[System] Ashley Gallagher

[User]
Ashley Gallagher
8:30 AM - Above Club Carousel

Ashley could tell the woman was nearly hysterical. Hell, anyone could probably tell the woman was nearly hysterical. He kept his face straight and neutral, but couldn't help inwardly releasing a heavy sigh. Was it so wrong to hope that maybe just once he would question someone fully competent and emotionally stable?

But she was young, so Ashley by some distant connection could loosely understand. She looked scared to death. He briefly considered patting her shoulder as support but ultimately decided against it given the context, a stranger touching her was probably the last thing in the world that she wanted.

As frustrating as it was, the woman's information was useless, nothing he couldn't find out with a few minutes of running his eyes over the crime scene, but at least the victims were identified, as were their last known… activities. He offered a curt nod. "I appreciate your time Miss Fitzpatrick. Is there someone you can call?" He paused, considering the apartment thoughtfully, "Somewhere you can stay?" He doubted she would hang around long, not with the look she had in her eyes.

Ashley's thought process was interrupted. "Hey, Gallagher, get over here." Smith called from across the apartment.

"Excuse me, Miss." He passed her, his shoulder brushing hers as he made his way to his partner who was crouched over the dead woman. Julia.

"Gallagher, get a load of this." With his fingers at her jaw, Smith turned the woman's face to the side, fully baring the extent of her injuries. Her head was completely, violently bashed in— as in, half of her skull was simply missing.

"Jesus," Ashley muttered, shoving at Smith's shoulder until he moved and sliding in to his previous position, crouched over the body. "No basic robbery would end up in this, they'd go for something more perfunctory less… messy." He pinched her chin, pushing it up to examine her neck and the rest of her body. "Not gratuitous though, no eh…" He gestured to the rest of the body. "Unnecessary wounding."

"Definitely not a robbery," Smith murmured, almost to himself. Ashley turned his gaze to what Smith's attention was focused on. A shiny watch laid neatly on the table. "They'd have pocketed this stuff, it'd get a pretty penny."

"If they had thought it was a robbery they wouldn't have called us."

"Why did they call us? Isn't this homicide territory?"

"Proximity to the club, probably figured it was gang-related violence…" Ashley began to respond, but trailed off as he noticed something. A faint slip of pure white beneath the blood-painted lips of the victim. "Hey uh, doc?"

The Coroner lofted a brow, stepping away from the other body. "Shoot, Gallagher."

"Did you by any chance look in her mouth?"

"Not yet, why, you see something?"

Ashley spoke through gritted teeth as he stuck two thumbs into her mouth and attempted to pry it open against the rigor mortis. "Yeah, maybe." With some effort and a sickening crack her jaw finally popped wide for him. He stuck a gloved finger into the now-dry depths of her mouth. A rose. It was a white rose that he pulled from her red lips, dripping with hours old blood-hinted saliva trapped within the petals. Behind it, slipping from the throat, trailed a long, thorny stem— the spines bloodied and catching on her lips as he gently tugged.

"Jesus, Ashley!" Smith exclaimed. "What the fuck is that?" He quickly knelt down beside the male victim, repeating the process of prying open the jaw, though the masculine bone structure proved significantly harder to crack. Sure enough, Smith pulled out an almost identical rose, with somewhat less care.

Ashley almost grinned. The thrill of it, of the challenge placed before him. This was someone taunting him, this was a mystery laid at his feet and he loved it. He kept his tone monotonous and professional. "Bag them both, see if we can pull prints— anything else? Check the jacket."

Smith did as instructed, rifling through the various pockets of the suit jacket before patting down the bulge in the breast. Yet again, a rose was revealed from the breast pocket, also white, and also fully intact.

"That's all I need," Ashley decided, sharing a nod with Smith for confirmation. "—Wait. Wait." He jabbed a finger towards the counter in the corner. A single glass of wine sat, half-finished. "A single glass. No lipstick. No, if it was one of them, there would be two. There's only one." He leapt from the body and was across the room in an instant, fingers hovering over the curve of the glass. "Blood right here, on the stem, see? This was after the murder. Check this for prints too." He glanced at Smith, who had appeared beside him. "Get the girl a ride somewhere, she shouldn't stay here— Make sure those dogs at Homicide don't take my damn case, and make sure all of this evidence makes it to the station. I have someone I need to see."

And with that he was out of the apartment in a flurry, headed towards the club and a pair of green eyes that might have seen something that the girl didn't.

[Assistant]
"Emerald"
8:45 AM - Club Carousel

Emerald had seen the commotion, or some of it at least. She'd shown up to the club under the light of day to have a drink in peace. Instead, the sidewalk had been crowded with bystanders, streets blocked off with the red and blue flash and glare of police. Naturally, she snuck in the back way and seated herself at the bar, waiting calmly to see what riot pranced on in.

She must admit she hadn't expected Detective Gallagher in all of his professional huff and puff to swing through the doors, but now that she had seen him, she supposed it was only a matter of time before he had questions for her. And so she waited more, gently turning the contents of her glass round and round and taking a small sort of pleasure in the soft clink of ice against glass.

It wasn't long as she didn't expect it to be. She pretended to be ignorant of his presence until he seated himself beside her, curious eyes boring into her despite her attempts to avoid eye contact. "A horrible thing, really." She commented after a moment."Murder." She took a sip from her drink.

Finally his gaze relented and he expelled an exasperated sigh. "Have an particular affinity for roses, Miss Emerald?"

The question caught her off guard, but she answered it nonetheless, figuring it had something to do with the investigation. "Roses? No." She paused, dragging the silence on with a stalling drink. "Truly I'm more of a tulip girl. Why, you buying me flowers, baby?"

He seemingly ignored her, a fact which she found wholly unsurprising. "You were obviously here last night, did you see anything out of the ordinary?"

"Mm, no, nothing. We get all sorts of shady types in and out of the club— its basically in the job description."

"Emerald, please, you were in the club, you didn't see anything to cause suspicion?"

She rolled her eyes. He was grasping at straws. So many people filtered in from the streets and he knew that. Nonetheless, "What time did the murder take place?" Emerald asked in a weary tone.

"Early morning, no later than three no earlier than midnight."

She nodded. "Right, I was outside, in the rain, chatting up some poor slip of a girl. Alison I think it was?"

"Alison Fitzpatrick?"

"Who knows?"

Ashley pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're not making my job any easier, you know that?"

"Not my job to— all you need to know is I didn't do it, and I didn't see who did it. Now leave me alone, I've had enough of the NYPD for the day. For a lifetime even. Can't a girl just have a drink?"

"Two people are dead, Emerald. Is this a game to you?"

"I don't play games, Detective. Not my style."

She felt rather than saw his eye roll, and had to restrain her laughter.

"You promised me information," He leaned in close, threateningly close as his voice dropped to a gravelly whisper. "I intend to collect."

For the first time in the conversation she turned her eyes on him, searching his face. He was angry, uncharacteristically angry. The grimace she was faced with seemed only a facade, a poorly played television role and yet… "You're breaking my heart, Gallagher. Truly. I suppose I can ask around, ask some of the girls, see if they saw anything."

He retreated with a relieved breath, seating himself once more. "I'd appreciate it."

"Sure, sure. Rat me out to the entire mob why don't you? Lay me bare in front of a thousand hungry tigers? I probably shouldn't even be seen with you." She donned a teasing tone, turning her attentions back to the drink she so heavily coveted just a few hours ago. It now seemed unappealing.

He stood, tucking his shucked coat over a bent forearm. "Now you're just being dramatic, doll. Keep an ear out, I'm coming back tomorrow." Ashley paused, turning back one last time. "Oh and Emerald? Don't call me baby."

Emerald offered no response, simply waited for the click of the doors behind him before standing and meandering to the center of the club, swaying a little to an imaginary beat. It wasn't that she didn't want to care that two innocent city-goers had been brutally murdered just above her, it was simply that she didn't have the capacity to care. One could only sincerely care about a few things without damaging themselves, taking on everything that crossed ones path would be a waste of mind and a waste of compassion.

She just hoped whatever idiot was killing people would get it out of their system soon and stop drawing attention to the club, it was bad for business to have on-duty officers lingering around like hungry animals.

And that was the horrible thing, murder was bad for business.

[User]
Alison Fitzpatrick
Club Carousel, Morning

"Get the girl a ride somewhere, she shouldn't stay here— Make sure those dogs at Homicide don't take my damn case, and make sure all of this evidence makes it to the station. I have someone I need to see." And with that, Ashley was out of the apartment in a flurry, headed towards the club and a pair of green eyes that might have seen something that the girl didn't.

Alison grimaced at the rugged detective's partner, who was unconvincingly straight-edged. The rather unremarkable looking man offered her an apologetic smile. The curvature of his lips was even more insincere than her's; he was doing everything that he could to bring the bloodstained room back to protocol. Poor boy. This "Smith" was as green as a stick of broccoli.

"I'm going to take you to the station," Smith said with a kind, but assertive voice. "Or would you like to stay at my apartment until we can find a new place for you?"

"No."

"No to what?"

"Both."

"You aren't going to stay here, Miss Fitzpatrick."

"I am not going to spend my second night in New York in a...in a police station! I'll---I'll find a place to stay."

Smith frowned. Above all else, he wished the best for this poor naive fairy; this apartment had become cursed. She had to find somewhere. He had seen duplicates of Alison get dissolved by the system dozens of times -- moths, eagerly racing toward the flame. Perhaps this horrible day could set her on the right path. "If you want my advice, miss...Go home."

"You are preaching to the choir," Alison mumbled. "Is it all right if I gather my things?"

"Not until we conclude bagging evidence. I am sorry."

"Right. I'll be back." Alison stumbled out of the room and let her bodyweight momentously drag her down the stairs. She wandered into the subdued realm of the Carousel Club, still wearing the same nightgown as the previous evening. She hadn't even bothered to look down to witness her indecency. That was the least of her worries. She spotted the woman known as "Emerald" on the floor and hoarsely hollered toward her.

"Please help me."

[Assistant]
Morning - Club Carousel

Emerald's silent reverie was interrupted by the hoarse cry behind her. She swung around from her dancing sway with the abrupt and erratic tap of her heels, lofting a brow as she beheld the girl before her, the girl from last night.

She was a wreck, worse than a wreck, with worn out eyes and still garbed in the same nightgown now wrinkled from drying through dirty rainwater. Emerald pulled the cigarette from her lips and cast the girl in a sympathetic gaze. "Oh honey, you're a mess." She shrugged out of her thick trench coat, moving to drape it over the girl's shoulders. "Let me get you a drink." She then ushered the girl over to the bar, if possible, and beckoned her to sit as she brought her own drink in front of her. "Have some of this, my favorite."

Ashley had mentioned an Alison. With the stricken look on the girl's face they must have met the same one. So this girl was involved in the murder somehow. Poor thing. "This city just won't let you alone will it?" She moved to stroke some of the hair out of her face as a soothing gesture. "What can I do you for, dear?"


[System]
Age: 31(Fledgling)
Appearance: Rex is a smaller unassuming vampire at first, but maintains a good muscular form no doubt aided by his species' natural abilities. His eyes are so pale blue they are nearly colorless at first, but when he's using his vampiric charm they turn solid black. Written all over him are runic symbols, something he's not exactly certain why his father had them given to him, as he only remembers the last 15 years of his life and they've been there since then. Raven black hair is slicked back out of his face, and he's fond of leather jackets and always has a blade or six on him.

Personality: Rex is studious, unsure of how he has his knowledge but knows that he's been out of commission for a while after a major event, his father being killed, leading him to find his killers. He does not crave violence, a bit uneasy at his need to drink blood to survive, often drinking from other's Thralls. He rarely uses his Charm, knowing that if he does and others find out he'll be hunted before he finds his answers. He holds great disdain for the Hunters, as he and his father never did any of the atrocities their other side of the family committed. Instead his father had found something so major it made him start spending a lot of time moving around, Rex following as he found more and more evidence, eventually leading to his father's death.

Other: Rex does have magic outside of his charm, though it's magic his father gained from a Seidkonna and a Skullbird named Skuggi. Skuggi is an incredibly smart beast, able to understand speech and communicates through imagery. When stressed, Skullbirds fade into their shadow to hide, and are incredibly weak to light magic and fire, though are known to be only temporarily killed as they are a form of undead raven and only holy magic can banish them.

[User]
*Skuggi paused his preening to hop around the catvyrn. He nodded and sent an image of Rex smiling and the emotion of happiness. He jumped over to the table with the map and observed the new pins. Rex watched as the skullbird memorized the locations and cawed, sending an image of a burning forest to Jay with the emotion of sadness. Rex translated it for him, frowning. "That's along the same areas we have reports of the forest being burned away. It's forcing several therian groups to move or risk exposure."

He sat down in the chair behind the desk, looking through the pile of books. "But that is for when we finish our current mission. Ah, here it is." He grabbed a robin blue book with strange text. "This is the report on Fae magic that my father compiled. It's written in their language but I can teach it to you." He holds it out for Jay.

---

Zion grimaced at the pendant. With a swift move he removed it from her and held it up to look at it. "Jivarn would be very interested in this. Magical devices is one of his specialities. This looks like the inverse of a Bloodtear. It reeks of dark magicks." He looked down at Vex. "It stops them from contracting the Blood? That is... Concerning. We've only recently managed to come up with a way to do that. I will have to alert Dryder on this..." He rotated it in his hands, noting the burn. It was sharp and insistent like he was holding a prickly ball.

"At any rate-" He stopped casting a shadowy arrow out into a shadow nearby. The arrow seemed to be absorbed as a solitary red eye appeared. Stepping forward, Lord Jivarn revealed himself. "Jivarn! Old friend it has been some time."

"Indeed." He looked to Vex. "I see." His stare was piercing and he seemed to evaluate her before he bowed his head slightly to Vex. "Welcome to the House of Valorian, young Kin." His attention returned to Zion who nodded. "A strong choice. Though it is a new Bond. In response to your letter I took the opportunity to scry. I felt a disturbance in the natural flow of mana and came."

Zion chuckled and handed him the pendant. "That would probably be this. Vex, this is Jivarn of House Regulus, our young King's caretaker and stepfather. And the man I came to see in this city. I assume he's here?"

"Ah yes." Jivarn said, his attention on the pendant. He had procured leather gloves that shimmered slightly as he examined the crystal. "He has made himself an acquaintance with a young Half-Fae Hunter named Jay. From what Rex tells me he's the grandson of their leader. Interesting boy. His magic is rather unrefined though his aura is very active. He managed to tame a Catvyrn."

"I think we found the pair we were looking for, eh Vex?" Zion laughed, waving a hand and summoning a horse.

"No horse for me?"

"You got here fast enough."

"And you don't need a horse." Jivarn pointed out.

"I'm as eccentric as I am old." Zion laughed.

[Assistant]
Wyf fluffed herself slightly before she looked towards Jay. "Oh!" She started, fluttering over to her owner and settled on him as he reached for the book. "Will this be like her notes? The ones you could read?" Wyf asked quickly, nipping at Jay to open the book quickly.

Jay flinched with each bite from Wyf, "I doubt I'll be able to read it." He said before he looked reading the front, flicking through the pages quietly. "Hold on, I can... Read some of this?"
"See!" Wyf said with a trill, "I knew you'd be able to! The blood gives some bonuses!"
Jay looked up to Rex with a small blink, "May... I... Borrow this?" He asked with a tilt of his head, "The words... Move on the page for me but I need to focus for them to settle so I can read it."

---

Vex bowed her entire body to the other Elder when she was introduced. "A pleasure to meet you." She said before she listened more.
Her ears pricked up about a 'fae-blooded Hunter', "Jayce!" She blurted out, moving to cover her mouth softly, "Sorry, I don't mean to interrupt." She said before she continued listening.

She failed to hold herself back again when they mentioned a Catvyrn; "Wyf is hardly tamed." She commented, "The thing loves Jay to pieces, he was the first thing she saw when she hatched. Granted Jay was the one to convince the others not to shatter her egg when I found it."
She glanced towards Zion when he summoned the horse, before moving to hop up on it with a little bit of struggle, looking towards the town as her eyes glistened in the moonlight, Don't worry Jay. I'm here to help. She thought, her ears twitching as her power spiked since the pendant was gone.

Now that the Pendant was finally gone, her powers fully blossomed; her hair changing tint and becoming a darker icy blue, her nails slightly sharper. Her wings suddenly reappeared and fluttered in the moonlight, and a slender, soft furred tail slipped into view, tipped with another tuff of longer dark blue hair.
Vex almost collapsed at the power flood, she was exhausted again- but at least she wasn't exactly starving. She leaned against the horse with a small huff, the transformation was over, at least. Good now I ca- She was interrupted as she had to cup her hands over her ears as they gave off a small burning sensation; as she shakily pulled her hands away, her small bat-like ears twitched.

[User]
Rex nods. "It's yours. I've already studied what I needed from it. If you need help I can assist as best as I can. It's divided into four sections. History, Genealogy, Culture, and Known Spells. Father liked to take detailed notes on species he came across. One of the reasons why his stuff lies here. If the Hunters ever got a hold of it, it could spell the end of every species. He was working on something big, before he stumbled upon the undead problem. He called it the Book of Anima, said that whatever was being the problem wanted that book as well. What we're looking for in the Steppes is the ruins that have it. The Lich is after that. We find it, destroy it and the Lich, and we win. Simple, yeah?"

---

Zion chuckled at her outburst. "You are allowed to speak freely among us, young one. You'll find that the common practices of the Court don't generally apply here. Especially with the last two Kings rarely ever visiting their own Palace. I doubt Rex even knows that he has four of them now." He laughed then stopped when he watched her transform. "I was wondering why you never showed any of your Fae ancestry. It is very strong, no doubt aided by my blood. I apologize for that. I do not know if the Hunters would take to that kindly..." He sighed. "As it is, our companions await. Hop on your horse and do try to keep up." He spurred his knightmare and charged for the city, cape fluttering behind him.

The horse's steps rolled through the plain like the shaking of earth. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that this was some mere vampire. A soft and steady drifting of smoke trailed the horse as they headed to the gates of the city that quickly approached. They were opened well before he arrived, and he slowed, turning back to raise an eyebrow at his young progeny. "Oh do hurry it along, child. Don't be afraid of her. She is just a horse."

[Assistant]
Jay smiled at Rex's words, he moved to tuck the book in his sidebag before he looked around again.
"Thank you." He said, looking to Rex with a bigger smile, "Thank you so much." Wyf let out a small trill and fluffed herself before she settled on a nearby seat and started to gently preen herself.

"But that sounds simple enough, yeah." He started with a furrow of his brow, "But the execution of such thing will be harder to do."
He hesitated on speaking for a moment, his necklace gave a bit of shimmer. He felt it sting against his sting but didn't act on taking it off.
"Right, so we're waiting on an Elder yeah?" He asked after a moment of silence, looking over to Wyf slightly before looking around the room. "Hey... Have you got any Fae crystals here?"

---

Vex properly got up on the horse and ran her hands through its mane, Horse's were nor something she was really used to. She got the horse to follow Zion's.
As they neared the gates, Vex's ears pricked up slowly and her senses focused around her again.

Her ears flicked, getting used to the air running across them. She was happy to finally have her true form out, she was happy to be away from the other Hunters...
Part of her was worried, it was known that Hunter's carry companions, and with meeting Jay coming near she worried that she'd be asked about hers.
She looked to the sky for a moment, closing her eyes before she looked back to the gates again.
"Screw the Hunters at this point." Vex mumbled slowly, "We have bigger problems."

---

The dust rumbled from a figure as it lay in its hibernation area. It's handler sent it away ages ago, but it remained faithful.
Hunters didn't want it around, especially not if its handler is what she was.

The beast slowly pressed its paws into the ground, lifting it's furred head to the sky and let out a low, rumbled, roar-like yawn.
It's frayed wings fanning out slowly, it tugged at it's broken chain around it's left hind leg.
It let out a small rumble before it leaped up from the ground, using it's wings to flutter out of it's crater.
The moon shone against the beast, it's ash-brown fur glistening as it's emerald eyes narrowed over the area below it.
The beast shook it's mane as it moved to leap down the outer moment of the Crater.

Anyone who witnessed this beast would believe to have seen a ghost, a Manticore walking around this area. Manticores weren't known to roam this far inland.

[User]
Rex nods. "Yeah... I think Jivarn does. I don't deal in magical artifact-" He stopped outside the door to Jivarns' office. The other Vampire had a strange crystal suspendd in a device in the middle of the room. The Vampire Lord was observing it's affects on his shadows, taking notes.

"They have arrived in the city." He wasn't looking at them, instead he formed a spear of darkness and threw it at the crystal, watching it shatter and be absorbed before it could reach it. "The hunter had this on her. I would very much like to know how they obtained Blood Crystals, and how they managed it invert one. This is beyond normal dark magic. Witches and warlocks refuse to touch this. It's Elderitch in formation. I will need to call in Malkov. This is exactly the kind of thing he warned the council of." He turned towards the pair, anger in his eyes. "Who makes these. They need to be... removed. This is Demonic magic at work and whenever humans use it, it leads to destruction. I understand you'd rather not have them killed, but we need to contain them. The moment demonic taint passes through someone, they are corrupted. How this will go depends on how tainted they are." His voice was firm and commanding. Jivarn looked directly at Jay, trying to gleam the information from the half-fae's very soul.

---

Zion made his way through the city. Despite his appearance, few noticed them, as Vex felt a strange commanding pressure to look away from him and her as well. They stopped at the large manor, the Elder dismounting and walking inside, the horse sinking into the ground. He just walked in, pausing as he looked around the manor, remembering the King who lived here before. "Rest well, friend." He nodded at the portrait, and motioning for the young hunter behind him to follow, he headed towards the labs. He noticed Rex, stepping over and scowling at Jivarn.

"Easy, friend. We will find whoever made these. I doubt they come from the hunters themselves. Probably some warlock with a pact." He sighed. "It's one of the reasons why Marlvos kept them from researching their own magic ability."

Jivarn growled and drifted off to study the stone again. "Find them and bring them here. Because if the Council-"

Rex spoke up. "The Council will never hear about it. We already know the Regent is just waiting to strike out at them. To find a way around his restrictions." He followed after Jivarn, heading to the cabinet which opened up and a box of gems shoved into his chest as Jivarn's familiar, a shade named Vokos appeared, shaking it's head. Rex latched an arm around Jay and dragged him back to his own lab, Zion sighing as he left his friend and followed them.

"Sorry about him." The elder looked a bit older all of a sudden. "We're two old dogs who've seen the depravity the Hunters would stoop to and we thought that after having a bloody dragon curse their land, they'd stop." The Elder slumped in a chair. "Gods above there is no limit to the cruelty of humans..."


[System]
Age: 18

Gender: Male

Race: Human

Weapon:
Two metal tonfas, Artorius and Gwenhwyfar (formerly Lawnslot). Both are identical, visually, save perhaps a few differences in internal mechanism. In the traditionally held position, the longest part of the body aligning along the forearm, the forward facing post is actually a shotgun barrel; though standard shells are the usual ammunition, dust rounds can be loaded instead. The storage area expands along the spine of the weapon. The recoil is often used for propulsion when useful. The primary length of each tonfa actually has a blade running along it, resembling one half of a sword, to be specific.

This is because both weapons are capable of combining into a large, long sword; Caledfwlch. The two weapons reconfigure in such a way as to create a long, straight two-handed sword with a straight crossguard. The shotgun barrels are reoriented as the crossguard, one pointing to the left and the other to the right, used to enhance the power behind his swings.

Artorius and Gwenhwyfar both have one other unique attribute; high capacity batteries built into their frame. Each battery continuously siphons a supply of Aura from Benjamin, building the energy up so long as they are, in some way, upon his person. This energy can be released with a button built in below the shotguns' triggers, on the handle of the combined blade, or on the handle of the smaller tonfas. The release of this energy usually is used to power his Semblance, and must be replenished over time when discharged.

Joyous Guard
Expansion Calibrated for Ultimate Resistance
B. Lloyd #8 of 7

An expansion device manufactured to work in conjunction with Artorius and Gwenhwyfar. In its default form the Joyous Guard is a tower shield, large and incredibly heavy. Two racks are integrated into its back side for holding the two tonfa when not in use. It can be held in hand, affixed to the forearm (vertically or horizontally) or stored on Benjamin's back. The top and bottom sides taper off into wedges, enabling it to be used as an offensive bludgeoning weapon when affixed horizontally to the forearm. Its connection to the forearm is carefully designed to ensure that both tonfa are compatible in use when the shield is in play, though Joyous Guard is primarily intended for use with Caletfwlch. The shield is manufactured from dense, durable metals, making it even heavier than it looks. For this reason Gravity Dust was used in its construction, making it nearly weightless in Ben's hand. Notably, however, it is Aura-coded to Ben's Aura; in the hands of anyone not on its whitelist, the Gravity Dust reverses and makes it too heavy to be lifted.

Joyous Guard's secondary configuration requires the use of Artorius and Gwenhwyfar. The shield unfolds, incorporating the transformation mechanisms in both tonfa to provide the necessary components for the configuration. Namely they provide part of the edges and part of the hilt of the immense two-handed sword Joyous Guard becomes. The effects of the Dust carry over in this form, ensuring that Ben can swing it almost as easily as he would Caletfwlch. In fact, due to the nature of F=ma, a swing from it will be many times as devastating with a fraction of the effort. Like Caleftwlch, the shotgun barrels incorporated into the hilt aid in granting increased force to its swings.

Finally, in a tertiary configuration, Joyous Guard can convert while affixed to Ben's forearm by splitting down the middle and orienting the magnetic racks used to hold Artorius and Lawnslot along the two horizontal halves. The Lightning Dust used to generate that magnetic field, in this form, cranks into overdrive to turn the shield into a forearm mounted electromagnetic cannon. Slow-firing, but incredibly potent in its offensive power. Artorius and Lawnslot are absolutely necessary for this configuration, as they provide the additional structural stability needed to let Joyous Guard withstand the considerable forces exerted. As a bonus, however, this makes their shotgun barrels useful in this configuration.
Specialty: Benjamin is a highly adaptable fighter. He lacks dedicated defensive capabilities, but his weapons serve very well as augmentation to forearm blocks. The lightweight nature of his weapons, however, also means that he is a highly agile fighter. His preference is to move as quickly as possible, landing strikes when opportunities present themselves and evading blows (blocking if absolutely unavoidable).

Use of both his Semblance and Caledfwlch is exceedingly rare, to the point that they have not yet been used during his career at Beacon. Both are abilities and options he keeps to himself, aces up the sleeve. Ultimately, his style permits him to act as the situation demands, though the drawback to the continuous siphoning of his Aura, as well as his lack of any dedicated defensive tools, is that his personal defenses are noticeably lower than others'.

Semblance: Deinamig: Benjamin is capable of using Aura to fuel an individual section of his body to well beyond its usual limits. Fueling his legs, for example, will drastically increase both speed and power of his legs, and fueling his arms will do much the same. This can, theoretically, be applied to any section of his body. The Aura for this is usually provided by the resevoirs built up within his weapons, but that supply is not infinite. If a situation arises where he is unable to tap into it (or it runs out) he can directly fuel his Semblance with his present Aura.

Personality: Benjamin is a friendly guy. He also, at first glance through his performance in school, nothing to write home about. Average or slightly above in all his classes, with the only oddities appearing once one takes a closer look. His homework assignments represent minimal effort, while all examination scores actually place him near the top of the grading scale. Between the two, depending on how the class is run, they average out to roughly average grades. In short, Benjamin doesn't bother to do his homework until the last minute, if at all. He conforms to a decidedly nonstandard view of what is important, and what is not. Things he views as "busy work", such as most homework assignments, are treated with at best casual disregard, while things he views as important (tests, examinations, practice, getting to know people) works at. His strange views actually are rooted in a single opinion; if it isn't something he needs to do in order to do well in his life, it doesn't really matter. People skills will be important, combat skills will be important, all of the knowledge he amasses will be important. So he takes his tests and exams seriously, but at the end of the day… Who's going to care, once he leaves Beacon, whether or not his did his vocabulary flash cards?

This practical viewpoint extends to many aspects of his life, but he will always make an effort to get to know people. His wit might be a little sarcastic at times, but anyone who he views as a friend will find that few will go to greater lengths for their friends. Aside from his practicality, which more than a few teachers might instead term "laziness", Ben has one other notable quirk. He seldom fights at full capacity. He believes it is always best to have an ace or two tucked away up the sleeve, so that if a situation ever arises where he simply can't handle it, or needs just a little more power… He has something to draw on.

Color: Steel Gray

Emblem: A single inverted sword set behind a shield emblazoned with a crown device.

Appearance: Benjamin is a few inches short of six feet, making about average height for his gender. He has an athletic build, obviously necessary given his school, but he isn't overly muscular.The fighting style he prefers requires nimble movements, mandating that he maintain both a reasonable muscle mass as well as his agility. A faint grin is his default expression, blue-gray eyes bright with life under slightly messy light brown hair. He wears the Beacon school uniform completely unmodified, though it isn't at all uncommon to see him take the coat off and carry it around. When not attending class (and thus not required to wear his uniform), he tends to default to jeans paired with a black or gray long sleeved shirt. Light but durable boots are his footwear of choice, as his usual field attire simply adds some lightweight gray armor over his torso, and perhaps greaves to his shins. Artorius and Lawsnlot are carried at his belt, one on either side.

[User]
Merlin quickly inhaled the last bit of food that was left in his tray in completely silence. He didn't find himself particularly interested in the conversations around him and found no real reason to interject any of them. He did, however, give a small smile as Ivan got 'told' and stormed out. Merlin looked at the time and found he had plenty of time left to meander about. He stood up, walked to a trash can, and tossed whatever inedible object that were left on his tray away. He then walked out of the cafeteria and took a nice walk. It had been forever since Merlin had been so relaxed. He let out a long sigh of relief. He hasn't really had anytime to relax lately. Nobody to blame but himself, he has spent many of his waking hours practicing and studying to enhance his abilities even farther. Combat isn't something that comes naturally to him, and he has to spend a lot of time theorizing, practicing, and implementing it.

Merlin continued to live in his own head as he walk the grounds of Beacon. It wasn't until he heard the bell in the background, signalling the end of lunch, that he snapped out of it. He pulled out his scroll and searched for the name and location of his next class. "Grimm Studies, huh? Well, I hope there are live specimens for us to examine." He said with a hint of excitement in his voice. He then put his scroll away and zoomed off to his next class. He walked into the classroom and noticed that not everyone has arrived. This left quite a few open seats to choose from. Merlin gave off a small smile as he walked though the sea of desks. He decided to stop and sit at a desk that had two openings on both ends. He took off his cloak and laid it behind him. He then leaned back and waited for class to start.

[Assistant]
Greyson groaned a little seeing how he just asked Pricilla out of the blue right after she got upset. Damn It! Greyson was a little angry not knowing that it was that easy to do it! Greyson took a breath and finished his food calming down slightly so the others wouldn't notice, right now Greyson needed to get to the next class which was grimm studies hoping against hope that Pricilla will be their with him without Robert but it was unlikely considering that their were only two classes to take for 4th period and Greyson didn't see any reason to go and be in the Armory class when his blade was badass all on its own.

When Greyson heard that Robert was going to grimm studies though his hope fell right down the toilet. Greyson sighed a little and put on a smile "well guys I think we should be heading to class, by the way Robert I got grimm studies to so why don't we head their?" Greyson said hoping he will get Robert away from Pricilla at least for a little bit by trying to get him away from Pricilla, Greyson felt like he loved Pricilla but Damn it if Greyson wasn't a coward when it came to women. He could take on that giant bull with a laugh and a smile but when it came to women he froze in his tracks, damn that was sad...

[User]
"No problem. That is quite a youth." Marcus commented as he grabbed a sandwich off his plate. He nodded towards the others.

"Excuse me, I need to take a different route to class." he apologised and left in a different direction.

Armory class was situated next to the large general purpose shooting range. This had a few benefits that ranged from a good view outside to a place to try out new creations somewhat safely. Most importantly for Marcus the classroom had a large hangar door that lead to said shooting range. The normally ferocious roar of Unsubtle's engine was reduced to a deeper, throaty growl as he slowly guided it across the grounds. Marcus stood upright in the turret, poking his head out of the top hatch as he rode. The doors were technically large enough to fit through but on either side there would be barely a hand's width to spare.

Only once he was parked inside and no longer threatening to run over important things like walls or other students did he take a good look around. He was at one end of a massive room, with a set of workbenches between Unsubtle and the classroom proper. At the classroom end he could spot Oswald, Geni, and several others. Notable surprises were Shiro and some new girl with a rather interesting choice of clothes. He busied himself with clambering out before his stare could be interpreted as rude. Taking the seat next to Shiro that was not yet occupied he nodded towards the faunus.

"G'day. Interesting weapon set, they combine?" he said by way of opening. Slots in the shield appeared a match for several bumps in the non bladed edge of the sword, however Marcus would need to get a look at the internals to figure out the exact mechanism.

[Assistant]
Mokuren waltzed into the Armory class, quite literally. She liked dancing, almost as much as she liked stalking her prey before devouring them entirely. This class, while nothing to her usually, was where Geni was learning how to stave off death for another day. Mokuren didn't need to learn about armory, she had Sarasagi and it was a perfect weapon, for slicing up irritating people who was so stupid and pampered.

She entered the room, spotted her target, and stalked up to him with as much feline grace as a Fox could muster. She swished her tail a bit after she arrived, and stared at him. Her tail was so adorable that it would distract anyone who cared to stare deep into it's furry beauty for any longer than a moment. Brandishing Sarasagi very obviously, she spoke.
"Good morning Geni. How are you?" She asked, like a fox asked a chicken before the chase began.

[User]
The thoughts that passed through Ben's head could best be termed as dull bemusement. He had been settling into his seat and digging out something to take notes on when Sangue appeared, taking a seat right next to him. Without much warning, or comment. The team leader was still a moment. Then he blinked, and his normal behavior resumed, almost as though nothing was even remotely unusual. He set his notebook on his desk and glanced at Sangue, nodding.

"That's part of its purpose. Don't remember how the course descriptor said it, but it's supposed to teach us to understand what it is we're supposed to fight." Scrawling the date in the upper right of his notebook he paused again, giving her a slight grin. "You're Sangue, right? I don't think we've been introduced, formally, at least."

"Hey Trad." He raised a hand in greeting at the second member of BAST, smiling cheerfully. He was, to be honest, pretty aware of what was going through Trad's head. Were it Amy, or anyone else really, he might have made a joke along the same lines. But, unexpected though it was, this was the first time Sangue had really spoken to any of them all day. Probably the best opportunity to establish a relationship he'd get.


[System]
Gender: M

Age: 26

Career/Class:Soldier / Ex-Soldier

Weapons:
* Basket Hilted Broadsword
* Imperial Dagger
* Norscan round Shield (Took from his first felled enemy)
* Aged Pistol

Physical Description Cyrdic is tall and lean, but solidly built, standing an inch over 6 feet in height. His eyes are reminiscent of shaped wrought iron. His face is ruddy and echoes a youthful appearance, though battles and training had roughed him into the look of a mature soldier. He has quite the rugged quality about him. Two scars mar his face. One parallel to the bottom of his left eye, and another scraping across his right jawline. His legs are long and his his facial hair is only a coarse, 5'oclock shadow thanks to his knife. He's clad in fine and tough leather over a chainmail hauberk, with sturdy traveling shoes and a worn belt.

Mental Description/Personality: Cyrdic isn't a fool. He spent a year apprenticed to a Quartermaster (as punishment for recklessness) and learned how to read and write (to a degree). The best way to describe him would be a hardened, rough soldier at the brink of his youth. He'll use what he can in his disposal to win, though half the time it turns out he'll need to fuck someone up anyway. His fierce independence and rough nature can only be matched by his determination to survive. He's not tactically intelligent, but he has a sense of how battlefields shift and can command smaller troops with his powerful voice. He tends to have a take-no-shit (unless it's from a superior officer) lookout on life. He's amiable to certain people however, and will have a dry wit around those he enjoys (or to people he wishes he could be more honest with). While fighting and killing and marching has been his entire life, he's not particularly fond of being thrust into impossible situations and doesn't lack a healthy sense of self preservation. He's gotten quite tired of working for corrupt officers. He's a devout Sigmarite thanks to his upbringing, and has a hammer chained necklace upon his breast to signify this.

[User]
Cyrdic stepped over the last gnarled root of the forest, and found himself out of the Ostland treeline and within the crags of the Middle Mountains. The peaks loomed above him, and the boulders and lesser mounts that jutted out of the earth stood like watchful sentinels in the afternoon sun. He decided he should enjoy its warmth while it lasted. The clouds rolling in from the east threatened a storm.

The rugged youth turned around and held out a hand to help up his new companion, lifting her up easily if she took his offer. He was still unsure of his company. He'd never traveled, or barely even spoken to a beautiful courtesan before. He'd met this one once or twice in the courts of Wurzen. Despite his initial mistrust of her, he honestly didn't think she had anything to do with the count's death, just as he didn't. He was old fashioned, but even he wasn't going to shirk an adventure partner who knew how to duel simply because she was a woman. And how could he leave her behind to die?

They'd been lucky not to run into more than three Forest Goblins eating their dinner. Dispatching them quickly, the past two days had been quietly sneaking through the forest with the utmost care to keep away from roving herds of Beastman, and giant spiders.

"With luck, we'll get through the mountain passes in a day or two and end up on the Talabec," he breathed.

[Assistant]
Camilla blew out an irritable breath, blowing a stray lock of her raven hair clear of her face as she grabbed the young Seargent arm and clambered from the treeline into the pale afternoon sun. Her feet hurt abominably, twigs and bits of branches from the forest were tangled in her hair and she didn't even want to think about what she smelled like. Cydric himself smelled like a cross between an iron works and an slaughter house, the aftermath of the skirmish with goblins still fragrant.

A few days ago they had been at the court in Wurzen, living in relative luxury, she had been a 'companion' of the counts son Otto, an ornament to the court. Now Otto's was the Count and he was in no doubt about who had murdered his father. In her heart of hearts Camilla wondered if he had murdered the old man so he could inherit and was now going through the charade of being outraged. Such things were common in Tilea, but she didn't think it was the style here in the Empire.

"We... we can climb those?" she asked incredulously, turning her eyes up to the enormity of the mountains. White snow glistened on the tops of peaks which seemed to scrape the sky. She pulled her improvised cloak around her body. She had been forced to flee in clothing that... well it wouldn't have been suitable even in private for most people. She had supplied the lack with trousers, far too big, and a shirt which she kept belted around her waist with a strip of her previous silken garment. Both items were on loan from Cydric. Completing the ensemble was a horse blanket that they had found in a saddlebag, before they had been forced to abandon their horses to escape Otto's men. The heavy wollen material was fastened around her neck with a repurposed silver chain, another part of her oh so alluring outfit.

It was a genuine question, not a sarcastic rebuke, she had thought that Cydric was insane to suggest going through the forest on foot and had told him so in no uncertain, and not particularly flattering terms. None the less he had been correct, it had been nearly a day since they heard any sound of pursuit from the Ostlanders. A crude horn sounded somewhere far off, not an Imperial instrument, something cruder, perhaps more of the greenskins, or the animal mutants Otto had so frequently boasted of slaying. Camilla hoped that they hadn't traded one set of hunters for another.

"The..." she struggled for the word, "Weather, it does not look good," her accent made it sound more like 'Wee ther'. She cast a glance back at the forbidding forest. A second blast of the horn sounded and she couldn't tell if it was closer or further away. It didn't look like there would be much choice.

[User]
"No, Fraulien," he began, then questioned his choice of addressing her. Sigmar knew he wasn't used to speaking with higher class people, save for his military superior. "Er, your ladyship I mean. We'll not climb them. There should be a pass through the mountains going south. Once we get through it, Wolfenburg will be to our left and Middenland will be to our right, but there's a dark forest we'd need to cut our way through if we chose that route to Middenland."

Images of Goblins riding on Spiders the size of houses crossed through his mind, but he shook those dark thoughts away. No need to scare the lady. "So instead we'll go straight south. Board passage on the River Eiskalt by Wolfenburg, hit the Talabec and go east. We'll be much closer to Middenheim then. Or Marienburg for that matter..." Cyrdic trailed off, and ran a thumb over the fresh cut on his cheek, courtesy of one of the Goblins he killed.

He'd never been to Marienburg. Sigmar, he'd never been to most of the Empire, much less outside of it. Ostland, Ostermark, Nordland...where else? Damned if I take the effort to recall now. Get your ass moving, he scolded himself. Immediately his mind whirled back to the task at hand, his iron eyes steeled once more. The horn that blasted behind them only punctuated his point. "Follow me," he told Camilla, and hefted his pack and weapons as he moved forward ahead of her. The young Ex-sergeant had been worked like an Ox for most of his life, in his father's shop, and then as a soldier. Marching was one skill he could do.

The towering Mountains closed in around them as they waded into the passes deeper. At first Cyrdic felt at ease to be out of the forest, yet soon he found the lack of visibility beyond a slope of one of the peaks almost suffocating. The Thunder just above them was the nail in the coffin, and soon it began to rain, pounding down harder than a Brettonian cavalry charge. He pushed onward, his brown hair matting. To their left, small rocks began to skid, and then crumble to roll down the mountain. Nothing too dangerous, but it served as a warning they needed to find shelter, and soon.

[Assistant]
Camilla's eyes glazed over slightly at the sergeants description of the places that lay ahead of them. To here they sounded like a confusing melange of half known images and markings on old maps in Otto's bedchambers. Marienburg she did recognize though, the great entrepot was famous throughought the known world. There would be ships there that could carry them wherever the wished to go. Irrationally, and for no more reason than its familiarity, she settled Marienburg as their destination. There, they were going to Marienburg. For whatever reason that little bit of resolution made her feel better.

"Anyone that rescues me from a suspicious murder, drags me through the forest and splatters me with Golbin brains can call me Camilla," she ventured in the spirit of new found boldness, her full lips twitching into a mischievous smile.

For a long time they climbed into the mountains. The rain, a particular misery in the already cool weather, began to fall in a heavy deluge. In short order it became hard to move safely, though with her acrobat trained reflexes she managed the task better than the Imperial. After endless minutes of sodden misery, she nearly tripped in a shallow and unexpected trough in the stone. Her eyes followed the flow of water, expecting it to run down of one of the near vertical rock faces surrounding them. To her surprise it didn't.

"Cydric," she all but shouted over the thunder of the rain, her Tilean accent rendering the words as closer to Sit-Rick. When he turned his head she stretched out her arm and pointed her finger. Across the narrow defile water was gouting from under a slight overhang. Over the years it had warn a slight trough into the stone, it must be more noticeable when there wasn't an inch of water slouching over everything. Water shouldn't flow from UNDER a ledge. In her misery she was unsure of what she would find, but none the less trudged towards the ledge, it might at least provide some shelter if the torrent dislodged further rocks, Ranald For-fend.

Reaching the ledge ahead of the Imperial she stepped under, it was only a few feet wide and provided little cover from the wind driven rain. What she did find was an old masonry work. A cylinder of fitted stones serving as a down pipe, brining water down from above. She frowned, unable to determine the purpose of such a device. Gingerly she reached her hand forward to the moss surrounding the pipe and pulled it away. To her surprise there was a small void between the pipe and the stone of the cliff. Perhaps they could widen it to make an opening for the two of them?

She turned and pointed to Cydric, shouting above the near deafening drum of rain.

"It is a passage of some sort, the pipe must be draining something!" she screamed through cupped hands.

[User]
Cyrdic had pressed forward like the draft-horse he was often compared to on campaign, eyes steeled and youthful visage grim against the weather. He wasn't as agile as the beauty he traveled with, but he had steady feet and kept to it best he could through the uneven crags and torrents of water spilling down the mountains around them. His thoughts were more concerned with keeping course, and keeping his companion safe.

Not out of any feelings or desires any man might have with Camilla. I'll need to get used to calling her that, he thought. Sigmar knew he thought she was pretty, but it wasn't that... He had almost grinned when she insisted on him referring to her as her name. It made him feel like he was actually traveling with a comrade rather than the damsel she seemed. At the end of the day, that was what mattered. He was a military man, and he looked after his comrades.

He was broken out of his staunch reverie by her screaming his name, and whirled, expecting danger. It took him a moment to calm and realize what she'd found. He approached through the soaked, broken rocks and found himself standing next to her, looking at a strange device. "Stand back!" he roared over the maelstrom, and felt along the stone work around what he guessed was a pipe. He'd seen a few used for sewage in the few cities he'd visited.

His callused hands rubbed along the coarse stonework, until they ran over something smooth and intricate. Immediately he traced along it, bending down to see where it would lead. His vision was blurred by the rain, but he felt he could see what looked like a design upon the rock, moving left. He sidestepped and followed it, approaching the next bluff. He halted before he made it to the jutting rock. The sudden stop made his feet skid over the stone ground below, but he caught himself on an outstretched stone. He grabbed it automatically, and to his surprise, the stone held for only a moment. Then the weight of his hand sent it hanging limply from the mountain like a broken branch.

"What in the hell?" He muttered, before a torrent of water from above gushed over him, drenching him as if he had just submerged into a pool. He was temporarily blinded, and did not see the door before him initially open. Once he wiped his eyes and hair, the broad shouldered Imperial was starring at a dimly lit corridor, uniform in design, with ornate carvings and designs laid about in patterns within. He didn't even think, and turned to pull Camilla in with him, stepping into the stuffy, but very dry shelter they now had.


[System]
Nickname(s): Cae, or Little Cae by her family elders.

Gender: Female

Age: 11

House: Hufflepuff

Appearance:

A thin little thing with dusty ginger skin and a button nose. Her long nappy hair is carefully braided and twisted, sometimes it is left dangling about her shoulders, sometimes coiled up into a bun, crown, or other interesting arrangement.

At 11 years old she is a stick, with no womanly curves to speak of. She will try to make up for what she 'lacks' with a daring shade of lipgloss, a black-winged eye, or a set of heels. She has a fashion sense and an eye for detail that is more mature than most her age (which the uniform robes will certainly dampen).

Wand: Wood of yew with core of Kelpie Hair.

Pet: None

Strengths:
- Visual Arts: A talented artist, she will not be seen without a pen or pencil in her hand. She has had a lot of practice and is quite advanced in muggle art techniques, but none of wizards.
- Detail oriented: Her eye for artistic detail translates to other aspects of her life. Small things make a huge difference to her. She has a nearly photographic memory. Words, numbers, and names all stay neatly organized in her head.
- Well mannered: The well socialized young woman knows her manners and etiquette, and knows what is appropriate in various social settings. She is not shy to meet or talk to anyone, and is even comfortable around adults and authority figures, unlike others her age, she might have a leg up in social situations.

Weaknesses: Superficial and vain.
- Vain: Growing up the daughter of a plastic surgeon and a model, Caelum was taught that making sure you look good is perhaps the most important part of your day. She will spend a lot of time and energy on her appearance, and judge others by theirs.
- Superficial: Caelum was well socialized by her mother, but she met many people without knowing them very well. So her social interactions with others have rarely gone past surface conversation. She will have trouble establishing deeper relationships with others, as she is accustomed to superficial acquaintances.
- Weak willed: Caelum speaks volume with her pencil but softly with her voice. She will not assert herself or confront another. She would rather do as they say, or avoid the trouble. This makes her somewhat easy to manipulate, as she would rather not fight back or be contrary to a stronger personality.

Personality:
Cae is eager to learn and very talented. She has a bit of an ego, and is very critical of herself and others, particularly when it comes to appearances. In that way she is superficial. She grew up seeing adults with many acquaintances but no close or permanent connections. The most important quality of others is what they could do or their status in society, not who they were inside. This perspective makes it difficult for her to relate to others on a deeper level, and also reflects in her art. She is very good technically but often her work lacks 'soul' or an emotional quality.

History:
Caelum was raised in London. Her father is a plastic surgeon and her mother a model, both muggle and ignorant of the wizarding world. They believed in magic abstractly. Her father made 'magic' happen with his medical instruments, and her mother made 'magic' happen with her body and a camera. 'Little Cae' made 'magic' with her crayons. That was all they knew until an owl delivered a letter to Cae in their high rise apartment…

Her mother and father divorced when she was very young. Her father took full custody, though she saw her mother very often. Her parents get along well, while her mother remarried twice after and is currently single. Her father never remarried, he is an introvert who mostly keeps to himself and keeps busy. He entertains the occasional girlfriend, but nothing that lasts more than a few months. Her mother has a large network of friends and toted 'Little Cae' along on countless fashion shows, gallery openings, concerts, films, holiday parties, so on and so forth. Cae quickly developed self control obtained only by children who spend too much time with adults.

Unlike her mother, Cae is introverted. She loved going places with her mother but preferred to stay quiet and watch. She always brought along a little designer purse full of crayons and paper, keeping herself quietly occupied with doodling. Her doodling became quite good as she got older, and her mother knew plenty of artists to mentor her young talent. Crayons turned to color pencils, which turned to watercolors and acrylic...

Her parents had been considering sending Caelum to a private arts-focused school when they got the letter.

At first Cae did not want to go to 'Hogwarts'. If it was so great why hadn't they heard of it? Besides, she wanted to be an artist not a magician. (Caelum thought it was some sort of stage-magician's school. She had met a few magicians, and saw through all their tricks! She certainly did NOT want to be like them!)

Then then the neighbors from downstairs showed up. Impeccable timing. They were there to congratulate Little Cae on 'getting her letter'. 'But how did you know?' her parents asked. 'Why, we saw the owl! We knew it had to be for little Cae!' The neighbors downstairs were kind but they never spoke much. Firstly because in the city it is customary to ignore your neighbors, and secondly they always seemed a bit strange. They were unnerved to hear that Cae did not want to go, and invited her over for tea to talk it over. They claimed to be wizards themselves, and promised that they were not stage magicians.

They showed Cae what Wizard artwork looked like. Moving paintings. Caelum was amazed. It did not seem like making a cartoon, it seemed like making something alive.

Cae instantly changed her mind. She wanted to learn magic for herself and how to make her own paintings alive.

NPCs:

Gregory Liquin: Father, muggle, a successful cosmetic surgeon. Serious and even tempered. Wealthy, handsome and refined. Cae lives with her father, who supports her in all her endeavors.

Cindy Lquin: Mother, muggle, a model and actress. Outgoing and gorgeous. Spunky and Sexy. Cae does not live with her mother but sees her very often and go out on weekend shopping trips, parties, and trendy cafes.

[User]
The flames were engulfing everything around him and the teacher, getting closer and closer each second. He was struggling to keep himself and the teacher safe from the flames, and just as he was about to give up, when another boy came to his aid. He was a Slytherin, he recognized him before, before all this happened. He couldn't pinpoint his name, but he was just glad he was helping him. The two first years still struggles, but they moved slightly faster with two people carrying the teacher. They were finally nearing the group.

A couple of trees in the way caused them to turn, putting Faniel with his back to the flames. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a figure emerge from the flames. Looking over he saw that it was one of the attackers. The flames, moved away from his as he walked through them, as if he had an invisible shield around him. He lifted his wand up, not pointed at Dan, but at the other boy helping him. He heard him mutter a word.

He couldn't make out what he said, but before he knew it, A bolt of red light shot from his wand heading towards the Slytherin. He (carefully) dropped the teachers upper body, running over to the other side. His wand arm crossed over his chest, with his wand barely catching the spell on its tip. For the second the spell hund on the tip of Daniel's wand, words echoed through his mind.

You've got to mean it. Dan flung the spell back with such power and speed the attacker had no time to react. He met the spell with a scream, and an even louder scream as he landed in the flames as they seemed to engulf him. Dan couldn't tell for sure, he could have use the shield he had around him before to escape. The rest of the group was close enough to see what happened, and Daniel worried. He had just, probably, killed someone. He worried for a second, before his mind shifted back to the now struggling Slytherin first year. His body resumed shaking as he carried the body. Once finally back to the castle, he placed her down outside on the grass, yelling for medical help. As he waited his mind drifted off to nothingness, and he was on his knees on the grass. His hair was a mess, his arms and face were decorated in cuts and scrapes, robes were torn, and hands covered in blood, but how he looked wa nothing compared to how he felt inside. He might have killed someone. The horrible words kept echoing in his mind.

You've got to mean it.

[Assistant]
The potion on Cassandra's wound fizzled, the bleeding seemed to slow then. The student had guessed correctly! The potion had been intended for smaller field wounds than the one Cassandra now had. Yet, it would still do her good. She did not awaken yet from consciousness.

Moirah screeched and ducked her head, following the group back toward the castle. She saw Dan counter a spell and... Did Dan just kill[/i] someone? Was the groundskeeper already dead? Her mind was full of curse why were they being attacked? Was this some cruel joke by the administration in order to teach them their lesson? They should not have been punished for getting into a fight, they should be punished for not winning... Upperclass Slytherin were nothing compared to whoever was striking at them now! Who knew how rough her education would be so quickly...

[User]
Richard

"I'm going to fuck you up!" Richard was shouting as he emerged from the smoke, already waving his wand. He didn't point it at the masked figure, though, but swung it in an arc in front of him, in the general direction of the canopy above.
A path of leaves were transfiguring into shining steel, their new weight dragging them down and breaking them from their branches. They didn't fall directly at Darius, but around and behind him, cutting off his escape as Richard fired a bright stunning spell at him.

Thankfully for Darius, he had plenty of time to prepare for this attack - the boy before him hadn't tried to hide his approach in the slightest.
Deflecting the spell with ease, Darius was now stood, mask on and facing the furious newcomer. He tutted lightly, waving his wand at Caelum to let the roots ease off - she slumped to the floor, unconscious.
"Now, now. Language! There are children present." Darius said smoothly, allowing his native european accent to come through fully. Although it didn't sound like this in his day to day life, he didn't particularly want this one remembering what his voice sounded like. Especially with the plan that Romanov had instigated.
Wasting no more time on idle chatter, Darius moved swiftly, whipping his wand in a fast motion and sending stunning spells back towards Richard - then directing his wand at the steel branches.
Bombarda Maxima! He hissed, the spell barreling through the branches, scorching the trees in the process.

Richard did almost a pirouette to dodge around the stunners, but Darius had brought his attention to the child on the ground and as his right side faced her, he flicked his wand. The ground swallowed her up, and something like a rabbit burrow in old cartoons appeared in the ground as she was pulled away from the action in a subterranean air bubble.
But Richard's divided attention halted his dodge and as his charm spirited Caelum away, one of the stunners exploded against his shoulder mid-turn.
He collapsed to his knees, eyes closed as his head fell. He thought he had managed to remain conscious, but when he looked up, the masked man was gone and there was no sign of his accomplices. Judging by the spreading fire, he might have been out for as long as two minutes.

He needed to cut his losses and retrieve the rescued student, but as he turned to go back to where he'd set up defenses, he was faced with fire. He waved his wand, and just as he'd transfigured the hydrogen to start the fire, he transfigured the air into carbon dioxide to suffocate it. It dwindled and died in seconds, and he approached the makeshift battlements through the ashes and smoke.

Caelum was tucked neatly in a bubble of earth, under the roots of a tree, and another quick spell dislodged her, dirty but apparently unharmed. He picked her up and walked past the clearing, seeking the group at large.

[Assistant]
"Look!" Moirah gasped and pointed. "There they are!" She saw Richard carrying the unconscious Caelum.

She was covered in dirt, she was unconscious, but she was breathing and in one piece... She even began to stir then. Everything hurt so she only looked around briefly, relieved to see familiar faces.

The students headed toward the castle, but they did not appear to be perused. The noise and lights behind them faded, Charlie came last. He was the last one fighting it seemed, his opponent eventually running away from him.

"Coward ran off." Charlie scowled, his wand was ready and he gaurded the rear of the retreat back to Hogwarts.

~~~

Once they reached the castle it did not take long to communicate that something terribly wrong had happened during this detention.

Every teacher was awakened, and assigned to either patrol the hallways and grounds or to search the woods.

Most students were already in their dorms, but, all stragglers and night owls were directed back to their dorms.

All the detained students were whisked to the medical ward to be attended to be white smocked witches and wizards. They were made to stay in the ward overnight and were not admitted back to their houses and regular rooms.

Caelum took the opposite strategy. She did not sleep, but lay with her eyes closed, trying to rest, trying to block everything out of her mind... Moirah was making that particularly difficult...

Moirah, who was unhurt, was quite fidgety. She couldn't stick to her bed, she paced around the small room of the medical wing they had all be boarded up in. She tapped her feet, muttered every so often, and was generally annoying to anyone trying to mellow out after their harrowing experience.


[System]
Age/Race/Gender: 24/Human/Male

Appearance: 5'9" tall, 120 kgs, semi muscular build with long dyed hair coloured black with neon orange streaks.

Occupation: Arsonist

Weapons:
The VC1 Flamethrower is highly valued by planetary militia when fighting local wildlife. It is also highly sought after by pirates and mercenaries who are going to fight on ships or in close wuarters. It is designed to destroy shields and to cook people inside their armour. However, if the armour and person inside still hold, Hadrian uses his holdout weapon.

The M4 Revolver is one of the most highly powerful handguns made commercially. Accurate up to 50 metres and and able to punch throigh most armour, this weapon is beloved by outlaws and lawmen alike. Take care of it, it takes care of you.

Armor:
The HG19 ballistic armour is especially built for harsh environments and to protect the user. It can stop a hail of bullets, stop the person inside from burning alive from extreme heat and allow them to walk in freezing cold temperatures without getting frostbite. It is armoured and does not come with shields.

Items: Spare parts for his weapons, such as gas tanks.

His helmet has an inbuilt system that allows him to see his surroundings in any given light.

Has one hard copy of the Anarchists cook book, complete with his own personal edits, diagrams and notes.

Skills: He is able to burn anything with even the most basic of tools.
He is also a damn fine cook and is able to cook fine food for most humanoid races.
Knows sign language.

Powers: N/A

Other: He rarely takes off all of his armour at any given point. He only removes it when in his own quarters, otherwise he usually wears the chest pieces of his armour.

[User]
Maverick and SAL had stood by silently as the shuttles arrived one by one. When they had all gathered and Captain Dawson began speaking, Grayson blinked twice to engage the cybernetics in his eye, and sized up everyone in the room. The soldiers were no threat, a few had minor cyber-mods, but apart from that, they were all human. He scanned each of his new teammates for weak points, smiling as he compiled information in case any of them ever turned on him. The Funganoid spoke up to the abrasive tone of their supposed squad leader. Maverick chuckled as muttered sideways at SAL.

"This'll be good"

---

"Sorry you shitlord, I'm gonna be in your way the entire damn time this project is going on. Better learn how to tolerate me now you bastard."
Stryker rounded on the Funganoid and marched over, one hand still firmly on his pistol's grip. He grabbed Tibulus' shoulder and pulled him close to the visor of his mask, whispering so none of the others would hear.

"You're the volunteer then? You must be insane, or a little empty up there, no one volunteers for a job like this. I'm a nice guy, so I'll give you a little advice. Change your tone when dealing with this lot. They're not as forgiving as me, they're dangerous, and won't hesitate to take you out at the smallest slight. Now that son of a bitch Dawson stuck me on this crew, and honestly I just planned on sticking myself in the cockpit, sealing the door and waiting this disaster out, but since you're here, that's out the window. I don't care if you like me or not, hell maybe I'll even co-pilot for free, but if you have another outburst like that in front of the crew, all you'll be piloting is the transport shuttle, got it?"

[Assistant]
Location: City of Jungenbru, planet Taranese.
Date: 3rd of February, 2162.

It was a busy marketplace, in the middle of a big city. People talked loudly, cars drove by both on the ground and in the air, chatter loud as people bought their varying wares and laughed happily in the bright city. This was one of the happier places in the galaxy, far from conflict and terrifying ordeals. In among these walked a tall woman in black, an alien with white skin and black eyes, carrying a weapon on her back. But, this wasn't unusual. Bounty hunter, perhaps, this place was filled with aliens as it was and she wasn't one of the worst offenders. She was speaking to someone, and it was reported that she placed a hand on his forehead, since this struck those who watched as just the slightest strange.

Then the woman, in a single deft movement, reached behind her with her free hand and grabbed her halberd before swinging it in a flawless slice which cleaved the man's throat. He died immediately and fell back as a string of blood launched into the air from the woman's sharp blade. Multiple screams were let out around her, and people called for the police. The woman was utterly calm, despite the action she had just committed and the screams of the terrified crowd around her. Police weren't far away, and arrived directing their weapons at her, telling her to stand down. She pushed them back and off their feet with but a motion of her hand, using psionics. They started firing. The woman deftly dodged, in a way that seemed impossible, like she knew where they'd shoot, before she closed the distance and hacked at them with her halberd.

That day, their police force was left decimated. The woman darted from officer to officer, cutting them, incapacitating them so they fell bleeding and screaming onto the ground. The ground and surroundings quickly became stained with red. When reinforcement came, they found her stained with blood and standing with her halberd raised over a sea of injured, screaming and bleeding police officers. And if that wasn't bone-chilling enough, the woman was smiling. A creepy, pleased and ill-fit smile, as if she was proud of herself or simply enjoying the sound of the screams which surrounded her. With this, it came as no illusion to the police that they needed help. A bounty was quickly put on her head.

With the bounty that was put on her head, a chase instigated. Yet, tracking her down seemed to always end up with blood spilled all over the ground around her before she fled again. Soon enough she vanished from the planet, just as more extreme measures were being put into motion, the law enforcements lamenting their inability to defeat the threat. And this one incident… was only the beginning of what would amount to the reputation of one of the deadliest criminals in the galaxy…

______

Location: Chronos Station
Date: Today (19th of August, 2166?)

And here she stood. In among these soldiers in armor suitable for the age and with blaster-weapons for shooting purposes or what-have-you-not other things, stood also a tall woman in what appeared to be medieval armor with gems attached to it. Lataniva listened, her skin unnaturally white and eyes black, in her armor, spikes going a bit of everywhere from it. Here and there on the armor were gems, including one on the headband that held her long black hair directed backwards. On her back was a long halberd, with small blades on the end, strapped to her back. She might have looked strangely out-of-place.

Some here may know her reputation. If nobody else, bounty hunters should know her, for a price has long rested on her head.

… would know of several instances where she has been reported to have killed and maimed people as well as law enforcement for little to no reason. Multiple bounty hunters that have gone after her are known to never have returned. Her reputation paints her as a savage murderess with powerful psionic powers, not to be underestimated. Last known location, Deadzone, working with criminal organizations. She kind of dropped off the map recently, random deaths not too unlikely in the Deadzone so it wasn't too unlikely she had been assassinated somewhere, but here she is.

She listened with a blank, almost mildly bored-looking expression as she looked at Dawson. This was information she already knew. Then, it was over to Stryker. He made it clear he had no intention of making friends. Didn't bother Lataniva too much. She understood. For the moment, there was nothing immediate she felt like commenting on, for now she would stand and listen. For now.

[User] The Funganoid chuckled at the thought of volunteering for this. This was a prickly bounty hunter, and one that might not like being taken for the edgy scum that Tibulus saw deep within him. Tibulus responded to the angered bounty hunter with a slight tone of sarcasm and a pinch of smartass. "Heh. I'm not volunteering to do this. Volunteering is unpaid work, if you forgot that. I'd also like to see you try taking down something that's already deceased, I really look forward to it. This being said, I'd rather not have to feel the simulated pain you'd attempt to bring onto me, and as such, I'm going to stand down and let you simply go wallow in your own self-absorbed past. You don't get in my way with what I'm doing, and I'll stay out of yours with what you're doing. As long as we both do these things, we're cool." A small jolt of electricity pierced through the jumpsuit and shocked Stryker as the Funganoid finished his sermon, and with that, the skeleton leaned back on the crate and continued to smoke his cigar. "Oh, and you'd be the one piloting the transport shuttle, not me."

[Assistant]
Location: Golat III
Golat III was renowned as being an extremely hot planet, with long hot days and short freezing cold nights. Despite this it was also know to be a large hotspot for illegal trade and under the table deals. This was because no law enforcement was on the planet that wasn't lazy or being bribed, and any orbital scans wouldn't work that well.

But, despite the heat there was one man out and about, and he didn't seem to be that effected by the heat. He was out there because he was looking for a certain building. He found it, and it was an old nightclub, or at least that what the owners wanted people to think. In reality it was a giant warehouse full of illicit items, drugs, guns etc. All worth a fortune.

All highly flammable.

A security camera caught the whole thing from outside saw what happened. The man in the armour kicked open the door and used his flamethrower on the opening. Fire and smoke obscured most of what happened on the inside, but according to most reports, the attack lasted about five minutes and about twenty bodies were found inside.

It was unknown however who the victims were, as the bodies were too scorched for facial recognition and all DNA was destroyed. But eveeryone was sure that the man with the flamer made it out alive, mainly because the cameras showed him leaving the building, dragging an unknown person behind them in one hand, and a large case in the other.

---

Location: Chronos Station
Hadrian was stood on the loading deck along with the others. He was there because after the incident on Golat III Hadrian was approached by some spook working for some governemnt agency that he immediately forgot what it was called.

They made him a very interesting offer. They wanted him to work on some top secret project, work with other bad people to do bad stuff for a quote 'good cause' as they called it. In exchange, protection for what he did in the past to all those other nasty people.

They also offered him something he had been looking for for the longest time. Information. He has looked for this info for a while now, he has tried many times to acquire it and many means to do so, everything from bribery to torture. And yet nobody told him, until now. All he had to do was be patient and keep killing people. It suited him fine, even if they lied about what they had, they knew something. And if meant going to war with an entire govenrment, so be it.

Meanwhile he had to put up with this lot. There seemed to be a few who thought themselves better than the rest. Like they shit gold rather than actual shit. You could practically see the dick measuring going on. But, he decided not to get involved with that. Ge would try and be somewhat friendly with the others, hell he had even heard of a few of these people and was impressed that the spooks had convinced them to tag along on their weird ass project.

Underneath his helmet he smiled a bit and decided to try and see if anyone was willing to be reasonable, at peast with him. He cleared his throat a bit and spoke as loudly as he could.

"Ladies and gentleman, I am sorry to bother you, but I am the ships chef. So, if there is any dietary requirements you have, anything you are allergic to or anything that you would like me to cook for you, please let me know. Thank you for your time."


[System]
Age: 38
Skills: A great sense of humor, a abilty to turn a crew to help him, Grand piolting skills, Diplomacy, A calm head, Fighting like a gent
Magic: He can slow time as to see it all, mainly only used when piloting a ship or in battle
Equipment: Sky iron plate mail (Like a kevlar vest, protects the front and back with plate and the sides with chain, its a vest though), Sky Iron leg plates, Copper monocle with adjustable sight (Only up to 2x zoom), Black Top hat, Red officers coat with a gold trim (Look a a redcoats coat and think more fancy) White riding trousers with Black knee high boots, Light brown sweeping hair, Deep brown eyes, Thin looking trim, White silk scarf around his neck with weathered storm goggles around his neck. Brown leather driving gloves, he carries on his back a large musket with the letters "SL LT C 'Hatter' Richardson Diamond Musket Company" it shows signs of lots wear and its wood has lost all signs of varnish (The musket is more of a repeaters, fires either normal rounds in a clip of 12 or explosive rounds in a clip of 5. Very rare gun), He has two basic looking muskets with the same lettering on the side (Fires ball bareings) and Straped on his leg is a sword painted in streaks of gold and blue.
Short Bio: LT Richardson has had a fine life, born to a high society family he lived in the last years of darkness. As a child he was obsessed with the world, seeing all the prototype ships flying past. He knew he had to join, luckerly for him he was a teenager during the turn of the century, a the time there was a huge call for adventurers to discover the lands beyond the horizon. He decided to see the world with a crew so joined the 23rd skylarks, a rag tag group of vagabonds and fruit cakes. It was amazing. But now the world is closing in on him and he needs to see what has happened beyond the mists and for that. He needs you! ((I know its bad but I want some mystery and I am tired when I wrote this.)
Other:

[User]
Titan had tried to be as least threatening as he could, but such a feat was hard for the large man to pull off. How was he to convince this girl that he wasn't a threat? She had seen hard times, that he could tell with a closer glance than previously had been allowed. He cleared his throat, hoping to catch the attention of the tailor. Perhaps with another person in the room, she might relax. When she had momentarily coiled, Titan was sure the small girl would attack him there and then. Yet, she visibly seemed to reign herself in, knowing the limitations of the situation.

Her suspicion meant she had known she had caught his interest and that he'd kept eyes on her. Whether she knew it was truly him was another matter, but he assumed that she had her own accurate guess. This was good, for Titan had no time for fools. "Unfortunately, I do not. But no shop will give you clothes on credit or... be particularly grateful for suddenly missing inventory." His deep baritone filled the empty shop with sound, a smile apparent in the tone of his voice. He ventured deeper into the store, looking at a particular fabric that had indeed caught his eyes. He noted strands of metal sewn into the roll. That would make good material for additional pockets. "I do know of a pawnshop that could help you, but the owner isn't there right now either. He's... taken my warning and left before things become.. troublesome, in the marketplace." He let his fingers fall from the unique fabric. Titan turned towards the girl and held out his hand in a friendly gesture.

"I am Rafael. And you are?.." Titan asked, letting the question hang in the air, waiting for her answer.

[Assistant]
She pursed her lips again in disappointment when he replied to her second question. Back to square one, then. With his next sentence she realised she may not have been so successful in hiding her intentions earlier and he made it quite clear that he probably wouldn't just let her take something from the shop. She smirked mischievously then flashed a toothy grin, like a child who'd been caught reaching for the cookie jar but knew there'd be no punishment for the crime had not yet been committed. If he'd paid attention, he might have noticed her canines seemed filed to a point, though only for the instance of that grin, for somehow it was not visible otherwise. Most would assume they had imagined it.

She watched him curiously as he fondled a metallic piece of cloth. The more she interacted with him, the less threatening he became. In fact, he seemed to be making a visible effort not to intimidate her, despite his obvious ability to fight from the weapons he was carrying. She took the opportunity to observe his weapons from close-range. They were unusual; they seemed like standard weapons, but complicated by machinery. She couldn't begin to imagine what the enhancements did. He also seemed to be wearing one of those weird arm gadgets.

She frowned when he announced trouble in the market. "What sort of trouble?" she asked, her voice deepening slightly with seriousness. "Something I should be aware about?".

When he offered his hand she flinched slightly, less at ease with a friendly gesture than she was with an aggressive one. She eyed his hand like she would a poisonous snake, though she knew he probably really only was offering it as a sign of trust. She looked up from his hand to his face, visibly finding the situation awkward, and shook her head, signifying she would not shake it, though her expression showed she meant no offence from it.

"I'm sorry, I don't..." she didn't finish her sentence, but let it trail off, hoping he would understand.

"I'm JG. Pleased to meet you." she bowed her head slightly and slowly, though making sure to keep her eyes on him. Clearly she didn't trust him enough. And rightly so; if he decided to grip her hand rather than shake it, she was sure she wouldn't be able to get out of it.

[User] Akkina then opened her eyes, from Silas' touch and then looked at him smiling happily at him, she then seen a wolf and a kid in front of her and then widened her eyes and immediately backed away, clutching Durandal tightly, pushing herself up from the ground in a flash and getting into a combat stance, to try attack the possible threat, if it was a threat, she didn't know and looked at Silas for confirmation, she waited for it.

[Assistant]
"that'll be 20 bucks for the leaves but the only price for the Ale is spending time with me and maybe I'll reveal some stuff." Aleksandri said with a short laugh. "But as of yesterday I've been the own per of this shop for about 2 years" she said before walking back behind the counter and pulled a second seat around with her, she patted the seat lightly motioning for Ava to take a seat.

---

@The Slenderman
"Nice to meet you Silas, Well actually it's a full carc- whoa!" Kouh exclaimed as the sleeping girl immedietly got up and into an attack position, while she did this Kouh stumble and caught hold of Wolf's chest fur to keep her from falling "Wa-wait!" Kouh said with a bit of a stammer before picking up the spear that had fallen to the ground and putting it back into the basket. "Ok now answer us this why is everyone aiming weapons at us today?" She said with a laugh and reached into her basket "I can do that too!" And pulled out her Harley saw which she aimed at Akina with one hand but then planted it in the ground to lean on it, yawning as she did so. As she did this Wolf was standing stock still only watching the scene but listening to the birds that flew over head at the moment.

[User] ghost in black Akkina saw the young girl and immediately put her sword back in to it's sheath and then bowed in a apologetic manner, realizing the mistake that she did "I am so sorry, I thought you were a Kyato spy, but now that I see you I realized that you aren't a spy, I'd like to become friends if you don't mind that" Akkina whispered softly

[Assistant] "I don't have any reason to battle you, I'm not your enemy" Kyato said and looked at Randy, and then sat down at his desk working on another device for Kyato Corp. He kept on looking up at Randy, but he kept on working on the device

[User] "Hmph, well, you've made a sorry first impression Seto Kyato. I REALLY hope I meet you again under different circumstances." Randy scoffed before walking out, he then looked at one of the guards in the hallway. "Might want to check on your colleague in there." He said before carrying on walking. He walked out and saw Silas, Akkina and someone else. "What are you guys doing here? I had it under control!" He commented, kind of jokingly. He then looked at the girl and wolf and took his eccentric bow. "Randy O'Malley, the Junker." Randy said to introduce himself.

[Assistant]
Titan's hand lightly twitched when she refused it, but other than that he showed no reaction. He slowly pulled it back to his side and inclined his head further than it already was. That smile, the nervousness, and intense personal guard all allowed the man to realize this was survivor. And a distrustful one at that. When she smiled, there had been something there he could not quite put his finger on. Ever more intriguing, this JG was. "You as well, JG," his tone was warm and welcoming, which he hoped was the right tactic with this wild child.

"Trouble that could lead to an ugly fight or two in the streets of the Marketplace. There have been more than a few bounties posted, the targets of which reside here. They seem to be rather hell-bent on not being captured." The last he said with a hint of frustration. He disliked collateral damage immensely, but Akkina and Silas had proven to worth adversaries. They would not go quietly whimpering into the night, Titan was sure. He turned back to the cloth and looked at it for another moment. "I really do like this material.." he said, more to himself than anyone else. "So what brings you to Liz's Tailor, child? Looking to replace those rags and sandals?" Titan had adopted a teasing tone, poking light fun at the girl. If he had her pegged correctly, she should respond with a bit of a retort of her own. She most certainly wouldn't be hurt by such a light statement.

[User] @WittyWolf Akkina smiled at Randy and skipped around him and then walked to Silas and stood by his side where she stood waiting for him to hold her close. She also looked at the wolf, then waved to the child while smiling happily to her. "We need a new place to stay, we can not use the Pawn Shop as Humphrey jumped ship to somewhere else. And who is the only one that is rich enough to get us a place?" She suggested indirectly Seto Kyato.

[Assistant]
The new person who came in seemed to be nice enough though a bit eccentric in a way, "nice to meet you both, I'm Kouh the hunter and this big lug is wolf" she said as she introduced them both before pulling her saw out of the ground and storing it back in her basket without a hint of hesitation when she picked it up. She stood up straight and walked over to wolf, climbing onto his back and laying down on her stomach, she smiled back at the girl "sure, we can be friends by the way" she said as wolf took a few steps forward and Kouh looked over his shoulder.
@GingerBoi123@The Slenderman

[User]
JG mentally breathed a sigh of relief when Titus didn't appear to take offence at her lack of reciprocation. She returned his warm tone with a warm smile, but that quickly turned to a concerned frown when she listened to him talk about potential troublemakers. People fearing capture could become very reckless and very dangerous. While part of her was intrigued and wanted to meddle, she thought it was best not to go looking for trouble yet.

"Bounty hunters themselves are often more trouble than their targets..." she said quietly, not really expecting an answer.

Suddenly she choked and her eyes went as big as saucers.

"Child?!" she croaked, not quite believing her ears. She straightened her back, raised her chin and sniffed. If she could have looked down her nose at him she would have done, but clearly that was just not possible, so she merely narrowed her eyes and gave him a dirty look.

"There's nothing wrong with my clothes." she started with a somehow stinging tone. "I'm simply looking for something that will allow me to avoid unwanted attention when travelling." she growled. She suspected he might only be teasing her, so she exaggerated her response in feigned indignity. After a couple seconds spent mock-scowling, she stuck her tongue out at him and ruined any semblance of a noble lady she had tried to imitate.

"I suppose I ought to find somewhere else then, if this place is closed and you are guarding it..." she finally said with a mischievous smile.

[Assistant] Having left the pawn shot, Hatter. The grand and mighty pilot acording to the songs they sing borded his airship. Flying over the mrket the back of the engins started to backfire and lost altitude, flying low over the market and bloting out the sun