of absolute power, incomprehensible and vast as the cosmos itself?

Other: As evidenced by its history, Aforgomon killed its 'mother' Aphrodite, who served as the living egg in which the fragment of outer space implanted in her by Yog-Sothoth became a living being, drinking in the dreams of the gods and growing to maturity in her swollen body. Hephaestus, who first witnessed Aforgomon, fled Olympus to live the life of an ordinary human on earth, far removed from the gods. Look upon its manifested form

[User]
@Cuccoruler

Yato was rolling around the temple attacking any monkeys that got close to Reese and Hun Batz. He was sure they could take on Wu but the fight could be turned against them if some monkeys joined. As Yato was rolling around he dragged his katana on the floor causing a foot wide pool of water. Tentacles reached out of the water and started to grab monkeys and tossed them away or just hold them in the air. Mentally patting himself on the back a glanced at the main battle and saw Reese block an attack from Hun. Why is he helping Wu Kong? Yato started to head towards Hun to give him some back up just in case.

[Assistant]
It seems time has really changed in their short amount of absences. Belle stayed close to Scott. He could hold his own but they were in Germany a territory he visited rarely and know little to no information about what to be aware of. "We weren't gone that long were we?" Belle questioned as they past a young child. As they reached what Belle believed to be one of Scott's studies he peeked over his shoulder catching a brief glimpse of the choas spawing around Earth. Belle also noticed the Aliens an odd aura that was released that was obviously not of human or godly origin.

"I believe it's best for me to stay here or at least by your side." Belle stated pacing back in forth wondering what else is tipping the scales into madness. They were only gone for a little bit and Earth was about to enter a global war against an alien race. The thought of the situation didn't settle right with him. And no that he thought about it why was there a kid here in the first place. Then again Germany worked differently than Egypt. Belle leaned against a wall and took a deep breath.

[User]
As the battle of the apes rage by the temple's Peruvian shores, another challenger slowly approaches by sea, who happens to be a woman. She too was aware of the presence what was going on at hand. Unlike them however, she can sense who the unknown ape that is helping Sun Wu Kong. And she was not too pleased about it. The ape was a resurrected god, known once as King of the Apes, the Eighth Wonderer of the World, the Great Ape, or simply as King Kong. She had faced him before, just over 50 years ago on the shores of Japan. It was a climatic battle, which ended in a strict tie. Kong escaped, while she just went back to slumbering in the ocean. It would only be 5 years later when she would find the god and ultimately kill him...

Or so she thought...

Balance had now shifted towards Gods' evil favor. And as Queen of the Monsters, the Preserver of Balance, Gaia's Tainted Creation, she will bring balance to Earth and wipe out the threat at hand. Once at shore, she rises slowly from the ocean water, her black hair wet but silky, her plates gleaming in the sunlight, and a tail whipping the water behind her. As she casually walks onto land, standing proud and tall and slightly taller then Kong, she issues a mighty roar, which can be heard for miles around, grabbing the attention of everyone by the temple. King Kong's resurrection is nothing more but a mistake, for he has just met his long time nemesis.

GOJIRA.

Now she will finish... what she started fifty-three years ago...

Theme: The Queen Arrives!/Battle Theme

[Assistant]
When Thalios exited the rift of light, which encompassed mere centimeters through an empty dimension in which space was collapsed, he would find himself in the void of space. Alongside it floated the grotesque dream-phantom, ghostlike in posture but not consistency, for what so often seemed like blinding radiance now took on the appearance of mottled flesh. In front of Thalios and Aforgomon loomed the gargantuan alien craft like an island in the sky, a veritable floating city. Countless lights shone from its surface, and invisible waves radiated from its towers that instructed the aliens on earth in gruesome, zealous genocide.

The brightest beacon burned like a little star between the Great One's palms. Its own insight prickled Thalios' mind. Men look to the heavens expecting to find ones who keep their words, for seldom do they live on earth. Honoring wishes, young one, separates gods from over-mighty charlatans. Here, look: this ecstatic starlight. Nightmares are most potent when they infest and worsen existing fears. Take this brilliant tear, and with terror rend it. Fear is the knife that will sever the narrow spaces between realities.

After Thalios obliged, turning the tear a violently frothing purple, Aforgomon spread its arms. The rift spread in response, growing wider and wider still, a slice wound between dimensions growing more dire by the second. Wreathed in a bizarre dark light, the tear outgrew the space center of the Amgetoll Forces, and only then did the perilous bonds give way and the gash flop open. Like an enormous eye the tear opened, an absolutely colossal gate into alternate space that was green and vile. Into view through this abominable aperture, an impossible gargantuan thing slowly slid. Its rippling surface seemed a deep, reflective, and gelatinous purple-brown, stretching across hundreds and hundreds of feet of its tubelike body. With a hungry precision, the immense alien worm reached into the dimension of the Merged with its menagerie of heads, clamping thousands of teeth onto the alien spaceship, before it pulled. With surprising speed, that horror beyond horrors dragged the helpless craft toward its realm. Only a few moments remained before the ship would be lost to the otherworldly, abyssal miasma to be slowly rent apart and consumed by maws innumerable.


[System]
CS:
Race: Earth Nymph

Position: Hunter and Member of the Fall Court

Age: 1,500 years old; Appears to be 32

Personality (Fae type has effect): Old in age, this beauty of a nymph still prefers to be called a "Lady". Years of war with the Fae has hardened her heart, making her seem very cold and uncaring at first. Getting to know her may seem to be a challenge, but bear with it and she'll die for you and do all that she can to help and protect you. Loyal beyond a fault. Past the cold there is warmth. Being analytical by nature Tarani is sometimes mistaken for being "slow", however, she is simply assessing the situation and every possible scenarios.

Once times of merry come, she will be merry!

Being a Hunter, plus a member of the Fall Court has made Tarani a cunning, forked-tongue woman--persuading many to bend to her will. If not that, then there is always the power her age and dedication has brought her.

Appearance: Fae Form -- At six foot tall, Tarani's Fae form looks ethereal, and more like a spirit than a ghost. Appearing somewhat translucent. Instead of eyes she has medium-sized sockets with the sides slightly upwards (Elf-Eyes). Instead of skin he body is all shades of earth tones--like a camouflage when in wooded areas.

 Glimmer (Glamour) -- A form she likes to take on more often than her Fae form. At Five feet and eight inches, Tarani dawns an Old World Victorian style of clothing when appearing at events, matters of business, or Court Affairs. Flowing midnight-blue hair right past the small of her back, with crystal-blue eyes. Round face, with slanted sockets and pointed ears. Fair skin, almost pale; very soft and silky. Hour-Glass shaped frame and medium build. Medium breasts. Two tribal tattoos--one on each arm--adorn her body when chooses to where sleeveless clothes.

Background: Growing up for Tarani was only the beginning of her ambitions for power and wealth--which comes in many forms. Being the middle out of three children was the main cause for her ambitious ways. Not to mention that Mother showered her elder sister with affection and love, while the youngest son gained all the favor and loyalty a Father could give. What left was there for Tarani? Especially since in her family it wasn't necessarily the oldest who inherited the fortunes and assets of the Dásos, but the eldest Daughter. That Tarani no other option but do what she had to do to gain what she deserved, and if that wasn't going to be love, then it was going to be respect, knowledge and power.

Maturity for Tarani was achieved at only a few centuries, her natural talent alone already quite elusive and impressive. Instead of relying on her natural talent she decided that studying lore and ancient texts written by Fae long "gone" from this realm to unlock all of her potential was a much more efficient was to spend her time. Doing just that did in fact give her the satisfaction of power she so desired...but more power can always be gained, and current power can always be honed and perfected.

With this power and new-found sense of right, Tarani tackled the next thing on her bucket list: Respect. Acquiring respect was the difficult, and probably most hardest part for this still young Fae. She had but two options: Rise against her family and take a chance of acquring the Rights, or forsake her family. Tarani went with the latter. one of many scars already bearing down on her heart. She never let her scars deter her from her goals, or slow her mind--always focused and determined.

Deeper south in the forest Tarani and her family resided in was a medium sized town ran by a band of nasty Brownies and some quite tricky Pixies. Tarani's gaze was set on this town and with in a few short hours, the Brownies and Pixies had either dispersed or been killed in the battle. Here she made her home in the southern forests of the realm.

When Tarani had reached the age of 1,500 she had acquired everything she had ever wanted. She gained knowledge and power by many centuries of studying and training. She not only gained respect, but more power by acquiring a spot in the Fall Court and doing anything she could to appease Lord Tegvan O'Aenges-Mor.

[User] Between his own physical condition and the shock this beast brought to him, Max was still a little show on the uptake, and he only really processed the last bit of what the creature asked him. His name. "Uh, Max." He told it, "Max Napras. What's yours?" He asked as he stomach growled.

[Assistant] Galahad heard a loud metallic noise, distant but close enough that his fae hearing could pick up on it. His head whipped in the direction of the noise. He saw nothing, but he knew someone was there. He gestured for his men to follow him as he moved across the forest silently, a feat that had taken him years to master. As he passed by trees he checked for adversaries, but he found no one, until he came to a particularly large tree. He spun around to the other side gracefully and found a human girl, dressed in Victorian era clothing. Her hair was bright red, and she had bags in her hand. His soldiers raised their swords at the sight of her, but he motioned for them to hold their swings. The girl was afraid of them. "Who are you girl?" he asked in a harsh tone, his face colder than the snow that fell in Winter Court.

[User] Aisling studied the tall, and cold Fae before her. He could not touch her, not here in the Land of Fall. It would be a foolish move, one the Fall King would strike for the petty insult dealt towards him unknowingly by these fairies. Narrowing her grey eyes at the threatening Fair Folk, she tried to banish her fear with cold indifference. "You are on Fall Land, no power do you hold here." Adjusting the bags, she stepped from the tree after steeling her nerves. Musing over the idea of hurling one of her cans at them, a potential threat of iron, but decided against it, should the Fall King become displeased over the action. "Poachers! Be gone and leave what thou thought to take! Laws of Fairy you do break!" She declared, her steps keeping her moving away from the Fae that spoke.

[Assistant]
Cymbeline had spent most of the morning walking about the forest, day dreaming. She was barefooted, and dressed in a white cap sleeved frock that was trimmed in pale gold silk ribbon, and covered in luminous crystal lace. Her mother had made it for her many moons ago, as a gift for a fall harvest celebration. Her white skin looked as if it blended into the dress itself. She wore her long colorless hair down, as per usual. And though the ground was wet, and there were mud puddles around, her feet and clothes wear clean and without stains.

Unlike any other day, Cymbeline actually had things to do. The Wylde Hunt was descending upon the fall court, and she should have been helping with the preparations, but losing track of time was her specialty. Flying just above the forests canopy of leaves, she looked about for something to entertain herself with. She spotted King Falk's pet human girl being ganged up on. Cymbeline had dubbed her Ms. Marigold due to her red hair, and the dislike of calling her 'She who is born of ashes'. A ways off to the left she saw a Cait Sith fae taunting a human boy. That looked like fun, but she didn't wish to ruin the Cait Sit good time.

With a sigh of boredom she landed softly onto the ground next to the calm translucent ponds in the Summer lands. The bioluminescent fish and fae creatures that inhabited the ponds, all stared up curiously at her for a short moment until they went back to swimming around. This was one of her favorite places to be. This place was home to a multitude of clear ponds and tranquil pools of water, full of glowing little fish and jewel encrusted shells. The ground was covered in soft moss, and the area was surrounded by shaded willows and green summer blooming trees. Mushrooms popped up here and there under the plum trees, and around the berry bushes. When there was a breeze one could hear the twinkling of wind chimes, and jingle of tiny bells. Through the canopy of leaves the summer sun shone down creating light beams that made the place glimmer and shine.

Cymbeline sat on the ground and basket in the warmth of the summer land. She was an autumn fae, but sometime she believed her heart belonged to the Seelie court. The sunshine, blooming flowers, and effervescent life that was the Seelie always called to her. She loved her Autumn, but finding the beauty in it was hard when it was all you were.

[User]
Feoras bounces on his heels some and sighs heavily. This is the last day he could spend in the forest and he was...here. With a bit more pacing he gives up. He goes back from where he came and heads for his forests. Of all the places in his lands his forest was his favorite. He felt that the other forests were inferieor to the beauty they held. The trees were full of leaves and full of life while the pools of water were cool and held many summer water fae who inhabited them and enhanced their beauty. He walks through his forest silently with barely any thoughts since he knows his land well. His orange eyes becoming more of a honey gold, something few see from him of late. His hand sea to stroke the trees and foliage as he walks by them as if he wants to thank them for being there.
As he wanders he finds pools of water with someone there. He watches her silently for a moment before silently going into a tree to watch her better. She seemed to be fae, but she does not look familiar to him. He decides to watch her further before speaking to her.

[Assistant]
Lositay wasn't much interested in the Hunt. It was too direct for his tastes. He would much rather people watch on such days, but with the Hunt and the peace talks going on, it seemed like no one was enjoying themselves. Normally on days as boring as this he would lay in the branches of one of his great ent friends, but he was active in the hunt and left Lost to his own devices. He hopped from tree to tree looking for trouble. Others trouble of course as he was very particular to ride the line of right and wrong never to cross it. He came across an interesting sight. Aisling was going out today. Did she know of Falk's plan to hunt soon? Lost silently followed her as she passed through the Fall-Summer gate onto the Summer side. He didn't dare leave the Fall Realm today so instead he waited patiently.

Several hours had passed as Lost played his flute with the tune of the wind and the trees. He added a touch of careless abandon to his song. He had done this before during the Hunt. The few fey that passed into the Fall realm on this day felt a little more light-hearted than usual. An extra spring in their step during their time here. On any normal day this would be fine and welcome, but carelessness was deadly today. He would never know for certain whether the unknowing fey were caught or what would happen to them, but going back to hear of a good Hunt made hime feel like he did something.

Finally Aisling returned. She was probably the creature that fascinated him most. How this human captured the heart of the King was a feat Lost could barely dream of accomplishing. He would try to study her often, but never made any progress in learning her secret. Most of the time he passed it off as Falk's whim. Lust was his game after all, he must be able to figure it out if love were involved. She walked the path that lead by his tree. He had chosen this tree as it was especially large and the branches were more comfortable. It turned out that another band of hunters were out today as well. Lost watched with excitement as he saw Aisling notice them and futily try to hide. You were better off with your normal gait in the open if you were going to make that much noise hiding. The assumed leader of the group heard her as well and went to investigate. Ha, there are two dummies under my hooves today. He even said he knew the Hunt was coming. When Giomanch catches your scent together he's going to hunt you to the end of existence itself. He watched silently listening to the conversation between the two. This Winter fool should really learn that the Falk has eyes and ears everywhere in his realm. Lost was very content with the information he was gathering now. He was hoping that this Winter-born would leave her alone though. He would feel rather obliged to follow them or confront them and both were rather dangerous.

[User]
Tarani exited her estate out of the massive oak door to the front of her house, instantly greeted by a pale light and a soft wind that smelled of a sweet decay. She knew what time it was for it was Lord Falk's favorite time of times--The Wylde Hunt. She couldn't blame him though--it was her favorite time too! The anticipation for the next Hunt after each one drives Tarani to her limits, sometimes causing her to do awful, terrible things. "This should be a Hunt to remember."

Excitement washed over her body, a sense of euphoria overwhelming her senses. "A truly divine feeling," she breathed in deeply, taking in the beautiful scents upon the air. The leaves were changing, and all sorts of beautiful color swarmed around her feet as she took to the forest paths, her glamour shifting with the colors to camouflage her in her Fae form.

Her pace quickened just as her heart did; the tall oaks shifting ever so slightly out of her path as not to deter her from Lord Falk's Hunt. A focus like none other. All around her the lesser Fae scattered, some even tempting her nerves and suffering the consequences of death--adding to the sweet smell surrounding her. It felt good for to actually be able to DO something. "It feels like the only time I ever enjoy myself is a Fae War, Court Affairs, or a good Hunt," she thought to herself while commenting, "They just aren't like they use to be. Maybe this year they'll--" She stopped mid-stride, exclamations from only yards away breaking her focus. ""Poachers! Be gone and leave what thou thought to take! Laws of Fairy you do break!"

"Ah..." She smiled slightly, noticing the voice of the young girl screaming. "That sounds much Lord Falk's pet." All things considered, she wasn't going to let anything happen to her or the Fall Court. "An interesting start to the Hunt at any rate." Smirking she sped off towards Aisling, in need of aid she may be. After only a few shorts moments the Earth Nymph was only feet from Aisling, the ground slightly trembling as Tarani stepped upon it.

She gazed ahead of her and Aisling was stepping away slightly every available moment that passed, and in front of her on Fall lands was a group of fairies. She tilted her head sideways and smirked under her breath, "Excellent."
"Lord Falk would be very unpleased if anything happened to you, my dear." Tarani advanced closer towards Aisling, attempts to shield and protect her would be much easier for her that way.

"And if you don't mind me asking, what is that you think you're doing here? And causing trouble for this young one no less?" Her tone all but friendly; an edge of malice underlying.


[System]
Appearance: Vanessa stands at a fair five feet and six and a half inches. Not short, but not terribly tall. Vanessa has fairly pale skin. Vanessa's natural eye color is a bright blue, though this changes to red when she is using her ability to see in the dark. Vanessa's teeth are well kept, and essentially perfect. There are two distinct fangs within her mouth and they're easily noticed on even the slightest smile should one be watching carefully. Vanessa's hair is extremely long, reaching just beyond her knees. It's loose and flowing, though it always seems to keep itself out of the way of trouble.

Vanessa has a fairly thin build. Her bust is relatively small, and easily hidden. Her waist is slim, and her hips follow suit. This frequently leads to her being mistaken for a male, but she's quick to correct this with a laugh. Vanessa wears a black suit and dress pants, both complete with silver buttons and cuff links. Beneath these she wears a white dress shirt and a black tie. Vanessa also wears a pair of white dress gloves and a pair of thick black leather boots. Vanessa also wears a pair of comfortable white stockings to keep her feet from chafing against the boots she wears.

Vanessa also wears a pair of small glasses. These used to correct her vision, but now they're unnecessary. Vanessa keeps them on as decoration.

Species Name & Description: Vampire. Vanessa hails from a planet shrouded in eternal twilight. She's but one of many, though you don't frequently see them outside of the few planets that are dark enough. Vanessa is a specific oddity in that she isn't affected by general UV light, but concentrated UV light. (Like a spotlight.) will knock her out cold.

Favourite Side Dish: Blood. That's all she can really consume for subsistence. Tea is a favorite, though only for the flavor.

Useful Skills & Abilities: Vanessa is a crack shot with her Martini-Henry rifle. It's not as flashy as laser beams or whatnot, but the power of a well placed .303 british round is not to be underestimated. Vanessa is also extremely flexible and physically more capable than an average human. Vanessa may also alter her physical appearance, including clothing, at will. On top of that, Vanessa may see in total darkness with ease, but while doing this her eyes glow red, instead of their natural blue, which betrays her nature as a vampire. Vanessa is also capable of melting into a shadow, teleporting or transforming into a bat.

Vanessa may also sing, dance, and twirl her gun like a baton.

Membership Number: #830303. It's actually a hex code for color. It turns out to be blood red...

An Inspirational Quote That Sums Up The Character's Personality: "Don't mind the fangs. I don't bite unless I'm hungry. No, I'm not currently hungry."

History: Do what comes natural.

[User]
Save for the speedy work done by Vanessa, very little food was coming out from behind the counter, and some of the other customers were beginning to voice their disdain by politely asking the beleaguered waiter-bots about their food, or loudly commenting about the terrible review they were giving the place on SpaceBook or, in the case of the government-in-exile of the Jolly Junta sat in booth twelve, declaring that they'll annex the whole system if they don't get their ribs soon. These were, of course, idle threats. The military might of the Jolly Junta was eclipsed by the vehicles sitting outside the restaurant, and the number of customers trying to access SpaceBook gummied up the local network.

 Guerlaghiix And The Flaughjinks were not too pleased about the lack of service either and, seeing Booth Seven get their food was like waving a red flag to a Henderson's Mega Bull. Dangerous, but also kind of amusing, owing to the lack of coordination endemic to that breed. Guerlaghiix rose from his seat, and kept on rising. He was tall, and spindly with it, as if some cruel genetic engineer had gone out of their way to create the gangliest looking pan-humanoid possible as part of a dare. It had many of the features an alien spotter would associate with a pan-humanoid; two arms, two legs, a slight pot belly to the stomach region and a face that played host to various sensory features. Guerlaghiix had two holes for where eyes ought to go, but only one eye to share between them, as the other was covered up with an oily rag that served, just about, as an eyepatch. His singular eye did, however, allow him to condense two eyes worth of malice and downright grumpiness into one. He was skinny, lacking in muscles and completely unarmed, but he did have a cool leather jacket with a patch on the back that read "Guerlaghiix & The Flowjinks", and that sort of apparel tended to inspire a misplaced confidence in the best, and worst, of people.

 "What's this? Queue jumpers, eh," his voice was difficult to hear, on account of how his head was brushing against the high ceiling and, spotting the newsletter, he snorted, sending a fine cloud of mucus and snot into the air above the crew, "and Space Friends too! What're a bunch of..."

 Guerlaghiix tried to think of an appropriate insult, but it was quite obvious that no single catchy word could be used to encompass the diverse members of the Quest For Flavour, and it had him momentarily stumped. Impulse control and forward planning were two traits bred out of their species at an early point. This was in part because they were indeed created as something of a joke, a point which made the species even more antagonistic and just a little bit more ridiculous.

 "...friends up to? Take my advice, whatever it is, don't bother, me and the boys have it all under control. Since we're all such friends," the manner in which he spat the word out suggested that he didn't exactly consider them friends, or it could simply be an unfortunate speech impediment, it was hard to be certain, "how about I take some of them fries?"

 One long arm reached down to take a bowl of sweet potato fries. Guerlaghiix's six long fingers wriggled in anticipation. The restaurant held it's breath, before a technician out back began to beat the air circulatory system with a hammer, cursing the day the manager installed the Dramatic Tension module into the AI that maintained the life support systems.

[Assistant]
MEANWHILE...
A brief interlude to meet the self-appointed nemesis of the Quest For Flavour and find out who paid for the meal.

 The stone hall is barely lit, and mostly empty. The wind howls outside, lashing snow and kicked up ice against the thick walls. Inside, two people seek shelter from the storm. One is a spindly, insectoid creature, with a black carapace that absorbs what little light there is. It crouches down on three legs, while rows of smaller arms bristling with hairs are folded up to keep warm. It's head is a mess of clicking mandibles, segmented eyes and weird little twitching antennae. The other is a small, fuzzy thing - like a polar bear that had an accident with a shrink ray and decided to walk about on its hind paws to impress passers-by.

 "It's just, sir, Doctor, with all due respect, I think there's some, um, points to this plan that don't make sense," the little bear bravely fought her growing sense of unease and the stutter that came with it, "if you could just see fit to run it past me again, maybe, maybe I'll un-un-understand..."

 "It is tremendously simple, Cold Front! Even a fresh larvae could grasp it!"

 "Yes, I under- I mean, the details, Doctor Frosty, the details, how are we going to p-"

 "Tremendously simple! Let me explain it one more time! I set up an account with Henderson's Ribs for the Quest For Flavour," Doctor Frosty clicked his mandibles happily, clearly keen to be given an opportunity to monologue and show off his diabolical plan, "and attach our cred-card to the account! Now whenever they eat at a Henderson's Ribs, I shall know! Our monthly cred-card statement will tell us exactly where they have been! There is no escaping the reach of Doctor Frosty!"

 Cold Front (or, as her parents had named her, Tabby) sighed a little. There were problems with this plan, many problems indeed, and one of the most pressing of these was the use of the phrase 'our cred-card'. What Doctor Frosty really meant was her cred-card. This pointed sigh did not do anything to disturb Doctor Frosty's rant, which was really getting into full swing now. It was only a matter of time, Tabby thought, before the puns and bizarre metaphors started.

 "While they dine on my generosity, I shall be able to predict their movements! None can surpass the icy intellect of Doctor Frosty! Their own gluttony shall be the harbinger of their downfall! The snow shall settle upon their bones, their bones, I say! The ship will be mine, and the galaxy shall once again shiver at my name! Come, Cold Front! We wait... for the mailman!"

[User]
The bees watched Toony's bowl construction trick with wide eyes before engaging in a group huddle to discuss what they might ask the robot for, which was only interrupted by the arrival of food brought most graciously by Vanessa.

 "Thank you Vanessa, I assume there is something up with the standard delivery method?"

The bees broke their huddle and immediately dug in so when the Large humanoid who was so rude too as not introduce himself and had the audacity to try and take someone else's food arrived The Mind had wrestle the two captain bees to turn round and actually look at him.

In an attempt to prepare for the worst and perhaps reduce the impact on their Gold Star standing that starting a fight in a Henderson ribs would bring the 75 bees that had so recently vacated the premises came back in the door and headed for the kitchen. After some confusion and explaining to Clarke that this was not, in fact, a robbery the groups started ferrying out all the other tables orders as well, with only minor losses to the hungry deliverers. They made the decision of pointedly leaving the impatient big man's lot till last, their delivery would probably occur some time after this situation had resolved itself.

Of that situation, the two captain bees who had been forced to pay attention now glared at the intruder with all the confidence they could muster against someone probably a 100 times their height. The Mind, having no such concern due to being present in the now relaying bees as well, still decided to try to put on the airs of being diplomatic so that when either of the deceptively strong ladies(or one considerably more obviously strong lady, basically anyone who wasn't currently sleepy or Fiddlesticks) intervened they could claim the moral high ground.

"Judging by the clock I would say we our food arrived right on time, Vanessa was simply proactive about its retrieval. As for what we are doing, that is non of your business and frankly there's more than enough problems that need fixing that there is no way you can handle them all. Honestly I would surprised if you managed even one. What even is a Flowjink?"

Unfortunately, as every amateur xenologist knows, the race choice of hive-mind comes with massive penalties in it's diplomacy stat, so The Mind was not so adept at dealing with those that may be considered an enemy. If the response where to be rated by hive-mind scholars of the diplomatic arts it would have got an A simply for not being an incomprehensible psychic cacophony followed by planetary invasion.

Neither the Bees or the Mind could do much about the large hand before it arrived, distracted or disembodied as they where, so they would have to leave it up to the wonder of the sweet potato fries to defend their meal and honor physically if they so desired.

[Assistant]
Vanessa was really quite annoyed by the fact that Guerlaghiix was now muscling in upon their food and merriment. That would simply not do, nor would the cloud of mucus and other unpleasantness that had just been emitted from Guerlaghiix's nose. With a swift motion Vanessa gave her gun a spin and sent the cloud of mucus and other unpleasantness flowing away from their table, and away from Guerlaghiix himself to avoid further aggravating him by hitting him with his own mucus. Though that would be honestly rather funny. Vanessa took the time now to teleport out of the booth, gun now in hand, and said. "Now, let's be polite here. That dish is our food, and specifically that dish of sweet potato fries belongs to Fiddlesticks there. I'd appreciate it if you didn't go about touching it too much. The delivery bot has a broken stabilizer and they have someone working on a fix."

It was a subtle motion that Vanessa now made, though one obvious to anyone focusing on Vanessa at the moment rather than the sweet potato fries that were currently the topic of discussion, Vanessa heft her rifle and flipped it to hold it by the barrel, though one would notice something extra to this particular flip. Vanessa had given one of her wrists a flick, and with that same hand caught the back of her gun, right where the trapdoor to load the ammunition would be. Sliding her hand down the weapon, Vanessa pressed the small lever against her shoulder to close the trapdoor rather quickly. If questioned about it, she would say that the rifle needed to be worked on due to it's old age and that the lever was rather loose. Anyone who had previously been talking to Vanessa would know that this was, in fact, a lie. The rifle was in near perfect condition and Vanessa took care of it on a routine basis. What had really happened was an extremely subtle loading. Now Vanessa was holding onto a loaded rifle, ready to fire with a light squeeze of the trigger.

Vanessa didn't want to shoot anyone, though now she obviously could. Depending upon how this situation went Vanessa may or may not be springing into a more violent action. Holding the barrel of the weapon, Vanessa rested the trigger area upon her shoulder, next to her neck. It would be difficult for someone to try and pull the trigger of the weapon without Vanessa knowing about it ahead of time. With her weapon now ready to be used, Vanessa spoke once again. Her accent now being used on purpose rather than worming it's way into her exited speech. "Vyy don't Vee just take our seats once again and forget zat zis detail made it's way into zee day, hm?"

Vanessa made the effort to use her accent sparingly, as speaking with a thick accent could easily lead to conversations being rather irritating as it was repeatedly asked what the speaker had said rather than the message actually getting across in a timely fashion. Plain English was the most widespread language and typically you had to be on homeworlds to find other tongues being spoken. Vanessa was rather fluent in German due to her upbringing and thus was capable of speaking as such, though she often didn't to make conversations quick and easy. She was also dabbling in Latin, though since the language had already been ancient it was rather hard to learn correctly.

With everything said and done Vanessa could do little now but wait. Hopefully the idiotic brute before her would back down without too much of a fuss. It might just turn into a nasty and unpleasant situation if he didn't.


[System]
Viktor isn't done, but Raisa is!
Age: 42
Gender: Male
Home Station: VDNKh (Exhibition)
Occupation: Polis Ranger/Stalker
Appearance:

Faction: Rangers of the Order
Weapons:
::
::
Equipment/Items:
:: A harsh condition suit, for maximum protection on the surface - the material is durable enough to absorb the impact of unfocused small caliber ammunition, but not much else.
:: Viktor has all the gear a stalker typically carries: charger, gas mask, air filters, a modern metro map, at least three to four magazines of ammunition for each weapon he carries.
Abilities:
Veteran Soldier, Veteran Stalker -

Background: Will be revealed in RP!

Name: Raisa (Ra-ee-sah) Sokov
Age: 20
Gender: Female
Home Station: Kuzminki "Lone Station"
Occupation: Scavenger
Appearance:

Faction: Lone Station Survivors
Weapons:
:: 5.45mm AK-74 with a folding stock, mounted flashlight, foregrip & 3x full magazines
:: A metro-forged knife, not a perfect shape - but sharp as any other
Equipment/Items:
:: A courier's bag, hung and clipped over her shoulder - the straps let the bag fall as far as waist height.
:: Various metro-made ammunitions - she holds three clips of 5.45, two belts of buckshot shells, a full revolver magazine, and a full magazine designed for a Makarov PM.
:: Snacks and drinks to last a few days if used wisely. A metal flask of mushroom tea, a metal canteen of vodka, and some mushrooms preserved in tin foil. Not really appetizing, but there you go!
:: An outdated map of the metro, usually accompanied by a beaten-up lighter or small flashlight.
:: A universal 'trigger' charger, and a gas mask with two air filters.
:: Controversially, some marijuana!
Abilities:
Lone Station Grit -
Raisa hasn't gotten through the last five years of hell at this station by sitting back and hoping the station guard will deal with all of her life-threatening problems. From the age of fifteen, she's been watching, learning, and eventually taking part in the use of lethal weapons to defend the station from its many threats, man or mutant. Raisa may still be young, but she's a tireless fighter.
Metro Scavenger -
Even though the area around her station is ridiculously dangerous, Raisa manages to find time to nose around where few others have tread before. Where few others might have run from, if they'd heard a sudden noise. She isn't afraid to venture where others fear, fortunately having never run into an anomaly or a situation she couldn't back out of with a few mere scratches. Whether through luck or just the fact that she isn't scared to look, Raisa finds useful items that others may need, or be able to craft into something better.
Background: Will be revealed in RP!

[User]
(I'm going to be gone for a week. Hopefully, it won't have died by then, but here's my post.)

Malta looked about, the smuggler come adventurer come bootlegger come stalker on the surface, near Sevastopolskaya, or Lone, the ruined sight of apartment buildings hit by the blast a usual sight to see here. Tomas clambered over a fence, breathing heavily through his gas mask, as he raised his Bastard, looking around. He had another 25 minutes, and there were infrequent stalker posts across the surface, that he could raid and grab filters from. The mutants weren't that active today, as the slush buckled under his boots, as he moved into an alley, a little moisture in his gas mask as he looked about. Today, he was headed for Sevastopolskaya, and he guessed he had another couple of minutes walking to get to their surface entrance, before taking a look around inside. And he had business to make with a few people there, as well as getting a delivery. Things to sort out, he reminded himself. The tunnels were too infested of late, and he didn't mind the surface as much as others. There were few radioactive pockets, and the ones that he knew of he could avoid in this area, so he he was content with that. Pushing over a low wall, he saw a pair of mutants run past, as he kept his head down, letting them go. Breathing, he moved forward, Malta moving into the shell of an apartment, as he saw flashlights up ahead.

Getting down, he stayed behind the wall of one of the rooms on the second floor, the sound of some sort of men passing by. He could hear them talking. No radios, they were yelling at each other. This was going to get noisy. Checking his Bastard, he just waited. They were searching each and every room, they were going through this place. He could go around, or stop these fuckers. Malta guessed this was a stalker team, looking for things. It wouldn't matter if they were affiliated with anyone. Malta knew on the surface, it was kill or be killed, if you were Red Line or Reich or Ranger or VDNKh. It wasn't a concern. He kept himself aback, as he heard the door move in the room he was in.

The man entered, wearing a gas mask also, and winterized equipment, searching with his revolver, a weapon that Tomas reminded himself was perhaps a little inadequate for this type of work. And that Tomas now was in a position to take the man down. He didn't waste his time. Knife out, he felt the man turn and yell, as he slashed it into his throat, the man trying to get himself ready as Tomas kicked him down and stabbed him twice, kicking off the man's gas mask. His collegue ran down the corridor, with a combat stance and his weapon raised, yelling back. Tomas cocked the Bastard, and moved to the door, spraying around the corner.

The noise of a body dropping was an indication. Dead. He peeked round, and pulled his mask off, grabbing the filter out of it and keeping it for safe keeping for his own usage. Malta looted whatever else he could, what little they had. He didn't need any more weight, but he had a few items that Malta could sell, a few bits and pieces that could fetch a penny down in the Metro. A few books, some Tolstoy, remarkably. Scrap metal, it wasn't much, but Tomas took what was best out of the lot. Malta moved back down to the other man, and did the same, finding his set practically useless. Looking around, he exhaled, looking at his watch, keeping an eye out. Murder was no longer a problem. He didn't like it, but they would have shot on sight. And nobody would now care that they were as dead as a doornail, as he continued onto Sevastopolskaya.

[Assistant]
"Hey you! Passport!" The four men approaching the one hundred meter checkpoint of Kitai-Gorod looked up sharply, looking at the seven men sitting beside a fire, just behind the fire, a big 7.62x54mm machine gun. The seven men of the checkpoint all stand up. Big strong armored men. Helmets and shemags on their heads. One of the men, with a big double barrled shotgun on his shoulder. This thing isn't one of the Armory or Market made Duplets. This is an honest to god before the war shotgun. All sleek, with long steel barrels and wooden butt. The four men in the tunnel all raise their hands slowly. All of them decked down with big heavily laden backpack and bags. Merchants by the looks of them. They have weapons, but the seven Kitai-Gorod men are not so worried. Three of the bandits step forward and begin to go through the bags of the four traders by the looks of it. Out come horns of ammo, food, water, drinks, flasks of vodka and other beverages of choice. Items that these four out of the tunnel intended to trade here at the station or beyond, but all of this seems to be pay for the guards here. As one of the bandits gets to the last man he suddenly bolts, back down the way he came.

Stanislav sighed and leveled his shotgun. But held up at the last moment. He grinned instead, "Naw, not gonna waste ammo on that one. All alone down the line, if the Darkness don't get him, something else will. Nosalies, Watcher maybe. Who the hell cares. He dies either way." The other bandits all laugh in agreement and send the remaining three down the line, ignoring their protests that almost a third of their wares have been taken as "toll". Stanislav the big man with the shot gun grabs himself some bread, and a few beakers of vodka and sits back down.

As he does he hears the telltale growl of something, then a hiss and a scream of fear. Stanislav laughs, "See? What'd I tell you." A howl, like something calling other things to arms can be heard followed a few moments later by the scream of someone being taken down by several large hungry predators.

Stanislav makes no faces, he just cracks open one of the beakers and takes a good pull from the contents, "Ah, mushroom vodka. The good stuff. Likely from VDNKh. Just like that bag of tea. The really good stuff." He laughed loudly. One of the men stoking the fire, no one paying attenion that maybe 200 meters down the line, someone is being feasted upon.

[User]
"Uh, hey? Sokov?" a familiar voice crept into the tent. As Raisa lowered her book, she saw Sasha nodding at her and waiting for a reply of some sort. Shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly, she nodded back and rolled her hand out to a bundle of sheets her younger friend could take a seat on.

"You may enter, sir. Please wipe your feet on the doormat, the butler will take your coat," Raisa said with a straight face, as if she were completely immersed in the novels scene. Sasha grinned at her, crouched under the opening flap and moved inside, his head brushing against the 'ceiling' of the tent. At least it wasn't as bad as some of the station. The worst off only had sleeping bags, or little more than warm sheets. This was cozy, and it gave Raisa some privacy - to sight, anyway. The young man sat down on the sheets and made himself comfortable, then just watched until Raisa flicked the page of her book and put a scrap of paper in between the next two, saving her place when she shut it. "So, what's the occasion?"

"I figured I should know all the other guards better," Sasha replied confidently. Almost too confidently. Maybe he'd rehearsed before he entered?

Raisa raised a brow at him and shrugged, "So you came here first, did you? No visit to Boris, the old veteran you really should be listening to and watching closely? Curious," she said, still acting with neutrality as she dimmed the dirty lamp between the two.

"Oh, I.. feel more comfortable. With you. I mean-. You know? Same age group and stuff," Sasha chuckled nervously. Raisa finally beamed a smile at him and shook her head, chuckling quietly. The two sat in silence for a short while. Raisa wasn't going to ask him what was on his mind. If he had any real questions he'd ask them.

"It's... The tunnel shit, I swear it's closing in on me all the time when we're on du-" Sasha started to tell quietly, but Raisa fell forwards suddenly with her hand over his mouth. The puzzled look he gave her quickly fell away as he heard the low growl of something just outside the tent. A four-legged silhouette stalked past, paying no mind to whomever was inside. That was no dog. That was a damned nosalis. Sasha tapped Raisa on the arm a few times to let her know he wasn't going to freak out. Letting go of Sasha, the blonde silently reached for her weapon while her friend pulled out a worn metro-made handgun from inside his jacket. The silhouette reached the entrance of the tent, then backed away - toward the communal fire where the majority of the station were. Another shadow, a nosalis on two legs creeping by the tent. This was bad! If they yelled to warn the others, they would sign their own death warrants and be ripped apart by the predatory mutants.

But, regardless of what Raisa and Sasha could have done, the station alarm fired and gunfire could be heard across the whole platform... Now there was no choice but to start moving.

Raisa knew this was it. The state of the guard posts were already bad. If the mutants could simply bypass those checkpoints, Kuzminki Station was no longer safe for any human to stay at. With that in mind, she opted to grab all of her gear before exiting the tent, AK primed and ready. Sasha followed her out, watching her back as she led him to the north west tunnel. Evidently, the tunnel leading to the next station wasn't the one teeming with mutants. It wasn't a difficult decision to leave now while they had a chance. There were bandits at Tekstil'schiki, but anywhere would be better than this. Raisa didn't say a word regarding the others, and Sasha didn't care about anything but getting out of there. He couldn't stop looking back... Every burst from a gun, every scream had him on edge...

Kuzminki, or 'Lone Station' to some, had been waiting for this moment. It was inevitable. The few survivors would scatter, and most of the guards would die defending the non-combatants.


[System]
Mikhail "Misha" Volkov

"Taking a life is easy. If you do it right, it can be as easy as simply waiting for it to happen. What is dangerous is when you stop caring about who or why and start to simply... enjoy it."

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Character Summary
Aliases: 'Misha'

Age: 32

Birthday: June 8th
Race/Species: Dea Al Mon
Gender: Male
Birthplace: Dea Al Mon, Kaeleer.

Jewel color:
Birthright: Red
Offering: Gray

Class/Caste: Prince

Languages:
Common
Dea Al Mon
Occupation:

Saboteur, Assassin. Usually takes works from noble houses plotting against other houses or even against themselves.

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Appearance

Height:
1,90m

Weight:
80kgs

Eye Color:
Blue eyes.

Skin Tone:
White

Body Type:
Tall and slim.

Hair Color:
White.

Hair Style:
Long, sometimes tied in a long ponytail, sometimes untied.

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Character Psychology

Sexuality:
Heterosexual
Relationship Status:
Single
Personality:
Mikhail's personality is an interesting topic. Normally he is a very amicable guy. Most of the times he is easy to approach. Often enjoying talking with others, the word 'kind' seems to perfectly describes Mikhail. People often enjoy having him close by as he is generally a very good company as he is always a calm and quiet guy. He tries to avoid unnecessary confrontations and draw as little attention to him as possible, often preferring to keep his opinions to himself if he sees they could draw the wrong type of attention to him. Regarding social situations, he will rarely approach someone, but if people approach him, he will mostly always show to be a calm and friendly guy.

Mikhail fears being betrayed by someone he trusts, so thanks to this fear, he avoids any serious relationship. He is especially careful around blood female, as he knows that love is an even more effective way to control someone than craft. That doesn't mean he dislikes females. He greatly enjoys reading romance books & etc.

Despite his placid and calm smile, there is one part of his expression that he cannot change. His eyes. Even with his calm, kind expression, if you look deep within his eyes, you can see an almost... frightening coldness... A calculating and penetrating gaze that seems to analyze everything that happens around him carefully. Although no one who saw Mikhail's 'normal' appearance could even think about it, this faint coldness on his eyes hide the darker side of his personality. Cold, calculating and cruel. When 'working', in combat or if someone is unfortunate enough to make Mikhail show this side, the aura of danger Mikhail exhales is almost palpable.

Habits:
- Training. From studying, stretching and keeping his body flexible to actual combat techniques and even things like training his balance and gymnastics.
- Always checking thoroughly the places he sleep. Be it an unknown inn or the same place he slept for the last week.
- Taking a few moments before sleeping to meditate, in part to keep his 'sanity'.

Hobbies:
- Cooking
- Reading, especially story books or sometimes studying.
- Training, specifically free running and gymnastics.
- Sightseeing, walking around and appreciating the small things such as the night breeze, the smell of the flowers & etc.

Fears:
- Ironically, even though he avoids relationships, he fears never having anyone whom he can really trust. Someone to stay by his side.
- Losing his freedom.
- Being betrayed.

Likes:
- The thrill of the hunt and kill.
- Training
- Reading
- Using 'training' as an excuse to go around the city to climb tall places and just enjoy the scenery.

Dislikes:
- Alcohol
- Being ordered/manipulated.
- Having others realizing who exactly he is or knowing his past.

Skills

General Skills
- Cooking
- Manipulation
- Lockpicking
- Anatomy and herbal medicine (including poisons)

Combat skills
- Using wires (both steel and craft made ones) as weapons.
- Daggers, knives and throwing weapons.
- Stealth, traps and ambush tactics.
- Infiltration
- Hunting

Magic skills

- Mikhail is able to create wires with his craft. These razor sharp wires are used by him either to create traps, ambushes or in actual combat by cutting or snaring his opponents. He has some degree of control over these wires. He can make them move as a projectile through the air, as they had weighted tips or simply make them almost weightless, as they were made of silk. He still cannot control their trajectory though or completely control their movement as in make them chase someone or make them just go and wrap themselves around someone while he does nothing.

- Sight Shield

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History

Background

Born deep within the forests of Dea Al Mon in a house of healers, Mikhail was entrusted to be his older sister, Eleanor's escort even before he was born. It was only natural for the one who was supposed to be the next head of the house to have an entrusted escort to her and what best choice than one trained since he was young by the house themselves? Born and trained with the sole reason of being his sister's escort, following her at all times, Mikhail was trained exhaustively. Assassination, combat, stealth, traps... The best way to understand an assassin and how they work was to be one. Never having a say in the matter, he simply followed orders. His fate, his future was already decided for him the very moment he was born.

Despite the fact that Mikhail himself shouldn't be treated with the same 'standing' or importance of his sister, it was undeniable that he cared about her. Not only thanks to his instincts as a blood male, but she was his sister after all. It was only natural for Mikhail and Eleanor get close, after all, he was practically together with her or watching her every single time he was awake. Their relationship wasn't one of a guard and the one he was supposed to serve. It was closer to one of a brother and a sister's. Mikhail wasn't allowed to be away from her, so the only thing close to 'having fun' he had was either reading books, talking or even studying anatomy and healing with her (watching her for so long made Mikhail really interested in herbal medicine, including their varied effects on many different races, the effects of poisons and how to make antidotes for them). Despite some of the most powerful women in the family being clearly unsatisfied with their relationship, after some time, they allowed Mikhail to be a bit 'closer' and present for Eleanor than just being a shadow, protecting her from the dark as it was good for her own development both as a healer and a woman.

But unfortunately, things weren't going to keep that 'peaceful' for long... Mikhail never failed his job. Nothing ever even touched Eleanor, but he never expected that the ones whom she should be wary of weren't outsiders... Caught completely by surprise, Mikhail just realized that he and his sister had been betrayed by the ones closest to them when it was already too late... On the night Eleanor was poisoned. After feeling unwell, she went to her room early after the dinner. Mikhail didn't even know what happened, until she never woke up the next day. With his sister dead and him being framed by her death, Mikhail did the only thing he could... he ran, leaving everything behind without even knowing who was responsible for such act.

After losing his sister, whom he had a deep bond, not only due to his instincts as a blood male, but due to his personal feelings as well, he fell into a deep depression. Without a home to return to, without anyone to rely upon after being betrayed by the ones he trusted the most, he closed his heart to the world, not allowing anyone to get closer to him. Being alone in the world, he started to work as an assassin to earn money. Taking a life wasn't hard, especially with his training. Being cold and effective like he was, contracts began to become common for him. But neither the bloodshed nor the alcohol were able to make him completely forget the pain of having lost his dear sister, of failing to protect her. Desperately trying to find relief to that agonizing feeling, his assassinations began to become even more cruel and ruthless as he tried to get rid of all the frustration and anger on his heart on his targets. It was due to this feeling that he developed an unique, extrmely cruel and brutal type of craft, creating razor sharp wires with his jewel. But nothing could ease the pain. Not the killing, nor the alcohol, not even the books, which did the completely opposite, reminding him of his sister even more.

When he was about to lose himself, he heard about a certain Black Widow in Terreille that, for a price, offered her services to anyone, without asking questions. After a long journey and reflecting about a lot of things, he knew what he had to ask her. The only thing that could get rid of that pain... He asked her to make him forget about Eleanor and what happened back in Dea Al Mon. After she was finished, Mikhail was able, for the first time in years, to enjoy simple things like the beauty of nature and the smell of flowers. The pain was gone. He felt like he got rid of an incredible weight he was carrying all those years. After spending a few months living in a small village surrounded by the forest, he learned how to smile once more and find balance between his old, cold self and the new person he had became.

Unfortunately for him, the mind spell wasn't complete. Even without remembering anything about what happened in Dea Al Mom, Mikhail was having strange nightmares every night, leftovers of the incomplete mind spell. Once again, he went to see the Black Widow, aiming to get rid of the nightmares, which were starting to affect his work.

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Additional Information

Other:
- Always carries his twin daggers with him together with a number of throwing knives with weighted tips and a few meters of an incredibly thin and sharp steel wire.

Theme Song:

[User]
Blood's Jewels
"Terreille in Trouble"

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@eclecticwitch The woman and Eyrien from Dene Nehele went to sleep after a long chat into the evening of that night. All parties shaken by the revelations, though none slept deeper than the three Saroth brothers. Their snores filling the rounding halls of the eyrie. A comforting sound for the Black Widow though perhaps not so much for Fatima, Lucivar, and Andressa. The Black Widow however remained awake longer into the night than the Queen or her men. Her fingers tracing the threads of a tangled web as she considered the shape of the Court that was forming. What she had seen was becoming reality and Faeril Ashkevron was worried it wasn't necessarily a good thing. The moon was lowering towards the horizon when she did rest, the Queen settled in the room behind her. No danger would touch the Lady.

@13org The morning came and with it the sky was a bright blue, with clouds that scuttled over the sky due to a quick and fierce breeze. The mountains of Askavi towered over the bowels of valleys and the forests that clung to the slopes like a skirt of green about the grey stone. Dark forms of Eyriens flickered high overhead as they went about their daily tasks. Aren was slowly waking as dawn broke into the valley over the proud peaks. Standing over it all like a dark looming pillar was Ebon Askavi. The Keep and lair of Witch. The Sanctuary of the Blood. There were plenty of rumors about the place that made the Blood of Terrielle wary of it. That it was shut to all, that there were horrors in those halls the Blood did not dare risk. Yet, every so often someone would be so brave or desperate to chance it. The small home that they had been directed to lay far above him, a staircase carved from the side of the mountain narrow and doubling back on itself. Yet at the top was a home carved a mountain's face. The windows sparkling from the rain of last night. The garden blooming in delight of the rain. The door looking battered but study as it dared any to approach it.

[Assistant]
Ashkevron Residence in Askavi

As an early riser, she awoke before the sun. Bleary-eyed from staying up too late the night before, she sat up and brushed messy curls back from her face. A yawn wracked her body, forcing her mouth wide open and her arms into the air to work kinks out of her back. The excitement of last night left her feeling a bit bruised, physically speaking. Shaking and fear and happiness. It had been a tumultuous evening.

The young queen busied herself with washing her face, combing her hair and dressing up from clothes she had stored away. Crafting them into existence, the simple woolen dress made by her people stopped at mid-thigh. Woolen leggings covered her legs and her usual leather boots kept her feet warm and away from the stone floors.

Fatima wandered down to the kitchen and after some rummaging was able to begin making a delicious pot of coffee. She made sure to make it large as there were likely others who would enjoy the brew. As the sun peeked through the windows she searched the kitchen and came up with some bacon, eggs, and the ingredients for pancakes. The tiny woman set about preparing a large breakfast for the eyrie. If the men who lived here, and Lucivar, were anything like her old court they would have a healthy appetite. And she enjoyed the old skill of cooking. She hummed an old tune her mother taught her, sipping her black coffee and setting out plates.

[User]
Ashkevron Residence in Askavi

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For Mikhail, as usual, the night was long. Having only short rests, interrupted by nightmares, he had only a very few hours of sleep the entire night. Sitting on the bed without making a sound, he quietly waited for the sunrise, staring to the sky through the slightly open window. After some time, the sun finally rose in a clear, bright blue sky, bathing the small inn in it's morning rays. A single sun ray entered through the slightly open window, drawing a bright line on the small room Mikhail was in. After another long night plagued by nightmares and fragmented memories, he would finally go to meet the infamous Black Widow. If he was lucky, that would be the last time he had to face the day without a proper night of sleep.

Covering his face with his hood, Mikhail left the small inn after throwing a few silver coins to the innkeeper to pay for his stay. Without wanting to waste time, he went straight to the place he was told the Black Widow lived. The small house he was told to go stood far above the dark tower that loomed over the city, Ebon Askavi. The dark tower, despite being a source of grim rumors, was nothing short of a magnificent view, with the sunrays reflecting off the black stone.

After climbing a long and narrow staircase etched on the side the mountain, he arrived on a house carved on the mountain's very face. Truth be told, Mikhail had expected something different. The small house was peacefully resting behind a small, but beautiful garden, still sparkling due to the last night's rain. It looked nothing like the place the infamous Black Widow from the rumors would live. But it was the only clue he had regarding where the woman lived.

Carefully walking through the garden, Mikhail gently knocked on the sturdy door.

"I came searching for the Black Widow." he said, giving a step back, waiting for an answer.


[System]
Notice: Actually MrStitches' character. Due to complications, I, the GM, posted this for him.
Appearance: Stands 5"9 while weighing 160lbs, having some build. Typically wears a t-shirt followed by blue jeans and black and white sneakers. Eyes are a dark blue matched up with thin lips and cheek bones present but not completely showing. His hair is a short but shaggy, filthy blonde, literally as his hair is guaranteed to have grease in it.

Personality: Doesn't communicate well which was inherited by his spacey attitude. Jin carries enough manners to seem polite but in contrast is has a ruthless honesty unshelling the stubbornness which he upholds regardless of situation. Observant, generally curious but not enough to put himself in harm's way.

Background: Truly a basic scrap gather pulling his sister along. Not necessarily orphans but due to the separation from their parents Jin took the responsibility of his sister to heart. To dismantle their quiet life style was the discovery of a storage facility barely intact but still sparing the cargo within. After the discovery of the NC the action of finding a use was the present process due to a lack of communication on Jin's part.

Tactical Preferences/Skills: Depth perception, the sense of distance between two objects or one's self. If possible the preferred distance between 4500 meters and 100 to target or group. Depending on external attachment of NC range preference may increase or decrease.

Additional Notes: Enjoys the causal work of fixing his NC's parts or reading books to his sister, of course when he can find them.

Name:Destiny

Appearance: A baggy coat going down to her ankles. She stands only 4"3 while wearing sandals to follow her rolled up pant legs. Her hair is also blonde like Jin's, practically being a smaller female version of him.

Personality: Bipolar. One second Destiny can be the sweetest girl and instantly can switch to bitch mode. If there were triggers Jin wouldn't really know.

Background:(Look at Jin's because they are no part were separate, in the case where they knew where the other was.

Additional Notes:Literally hates bald people for reasons unknown to her brother.
Code-Name: Dancing Coyote

Appearance: Stands approximately 20 feet while standing. Looks like a giant metal wolf. The right eye is shielded by a door mechanism which allows the cover plate return within the facial structure. With the jaw opening in place of a throat a large crystal reflector exists. The tail in comparison to the general body color is grey rather then the darker, slightly black shine of its 'scruff', and back look of layered lightweight plates.

Body-Plan: Its body structure allows smooth terrain traversal while also enabling easy use of the NC's Long range capabilities. In short it enables the NC to travel quickly and leave compromised positions to resume fire elsewhere.Type/Quality: Medium, Generally purposed for a mobile sniper. Has the capability to use artillery or missile systems but sacrifices speed to do.

Equipment: Non-bipedal Neural system. Hydrogen based thrusters connected to gas filter which is located on the throat. Thermal generator also functioning from hydrogen. Backup heat thrusters for basic movement functions. High capacity battery system inside the chest unit near the driver. In the jaw the Crystal reflector, a laser system which uses drives for practical purpose typically has a magnetic long distance pull and, a secondary for basic ranged combat currently including a plasma laser.

Armaments: A Large detachable rail gun which connects to the adaptable weapon system on the NC's hip. Small shoulder mounted 75. Machine gun. Resting in the shoulder joints are anti air missiles which aren't deployed when using another weapon.

General Description/Notes: An NC based for support or 'Single-target' missions. The armor is capable of taking a solid blow being a mix between depleted uranium and titanium alloy structure, but it's not recommended to be in direct combat due to its lack of close range capabilities and non bipedal design preventing quick pivotal turning.

[User]
Joe wasn't particularly fond of having to do more simulations, they were always either way too easy or way too hard. Although that couldn't be blamed on the scenarios, as the computer was simply deterministic, which in turn meant all its actions would always be the same in the same situation, thus making it either easy or nearly impossible to beat it, at least in Joe's opinion.
But he didn't complain, as all that would do is disrupt everyone for no gain, so he plugged into one of the simulation pods.

He was greeted with a virtual, globular menu around his 'cockpit', mission scenarios and descriptions. Only one was apparently selectable, and already had a 'loading' bar underneath it at 90%. While waiting for the scenario to fully load, Joe decided to check back with the specialist whether or not everything is working alright, since some of the pods had been worked on: "Any quirks left in the system, or is everything as the manual states?"

"Err, yeah, everything should be just fine and to-the-book? Are you seeing something wrong, Mr… Verona, right?"

"I am not seeing anything out of the ordinary here, I just want to make sure you didn't overlook anything and thus render your readings unusable."

"I am the expert on that here, but thanks for caring. As I said before, do tell if the following little mission is a bit too easy, just reminding."

The loading bar reached 100%, and Joe promptly selected the only choice.

He was thrust into the virtual environment of the simulation proper, with the 'fabric' of that world going fritzy every so often, making it lag or corrupt visually. James noted this and was intrigued, mildly worried.

"Are you feeling alright? Your readings are fluctuating heavily, at best. It's wanting to just read '∞%' sometimes... You should be frying in that case!"

"I am fine, although the simulation is frequently showing heavy visual and audio artifacts, alongside lag. Were the computers downgraded?"

"No, they're the best available. I optimized them myself when I got here. Do you have anything unusual involving your nervous system in your medical history? Brain damage, electrical accident, anything at all?"

"Not that I know, but neural resonance tests I sometimes did in private always ended up reading NaN, not a number. I thought the software was faulty and reported it to the engineers, to take a look at it. They said it was fine before the last test I did, which yielded the same result."

"Then what the heck is wrong…? I'm looking at your plug's firm and software and it seems as up-to-date as possible and bug-free. Whatever's wrong, it has to be with you I guess! Do you experience anything odd when in the cockpit or what?"

"Not that I know. What happens if you undo your optimizations and read out every variable after each calculation? The values causing the errors should be apparent then."

"Well gee with you plugged in that does have a chance to make your brain dribble out of your ears. Perhaps you should just do this later while we figure this out?"

"Fine with me, do you want a recording of the current output of the plug for testing with a dummy plug?"

"...Do I look like a corporate lackey who has access to that sorta stuff? Or am I reading you wrong?"

"No, but maybe you got one somewhere, who knows?"

"Well I don't, although I do need one in hindsight. It'd be really useful huh? In any case, you can climb out. You're dismissed, I guess. Unless you wanna watch the others flail around."

"I'll stay to watch, I have nothing better to do at the moment." After saying those words, Joe unplugged and exited the pod.

[Assistant]
Despite being in perfect health, Eli did not look well, nor had she since their last mission. Her posture, while straight, was low in the shoulders, and her head, the white hair stray and unkempt beneath her hood, was tilted down almost perpetually when she wasn't at attention. Her eyes showed most of the stress, though, glassy and sky-like only in the right light now, they seemed darker, more abyssal, and sunken.

As she stepped up to approach her designated pod, there was a tug at her sleeve and she saw Vera hold out a thermos to her. Against Eli's directions --though not her wishes-- the girl had come along, holding fast to her secretarial duties. Eli's worry didn't stem from her duties though, but her position as a whole. Vera had been allowed in under...their previous captain's command, and while perhaps the girl had thus far skirted beneath the radar, Eli wasn't keen on making her presence blatantly known to the higher ups unless it was necessary.

"Thanks, Vi," Eli said, softer tone slipping out despite the other company present, but only for a moment. She took a sip from the thermos, then handed it back and nodded towards the door. "Go on, I'll come get you after work."

Perhaps it was because of Eli's state, or perhaps Vera understood the potentially precarious position she was in. Perhaps it was just too early, and the little girl hadn't yet woken up enough to put up a debate. Whatever the case, Vera nodded obediently, then scurried out of the training room, back towards the dorms.

Eli tugged her scarf down and pulled back her hood, then stepped up and into her pod to enter their simulation. For whatever subtle differences there were between simulated piloting and actual piloting, the enabling of pain receptors made all of them irrelevant, at least to her. She'd always prefer the feel of her limbs as one with the weight of Blur's, but the certain freedom simulations allowed was welcome.

Before her eyes, Blur's various systems came online. Weapons, check. Mobility, check. Targeting, check. Reflex Sync was 95, her average, and the neural sync teetered between 99 and 100 for a few odd moments before clicking into check as well. Green across the board.

"Blur is clear." As the environment began to load in Blur pulled the hilt of the standard-issue beam sword. While the plasma blade housed in a sheath at her back was by far her favorite, she'd made a point not to draw it unless it was going to do work. She took note of Joe's absence, but was confident one less team member wouldn't jeopardize their simulation.

[User]
---

---

STEIN KALFOX

"Greed is so destructive. It destroys everything."
E A R T H A K I T T

---

---

SIMULATION ROOM - NEW ANCHORAGE

It had been only seven days since Sophia decided to deject herself from New Anchorage.

The events around New Anchorage had been… aggravating to Stein to say the least. Not only did their irate commanding officer decide to jump ship, the program had nearly collapsed into nothing after little than one mission with the group. It was a hard reality, but independent factions had to deal with this all the time— she knew that quite well considering during her time at Volkov she had read the reports and looked over the facts. Had Michael Graham not been hired in Sophia's absence she most certainly would've spoken to the elders about taking lead; she certainly had the field experience compared to anybody else New Anchorage had even despite her lack of experience in other areas needed. But Graham had seemingly come out of nowhere when the opportunity opened and now he had restructured the operation as best he could in the time he had. But something smelled wrong… as it did when Sophia lied to her about the statistics of the previous mission she had inquired about— she just couldn't place what was wrong with newly appointed Commander Graham.

But she knew something was up. Time would tell what it would be, perhaps.

A heavy breath left her lips as the doors to the simulation room opened, the female pilot and soldier walking forward— her hair cut short, dangling right below her neck unlike the long strands she had when she had entered the service of New Anchorage.

"You must be Stein Kalfox."

Stein nodded as she looked to notice one of the pods, next to the one Elizabeth Jackspar had chosen. Seemed good enough. "I'll take Pod A02."

Mandated simulation was a familiar feeling that reminded her of home back in Magadan. Her last simulation in New Anchorage had been with Jan Van Gent and it was particularly brief. This was with what remained of the squadron. She went through the typical pre-setup of simulation as the machine soon began to whir back to life. Her brows narrowed as she prepared to focus on the simulation that had been prepared, eager to get back in the sense of things.

"Little Dragon is clear."

[Assistant]
As the two got situated in, the environment of their virtual world changed once more into the actual mission. They were immediately greeted by a hill, a large Neural Combatant sized door built into it. There were two red points on the door, near the middle, just about the size of Blur's demolition charges.

James 'got on the radio' once more, "Alright! Just do what comes natural when breaching the facility. Not every route is as obvious as this one, and alternatives are always possible, just like a real facility. You have one hour and thirty minutes to clear out the entire area." James reassured them, "You're both good at this, so as I said.. Just do what comes natural, and keep your guard up?"

Movement could be heard from the other side of the door, faintly.

James got 'off the radio' and began taking notes on a clipboard she left near one of the podules, paying attention to the readings she got on a nearby console. "So, mind lending me an outsiders' perspective, Joe? About how naturally skilled would you say Eli is?"

James continued, "The records I've found around seem to imply she's either the second or third most attuned to NC piloting we have, would you agree with that?". While waiting for an answer, she began writing a few things down.


[System]
Age: 19
Appearance:

Hometown: Virbank City, Unova
Height: 5"10
Weight: 140 lbs
Occupation: Pokemon Field Researcher
Likes:
-Hiking and Swimming
-The Ocean and Seafood
-Guitar and jazz
-Travelling and Sailing
-Adventuring and Documenting, especially related to his field
-Myths and Rumors
Dislikes:
-Dragon Pokemon
-Dealing with machines and technology
-Disturbing wild pokemon & their environments
-Fear of the unknown
-Sweets and desserts (except fruit), especially sweet drinks
Talents:
-Knowledgeable about most theories and studies on pokemon mutations
-Has an ear for gossip
-Observant and analytical
Personality: Graz' most definitive trait is his curiosity. He is always looking for ways to satisfy his questions, even if that means going forth himsef to investigate. He is also fairly easy-going and enjoys an adventurous lifestyle, often growing impatient if left to stay in one place for too long. Hardworking enough to succeed in the competitive field of research but not particularly motivated in most other aspects of life, Graz is easy enough to talk to, though he'll mostly either seem too intense with questions or absentminded as he thinks of other things. Because of the intense ridicule he's faced when dealing with his particular field of research (dubbed crypto-zoology by his peers) he becomes incredibly definsive about his findings, and refuses to share them with people he doesn't trust. In addition, after that fateful night, he hasn't been able to tolerate dragon pokemon, and upon viewing one is met with his usual curiosity paired with mistrust and fear.
Background: For the most part, Graz lived an ordinary childhood. The son of commuters to Castelia City, he always felt the bustle of city life without having to live in an especially crowded area. He was never partiularly interested in pokemon only because the life of a trainer did not appeal to him- capturing wild pokemon for the purpose of battle seemed exciting, but he wasn't sure he was competitive or dedicated enough for such a life. He hardly paid much attention to pokemon until one particularly stormy night when he was around twelve.

The entire town woke to the sounds of haunting howls and moans from the ocean. Coming from a fairly superstitious family, Graz was kept inside and the blinds were drawn, but his curiosity got the better of him and he snuck out. The sight that met him was burned into his memory forever. With only lamp posts, windows, and the moon to illuminate the streets, Graz saw in the distance a massive silhouette. There was no doubt the ghostly song was coming from the creature, as it walked up and down Virbank's coast. Upon a closer inspection, it looked to be about the shape of a Goodra- but there were no confirmed instances of a Goodra being as big as the one he saw! It was at least the height of a skyscraper and had a call that could rival even the largest of frigates.

Drawn to the monster, Graz rushed to the beach and looked into its big, glowing eyes for a few moments before it turned and retreated back into the ocean, underneath the upset waves of the stormy sea. That was the last he saw of the creature, though in the following years he would spend hours at the beach hoping for a miracle, anything to prove the endless night terrors weren't just his imagination. He had even learned to sail, his interest piqued after observing one of the many mysteries the sea had to offer. No one else had seen the pokemon, at least no one who would speak about it. Nobody believed him, claiming that if such a pokemon could exist, then it would certainly be captured and used by a master pokemon trainer. But Graz knew what he saw.

The internet was ripe with stories of mysterious pokemon variations and mutations- Alolan forms and shiny pokemon were the more accepted forms of genetic mutation and abnormality, and no research had proven that such pokemon could exist. He became something of a laughingstock in even suggesting the possibility, and for awhile wondered if he might be crazy. And so Graz resolved he would become a pokemon researcher, to prove that extraordinary pokemon existed- not legendary or mythical pokemon, but "ordinary" species that had become something else. He would document their existence, for himself if not the entire world.

Now working under one of the most distinguished universities in the world in the field of pokemon research, Graz is investivating some leads in the Kanto region with his trusty assistant Vaporeon Napoleon, who he'd had since he was a child, and Pacasso, a cottonee who joined him right before he left Unova. Currently, the team is investigating reported sightings of a giant Dragonite off the region's southern coast. . .

Pokemon:

Vaporeon - Male
Ability: Water Absorb
Moveset:
-Surf
-Hydro Pump
-Ice Beam
-Light Screen

---

Cottonee - Male
Ability: Prankster
Moveset:
-Switcheroo
-Grass Whistle
-Mega Drain
-Tailwind

[User]
Marie had slept through her alarm like she normally did, and was woken up by Ninetails licking her face.

"Mm...Ninetails, it's too early..." she murmured, pushing the Pokemon away gently. Ninetails however didn't relent, and eventually just pulled Marie out of bed. She fell with a thud.

"Ow! What was that about?" Marie said, rubbing her head. Ninetails barked, and pointed at the calendar with one of her tails, to which Marie rose and moved to look, wiping her eyes.

"Huh...it's the 21st...wait...todays the day!" it finally clicked, and Marie jumped and cheered. "Today's the day I get to go and be a pokemon trainer!"

The rest of the morning was a bit of a blur, as she went to shower, and packed her bags for the trip. She ensured that Seel and Ninetails were well fed, and only after a reminder from Ninetails did she remember to get food for herself. Once she was dressed, showered, fed and ready, she headed to the beach to see her parents. She ran the whole way, taking her sandals off so she could feel the sand.

"Mom! Dad! I'm off to catch pokemon!" she shouted as she ran into the beach hut, smiling happily. Even when her father frowned.

"Are you sure that's today? I'm sure that was next month..." he said thoughtfully. Marie pouted.

"No dad, it's today. The 21st, remember? I've got the pokeballs that mom left, and I've packed properly. Me, Ninetails and Seal are ready to see the world!"

Her father sighed. "Fine, fine. Your mother is away, but give her a phone call when you get to the first pokecenter ok?" He moved over to give his daughter a hug. "Please be careful dear. I love you, as does your mother, and...we'll worry."

"Daaaad! You're so embarrassing!" She said, going bright red as she hugged him back "I love you too. Now, time for adventure!"

She waved, and left the beach hut, heading for the bridge over to pallet town, and onto adventure!

(OOC - free for PC or GM interaction! Feel free to tag me or PM me)

[Assistant]
Cassandra woke up a little after one in the afternoon. She grabbed the bottle from last night and took a swing to wake her up. Looking out the window she had a good view of Vermillion City's port. Her Haunter came floating over to her with a wide smile on it's face.

"Yeah I know buddy, it's early for me too. I'ma grab a shower and a bite to eat than we have to move on to the next gig." She said to the ghostly pokemon as she made her way to the shower. "And don't touch the bottle, last time you did we lost all our money."

Two hours later

Cassandra slung her small bag over her shoulder, she had to figure a way to land a record deal, and she was getting just desperate to try the gimmick that guy a few weeks ago suggested. But she didn't want to be a singing trainer, that was a last ditch effort. She left Vermillion City behind, it was time to visit home, in Saffron.

[User]
A ray of golden light, accompanied by the rattling of metal rings against the mantle of a nearby window's curtain, pierced the veil which was Clive's slumber. He stirred in his sheets for a moment, before realizing his mother had opened the window, allowing the radiance to pour over his room.

 "Wakey Wakey, Clivey. You've got to eat a good breakfast if you want to be strong for your journey." she said with a smile as she tied the curtains open. "We must make sure your Pokemon are also ready for the trip ahead!"

Clive wouldn't see the smile, but rather hear the excitement in her voice as she said the words. She wouldn't say it out loud, but Clive knew that somewhere inside her she was a little disappointed that he had decided to not remain as a Pokemon Ranger. But she was supportive of him. She tried her hardest to provide for him the things he needed for his journey across the region.

He would be hiding his disoriented expression beneath his blankets to shield himself from the gleaming light.

His mother strolled back over to the door, briefly petting the head of the waking Golduck which lay at the foot of Clive's bed, earning a soft "coo" from the Pokemon. "Be dressed and downstairs in five minutes or less, for breakfast." she ordered before leaving the room, making her way downstairs. Still as bossy as she was when I was a kid... he thought with a smile.

He'd lay there for a moment before tossing the blankets from his face and sitting up. He had decided that he'd spend the the few days before his journey visiting his mother. They had talked about his plans, as well as what Pokemon he would be looking to catch first. But now it was time for him to depart.

He would remove himself from the bed, and dress before heading downstairs with Nove, his Golduck. He'd be dressed in his favorite coat, a orange-brownish, high-collar long coat which fell to his ankles. He also brought his satchel, which carried what supplies he could acquire for his journey, down with him.

He sat with his mother, after releasing his Pokemon from their vessels to get their own food, and ate the breakfast she had prepared for them. They reviewed his traveling plans once more before he departed. After returning his Pokemon, excluding Nove, and giving his mother a hug, he walked to the front door, his satchel at his hip.

"Thank you for helping me with this, mom." he said over his shoulder. She returned his words with a smile, which he couldn't see, but knew was there.

He opened the door, stepping out into the pre-noon sun, alongside Nove. It was time for his journey to begin.

[Assistant]
Just as the long day had just started with the sun rising over the hills, the S.S. Anne II approached the Vermillion port. Luca leaned against the rails of the deck with a poorly crafted handmade pikachu hat on his head. "Finally here," he said in a sigh of relief. His hat suddenly started to shuffle around until a pair of glowing eyes appeared at under the pitchblack void inside, just on top of his hair. The little critter under the cloth let out a gleeful cry, quickly followed by another, much higher pitched cry. A Floette with blue and red patterns appeared from inside his bag and quickly flew a few rounds around him. The pokemon on his head growled at the Floette as she landed on top of the hat.

The ship settled in and the walkway was dropped down to the docks. "You shouldn't be in the open too much, Rosy," he said, gesturing to his bag. After a moment of pouting, Rosy flew back into the bag, trying to close the zipper from the inside. He walked down to land with his luggage in tow. He shuffled his feet inside his shoes in celebration of their arrival on land. He looked around to see the denizens of the quaint city up and about. "We have half a day to ourselves, so what shall we do?"

[User]
Sitting at the docks, legs hanging over the ocean, made Vermillion City feel a little more like home. Not that Graz missed Virbank too much, but the vibrant colors and lively energy was quite different than his grungy, muted, hometown. The ocean even smelled differently here; a little sweeter and hotter than in Unova. Under the clear blue waves, the researcher could see a school of small fish pokemon jubilantly flitting about, when they started to scatter in a panic as if plagued by an unseen force. Finalizing the coordinates of his next destination on his wristwatch, Graz stood up and patted his leg, to signal to Napoleon it was time to go.

His assistant leaped out of the water, instantly becoming visible as he came into contact with the air. In his mouth was the head of a magikarp, and an eye popped out as the vaporeon happily crunched away, making satisfied slurping and growling noises. His next destination would be a few miles out the coast of the city, to investigate some sea caves where the theorized pokemon had been spotted. Though he didn't want his hopes to be unreasonably high, he couldn't help the butterfree in his stomach or the smile spreading across his face. He technically hadn't found any evidence yet, but he was sure that Kanto, rich in history and myths, would take him steps closer to his goal.

But he was in no rush. The Institute had contacted him with a heads-up that a colleague would be in the area if he wanted some help with sorting through the leads and eyewitness accounts or even chartering passage to the purported location of the sightings. The university was cooperative for the most part, and while there was more competition between engineers and other inventors, the researchers usually were pretty good about playing nice. It was with a slight trepidation that Graz wondered if the other researcher would know what his declared specialty was. It was a bit of an embarrassment to his superiors, but he knew what he wanted to do. He reached into his bag reassuringly to make sure his camera was still there and intact. He was prepared.