[System]
Age: 16

Gender: Female

Appearance: Is... something the matter?

Arcana: II Priestess

Personality: Kotori is, by any standard, a quiet girl. She rarely speaks if not spoken to directly - and even when she does, she only does so in a soft voice. She isn't one to put herself forward and, in fact, actually prefers to keep her distance from others, making her a rather timid person. She is, however, rather diligent; always doing her utmost at any given task. Given her weak constitution, she dislikes most physical activities and, in fact, often sits out during P.E. She also seems quite conscious of people's eyes on her and quickly feels uncomfortable when that is the case.

Given these traits, Kotori is not exactly the most sociable person - though that doesn't really seem to bother her. Most of her free time she spends studying or helping her mother around the family flowerstore in the Warakuma Shopping District.

Equipment/Skills:
Weapon - Japanese Umbrella: A bamboo-and-paper umbrella.
Armour - School Uniform: The standard female Warakuma Highschool Uniform.
Accessory - Small Locket: A small heart-shaped pendant worn around the neck; kept in a pocket while at school.
Skills - Does well in her studies. Knows a large number of flowers by name. Quite capable at Flower Arrangement. Is strongly near-sighted. Low stamina.

Background: Kotori is the only child of the Shirohane familiy, who have lived in Warakuma for generations and are known for their flower shop in the Warakuma Shopping District - the shop is on the ground floor while the family home is on the floor above. Unfortunately, Kotori's father - a kind man who was never seen without a smile on his face - passed away in a car accident three years ago, leaving her mother to look after both the store and the child. Fortunately, Kotori was by no means a troublemaker - though after her father's death, she did become a lot more quiet and reserved. Though saddened by her husband's passing, Kotori's mother remains a cheerful person at heart and does her best to keep both the store going and watch over her daughter.

Apart from these things, Kotori's childhood had few other noteable events. She hasn't joined any clubs at Warakuma Highschool or actually made any real friends due to her nature, never being one to draw much attention. Furthermore, she isn't much of an athlete; quickly getting out of breath and has sat out during P.E. a number of times due to this already - though she doesn't feel all too bothered by this.

Persona: Kikuri-Hime

Appearance: Kikuri-Hime

Abilities:
Dia - Light Single-Target HP Recovery
Patra - Cure Single-Target Fear/Rage/Confusion ailment
Zio - Light Single-Target Electricity Damage
Strong against Electricity
Weak against Physical

[User]
Super Magical Runway F1 > F2
28/6/2015 Sunday
@i-am-x@sen

Rui waited for the right moment, for the mannequins to line up perfectly. His Persona's Gale Slash would not be able to catch all of them, unless they were close enough, it's reach wasn't unlimited after all. Everyone kept a keen watch, and then in one final moment, he summoned his Persona, which only appeared for a mere second before the area around the party was swept up in a whirlwind of slashes. The mannequins now stopped in their tracks were blasted away by Matt's powerful fire Persona Kresnik with the spell Maragion, and after that, it was just cleanup. This little battle was not particularly difficult... But it could have been a lot more troublesome had they not had area of effect spells. They were just lucky they were properly equipped for this.

Beyond this room was a set of stairs, it seemed to lead up. This was the only way forward, so they took it.

The second floor was rather... Strange. It was darker, and the design looked more like a regular house, but it was of course suspiciously spacious, like these dungeons usually were. At the very end was a giant door, or rather, TV. What the party was looking at could only be described as a Let's Play of a dating sim game, but after awhile there were pointers that made it clear that the main character was a girl, as if the male subjects weren't a give-away that is. This area of the dungeon was a bit easier on the eyes, but eventually the progression on screen stopped, and the screen did turned perspective, now the party was looking through the boy's point of view, and there was a set of choices...

> Embrace her
> Kiss her
> Reject her

Anyone here could rush to make a choice themselves, but... It's probably likely this was a little meaningless. Then again the area they were in had the feeling of playing a game in a dark bedroom... This probably had more meaning for the one they were rescuing than anyone else here. So what to pick? Or maybe he should just bust the screen...

---

Moritomi Home for the Disturbed F1
28/6/2015 Sunday
@floodtalon

It was a somewhat unsettling rest for everyone... Ryan tried to examine the TV, there was a remote, but the channels all were the same. Nothing. Just static and more static, and even more static. Tadao was examining the beds... Or rather, doing up the only unruffled bed, and found a picture. Unlike the others though, this one wasn't blotted out, but as he examined it for a few moments, he thought he saw a shadow flicker in the corner of the picture, startled, he dropped it.

The static on the TV that Ryan was looking at began to show a featureless face, black, with two round blank eyes, and a crescent curved smile, he wanted to look away, this was a pretty terrifying experience, but he couldn't. The longer he looked, the more that face began to become clear, the lines became savage, the flickering became faster, and within moments the TV burst, it's screen shattered. Everyone turned to the now destroyed TV, and inside it there was another picture... It was similar to the ones that were plastered everywhere, all faces blotted out except one, but this one had two that were not blotted out. Upon closer inspection, the eldest child in the picture had a noose around his neck.

Although what was most interesting was on the back, there was a name, "Haku"... This dungeon felt more like an unravelling of a mystery than well, a dungeon... Nothing seemed to be out to attack them, no shadows, nothing. It was like they walked into a horror game of sorts. Still, the name might be a key of sorts, and perhaps related to the difference in picture on the front. Maybe there was a way forward in this room... It was like this room was giving them a way to identify the people in the pictures.

One of these three @haru nyan@diabolicalrhapsody@takaru should post.

[Assistant]
Kotori Shirohane - Hall of the Slain: Floor 1 | Sunday

Though the group came across some sporadic groups of shadows - looking like medieval warriors from Europe, but decrepit and rotten. That didn't do much to diminish their strength though - but as they only came in small numbers, the party could easily press on. However, these few shadows they were facing couldn't possibly be all, Kotori worried. After all, Ayano had mentioned they were surrounded - she couldn't help but keep glancing around nervously, unsure if that flicker was yet another shadow or just a figment of her imagination.

Still, at least they hadn't come across anything too strong yet; the occasional scrape being easily healed and the resistance they did meet being quickly pushed aside. As such, they were progressing evenly through the ruins - which, as they pressed on, were becoming ever more dilapidated. Where the first door had been a grand stone affair, the next one they passed was made of rotting wood. The hallway they passed was missing stones and piles of worn-away rubble was strewn about their path. Occasionally, another few shadows might show themselves, but once again the combined offensive power quickly put them down. At one point, they came past a dining hall; its wooden table showing signs of rot whilst the once-fine silver which was laid out had taken on a dark brown tint.

The entire place seemed to have been ravaged by decades or perhaps even centuries of time - and together with the still-unseen host of shadows surrounding them, gave of a rather unnerving feeling which left Kotori glancing about ever more warily. Stepping into a hall - Kotori wasn't quite sure what to make of the layout of this place, though they'd mostly pressed on straight forwards - Ayano once again reminded them of the presence of the shadows around them. But try as they might, they couldn't make any of them out - unless the occasional flicker or hint of movement was actually real and not just her nerves getting to her.

[User]
Ayano Wakahisa: Hall of the Slain
28/6/2015, Sunday

Seeing them move in her screen send a chill down Ayano's spine. She's played horror games alone before and had thought beforehand that she was used to such sights, but when it's happening in real-time, the terror escalates to a new height. Trying to steel herself, the girl turned her attention to the center screen, the one that displayed Kami's group and their surroundings. From the looks of her video feed, the dungeon seemed to look like an actual dungeon, similar to the ones used in times long forgotten, although something about the design of the place just seemed to fit a dystopian RPG-type of setting. The occasional shadows took on the forms of your typical undead, honestly it looked like they belonged to a session of DnD, if DnD involved teenagers travelling to the inner psyche of one's mind and battle the horrific truth of one's self that is.

Only when the Norse-looking shadow knights appeared did Ayano connect the dots about the dungeon's name...The place they were traversing to was Valhalla, or rather, a much more macabre and abandoned depiction of it. When games usually visualize Valhalla, they tend to put more...life and joy into it. Sure, dead guys having the time of their lives drinking and eating doesn't really evoke the brightest of imagery but it certainly would be a step up than whatever they were travelling to. The connection became much more apparent when the group had passed through a large dining hall, but it was just as abandoned as much as the rest of the dungeon was. You would think Odin would have better upkeep. Eventually they reached some sort of hall, and immediately the sensors in Ayano's left monitor began to blink. She turned her head back to the blinking monitor and saw that the shadows from before had surrounded the group. Hastily grabbing onto her headset, the brunette held her mic and issued her words of warning to the party. The situation they were in didn't look good, how does one fight that which he cannot see?

[Assistant]
Hall of the Slain F1
28/6/2015 Sunday
nyan@diabolicalrhapsody@takaru

"Surrounded...? But I don't see anyth-", Kami's senses flared and screamed out to him, a familiar sensation, it was the instinct to sense danger. Immediately Kami raised his weapon, he expected nothing to hit it, but there it was, a chipped, sharp blade, held by a bony assassin skeleton. The shadows in front of him unraveled, until finally it was seen in full. The party was already surrounded, as the rest jumped from their shadows and attacked the party. The first order of business, repel the attack.

He summoned forth Zeus and surrounded the party in a Mazio. It didn't seem to do any significant damage, but it kept them from attacking for the moment... Five...? No, six... Seven of them? Before anyone in the party could retaliate, the shadowy assassin skeletons jumped back and disappeared, only their red eyes remained, and in moments even those were gone...

"Ayano, let me know when they approach. We'll intercept them", he requested.

On Ayano's screen the shadows were moving impressively fast... Although she got another reading. It had the same signature as the party members, but she looked around, and no one seems to have run off into the dungeon... So who was it? Still, the battle ahead was what mattered most. She can see the shadows movements, though they were quick, all she had to do was say when one was approaching.

[User]
Kotori Shirohane - Hall of the Slain: Floor 1 | Sunday

Followed and surrounded by foes unseen, Ayano suddenly cried a warning - leading to most of the group to tense up in anticipation for an immediate attack. However, nothing could be seen or heard in the murky shadows around them - but just as tension started to make way for confusion, with Kaminari being the first to voice his, a nigh-inaudible sound much like wind seemed to fill the air. It cut Kaminari off mid-word as he raised his weapon in alarm - just a moment before the blade, having cut through the air, impacted on it. The shadows peeled back, if only for a brief time, to reveal a skeletal figure to be holding the blade; glowing red eyes fixed on the third year.

Kotori, meanwhile, was rapidly glancing about in fear of another such sudden attack - and, worse yet, what might happen if the next strike wasn't parried just in time. Kaminari, however, was quick to act and summoned Zeus to cast a wide arc of crackling electricity all around them - some of the skeletons seemed to have been about to charge but were quickly discouraged by the unexpected counter-attack. None of them seemed to have taken very much damage - but at least the party wasn't under immediate attack for a moment; enough time to regain their bearings and prepare to meet any incoming attacks with Ayano's warnings.

Without any spells to directly aid her companions' fighting abilities or area-wide attacks, there was little Kotori could do beside wait for the inevitable attacks; though at least she'd be able to heal any wounds sustained or add some damage to any appearing skeletons. She nervously glanced about at any movement, any hint of those unnatural red glowing eyes or a hint of sound - but the only things she heard beside her quick breaths was, oddly enough, something akin to faraway wind; leaving her and the others to rely on Ayano's forewarning and their reflexes as they peered into the surrounding dark shadows that hid their foes.


[System]
Gender: Female
Age: 30
Race: Miqo'te, Keeper of the Moon
Birthplace: Central Shroud
Marital Status: Bonded with Rhaq'a Zhwan
Height: 5 fulms, 5 ilms
Class: Conjurer

**Personality**
Rhy is very outgoing, enjoying the company of others most of the time. She exudes cheerfulness, friendliness, and is a habitual flirt with most anyone she meets. Although very social, she does enjoy her alone downtime, mostly spent in the company of the massive pile of books in her home. Rhy is generally very easy-going, and very open to new experiences. She is a fiercely loyal friend; get in her world and you have a friend for life that will go out of her way to make you happy. Conversely, she tends to give an intense cold shoulder to those that get on her bad side, holding grudges just a little too long. By default, she tends to trust new people. While she seems to have a fairly large circle of friends and acquaintances, very few are in her inner circle that she trusts implicitly. These include her direct family and her bonded mate.

Description
Rhy is tall for a Miqo'te female, with a decent amount of curvature on her form. Her reddish-brown hair frames her rounded face, most of the time pulled behind her head in a quick, sloppy braid. A pair of glasses are ever-present before her bright blue eyes, as she ruined her eyesight at a young age by reading by candlelight for years at night; as a result, she is nearly blind without them. Her face has minimal markings, save for a noticeable scar on her left cheek from a childhood accident. She is likely found wherever there is gil to be made using the healing arts, or at her home buried in a book.

Background
Raised with her extended family in the Central Shroud, Rhy was raised by her mother, aunts, and grandmothers. At the onset of puberty, she began working towards a goal while making herself available to the breeders that occasionally came to visit her home. She chose the life of a conjurer, learning the basics of healing in nearby Gridania. She gave birth to her first child. Hari, at 19. After suffering a miscarriage at 22, she decided that she wanted something more from life than children and basic healing.
She found herself in Ul'dah, where she learned the healing powers of herb and medicine along with conjuring. She learned much about how to use the natural world to heal ills and hurts. She set herself to bringing this knowledge to where it could do the most good; war-ravaged towns and villages. She spent several years traveling, always returning home for several months at a time. It was at one of these visits that a visiting breeder from the Zhwan clan caught her eye. Rhaq'a Zhwan interested her more than anyone she had ever met, and she pursued him. She eventually convinced him to bond with her.
Now 30, Rhy spends her time traveling to where she is most needed, and spreading her knowledge of natural healing arts. She also feels her biological clock ticking, and has been after her bonded mate for children. She is currently with her second child, her first with Rhaq'a.

[User]
Rhy tapped her chin with her fist thoughtfully, pondering the question. To give herself time, she took another sip. "Well… Aside from a steady supply of medicine for several towns along the frontlines with Garlemald, something fun. Maybe something that we could enjoy together; I've been looking all over for activities that we could do as a couple."

She picked up her mug once more, her ice-blue eyes staring at him over the rim, thoughts swirling behind them. Rhaq'a's own ideas were merely the tip of the iceberg.

[Assistant]
Her response wasn't out of the blue, but still somewhat confusing. "Something to do together...?" He wasn't sure they sold anything like that. "Do you speak of some manner of boardgame? I heard Doman Majong is quite popular, and I'm certain they would have a set?"

He continued to drink for a minute or so before finishing, placing his cup down with a smile.

[User]
Rhy choked on her tea, sputtering for a moment, her hands waving around in front of her face as she choked, then burst out laughing. When she regained control of herself, she got up, walked over to Rhaq'a, and wrapped her arms around him. Resting her chin on his head, she shook her head, "You sweet summer child."

After petting him for a few moments, she returned to her seat, wiping up some of the spit-out tea from the table. "I'm certain that we will find something to enjoy." She smirked, her own tea finished. She waggled her brows in the direction of the shop, "Shall we then?"

[Assistant]
Her laugh made his heart sink, as did her words. If she were not pregnant, he would have fled, and fast. Instead he gulped. "E-Er... ah. Are you... certain you do not wish to learn mahjong? We could learn together..."

Gulping, he stood slowly. "Sure...?"

[User]
Taking his hand in her own, she started leading him towards the trading post. She chuckled, "Perhaps we can start off with mahjong." As they drew nearer to the post, she gave his hand a squeeze.

She looked around at the building. The closer they got, the more closed it looked. Her face fell slightly. She walked through the yard, looking at the scattered junk everywhere. "Goodness, they do seem to have a little bit of everything here, don't they?" She looked back at Rhaq'a, smiling sweetly.

[Assistant]
A sigh of relief escaped his lips upon seeing the store was closed. He knew she'd want to come back, but he escaped, or rather delayed his fate for at least a day. "So it would seem..."

The junk they had was certainly interesting, and it was likely they had what he needed, too. "We could come back at a later time?"

[User]
Setting down the box she had been fondling, she nodded, "Perhaps tomorrow it will be open. We will definitely be back!" She turned her gaze to her mate, "For now, though, perhaps back to the inn? I'd like to lie down for a spell before our reservation." She winked, "I need to be in tip-top shape, after all."

She strode back to him, patting his cheek gently. She then took his hand, intertwined their fingers, and shot him a smile.

[Assistant]
Of course they'd be back. A small smile crossed his lips, "Y-Yes, of course." Slightly concerned he tried his best to ignore the situation. It was probably for the best, unfortunately. Looking up at his mate, he smiled, "Yes, you need rest. As do I..." The stress of whatever she was planning was getting to him, "R-Right, reservation..." And back to being terrified.

Smiling back at her, he took her hand happily. Though the pat on his cheek only indicated that his suspicions were correct.

[User]
Making a mental note of the location of the traders, she happily guided her mate back towards the docks. She paused at the entrance, frowning slightly at the boat bobbing gently in the water. Oh dear, this again… she thought to herself as she watched the waves lap at its hull. She bit her lip, stepping carefully down the steps towards the ferry.

Settling into a seat next to Rhaq'a, she leaned her head over onto its spot on his shoulder, sighing contentedly. She wrapped an arm around his, hugging it lightly against her chest. She'd love to look up to see if he was blushing or uncomfortable with the public affection, but that would involve opening her eyes. She smiled, just assuming that he was flustered.

[Assistant] He was nearly always flustered. So her guess was accurate, at least this time. Holding her close, he spoke softly. Mostly hoping no one would hear. "How are you feeling?" Gently petting her hair, he did his best not to mess up her braid, then moving his fingers to her ears. He gently scratched behind them. "We don't have to make the reservation if you're not feeling well..." Biting his lip, he secretly hoped that perhaps she'd be more in the mood to sleep or cuddle than.... whatever it was she had planned for the evening.

[User]
A gentle groan met his question as she nuzzled the crook of his neck, enjoying the pets. "Mmmmm… Only a little queasy…" She cooed once more, nuzzling deeper, trying to ignore the gentle swaying of the ferry. She gave his arm a squeeze, "Oh no, we'll make it… I promise, it's very relaxing. Or, well, it can be~"

A small smile spread on her lips as she imagined their evening. She was definitely looking forward to it; it always made her feel better after a long day. And doubly so when she could drag Rhaq'a along into her fun times.

[Assistant]
"Well.. a little is better than a lot I suppose." He smiled, half-heartedly. "R-Relaxing..." He tensed once more. "Can be...? W-What are you ..." He sulked. Well, he tried to get out of it. And failed, miserably. The only other choice was to try to get her to forget.

"If it'll make you happy, but... if you wouldn't mind..." He frowned, "...being conservative. I... it would be appreciated." Gently kissing her head, he scratched her ears some more before sighing.

[User]
Her smile spread, hearing his voice; she was getting to him. Excellent! "Of course, dearest, whatever you like." She yawned, giving his arm another squeeze, "I do promise that even you will find it enjoyable and relaxing. I'm not cruel, after all."

She gave a few groans as her long ears were scratched, enjoying the attention. Trying her best not to nod off, she snuggled comfortably into Rhaq'a, love oozing from her.

[Assistant]
He wasn't sure about either comment--be it the enjoyment or the cruelty. She was not cruel, no, but their ideas of a good time differed significantly. He sulked ears flattening against his head. "N-No, I suppose you aren't."

Unlike her, he was actively trying to put her to sleep. Snuggling her close, he continued to do what he knew made her purr. The only thing he'd have to do now is talk about alchemical properties, and she would be out, for sure...

[User]
Rhaq'a might not even need to get as far as his latest tome on alchemics; Rhy was slowly losing her fight to stay awake. Between the gentle petting, water lapping sounds, and her own overall exhaustion, she was finding it harder… And harder…

She continued to snuggle her mate, although with her mouth slightly open now, occasional light snores coming from her. He'd gotten his wish. An occasional smile twitched at her lips, or she'd give his arm a squeeze as she dreamed.

[Assistant]
Closing his eyes, he relaxed as his mate fell asleep, holding her as they made the journey back to Kugane...

Once there, he attempted to pick her up. Perhaps if he didn't rouse her, they'd accidentally miss their reservation.... he could only home.

[User]
For her part, Rhy was dozing happily, dreaming sweet dreams. Fortunately for her, Rhaq'a was quite gentle when it came to carrying her. Years fo practice had helped him know just where to hold her to not wake her up.

Unfortunately for him, her internal clock worked quite well and roused her anyway as they neared the inn they were staying at. As they drew near, she continued to pretend to be asleep, nuzzling into his shoulder as Rhaq'a princess carried her into their room.

[Assistant]
Gently setting his love down upon the inn's bed, he began to take off his clothing, move to grab some more comfortable smallclothes. He hoped to simply sleep, and forget about whatever she had planned. It was sinister, and he knew it.

He was a bit peckish, but starving for an evening was still a preferable alternative. A soft sigh escaped his lips as he pulled the blankets back and over himself and Rhy...

[User]
…only to have Rhy roll over and wrap her arms around him. She had been eagerly watching as he stripped, a smile forming on her lips. She clamped her eyes back shut when he came closer, going back to 'sleeping'. Once the blanket came over them, she sprang to life. She'd found it best to catch him unawares; it gave him less of a chance to escape or make up an excuse to leave.

As she held him in place, she kissed up his neck and head to his ear, whispering, "Good thing I woke up. Wouldn't want to miss our appointment." Patting his leg, she continued, "You'll need your bathing suit, by the by. Don't forget it. Or do. Either way works for me~" She blew gently on his ear for a moment, giving it a small peck before rolling out of the bed, rummaging through a drawer in the dresser for her own swimsuit.

[Assistant]
Flushing, he felt his heart sink into his stomach as a distinct feeling of dread and existential crisis took hold. Curling into the fetal position he let out a groan, laying there, before leaving the bed. "...It would appear you win, this time." Sulking, he moved to find his swim suit. When she got like this, she wouldn't take no for an answer...

"Whatever it is you're planning, don't think I'll cooperate so easily." He sighed. He probably would. And that was the problem. With the bathing suit on, he pulled a small wrap around it, trying to at least conserve some small amount of dignity.

[User]
Tossing her top onto the bed and continuing to look for the bottoms, she clucked her tongue, "I often do, dearest." Failing to find her bottoms, she sighed, standing and stripping. Putting on and adjusting her top, she frowned slightly. Turning to Rhaq'a, she cupped her chest, "I suppose it's about that time, but I may need to get a new top soon. This one's awfully snug. See?" She teased him, bending over while smiling. "Also, I can't find my bottom. Bring me a towel, would you dearest? I suppose that will have to do."

Towel firmly secured, she linked her arm with Rhaq'a's, steering him towards the door, "I've heard wonderful things about the hot springs here; I may have reserved a special romantic corner of the springs just for us~" Her flip flops flapped on the floorboards as they walked down the hall towards the springs, her face beaming.


[System]
Race: Human (probably)
Gender: Female
Age: 23 (maybe)
Occupation: Grown-Up Delinquent

Personality/Interests: Kat's always been someone with… flexible morals. She knows how to manipulate and work a situation to her advantage, but lately she's been favoring the straight-forward method of negotiations – that is, outright threats of violence. Though very clever and resourceful, she's never had an official education and tends to ignore other perspectives if they don't suit her interests. Kat is more solitary than social, and tends to keep to herself, finding entertainment in whatever's available to her. She's sarcastic, and can typically be seen sporting a small, crooked grin coupled with a raised eyebrow as she judges the hell out of everyone around her. Over the years, Kat's gotten very good at annoying everyone around her, essentially killing any chance of personal relationships. This sits just fine with her.

Appearance: Short and lithe, Kat's not the most… intimidating figure. What she lacks in size though, she makes up in her striking appearance. With skin as dark as the night sky, silver eyes, and straight white hair cropped in a short, fluffy style, Kat attracts attention wherever she goes. Even more noteworthy than her coloring though, is the fact that she lacks a right arm. In its place is a scarred patch of flesh, cut right where the shoulder meets her torso. Kat has a tendency to simply chop the right sleeves off of her tops to get rid of the excess fabric, though she always wraps her torso in plain white bandages, so as not to let others see her scar. She has a litany of other, smaller scars littering her body.

Details
Body build: Little
Hair: Short, messy
Hair color: White
Skin color: Dark brown
Eye/Iris color: Silver
Height/Weight: 5', 96 lb (152 cm, 43 kg)
Notable Features: Missing right arm, scarring where the shoulder ends

Clothing Description: She wears soft leather boots, brown pants and a green tunic. White bandages can be seen underneath, covering the majority of her torso, especially her mangled shoulder. Kat also has a necklace with a thin silver chain, and an arrow charm on it, far more expensive than the rest of her outfit combined – it's the one thing she refuses to part with, even if it would get her hot meals and a roof over her head for three months.

Hel: Hel is, quite simply, a snow leopard big enough for Kat to ride around – which she does, often. He seems to be tremendously attached to her, and it's not always clear if he answers to her, or the other way around. Nonetheless, he is unfailingly loyal to her, and quick to bear his fangs at anything he considers a threat. While Kat loves Hel, she's worried she's become too dependent on both his protection and emotional support. So far, life's done a fine job of teaching Kat that things she love tend to get taken away from her. She fears that when the day comes that Hel will no longer be at her side, she'll be both too weak and too broken to face whatever comes for her next.

Equipment: Water flask, tinder box, rope, spare clothes, various bandages and herbs for healing purposes, an old warm jacket, extra little glass bottles for anything she finds that she might want to take with her, an ocarina that she can no longer play

Weapon(s): Keeps an array of knives and daggers on her at all times, used for either throwing or slashing. Other than that, Hel's really the only form of defense she needs.

Powers: Connection to Hel

Abilities: None that she knows of

Talents: Expert knowledge of archery, slight of hand, knife throwing, lying through her teeth, pretty decent tracker

Magic: N/A

Sessamaru: Annoyingly polite; difficult to rile; OK guy

Historia Saurvale: Twerp with wings; fun to mess with; nice bow, but doesn't know how to use it properly

Saha Thulaja Era: Do not drink with her; reminds me of Hel

Julio: Other twerp with wings; surprisingly pragmatic

Azzrix Grimmor: Gross furball; easy to mess with; please shut up

Margaret von Eisenberg: Can't decide if I like her or not; seems nice on the surface, but rubs me the wrong way

Naida Marcoon: Don't get along with; can't take a joke

Drubbins: Idiot; another easy target

Mysaren: Too sensitive for someone who robs graves for a living

Tahira Raske: Unsettling; Hel doesn't trust her

Rimau Ekoy-Rimau Eng-Dasku: Ugly, but good sense of humor; sometimes a little too dark

Claire Alexandria: Twerp without wings; can't take a joke

Viggo Malmsteen: Very close to letting Hel eat him

Rouen Fulgur: Go away; too irritating to even snark at

Felan the Wolf: Giant furball; Hel seems cool with him; OK guy

[User]
Kat blinked when the priest's words finally trickled in through her 'annoying shit I don't need to hear' filter.

"However, it is being guarded by Drakas, Remnants from the continent of Shoba."

She very nearly slammed the paper back onto the board then and there. Remnants… After what happened last time, Kat'd done all she could to avoid them. Memories surfaced through a fog: a Remant's shriek, pain like fire igniting her blood, a snow leopard's yowl… she felt her breath catch in her throat at the idea of facing one again. She felt like a child, letting herself be paralyzed so, but she couldn't bring herself back from her reaction. Hel watched her with a heavy gaze, sensing her unrest.

A new voice cut through the air, jolting her out of her thoughts. It was the witch, Tahira, asking to come along on the quest Kat'd just claimed. She was half tempted to just shove the paper at the other woman and tell her to do it on her own, but she hesitated. Kat eyed her, and looked back at Hel. The great cat's tail swayed easily behind him, back and forth, measuring the seconds.

Kat remembered the silver coin the knight had given her, and how he'd reassured her she could live a fulfilling life in spite of her 'impairment.' She remembered how easily Hel had killed the boar they'd spent the night hunting, carrying it on his back all the way to the tavern, never slowing or tiring, or needing any help at all. She remembered the memories she'd long trained herself to not think on, and the feeling of helplessness that came with them. It was a feeling that had once been alien to her.

Kat's gaze focused then, and she turned back to Tahira.

"Come along if you want," she replied, her voice bored and uncaring as ever. "Guess you're a better pick than most of these other idiots." The witch was… unsettling, but she had yet to do anything to annoy Kat. Hel didn't trust her, but that didn't say much. Hel rarely trusted anyone. Besides, she was almost as big a mystery to Kat as Bernard was, and she'd be lying if she said she wasn't the least bit curious. That's what Kat thought, at least, when she asked herself why now of all times she accepted the idea of another companion on a job.

[Assistant]
Historia watched as not only Mr. Grimmor left the group, but also Miss Mysaren followed suit as well, both of them going over to look for jobs at the board. "Uh, bye?" She called out to them before sitting back in her seat, continuing sipping on the drink Bernard was kind enough to give to her. She watched as the two found jobs and partners for themselves (or in Mr. Grimmor's case, rushing out the door to find his partners). Historia began to wonder if there would be that many jobs left as she watched people still look at all the jobs at the boards. Well, all the well paying jobs would most likely be taken, the ones that had higher difficulty. Historia didn't usually take those jobs, mainly cause she wasn't a very strong fighter. She preferred easier, albeit less paying most of the time, jobs.

Historia looked at Miss Claire when she spoke up, asking about looking at the board. "Yes, I was going to take a look at the board anyways. It'd be nice to see what you might want to do as well." Historia told her with a smile as she got up and walked over with her to the board. There was only three jobs that really interested Histoira. A missing memory book that could be anywhere in the city, a quest to find a teenage thief, and a quest to find a lost dog. The dog one would most likely be the easiest to do for Historia as she could just fly above the city and look for it that way. But Miss Claire couldn't fly so that one was out of the question. AS for the one with the thief, Historia didn't really want to get involved with a quest that had a really good chance of confronting someone that might fight back. So for now, that also wasn't a good option. That left the memory book. That was something that she and Claire could do rather easily, and the quest giver was a nobleman so they might get paid decently after all.

"Does this sound good to you?" Historia asked Miss Claire as she handed her the paper to look at.

[User]
"Come along if you want," she replied, her voice bored and uncaring as ever. "Guess you're a better pick than most of these other idiots."

Kat was clearly on edge. Tahira was not an expert on interpreting body language, but the leopard was eyeing her master uneasily and, considering how close the two were, that was the only cue she needed to sense the woman's discomfort. However, she had long ago learned when it was best to stifle her curiosity. As long as it did not interfere with their mission, the diminutive woman's issues were none of her concern. Cocking her head to the side, she recalled something that might be of use to the two of them.

"I believe the library holds a tome which refers to these 'Drakas' at some length," Tahira said. "You can make ready to depart while I retrieve it."

Turning her back on the duo, she moved away from the job board and went through the door to the library. Her fingers traced a path along the spine of several books as she moved up and down the shelves, seeking the one she had mentioned. [i]Ah, there[i]. Her hand touched the well-worn bindings of a tome which was simply entitled On Shoba, and penned by an unknown scholar on the subject. She had yet to read it, but its inclusion in the tavern's surprisingly extensive library lent something to its credibility, so she removed it from the shelf, making a note of where it belonged. Leaving the library as quickly as she had entered, she ascended to the second floor to receive the leather satchel that hung from a hook in the wall of her room. Slipping the book into one of its pockets, she returned to the place she had left Kat, satisfied she was prepared.

[Assistant]
Kat stood where Tahira left her for a moment, staring after the woman as she made her way to the library. Stuffing any memories she had down, she thought on the witch. She was a fair sort, didn't talk down to either Kat or Hel, smart, probably useful if you had her on your side… but something about her made Kat want to always know where she was. It was probably just her stoicism and ethereal nature that peaked Kat's curiosity, but still.

She looked back to Hel, and said "Watch her, yeah?" This probably meant that any vindictive plans Kat had been concocting were off limits in regards to the jewel. She didn't know much about Tahira, but she struck her as someone respectful and dutiful. She'd probably frown on how Kat was not.

The two made their way to their room in the tavern and Kat scooped up her bag, tossing things in or out of it as she thought of what they might need. Once they were done, they walked back to the kitchen and grabbed some handfuls of dried meat ("We killed it, we can take it," she called back to a waitress glaring at them) and filled her water flask from the tap. After that, they made their way back to the area by the board, Tahira already waiting for them.

"You ready?" she asked.


[System]
Age: 400+
Race: Vampire
Faction: Darkworld

Appearance: A wiry whipcord of a man, with gaunt cheeks and high cheekbones. Perhaps most noticeable are the large saucers of blue-grey, like the sea after a storm, that gaze out from underneath thick, black, expressive eyebrows. Incredibly fine wrinkles and creases dance upon his face, by his lips, brow, and eyes. They make any guess at age difficult, but hint of haunting smiles, the ghosts of anger, and the resting place of sorrow. Unlike his dark brows and goatee, the straggled mop upon his head is straw, and reaches down at his shoulders with teasing stalks and locks.

Personality: A selfish, yet easy-going romantic searching for a muse to displace his growing existential and epistemological nihilism.

Background:
Tracing "Dylan" back through history would be a feat deserving of its own epic. Changing names and appearances frequently, you would only chase the shadows of rumours.

Life whilst he was human has been long since forgotten, not least by himself.

After came an indulgent parade of hedonism spanning centuries. Often the centre of attention and the recipient of many a lustful gaze everywhere between the courts of Europe to the dingiest of waterfront inns, there was no social circle he did not permeate, no sin he did not partake, and no vulgarity he spared himself.

Eventually this flaming desire guttered, and the pursuit of the sweet secrets of pleasure became vapid, and all of Europe lost a marvellous centrepiece, though many knew him by different names, and, as is the way with such frivolous folk who exist on the fine edge of fashion, they fast forgot him.

During the following years he was rarely seen by anybody, his religious journey towards enlightenment often requiring the walking of paths of solitude. The soul searching seemed to be in vain though, and he did not feel any closer to what he was searching for than when he started. After almost a century of pilgrimage and learning, he turned to the arts, trying to find meaning in poetry.

That is when an old friend contacted him, a friend he owed a favour. It was requested he fight in a war, and not just a human war, a war between DarkWorlders. The very idea struck a bolt deep inside, and Dylan found that he was eager to oblige this request, wanting to use this sombre and destructive event as inspiration for his creative mind.

Skills/Equipment: Nothing beyond what might be expected of a normal Darkworld fighter.

[User]
Dylan Stroud

An explosive buzz tempered the hum of conversation, and demanded Dylan look up from his work, the world materialising around him anew as his eyes left the page. The thrumming electric lights, the stone floor, the aged armchair in which he found his form sprawled upon its beaten upholstery. Dylan stretched. There was something feline about his movements. When he yawned, the sharp incisors added to that parallel, and his eyes were half-closed and slow to blink.

There seemed to be much excitement. He pocketed his tiny notebook.

Attacks by the rebels, no matter how frequent, always seemed to revitalise the young and foolish, filling their heads with such notions of glory. More often than not they found their tale concluding. Many of them left hurriedly, on the hopes they could get to the infraction before the fighting ended.

Boots clapped the floor as Dylan made his way over to who might have been the most stoic man in the room.

"Lancelot, darling, do not drink yourself into a stupor," He said, gently resting his hand on the man's shoulder, "Events may unfurl tonight that require your attention, and I will be otherwise occupied." And with that he breezed of, seeming to walk with infinite grace and purpose. It was almost ruined by his frayed jeans and baggy, grey-wool jumper.

The stars were absent from the sky that night. Brooding clouds smeared the heavens, and hid its gems from view. A chill wind bit through Dylan's clothes, but encouraged no shiver. Stalking from shadow to steeple, he made his way through the city via rooftop and alleyway, hidden, if not for the tiny embers and trails of smoke from his cigarette.

There was distant popping and thunderous crashes that rang through the hollow city, emanating from the city's northern region.

Perhaps this is why his feet took him that direction. Before he got too close, though, he changed direction, winding his way towards the centre of the city as he listened to the twin melodies of death and triumph.

Making his way into the rebel section was simple enough with an access key. Some here knew him as an informant, a double-agent, others as a friend. Most didn't know him at all.

It was not long walking before "The Ancient Cavern", an establishment from which music and conversation bled, invited Dylan inside. He stomped out his cigarette. Inside was musty, but comforting. An old jukebox sang crackling records from the corner, forming a counterpoint with the gossiping huddles of fervent whispers. Those of the patrons that were not in huddled groups were staring deep into their drinks, except for a young lady with startling orange hair. Instantly, he was drawn to her like a moth to a flame. Those which did not blend in with the crowd usually had the most interesting stories.

Approaching from behind, he could smell her: sweat and coffee underneath honeysuckle soap.

"I do not believe I have had the pleasure of making your acquaintance," he said, stepping up beside her, and, with a sidelong glance, "Might I buy us a drink?"

[Assistant]
-Zeiss Calavan-

Zeiss had been soaking in the atmosphere of the bar; it felt very homely, with the warm air caused by the bodies within and the low but vibrant energy that surrounded its patrons. The jukebox gave it a rustic that made the atmosphere that much more comforting; a nice change of pace from the EDM night clubs she came across around the center of the Rebel Section.

She heard a man addresssing someone, and turned to find to find he was addressing her. The man reminded her of licorice; his straw-like black hair, the creases across his sharp cheekbones, his lanky but firm silhouette, and the way his lips pursed into a fang.

It's been a while since I've tango'd with a vampire, she thought while giving the man a warm smile.

"I'll have a Matador cocktail," she said, turning curtly in her stool to face the bar side to catch the tender's attention, "So tell me, what brings a devilish man like yourself to my side this evening?"

[User]
Dylan Stroud

"Why of course," Dylan purred, saddling a stool next to her. He tapped a slender finger upon the bar and met the tender's gaze, "And a crimson rush for me, darling." Using the colloquial term for blood and well drink, one of the wonders he discovered in Meridian. The man nodded, and began preparing their drinks.

Then his attention was fully on the lady before him. Now he could see a brilliant streak of cobalt through her hair, an unnatural delight against her burning locks. She was an amalgam of self-assured fire and arcane mystery. Glistening teeth showed through his crooked grin.

"The stars have left me all alone, and the moon is a fickle lover," their drinks came, and Dylan nodded his thanks, barely turning from her, "I am here for company, much the same reason as anyone else, I would imagine. I search for singular souls amidst this surreptitious situation."

A new track came upon the jukebox, this one terribly scratched, causing a groan from a large part of the patrons. Dylan broke his intense stare and took a sip from his drink, the taste on a single malt whiskey and the coppery pang of blood not entirely unpleasant, but still caused him to purse his lips.

When he looked back at the woman, it was with furrowed brow, as if pondering a deep thought, chin resting upon clenched fist.

"'My hopes are dying, while on dreams relying, I am spelled by art'," He intoned, "Whole truth told: I am a poet, searching for his muse. However, lady luck must have smiled upon me, for I think that perhaps I have found her."

He straightened up, shaking his reverie, and split his face with a fanged grin, his eyes seeming to twinkle, "Just listen to me go on!" he gave a theatrical sigh and chuckled, his voice turned to treacle and chocolate, "Tell me, my dear, where do your interests lie?"

[Assistant]
-Zeiss Calavan-

Zeiss couldn't help but laugh at the man's words, her eyes shimmering with gold speckles from the lights above them; this vampire certainly was being quite the charmer. Perhaps in was in their nature to have such a demeanor. She was glad to find a man who would try to woo her, words were a very strong force indeed.

Her profession spoke volumes on that front.

Taking a sip of her drink, she allowed the warmth of the alcohol to ripple through her body. She shifted her shoulders and played with her hair a bit.

"Well, my dear sir, just as the stars dance brightly in the sky, I am also a shining pioneer. Someone who has begun to unravel an unknown magic, knowledge possibly only known by the Gods themselves. Allow me to indulge in myself for you; I like to show off my assets."

Taking a napkin from the table, she took out her pen and started writing. At her skill level, it only took a short second to write down the long inscription in a circle across the surface and evoke the words from within herself:

'er pao Runum Ansuz Eihwas Pethro Uruz spyrr Uruz Algiz opendi nam er Ehwaz Isa'

Her left shoulder glowed with a blue light and the rune below her thin jacket revealed itself as the magic ran through her arm into the thin paper. The napkin stopped its motion, unmoved by the air and the elements within the bar.

"And so here is my 'interest' in full display. Fun at parties. As long as I hold onto this, the material is unmoved by anything. Be it time, or-"

Taking a knife in her free hand, she shoved it with all her with all her might into the thin sheet of paper, and presented him with a bent piece of metal.

"Be it force."

[User]
Lancelot grunted at his fellow Vampire. He didn't feel like hanging around anymore. So he got up, stretched, and left. Before he had gotten too far. however, he heard someone say "Traitor," in a hushed voice. Lance stopped to listen in. "There's rumors of a traitor in our midst. Supplies going missing, information that shouldn't be known getting to the rebels. They shouldn't have known where we took their Lycan ally, yet suddenly, boom, they're attacking the border house. No other explanation." Lancelot sighed. Paranoia was rampant in camp. He paid it no mind as he left, heading to a house he had claimed not far from there.

It was smallish and simple in style. Going to the back, through the small kitchen, he went into his room. In it was a bed, dresser and closet. Curious he looked at the letter that was on his pillow. It had not been there when he left. He opened it and read it.

Lancelot,

I know how honorable you are. Come to the Warehouse by the docks at 11pm tomorrow night. Trust me.

Yours,

A friend.

Well. Looks like Lancelot had a plan for tomorrow night then.

[Assistant]
The playful smile dancing upon Dylan's face went slack at the spectacle. For the briefest of moments there was a frown upon his face, and his eyes might have narrowed. It happened so quickly, it may not have been there at all; now, once again, it was so perfectly composed and under control that the falter absolutely must have just been a trick of the mind, surely.

Quite deliberately, he ran fingers through the mop of hair. All his awe was genuine.

"My dear," Dylan began, his eyes flitting between napkin and woman, "You have indulged me too! Throughout my long years, I've never been quite so impressed by magic." Runes were unfamiliar to him, and he knew he would be unable to recall them from such a fleeting glance. "Can you use it on people? I may not need use handcuffs ever again." This came with a wry smile.

He raised a hand gingerly, as if the napkin might bite. With the same slender digit that he had rapped upon the bar, he pressed gently into the napkin. It felt like, almost disappointingly, a napkin - gauzy paper, almost furry with slight moisture - yet it did not budge. A little more force was applied. Still nothing. The finger withdrew.

After finishing his drink and gesturing for another, Dylan spent a moment reappraising the woman. It was plain for all to see she was unique, but to what extent, he was only beginning to realise.

The blue light on her skin was mesmerising, and he had caught himself reaching out to touch the glowing runes. The hand returned to his knee.

"Truly, there is a beauty in the craft of such magic I had heretofore feared," He locked eyes with her, "You are giving me second thoughts; a true pioneer indeed. I wonder what other secrets you are privy too," His toothy grin was back. With cat-like languor, he leaned upon the bar.

Slender hands made an elaborate gesture to the heavens. "But the Gods you say? I searched for mine many a year, and never found them," an eyebrow arched and a thin smile played at the edge of his lips, the blue lights still dancing in and enhancing his eyes, "I thought most magically inclined folk had forsaken gods, how comes you are so different, my muse?" He rested a finger on pursed lips as he awaited a response.


[System]
Male
Looks about 30
Appearance
6'0"
Pale white skin.
White irises. Edges around his eyes are naturally often dark. Giving him the appearance of having eyeliner.
Messy slightly below shoulder length wavy white hair. Long bangs that often get in his eyes. Two engraved cylindrical medium length silver hair beads, one on the right side of his hair and one on the back left.
Silver feather dangle earring on his left ear lobe.
Left hand's fingernails are pointed and sharp

Faux golden mink fur double breasted coat. Length goes down to his mid thigh. Brown horn buttons. Brown silk liner.
Black with white polka dots pattern wool fringed scarf worn draped around the back of his neck under his coat. Loosely tied into a knot low right below his chest.
Various loose fitting polo or aloha/bowling shirts.
Gold 22" 10mm cuban link chain necklace.
White ribbed tank top undershirt.
Gold Rolex Datejust 36mm with a white dial and jubilee bracelet.
Silver band thumb ring, silver pinkie finger signet ring with a X engraved on the front. Gold pointer finger ring with a inlaid diamond. All on his left hand
Plain black leather dress glove with a white X on the palm on his right hand.
Silver 12mm cuban link chain id tag style bracelet on his right wrist
Black dress pants.
Black leather western style belt with an silver buckle and furnishings. Usually has a black embossed leather revolver holster on the right side.
Black leather cowboy boots with snip toe caps and floral stitching. Pant legs worn over the boot shaft.
Or
Various Air Jordan 5 sneakers.
White crew socks.

Hair
A bit longer in the back

Nemo is often considered a Mana-fiend among other terms. Someone who can feed off of mana itself for energy. He has a innate control over mana and mastery with absorption focused spells. Being able to drain other Talent's mana reserves to refill his own. With more advanced spells Nemo can even harness the natural mana found in the world for himself in a pinch.
While most Talents are able to increase their maximum mana pool by training. Nemo sadly lacks this ability. But makes up for it by being able to permanently increase his pool by fully draining mana from living beings and certain objects. Fully draining a magic user can also sometimes give Nemo the ability to use some of their spells.
An added bonus of consuming mana is that it makes him immune to aging.

All of his mana must be put to some sort of worthy use, and Nemo does so by specializing in highly destructive spells and traps. Often using an "X" shape motif. He also utilizes summoning magic circle relay rings. When a magic projectile passes through them, it increases in speed and power. Relay rings can also be chained together like a railgun to devastating effect.

Nemo triggers most of his attacks from the X shaped rune on the palm of his glove.

At times Nemo also has a affinity for fine custom weaponry instead of spells. Utilizing rifles, knives, and his trademark revolvers with specialized ammo to conserve his mana.

Nemo is fond of the dark and the cold. He sees and reacts better in darker places with his white nocturnal-like eyes. However as a drawback he often becomes irritated and uncomfortable in bright or hot areas.

While his actual age is a mystery, it is said that at a young age Nemo was shunned by all of the leading magic organizations for his unpredictable abilities and attributes. Being an orphan, Nemo was left to fend for himself in the world. His abilities were the only thing he had at a young age, realizing that most people were afraid of his style of spells. Nemo found that resorting to force to get what he needed was usually the only option that worked.

As his control over his abilities grew he began to get more involved with the magic underground. Nemo began to take advantage of his anti-mana magic to make a name for himself as a effective assassin against other fellow magic users. He did this as a means to both further his own power and take revenge against the magic community for it's treatment of him.

As Nemo's notoriety grew, the magic factions that once rejected him began to take notice. However not in the way he once wanted. Nemo began to become a problem for them, something that reached a climax when he executed a pair of Catholic Magi while on a armored transport mission.

The Church had let him grow unchecked for too long. To solve the problem they set an ambush up for Nemo with a group of Grand-Magi and a entourage of his students. A fight occurred between the two, ending with Nemo's capture. But not before the group of mages suffered great causalities, including their leader.

After the encounter Nemo was locked up deep in a pitch black cell within a dungeon located under the Vatican. There he lies in wait, feeding off of the small amount of mana rationed to him and wondering how long it will take before he is set free.

Despite it all Nemo often comes off as a rather chipper carefree individual, something that is often seems sinister while fighting instead. Nemo is often unstable, his polite and charismatic outer attitude sheds to his more psychotic inner shell while angered.
Nemo has a fascination with all things visual. Taking great pride with his work and considering the battles he partakes in as art. Aiming to make them as aesthetically impressive as he can.
He's also a collector, coming off as borderline greedy in some cases. He'll try to obtain anything he finds visually appealing. Nemo becomes highly irritated when his possessions are sullied. Thankfully he can often repair them.
Going hand in hand with his knack for collecting, he also takes great joy in eating. Being able to consume a very large amount of food and eat just about anything.

5.5 inch single action revolver.
3.5 inch birds head handle single action revolver.
Bolt action hunting rifles.
Balisong knives

[User]
After the plasma spear ripped through the air and subsequently through everything that was in its path, Raiya let out a small puff of exasperation. She looked at the path of carnage in aw, which picked her mood up a little bit from the failures she had suffered throughout this mission as a whole. "If I had been half of a second too early or too late in pulling the trigger, the cartridge would have blown the gun to pieces and probably have taken my hand with it... It's a prototype to say the least, and it isn't exactly something I can use reliably in combat." Raiya explained, "I'm just surprised it worked at all. I had only ever tested it in precise mechanical conditions. This is the first time i have ever used that technique on the field. And probably the last time until I can work out an effective method of containing the magical energy in the cartridge."  Raiya continued, "Silver was the only metal so far that i have had relative success without the cartridge blowing up right away. But without access to mithril, or sacred silver I probably wont be making any leaps forward with this technique." " Raiya finished.

 "Well? Now do we head for the bridge and confront the captain?" Raiya asked as she bent down to pick up the spent cartridge from the plasma spear she just fired. Those cartridges were difficult for Raiya to make in large quantities so any that survived the actual firing process were invaluable.

[Assistant]
Nemo looked over to Raiya and leaned up against the railing of the tower, seemingly unafraid of causing it to tip over. He winced when she brought up losing her hand. "Oh Raiya, if you wanted to get your hands on fancy materials like that you should've said something earlier. Sacred silver, mythril, whatever unobtainanium you need, I'm your guy. But it'll come at a price." Nemo replied.

---

While the rest of the group would enjoy a small period of rest, things had been going south within the bridge.

"GODDAMN SWINE!" Seidon's voice boomed out before he smashed a sea blue mug filled with unknown liquid all over one of the control panels. It was unclear if he was referring to the intruders, or his own crew after their failure. But his temper had grown just as wild as the storm.

With Seidon were the two Church leaders, Father Stockton and Galvadon. They stood at each side and a little bit behind of the good captain, watching the wreckage. "You promised us safe passage Mr. Seidon." Spoke the elder Stockton. He had a slightly raspy eerily calm voice.

"Is that so? Well last time I checked you looked pretty damn spotless to me, your highness. Unlike my crew... and my ship! Which both are being destroyed to keep your prissy arses out of harms way!" Seidon spat back angrily.

"I suggest you watch your tongue Kapitan." The younger Galvadon stepped in.

"I suggest you spare me your empty threats, whipping boy. I'm not intimidated by you or that glorified soap in a sock you call a weapon." Seidon quickly shot back at him.

"I ought to have you flayed for that..." Galvadon replied at a quieter, more serious tone. He tried to hold back his anger and gripped his golden flail by it's handle tightly.

"Enough. Both of you." Stockton said. "The Captain is just feeling a bit heated from what's just transpired. I'm sure you can come to forgive him for that John." Based on Stockton's tone it came off more as a threat than a attempt to rebuild bridges between the two. Neither of them really wanted to push this further to see the consequences. "I suggest you take care of our little problem Mr. Seidon. Because if it continues to hinder our plan I'm going to reconsider your usefulness to the Arcanocracy."

After a few moments Seidon's angered attitude let up and he emitted a gruff chuckle. "After all the damage they've done to my operation, it would be my pleasure."

---

While it was hard to notice with the storm, streams of water began to magically flow out from the ship. Some coming from the bridge, some flowing from the hole Raiya opening up on the deck, some even up from the side of the ship. All of them began to pool together in an open area on the middle of the deck. The intensity of the streams began to increase until it was hard to miss even with the storm.

Nemo soon noticed the peculiarity. "I don't think that's going to be necessary, Raiya." He replied.

The streams soon formed into a gigantic mass of spinning water, akin to a whirlpool out of a body of water, before suddenly losing their form and dispersing out on top of the deck, leaving pools of water in it's wake, as well as Captain Seidon himself. He stood right in the middle of where the strange whirlpool once was. He seemed to be mostly unarmed, except for a decorated wooden cane.

[User]
Raiya only had the two magazines, the empty one she switched out, and the one she currently held in her pistol which contained 4 more of her special plasma lance rounds. Considering her luck was not going very good on this mission, and she had succeeded once with her statistically improbable technique, she was not willing to risk a second shot. So, Raiya dropped her pistol back into her mana inventory, it dissapeared with a pink crackle of her mana. She knew of people who were able to interact with their objects within their inventories and thus load a magazine in their inventory (Felix was one of these such people), but that required a deep level of a visualization technique that Raiya just did not possess.

 So, when the captain of the ship appeared in a torrent of magically controlled water, she switched out her pistols for a few throwing knives. She charged each throwing knife with a bit of electricity before throwing them with impressive speed at the newly manifested opponent. The captain was fairly far off from where the group currently stood, but Raiya was good enough with her accuracy, as well as having the advantage of gravity on her side that her knives would surely hit their mark. Streaking forth through the stormy air with a crackle of bright pinkish mana electricity.

[Assistant] Zuri still had her back on the same container she has been taking cover ever since the sniper took her first shot. She wasn't feeling well ever since the temporary transformation she did not long ago. Being half asleep with her butt on the floor and her back against the container, even though she didn't catch the first time Travis called for her through the manadial, she caught Travis' second attempt at getting her attention. She looks at the watch, gives it a tap and replies "I'm sorry for not replying earlier, what can I do to help?" she asks with a slightly worried tone because Travis sounded like he was abruptly cut off.

[User]
Seidon quickly noticed the knives, his gaze was already towards the sniper tower because of the loss of his sniper. However before the knives could reach him Seidon raised his right hand upwards, causing one of the puddles of water created during his entrance to change shape. It rapidly shot up like a wall to block the blades and trap them inside the water before collapsing back to the deck. As soon as the blades touched the water, the whole body of liquid was briefly magically electrified, something Seidon took note of.

The Captain let out a gruff snarl before raising both of his hands up this time and then moving his right arm towards the sniper tower in a push like gesture. Afterwards his quickly turned and did the same with his left towards Travis. He still hadn't spotted Zoey or Zuri.

Two of the pools raised from their placid state, one first going towards the sniper tower, and then other raging towards Travis in waves, roughly ten feet tall and wide. Should they connect directly, it wasn't an attack that could kill, but definitely break bone from the impact.

---

"Knives? Really?" Nemo said, looking to Raiya. "I think it's gonna ta... oh shit run." Nemo continued before suddenly interrupting himself when he saw the wave attack approach. He turned around and started to run down the stairs. Because of the unstable state of the tower, as soon as the wave would collide it would surely tip over and crash down on the deck.


[System]
Age: 23

Gender: Female

"Occupation": Pugilist

Physical Description: Silva isn't visually impressive at a average height and build. Other than a large scar at her torso her body is generally free from any blemishes. Her clothing is simple and nonrestrictive, the kind of stuff that will allow a full range of movement. The difference between the picture and reality; she wears actual boots instead of heels, and she doesn't wear a corset.

Personality: Silvia is actually quite the friendly individual, not the happy go lucky type, but she isn't the one to brood. As what might be expected she is generally laid back, perhaps even lazy. While its true she would be perfectly content to lay about for weeks at a time, she can still get the job done when it's time. It isn't hard to become fast friends with Silvia, but it also isn't hard to enemies with her, then once that happens it can be hard to convince her otherwise. Along those same lines she has also been known to hold grudges, sometimes for years.

[User]
Somewhere

Silvia had no idea what happened, or where she was. What she did know that it was cold, very cold, which made sense considering appeared to be caught in the middle of a blizzard. There were troubling gaps in her memory, troubling in the way that while she could remember her name, and everything else about herself, this of course meant she didn't have amnesia... just after a certain point her memory simply went blank.

In the moment however she had more important priorities, the very top one being a basic desire to not die. Her clothing was horribly ill suited for the weather, hell she could already feel her fingers and grow numb after standing there for a minute at most. At least she were wearing boots, so that was a silver lining despite how insignificant it really was in the bigger picture.

After looking around trying to locate any kind of landmark, just something to help her figure out where she was, or even better a place she could take shelter. Her eyes strained against the snow, but she was able see what appeared to be a lit silhouettes of some structures, though she definitely couldn't tell more than that. She reasoned these buildings had to be quite far away, yet she would rather take her chances instead of laying down to die in the snow. With her arms held close to her body in a meager attempt to preserve body heat, Silvia slowly started to make her way to what she hoped was shelter, fighting the snow and wind along the way.

[Assistant]
Parker continued to trudge through the snow, which had gotten ankle-deep by this point, grumbling and cursing all the way. His home was less than a kilometre away, but at this rate, it'd take him much longer than the usual five or so minutes it normally took. He could have taken his car to work, on hitched a ride on a bus, but noooooo, he decided to actually get out and walk to work. Admittedly, the day was bright and clear in the morning, with the frozen icicles hanging off tree branches glistening in the sun. He enjoyed those sights, and maybe he did enjoy that morning stroll through city park.

The wind howled, and Parker's cap was almost blown off his head. He yelped as he swiftly snatched it from the air and tightened it. He stared up towards the sky. The winds were picking up, and the blizzard was getting more severe. Not a good thing. He didn't want to experience a whiteout again. Checking his holotool once more, he noted that the temperature had fallen by one degree. He shivered. He honestly hoped it wouldn't drop to negative sixty this year. Shoving his hands deeper into his pockets, he picked up his pace.

Just then, someone stumbled out of the snow-covered forest, appearing cold and confused. Parker couldn't make out who it was, but the person clearly needed help. He made his way towards the person. Nearing the person, Parker noticed that it was a woman who seemed to be in her early twenties. His eyes widened slightly when he saw what she was wearing. She was wearing a thin, sleeveless dress, which had slits in the sides that revealed her admittedly shapely legs, and a pair of knee-high boots.

Clothes horrifically unsuited for the cold. Did she have a death wish or something?

Still, she clearly needed help, her arms wrapped around herself in an attempt to preserve body heat. Parker approached her slowly. "Hey!" He called over the sound of the wind. "Do you need some help?"

[User]
Silvia's attention was quite suddenly drawn to a nearby voice, although at first she wasn't sure if anyone was there given the harsh conditions. At this point she was seriously shivering after only a few minutes of exposure, which meant she wasn't in any condition to fight if things were to go south. The man in question was difficult to make out despite how close they stood to each other, yet he had a distinctly odd air to him. Perhaps it was the cold getting to her.

She attempted to open her mouth to speak, but was then abruptly interrupted by a heavy gust of wind which was almost enough to completely knock her down. Silvia after regaining her footing tried to talk again, however she couldn't muster the energy to form any words, not when her entire body so mind numbingly cold. Instead she nodded her head, hoping that the stranger could see her well enough.

[Assistant]
Parker could see the woman in question open her mouth to say something, but no words came out. "What? I can't hear you. Speak up!" He called. A strong gust of wind suddenly blew through the area, forcing him to take a step back to avoid falling. The woman, however, seemed to be hit the hardest. She almost fell, but thankfully managed to regain his footing. "Whoa there!" Parker rushed to steady her, instinctively putting his arm around her shoulder. "You lost?" He asked, looking her in the eyes. Then he noticed that she had purple eyes. Odd, but not exactly uncommon. "Uh, where do you live? I can take you home."

His holotool beeped, and he spared it a glance. By now, temperatures had already dropped to below forty-four. That wasn't good. He couldn't risk standing out in the open for any longer, and it seemed like the woman was showing the first signs of hypothermia. "Shit." His breath turned to mist as snow continued to pelt them both. He had to get her someplace warm. Parker turned back to her. "The weather's getting too cold. I hope you wouldn't mind coming home with me." He slowly began to guide her in the direction of his home, fighting the wind with each step.

[User]
Silvia offered no resistance as the man guided her along, not that she could do a thing if she wanted. Besides while in a dangerous, undoubtedly fatal situation she wasn't about to turn down the help unless she truly had a death wish. Now that she was closer to the man she was able to get a better idea of his appearance, which was odd to put it a way. The fabric of this coat was foreign, well actually that was the case for his entire garb, he did however look prepared for arctic climates so he had to be a local of some kind. His looks were about average, far from ugly but nothing remarkable to be frank. Above all else, he wanted to help and she intended to capitalize on that.

Her shivering only worsened as they continued to shuffle along, her hands were fully numb and probably frostbit far as she could tell, in fact her entire body was starting to truly feel the effects of the cold. Quite suddenly, Silvia lost her footing and fell to the ground despite the man's assistance as her legs had given out completely, the freezing conditions finally sapped most of her energy. She was still conscious, but barely so.

[Assistant]
"Whoa!" Parker cried as the girl lost her footing and fell to the ground. He bent down to help her up. "You okay?" He asked. Then he noticed that she was shivering madly. Her lips were beginning to turn blue, too. While she was still conscious, it seemed as if she was going to pass out any minute. He had to do something. Quick. Cursing his luck, Parker scooped her from the ground into a bridal carry, before sprinting off. His boots provided enough grip as to not slip and fall, potentially injuring them both.

Parker kept running, quietly thankful that there wasn't anyone else around on the street who would notice this, probably getting the wrong ideas. He would've died on the spot if that happened. He shook those thoughts from his mind, though, too focused on making his way back home, his face feeling the effect of cold. Finally, the sight of his family home became clear, and he swiftly turned and ran up the driveway. He shifted the girl's weight to his right arm, noting how light she was. Then, he tapped his holotool against the security console.

The maglocks on the door immediately deactivated, and the door slid open with a hiss. He entered, greeted with a gust of warmer air. He was never so thankful he had the foresight to set the building's temperature regulator to a comfortable twenty-four degrees before be left. The door closed behind him, finally leaving them in warm shelter.

Parker gently laid the girl down on a couch in the living room, recalling his many, many lessons on how to treat hypothermia. It was one of the most important things growing up on a cold planet, after all. He considered himself lucky to not he an inhabitant of actual frozen planets like Hiemal or Stolitsa. Conditions there were subzero all the time, unlike here on Cascade, where there were at least five seasons.

The continent of Brittia was currently experiencing its second winter, where conditions were much more brutal than its first. During the first winter, temperatures rarely dropped below negative twenty. During the second, temperatures always dropped below negative twenty.

Moving the couch closer to a heating unit mounted to the wall and a vent on the floor, he made sure to increase the temperature of those two. Then, he sprinted upstairs and pulled out a spare blanket from a closet, making his way downstairs and spreading it over her. That done, he sighed and walked over to the kitchen and poured a glass of warm water, before walking back to the living room and pulling out a chair. He sat down and shifted towards the girl. "Here," He said. "Drink this. It'll warm you up. Can you tell me your name, please?"

[User]
The next series of events were nothing but a blur to Silvia, who was still awake fortunately enough. Before she truly realized it she was lying down covered with a blanket and was definitely indoors. It seemed the man knew exactly how to treat hypothermia, something that the woman never dreamed she would have to deal with, but she survived her brush with it. Her head rolled to the side to look at the glass of water, and after a moment sat up to take it. To take a drink from a stranger in other situations might not be recommended, yet she figured since he went through the effort of saving her life that she wasn't in any danger, besides she wasn't the paranoid type either.

Silvia took a sip from the glass, not quite enjoying the taste of warm water if she were to be honest, still she needed to warm up. "Silvia." She eventually responded to his question and gave the glass back with a nod. She then fell back onto the couch, after which she gave a long drawn out sigh. "What about you? Got a name?"

[Assistant]
"Yeah," Parker nodded. "I'm Parker." He introduced, taking the empty glass and placing it on the coffee table. "So, what were you doing wandering around outside in minus forty-four degrees?" He asked, standing up and unzipping his jacket before taking it off, revealing his plain red hoodie which he also unzipped, showing a white tee shirt with the logo of the Damascus Robotics Research Corporation, the company which he worked for as a technician. He repaired broken machinery and fixed technical issues. Working there had offered him a fairly modest salary of fifty thousand credits a year. More than enough to pay his bills.

"I don't mean to be rude, but what are you wearing?" He asked, gesturing to Silvia's choice of wear as he sat down. It looked like clothing someone would wear during the summer or something. "Why aren't you wearing... you know, something for the cold?"

[User]
"Well, because I'm probably not supposed to be here." Silvia started with her explanation, and yes she fully intended to be upfront with this guy. "Gotta be honest, I didn't plan to be standing in the middle a blizzard, especially while wearing these clothes and yeah they are meant for much warmer weather."

She stopped for a moment to carefully take in Parker's own clothes, then sighed. "I have never seen clothes like that either, so my best guess is I'm very far from home, however the problem is I got no idea how I got here. Zero idea, like there are literal holes in my memory. Actually kinda pissed about this, but I got lucky so can't complain too much. Oh and uh, thanks for pulling me out of that mess. Not being dead is nice." She made sure to at least give some thanks, both out of common courtesy, and the fact she would likely die later on without his help.

[Assistant]
Parker raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean you don't remember how you got here?" He asked, leaning in closer to her. "People don't exactly appear out of thin air, you know." He gestured over to Silvia's clothes. "But with clothes like that, I would've guessed you're from Arcadia or something." Arcadia was, of course, a mainly tropical planet composed of numerous islands of varying size floating on an immensely large ocean. Parker had never been there, but its inhabitants always seemed to dress for the warm weather. Silvia's clothes reminded him of the ones Arcadians wore to formal events. Still, her clothes looked far too ancient, almost as if they were from another time.

The technician put a hand to his chin. "Unless scientists on Axis Mundi have been experimenting with teleportation again." He'd seen vids and read reports on the topic. A colony that really was one big research facility. Very popular place for scientists due to the lack of populated settlements. Last time he checked, the scientists there were messing around with a weather control device, which went badly wrong and blew up itself, the research team, and a chunk of the continent it was on. However, teleportation was something they were researching years ago. The project was shut down when people started disappearing from various colonies. "Where is your home, anyway?"

[User]
Silvia shrugged. "Exactly that, I got have absolutely no idea at all how I got here, one moment I was somewhere a lot warmer and in the next I was here." That said she was starting to remember a little more, definitely not the very cause of this mess, although she was certain something big happened before she got thrown into a blizzard, just she couldn't recall exactly what. A sort of vague feeling of a memory being there, but that was about it.

She then sighed yet again. "Arcadia, Axis Mundi... never heard of those cities, and those clothes of yours like I said before, I've never seen anyone dress like you. So yeah if there is some teleportation shenanigans going on here, it took me way far away. So far that I doubt you'll know where I'm from anyway."


[System]
Age/Race/Gender: 34. Human. Male. Caucasian.

Appearance: 5'11. Pale blue eyes. Jagged scar running from above his right eye to roughly the cheekbone area. Unkempt short dark-brown hair and scraggly goatee with permanent five o'clock shadow.

Occupation: Assassin.

Weapons:
1- MARS-388 Tactical Rifle: Prototype Modular Weapon that, with the flick of a switch can re-arrange it's parts to shift functions from a long-range sniper rifle, to a short-range automatic ballistic rifle, and just about anything in between. It also has a experimental CLAR (Concentrated Laser Assault Rifle) mode that is extremely prone to overheating in its current unfinished form.

2- Twin BlackHammer pistols- Fairly standard ballistic sidearms, easily acquired off the black market. Personally customized with Magnetic Grips. In-Line Silencer Toggle and 3-Way Ammo Shift (Light, Heavy, and Shrapnel)

Also has access to a large armory from his black market contacts, which he keeps on-board for general crew use.

Armor:
Armored using mainly a heavy ballistic weave rather than cumbersome metal plating for effective protection against small-arms fire as well as nimble movement for quick on-the-job escapes. Completely ineffective to laser fire however.

Items:
Active Camo: Bends light around him to give the illusion of invisibility. Battery life ranges from 10 minutes (sitting completely still) to 2 minutes or less (when sprinting/running)
Analysis Tool: HUD overlay that identifies weak points on a sighted target. Secondary effect allows for tracking of targets. Synced up to both his helmet and eye implant (see below)
Cyber-Eye Implant in right eye that gives him a helmet-less HUD as well as assists with long-range targeting data.
Spider's Web Belt-mounted grappling cables that can stick to many surfaces, allowing him to suspend or transport himself between specific points. Controlled by a wrist-mounted computer.

Skills: An expert in nearly all forms of weaponry, both in the operation and maintenance department. If he likes you, he'll fix up any damaged weapons, or lend you new ones. His expertise in the art of tactical murder have also led to him developing quite a good tracker's sense.

Powers: No known psionic powers

Other: Somewhat unstable. Seems to suffer from some undiagnosed form of a split-personality disorder. Strange accent containing traces of Irish and Austrailian dialect.

[User]
When someone named Stryker practically welcomed Amy with open arms, she couldn't help but feel a slight tinge of satisfaction. Apparently her captors had glamorized her skills, if only to make her seem like a more suitable candidate for this mission, but it nonetheless helped her fit in that much better. The poor Alliance bastards were shooting themselves in the foot and they didn't even know it.

After they were dismissed, Amy wanted to go down to her room and get a hold of her commander given that she already had much more information than she would have expected, but then a few moments later, Stryker made the announcement that they were just about ready for departure. With that, Amy frowned. She reached out a hand to place it against the nearest wall, taking a few steps forward until she touched the cold surface, when she heard someone address her about her bags being somewhat of a safety issue.

"Mind helping me?" Amy asked, turning her head towards the male voice, "I'm not the least bit familiar with the ship and I'm afraid that I'll end up with a broken arm or a leg if I attempt to make a break for my room at the last possible minute."

[Assistant]
"Mind helping me? I'm not the least bit familiar with the ship and I'm afraid that I'll end up with a broken arm or a leg if I attempt to make a break for my room at the last possible minute." Amy responded as she turned towards Benny.

The bomber audibly sighed as he released his hold from the table and approached the girl's luggage back. Using Skelly pick it up, he dragged the container towards him as he used his human arm to brace himself once more on the war room table. Amy's luggage was fairly heavy, and though Skelly could carry a great deal of weight, the shoulder joint was still not as secured as Benny would've liked. Regardless, the bag was held firmly by his bionic arm. "Jus' so ya' know, lass, if Ol' Skelly comes off'a me again 'cause of whatever rocks you're carryin' in here, you're helpin' screw him back on." Benny said as he awaited the ship's takeoff.

He felt that something was off about this woman. She seemed far too nice in comparison to everyone else on board. People like Hadrian, their chef, and Lataniva, the Dalentian, were polite yet clearly wary due to the nature of their team. Benny himself and that Sandra woman were more cheery, but it was mainly because of their natural quirkiness and not a desire to "fit in" with the crew. Amy on the other hand was behaving as if she were assigned to a civilian vessel, speaking as if everything they were doing was normal. Maybe I'm just overthinking this... Hell, she could be a serial killer for all I know and the nice and normal act is all a facade, in which case she'd fit in perfectly. Or maybe she's another Alliance bitch that Captain Dawson sent here to keep an eye on us. No wait, she's blind... Ehh, statement still stands, she seems perceptive enough. No use pondering about it now though. Guess we'll cross that bridge when we get there. He thought silently, putting the suspicion aside for now.

[User]
Arex

---

Location: The Revenant, Crew quarters -> kitchen.Interacting with: food

---

***

As soon as the ship was stable Arex exited his room and went straight towards the kitchen. He could hear signs of the rest of the crew around him, noises from behind the dorm doors and down the hallway but he wasn't feeling overly inquisitive or social.

Once in the kitchen he began to search through and study the quality of their rations. After all this would compose his main diet from now on. Plenty of nutrient heavy packaged processed foods lined the shelves with powders and pastes by the plethora. The fridge and freezer held a bit more promise but segments were rationed and locked, only to be accessed by the chef.

Knowing where the cameras were Arex subtly pocketed a few bars and pouches with some simple sleight of hand. It was a selfish move but he would not rely on the good will of the others should they become stalled in deep space and short on supplies.

Tearing open the packaging of a dense dry chewy nutrient bar, he eagerly begins gnawing away at the near flavourless snack. It wasn't until now did he realise just how hungry he was.
A short moment later he sat at the table with a drink and bowl of semi solid mush before him. The food in the bowl was the instructive result of mixing one of the powders with liquid then zapping it.
Flavourless would have been better, but right now he didn't care.

[Assistant]
"Sure, trust the blind girl to patch you back up. What could go wrong, right?" Amy smiled sarcastically, wondering what the hell he was referring to when he mentioned Skelly. She did genuinely like the man's accent though, if only because it was different and goodness knows Amy appreciated the hell out of accents. They broke the monotony of having to listen to similar voices all the time. It's like being stuck listening to one specific music genre; there isn't any sort of variety.

"But really, thank you," she added minus the sarcasm, "I promise I won't be this much of a bother once I become familiarized with the ship. The first day or two is always the hardest, then it's easy as cake. But you know, what can you do when they throw an assignment on you at the very last possible moment."

Amy found the door frame again and braced herself for departure, hoping to all hell that they just hadn't sent her to her death.

[User]
Blind. Lack of such a vital sense for a human, yet still a crewmember of this ship? Lataniva felt immediate doubts in terms of Amy's expected performance, and gave a judging stare. However, it also held true that she must be on this ship for a reason. Lataniva hand twitched in her direction, her fingers flexing, but managed to suppress the desire to leech out the information through mind-reading. As she had learned, people tended to not appreciate that outside her home planet.

'I feel potentially unjustified doubt about your ability to not be a liability in an away-mission. May I ask you of your capabilities?'Lataniva asked, her voice not being so nice as to mask her judgmental nature. It wasn't in her nature to keep such doubt unaddressed.

As for the strategic discussion, there was something she wished to clarify on something which Sandra had said.

'For me to control someone, I need a bit of time. It's not something that could be done in the middle of a violent encounter or when there is a close time-limit. However, yes. If there's a relatively safe time, an easy instruction to make and we can spare fifteen minutes to an hour, I could send someone to destroy the base from within.' Lataniva commented.

She looked to Benny when she was spoken to further along with the plan, and considered what he had to say. If she could allow him into the main security room…

'That is possible. However, if we can get our hands on the right person, then I can simply obtain the information of how to do so for myself and then grant you access myself. Controlling someone takes time, as I need to calibrate a lot of factors, but just reading their mind takes but moments.'

As they were also suggested to prepare themselves, Lataniva found a suitable place to sit down and prepare herself until the take-off was complete.

[Assistant]
"Alright Sepitan, they're payin' you for one job, so get to it" Stryker said snidely as he tapped a final code into the console in front of him, transferring full control to the pilot. The rumble of the engines grew louder, and Stryker gripped the arms of his seat, still uneasy at travelling on a vessel that he wasn't in direct control of. Across from him, the Funganoid gripped the main thruster control and slid it to full. The engines hit their peak, giving a mighty roar that echoed throughout the belly of the beast. Stryker was pressed back against his seat as the Revenant leaped forward, rocketing out of the docking bay. Then came the thwump and a great lurch forward as the ship exited the station's atmo-field. The sound of the engines suddenly lost to the vacuum of space, along with any semblance of gravity. Stryker cursed under his breath.
"Forgot the damn artificial gravity, engaging now" he tapped a trio of buttons on his console, and the weight of the world returned.

"Set course for Zargos System. The long way, don't wanna be detected early, and test the autopilot under full supervision before you even think of leaving this cockpit. I don't trust Dawson or any of his goddamn Alliance engineers as far as I could throw 'em. Need anything else- I'll be in my quarters. Oh, and congratulations for not killing us all"

Stryker grabbed his datapad and traipsed out of the cockpit, past the rows of gunner seats and the war room. Some of the crew hadn't left yet, he could hear their voices as he passed by the door of the circular room. Through the observation window into the med bay, he observed the Russian medic busying himself. Finally, he arrived at the rear of the command deck, on his right was the ladder leading up to the forward battery, an upper part of the command deck designated for control and maintenance of the main guns. On his left was his own cozy little corner of the ship. Punching in the access code Dawson gave him, the door slid open and Stryker slipped inside and re-locked it before anyone bothered him.

The cabin was nicer than expected. A large queen bed dominated the rear of the room, with a view out into the expanse situated above it. It wasn't a window obviously, just a relayed image from exterior sensors, but it was quite a sight all the same. A walled off section directly to his right led into his own private bathroom and shower. A desk with a full-functioning terminal sat off to the side, and opposite it, a closet and some shelving his armor and gear would fit comfortably on. He'd kept his battlesuit on the entire time, and it was starting to wear on him, just a bit. After stripping down to his civilian wear, Stryker settled in at the desk and prepared for a long session of studying his new team, planning out ways to tinker with the plan to suit their individual skillsets.

----------------

Down in his quarters, Grayson wasn't doing so well. Ever since they hit open space, the voices had been running a marathon all around his head. One told him to befriend this new crew, enjoy the ride while he could. Another told him to kill them all now, before they caused trouble. One said ride this job out, work off his sentence and another screamed to grab an escape pod and slip off to the deepest corner of the Deadzone. Old friends and enemies rose up out of the ether to offer opinions or spit in his face. Demons and half-formed things chanted in made-up languages. And far away, in the distance, unintelligible whispers, some sharp like a razor in the dark, some soft as a lover's kiss. Through it all he kept breathing, in and out, in and out.

And then nothing.

Exhale. Calm swept over him, everything was ok again. Everything except his stomach, which told him to get sustenance. Now.

Daniel made a beeline for the kitchen, passing by Hadrian the cook in the hall as he did so. Upon entry to the kitchen, he found the mysterious new crewmember there, apparently having the same idea.

He fumbled through the food stores and decided to strike up a dialog
"We meet again. Arex right?"

Light