[System]
Appearance: (Picture to come)
Age: 14
Short Bio: Minato had a mother and father, who wanted their child to have a well rounded education, so they enrolled him in the new Seiko Academy that started up. It was there that he accidentally tripped on a fallen branch that sprung up on the other end and shaved the balls off a businessman looking fellow, who turned out to be someone sent to assassinate the headmaster, something he discovered later. The school thought he was intentional, and assigned him to the Class Noir. His mother did tell him to try new things, so despite his lack of general knowledge, he eagerly tried to do well in class.
Hobbies: Playing Rock Paper Scissors, tinkering, marking his day/week/month/year planner
Dislikes: Threats, surprises, decadence, having no goal in life
Other info: Jumps at the slightest unexpected noises

[User] After hearing out the welcoming speech, Ringo stood and headed out of the auditorium, looking at his map to the office. Seeing the other two he sort of met heading the same way he was, he knew these two were of the same caliber as himself but didn't say anything as he passed the two as they were talking. Class 2-C huh? well he was going to see what this woman was going to bring before them as he noticed another who was of the same class as himself and the other two as he crossed his arms and waited for the Head Mistress to speak.

[Assistant]
Moonlight
"Quite the contrary, madam. I could figure out everything about you if I wanted. But I gave you the option to tell me first. Yet you have the audacity to say I stick my nose in other people's business. Keep that in mind, Aya." He walked into the office and sat down in the nearest chair, entering more things on his notes.

[User]
@Flightless_Soul@King Tai@DriveEMOut

Aya rolled her eyes and got to the Headmistress's office, taking a seat away from the group that had formed. She was the only girl in the group, it seemed... At that she frowned slightly. She turned her attention to the admittedly beautiful woman in front of her. Aya was much like Hibana, however not quite as devious.

[Assistant]
@King Tai@Nikki Moonlight@bloonewb

They had all gathered in her lavishly decorated office, all ten of them, her deadly flock, and she, the shepherd that molded them into who they were. A wry smirk formed upon her luscious lips, her eyes twinking mischievously, even in the dim glow of her office as she stood, both hands behind her back.

~"Good morning, my angels of death."~ Hibana addressed them, her voice smooth as velvet as it escaped her lips, a sensuous purr. ~"I've missed you all summer, though, we have accomplished so much, you and I. Requiem is now more powerful than ever. We have cornered the drug market from our Colombian rivals, and now we manufacture and sell nearly eighty percent of all illegal narcotics in the world. All it took was the murder of eight prominent drug lords to incite a war between the major Colombian cartels. I can't thank you enough for a job well done..."~

Her voice trailed off however, her gentle, delicate features...now hardening like stone, her feigned smile receding into a bitter, vengeful scowl. ~"...is what I would be saying to some of you...if you didn't fail me."~ Hibana hissed like a black mamba coiling back to strike, her emerald eyes, the light fading from them, leaving two dark green orbs in sharp slits. The woman...was truly a serpent. ~"Out of ten operations, two of you failed! Your targets escaped and are still at large to this day!"~ As Hibana paced about the room before Class Noir, two students, visibly frightened, shivered at her mere presence. Twas as if Death herself had strolled past them. ~"No matter... The others will be sure to correct your mistakes, hopefully before the bastards launch a counter attack. These two, on the other hand, students, watch and learn... This organization does not tolerate failure, and neither do I. In fact, I frown upon it sorely. All failures shall be punishable....

BY DEATH!"~

The woman suddenly whirled around. Two loud, deafening bangs erupted throughout the room, followed by the two students crumbling to the floor, both with gory gunshot wounds spewing blood and brain matter. Hibana flipped her pistol back on safe and set it on her desk with an irritated sigh. ~"Just so we are clear, children, I will not tolerate any of you failing your contracts. You are paid handsomely for your services. We expect you to perform as well as you are compensated. If I am to ever hear that a target escaped unharmed...I will put a fucking bullet in your pretty little heads...JUST LIKE THESE TWO SORRY FUCKS!"~ She snarled pointing down at the two bleeding corpses with a sharp crimson fingernail. ~"Azuma-San, take these two corpses to the furnace. They're getting blood on my nice Persian rug!"~

Azuma nodded quietly and snapped his fingers. In a matter of seconds, the two burly door men rushed in without a word and dragged the bodies away.

Hibana then collapsed in her chair with an exasperated sigh, swiveling around to face the remaining eight and take a small sip of wine to cool her nerves.

~"Ahh...Sorry for that little display, children."~ Her voice calmed. ~"Tis a sad day when I have to execute one of our own, but I have a business to run, and I can't have any unsavory employees lingering about. So then, onto business. New contracts are in circulation for this year. I expect each and every one of them to be fulfilled before the school year is up. You will be briefed on your missions early tomorrow morning, 7:30 AM sharp! Until then, continue maintaining your cover as students of the academy. If your cover is blown...well...you know the consequences. That is all. Now go."~

Rather crass the woman waved them off with a flick of her wrist, lighting a cigarette and taking a drag. ~"Aya-chan."~ She called however to the only female student of Class Noir. ~"I need you to stay. There are important matters I must discuss with you privately. The rest of you, to your dorms. I expect you here bright and early tomorrow, or you'll be digging your own grave."~

[User]
Moonlight@flightless_Soul@bloonewb@King Tai
Dai got up, amused. He hadn't expected a show. The execution was perfect, seeing as Hibana had reacted with emotion. Perhaps she wasn't the best assassin there could be. He walked towards the dorm, hands in his pocket, while his jacket's hood was still up. His crime boss had been one of the best. It had been hard infiltrating his ranks, but it was better than summer camp. Dai arrived at his dorm, and sat on the bed, going through his notes. I wonder who my roommate is.

[Assistant]
@King Tai@bloonewb

Aya did not react to the execution with any emotion whatsoever, despite the fact two of the other students had just been killed. She simply blinked a little, her thick, long lashes brushing her cheeks a little.

As the others had gone, Aya was now alone with the Headmistress. "What matters did you want to speak with me about, My Lady?" she asked respectfully. Her normally icy blue eyes held respect in them, and some other unreadable emotion. Her hands were behind her back as she stood looking at the woman before her.

[User]
Moonlight

Hibana got straight to the point after taking another sip of wine, a professional and clean cut demure from her earlier snarling beastliness, ~"You've been my most trusted assassin for a year. After you took care of that libidinous prick and his child pornography ring, I knew I could call upon you for the most unsavory tasks, and you would answer without argument. You have no morals, no qualms. Sadly..."~ She sighed, her poker face seeming to peel away. The old bat, she was growing too soft with age, perhaps because instead of her out there with blood on her hands, she was letting the next generation of cutthroats take her place...in more ways than one. ~"As I grow older, my resolve is beginning to waver. I let my emotions get the best of me during that foolish display, and for that, I'm deeply ashamed. I guess I'm no longer Natsume-Hibana, the deadliest woman in the world. Ah...listen to me. Woe with me and all that shit. That's beside the point."~

She stood from her chair, a stern glance to the young beauty before her standing at attention. ~"I have a special assignment for you. The others, I'm sure they would object to it. Enrico Maracoli is an Italian Mafia boss located in Los Angeles, California. He's a hard nosed bastard, a conservative boss who won't allow any drugs or prostitution on his turf. We recently sent one of our advisors to negotiate a business deal between his Family and Requiem. He responded by sending our advisor back...cut to pieces. I want that son of a bitch to pay dearly for his insult. I want you, Aya-chan...to kill his entire family, his wife and three lovely little children. We will send a message to the bastard, no one...no one insults Natsume Hibana. You'll receive the details of your targets when you arrive at Los Angeles International tomorrow morning. You're dismissed."~

[Assistant]
The young woman bowed deeply. "Of course, Natsume-sama. I won't fail you." Her expression was emotionless. She turned and walked out of the office. She wouldn't tell her father or mother until after her assignment. Though this was an assignment her father would definitely be proud of. Coming from a long line of assassins from her father's side, she was taught the basics of the trade at a young age: Be discreet, don't get caught, and use whatever means you have to accomplish your goal. Unfotunately for her, her mother never approved of anything, she never had. She didn't approve of her unless she got top grades in school. Her father was a part of Requiem. Though he worked from the shadows. She shook her head to clear her thoughts and focused on her mission. This should be easy. Unless this man's wife had a gun and was trained to use it. Then it would be slightly more difficult. But Aya was swift, agile.

Tai

Aya did not notice as she walked past Ringo, a look of emotionlessness on her face, though a tiny smirk played her plump, pale lips.

[User]
@Nikki Moonlight@bloonewb@Flightless_Soul

Ringo listened intently but with a jaded look on his face, Hibana speaking to them about not tolerating failure, blasting to two students who failed their mission. Ringo had to hold in his laughter watching this cool calm students getting killed gangsta style, nearly wanting to point his fingers at the dead fools. One thing about Ringo was he never returns back home without finishing what he started. As the kids laid there dead, and his face scrunching up trying to hold in the chuckles, He straightened up hearing about getting their new missions.

Ringo hoped that he'd get a mission where he wouldn't have to kill from a distance. Those were the less favored ones as he loved using blades and choke wires to kill off his target. Even if he has to fight them...

As they were dismissed, Ringo was curious on what Aya received. He figured it was a mission solely for her. I mean, doing a little snooping around was what he does and...he heard about this girl handling some pedophile prick...he wished he was there to see it.

He spoke up to Aya "Someone seems happy. Have fun and make sure you bring me back a souvenir." Ringo's last mission was dealing with a terrorist supplier helping out one of Requiem's rivals. Killing off the supplier was not the hard part, getting out of his trap was. Either way, he had plenty of blood that night. He gave Aya a salute but wanted to ask something else.

[Assistant]
Tai

Aya stopped and turned to look at him, smirk fading. "There's something else you want to ask me about." She had a small frown fixed on her face now. The young beauty folded her arms over her chest and she stared at him unblinkingly.

[User]
As soon as the teen left the office, Hibana ambled weakly over to her record player, switching out the earlier record for something else. When the needle touched the black vinyl, the office was filled with a somber atmosphere, a traditional, yet tragic melody played upon a shamisen.

The woman sighed, abruptly blindsided by a fit of several painful coughs racking her body. She fell into her chair, just the mere act of crossing the room feeling as though she had run an entire marathon. Hibana...she couldn't deny it any longer...

She turned her chair to face the window. The view of the academy was lovely this time of year. The cherry blossoms were in full bloom all across the campus grounds, the grasses so verdant and vibrant with tiny white and yellow flowers. The warmth of the early morning sun felt good on her skin, good on her bones aching and shivering.

Hibana sighed taking a drag from her cigarette. She had made the right choice...hopefully.

It's no secret...I'm going to burn in Hell for all that I've done, but at least I will rest in peace knowing that my legacy shall continue.

[Assistant]
Moonlight

Ringo noticed Aya caught him wanting to ask her something else. "Just a little curious about something....what's your weapon of choice? What did you kill that pedo-prick with?"

[User]
Tai

Aya raised a brow. She was quite good at reading most people's body language. She replied, "I used a pearl necklace his wife had to strangle him." She turned to leave, her scent quite noticeable as it hit his nose.

[Assistant] HOLY SHIT! HOLYSHITHOLYSHITHOLYSHIT! Did the headmistress just go full psycho and cap two students!? What sort of school is this!? Why did the family even decide to move here!? Kyoto was nice! Minato felt as if he had been shot alongside the other two. His fingers and toes had gone numb, and when the principal dismissed the others, he got up robotically and left with the others. Is this what soldiers feel like in their first trench experience? And she seemed a kindly lady this morning, too. Okay, head clearing up. What's the first class? Math? Okay, that's doable. He shuffled off to math, his head swimming in adrenaline.


[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 had noticed the ethereal woman, too. He leaned over closer to Camilla to get a better look, before a meeting he couldn't have anticipated transpired almost too quickly for him to grasp, and in all honesty it happened so fast Cyrdic wasn't sure he was comfortable with it. Not to say he didn't trust Camilla and her judgements on who to befriend, but still.

To say Cyrdic was nonplussed would be an understatement. He had heard Camilla whisper enough Tilean to where he was beginning to not feel completely lost if he heard it, but he had caught less than half of their conversation before they began to speak in Reikspeil.

When the hand was thrust out for him to shake, he glanced at a bewildered but otherwise happy Camilla, and he decided he wouldn't be the jealous type. "Lucky," Cyrdic replied honestly. Images of the past few months and all of the times they saved one another passed through his head. Cyrdic's handshake was strong, and this Tilean shook his hand to match his strength. If Cyrdic didn't know any better, he would have felt the man didn't want to be shown up in any way. He certainly had the look of someone with an ego.

"It's good to meet a friend of Camilla's" The Northman said and finished the handshake, sitting down next to his companion once more. He smiled, letting Ricardo know he was fine to sit with them. "So what brings you to Marienburg?" He asked, taking one of the closed bottles on the ground (probably knocked off by the Kislevites), popping off the cork to begin and refill their glasses, and fill Riccardo's up if he gestured for it.

The lack of howling from his sword helped keep Cyrdic somewhat at ease. No Chaos taint anywhere near here. Just a rowdy tavern in a bustling city, he told himself...

[Assistant]
Camilla's head was still spinning as Ricardo streched out, leaning back on his chair and allowing Cydric to fill his cup.

"To wives and lovers," he proposed, lifting his cup.

"May they never meet," Camilla completed and they drank down the toast.

"Yes why are you here? Its a long way from Tratino," Camilla inquired eagerly leaning forward to listen to the tale. Ricardo smiled, clearly enjoying the audience. He had changed since she had last met him, he was harder and leaner but the young man she knew was still there. She remembered watching him leap across a wide boulevard from roof to roof with the watch in pursuit, risk his last coin on a turn of the cards. They were pleasant warm memories of the Tilean summer but that seemed very far away.

"It is a long way," Ricardo agreed, "as my ass reminds me to this very moment." He made a theatrical show of rubbing his rump and Camilla couldn't help but snort in amusement even though most of the journey had to have been made by sea. He grinned and then his face grew serious and he leaned in close.

"I have been given a task by the Contessa Di Raiario," he said conspiratorially. Ricardo turned a sidelong glance to Camilla.

"Certamente siamo amanti professionali," he added for her benifit.

"Naturalmente io sottolineo," Camilla nodded her understanding.

"Something very valuable has been stolen from her," Richardo's Tielan accented Reikspiel sounded like it had too many syllables and rendered very valuable closer to berry baluable.

"A piece from her Arabyian collection," he went on. Camilla blinked in shock.

"Maria Di Raiario is one of the foremost collectors of Arabyian artefacts and curios in Tilea," she translated for Cydric. Some of those pieces were solid gold, some were rumored to be from fabled Khemri. They were also supposed to be amongst the most heavily protected collections in the land. Contessa Raiario was a notorious paranoid and kept a small army of mercenaries at her beck and call.

"Tutto questo per un trinket degli amanti? Sembra un po 'molto," Camilla said skeptically, momentarily forgetting that Cydric didn't speak tilean. Ricardo spread his hands as if a fair point had been made.

"There is money Camilla, of course there is money, but you are right. People start wondering how such a thing could be stolen, it wouldn't be a big leap to start asking how the Contessa's new companion might be involved. Dios, If I thought I could manage it I would have just ridden for Pavona or some other place and waited it out." Ricardo took another long drink and Camilla could tell that despite his outward facade the man really was concerned.

"Maybe you too would be interested in helping, like I said there is money," he rubbed his fingers together in emphasis.

[User]
Cyrdic doubted many of his old lads would have taken much from the conversation other than the words 'countess' and 'gold' which granted, was all Cyrdic needed to hear to consider the prospect. The lands of Araby brought to him visions of a place he had never seen before, nor imagined was truly real to his sensibilities. The old quartermaster had told him stories of the place, a land of naught but sand dunes, with islands of city states filled with magic and gold.

Despite himself, he felt a bit of trepidation. If he was being truthful, he'd rather face a bloody skirmish with Norscans than be involved with anything mysterious south of the Old World. But they were in need of money, and Camilla trusted this man. He supposed making dealings with shady contacts in a Marienburg tavern wasn't too far fetched for traveling sellswords like them.

"I'm in," he said bluntly, taking his flagon and draining it with a large swig. His cup 'clapped' onto the table. He didn't realize that Ricardo had been looking more at Cyrdic than Camilla when he offered, as if he expected the woman to be on board.

"Excellent," the Tilean said, his smile wide and almost predatory, showing his teeth. "Remember my friend, this will require a certain subtlety, however..." His accent sounded very much smoother than Cyrdic's rough speech. It was odd to hear a male speaking with such an accent. Ricardo looked to Camilla, to see if she'd vouche for Cyrdic's abilities.

Behind them, an uproarious amount of laughter and hoots came from a few Middenlanders at the bar, and one held his hands up in mock victory as if to rally his fellows to greater heights of revelry.

[Assistant]
Camilla nodded enthusiastically hoping Ricardo would have some of this alleged money upfront. It was a long way to Tilea if he were expecting to get back home before he collected his reward. Richardo looked fairly well heeled though, he must have bought some money with him. Even if he had been living as the Contessa's lover he would have laid some money aside, it was nearly the first thing one did after securing the affections of a patron.

"Cydric can do subtle," Camilla confirmed, he had managed to fool the court of Middenheim after all. Ricardo slammed his cup down on the table in enthusiasm, his smile radiant.

"Da dios piccola uccella, with your help I am sure we can recover it! Listen I'll tell you what I have found so far," the Tilean leaned in, spreading his hands but before he could begin to speak the noise behind him swelled in intensity. Good natured shouts began to devolve into snarls as the Middenlanders collided with the Kislivite contingent. A drink was emptied over one of the northeners and within moments they were on their feet shoving each other. One of the Middenlanders, a burly blonde giant with an eyepatch bought a tankard down on a Kislivite with shattering force, and suddenly the brawl was on.

"Damn it," Camilla sighed, looking around for another exit, but it seemed there would be little option. The men were surging towards them and she barely had time to get to her feet before they crashed into the table, upending it in a spray of watery ale. Ricardo was a fraction slower than she and his chair was kicked out from under him. The Tielan let out an outraged sqwak as he fell onto the straw covered ground, already rolling to avoid being trampled. Before he could right himself a boot caught him in the chest, driving the air from his lungs. Camilla ducked behind Cydric as was her custom, using her friend to avoid being jostled. Consequently she was probably the only person in the bar who saw the blond Middenlander pull a short bladed knife from his sleeve and drive it downward at the prone Ricardo.

Even taken by surprise and winded Ricardo was fast. He grabbed his chair one handed and slammed it upward at the Middenlander the fragile wood splintering under the force of the downward blow. He tried to twist it to disarm the man, a classic duelist trick, but the Middenlander let go of the knife and delivered a stomping kick to the Tilean's stomach, clearly content to stomp the man to death if the easier option were denied to him.

"Cydric!" yelled thrusting her finger towards the scuffle, even as one of the Kislivite's threw a punch at the Ostlander.

[User]
Cyrdic covered Camilla with his muscled form, halting the table and debris from hitting her. He wasn't coddling her, at least to his mind. It was an instinctual reaction, much like a loyal hounds. But when his wits came back to him, he heard her cry and he saw Ricardo knocked to the ground under the foot of a huge Middenlander. Cyrdic was just about to step toward them when a punch struck him in the jaw, sending him staggering.

In a bestial reaction, Cyrdic kicked low, taking the Kislevite who had punched him on the shin. The man screeched in pain, and Cyrdic yanked the Kislevite's head down into the Ostlander's knee, knocking him back with shattered teeth.

"Cyrdic! Ricardo!" he heard Camilla cry, but Cyrdic was already on it. He stretched his jaw by mock chewing to make sure it wasn't broken from the punch, and grabbed another chair before brandishing it as a club, slamming it onto the Middenlander's back. With a shove, the man fell to the side, dazed. Cyrdic knelt down and helped Ricardo up, the Tilean looking like an annoyed snake.

"Questi nordori," Ricardo spat, before letting out a Tilean curse and pressing past Cyrdic, the Tilean's tan arms knocking aside a Knife aimed for Cyrdic.

The Ostlander didn't have time to thank him, punching a Middenlander comrade of the first one and bowling him over with his forearm. "Camilla! Upstairs!" he called. It was at that moment that Cyrdic realized he and Ricardo stood just where the otherwordly beauty had sat earlier, but she was nowhere to be seen...


[System]
Appearance:
Age: 25

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Bisexual

Role: Cook

Personality: Normally friendly and polite, but she's easily irritated and snaps/talks back a lot. She makes a lot of food that would be considered exotic (bushmeat, strange plants, insects, grubs) and hates it if anyone complains. In the event that there is a complaint...well, you're going to have to go out and forage, because she won't feed you unless she's forced to. When she is not cooking or directly planning meals, one can usually find her testing the plants on the island to determine whether they're poisonous. Finding natural salt deposits makes her practically swoon! Although she usually just gets it from distilling seawater. She likes cookbooks with strange recipes. Funny enough, her favorite food is fish (uh oh!). But she wouldn't be unfriendly to a mermaid; she might make a joke about calamari.

Bio: Luz grew up on the main continent, and she was a preteen when the dictator took over. Her mother, the only parent she had, after a year of this madness, told Luz of her plan: they would commit suicide together. Luz, too terrified to say no, agreed to the plan, but when it came to it she didn't have the courage to drink the poisoned water. Her mother, having already downed the whole glass, died slowly in front of her, so she just left.
She lived a few years on the street after that, carefully avoiding other people, and was very nearly recruited into sex trafficking at 16. Luckily, a few rebels picked a fight with the shady creep who'd found her sleeping under a bridge, and they got Luz out of there. Not wanting a useless new teenage crew member, they taught her multiple trades; the one she loved the most and was best at was cooking, and she's been getting better and better ever since.
She made sure to obtain plenty of books on nutrition, and steal a good number of citrus fruits, before setting sail with the Phoenix Pirates.

[User]
Balon sighed in comfort. A hot water spring, who would've thought! Setting foot on land after weeks on the ship was such a relief... Maybe now, they would finally be able to find peace. Being a handy man, and somewhat of a "do-what-I-feel-like"-guy, he had decided to build his home among the trees. A treehouse near the northern clearing, near the beautiful flowers and the meadow. It had taken longer and he had to pay (or bribe) some of the passagers to help him build it, and sure it wasn't very big but it was comfortably living up in the trees with such a beautiful view.

Resting his arms and head on the edge of the hot water spring, he sighed once more. "Isn't this just the best thing?" he said to Blythe. "Free of responsibility of the homeland, no longer the feeling of being constantly hunted... No longer fearing for our lives!" he smiled and closed his eyes. "This is paradise."
Little did he know, however, that the merfolk were aware of their pressence on the island... And probably watching them this very moment.
"Hey, why'd you try to jump off that darn cliff anyway?" he said, exhaling the smoke of his cigarette like always.

[Assistant]
Now that the ordeal of stopping the Captain from leaping off of a cliff had thankfully ended, Luz could finally relax and breathe in the wonderful, tropical, free air of the island. She was immensely pleased because on top of all the perks the island had, there were also coconuts near the shore. She'd had to climb up one of the trees and knock some green ones off of the branch, and now, with slightly-achey muscles, she cracked them against a rock and poured the water into cups for the crew. She'd decided that she'd wait to use the hot spring until she could get a moment alone.
More pressing, though, was the fact that up to the north there was a lake full of fish. Fresh fish...the thought made Luz salivate. She was absolutely going to head up there and fish later.

[User]
Blythe was floating on his back in the spring and chuckled while answering Balon's question. "I just thought it'd be fun, I just forgot a drop that high would kill me." He agreed with Balon. Living on this island away from all the violence was fantastic. Blythe wouldn't mind growing old and dying in this place. Meanwhile Drake was creating make-shift poles at the lake. Passengers had started fishing either with the poles or spears. A purple haired woman with a very pointy spear. "Wow where did you get that? And what happened to your hair?" Drake tried to recognize what passenger this person was but could not recall. "Who... are you exactly?"

"O-oh I'm uh... From your boat." The jellyfish mermaid was very nervous. She had never been this close to a human before. She didn't want to hurt him but the queen's orders were to capture them all. This one seemed the smallest and most vulnerable. Once the humans get busy I'll stab his legs and take him under the ocean, she thought. At first she felt bad for the human, he seemed innocent, then she remembered her days of being a slave. Not only was this a human, but he was also a man. Her sympathy left her and she was ready to attack the human when the time became right.

"I think I'd remember someone with pink hair... Whatever, what do you need?"

"Um.. A fishing pole?" The thought of sticking a hook through a fishes mouth disgusted her.

[Assistant] "How do you even capture a human?!" Amphi was frantically pacing back and forth in the trees, it was always much easier to pace with legs. " Do you stuff them in a bag?" Making hand gestures as she thought aloud, almost completely oblivious to her surroundings. "Or maybe i'll hit them with a stick and tie them up, yeah that's good!" She stops dead in her tracks. "...but then how would i move them?...And what if they woke up?!" Amphi started pacing again her panic rising as she started to pull at her hair. She sighed and leaned against a tree, seeking any sort of stability. She reached out to a young sapling growing to her left, caressing its leaves, wishing that maybe one day she could be a tree. " I know i'm hopeless aren't I? I probably couldn't even get close enough to a human to hit them with a stick. I'd probably just run away like i always do." As the panic started to ebb away it was soon replaced with dread. "Gaahhh, it's the queen so I at least have to try, right? If i just gave up, it would be like giving up on our home. On the other hand if I did try i would probably end up captured and then what? Would I end up dead,...or worse?" Amphi curled into a ball, trying to hold herself together. "Maybe i'll just live out the rest of my life as a fish."

[User] Blythe decided to cool off by taking a walk on the island. The cool air felt nice on his bare chest. He spent way too long in that hot spring. A pineapple tree caught his eyes and as it did his stomach growled. He climbed to the top and grabbed one. Forgetting the fact that prickly things hurt the captain yelped in pain and fell from the tree right next to a curled up Mermaid. He got up and brushed himself off. "'Allo lass! How are ya? You seem troubled?" He gave her a kind and charismatic smile.

[Assistant] Frozen in absolute terror with large tears rolling down her face Amphi was still curled up next to the tree. great. her worst nightmare has come to life. Humans were now falling from the sky. She couldn't move and she kept trying to breathe but no matter how much air she took in she felt as if she couldn't get any in. Her breath got quicker and quicker as panic started to overwhelm her. Everything got blury and her heart beat faster and faster until the world went dark. (she hyperventilated then passed out.)

[User] Blythe chuckled at how silly this girl was being. "I can't believe she fainted! Haha, I guess I should take her to our doctor." Blythe picked her up like a damsel in distress and carried her back to camp... When he arrived he set her down in a hut and put a blanket over her. "Poor thing is too frail." Blythe said examining the girl. "Better get Luz to cook her something up too, she's so thin." Blythe left her alone to go and grab the doctor and Luz.

[Assistant]
Luz had just stepped out of the cave, hoping to go fishing in the lake. She had been itching to get to work on that front ever since the rich lake had been discovered, and not noticing Blythe approaching from a distance, she clapped her hands and rubbed them together in a plotting sort of way. She muttered aloud to herself: "We're having fish for dinner tonight. Mwaha!" She could not be more excited to have fresh fish after all that time over empty ocean where resources had been scant.
She put her long red hair in a neat ponytail and checked that her supplies were on her: a good sharp knife, a longer blade for cutting through foliage, a canteen full of water and some hardtack in case she happened to get lost out in the tropical landscape. After that she tightened the ties on her boots; she didn't want them to come off if she had to wade into a muddy lake.

[User]
Balon followed Blythe with his gaze as he left the spring. He himself decided to stay a bit longer. Sure, they had been there all morning, but it was just -too- comfortable to leave now. He looked behind him where his clothes were neatly stacked with both his swords on top, and snickered. Though he had become quite the scoundrel over the years as a rebel, he still kept some habits from the royal guard... Such as: always look presentable. Always stack your clothes neatly. Always keep your hair and beard trimmed. And most importantly: always keep your swords maintained and -close-. They were just a hand's length away, like always. He never kept them further than that.

Looking around he felt the calm of the island surround him. He closed his eyes and leaned back, sighing once again in comfort and relief. He was alone.

[Assistant]
Leo stepped up onto the beach, shaking out her newly formed legs. It always took her a moment to get her land legs about her but she impatiently forged on. Her heart was in her throat she had just learned that Amphi had been sent on patrol. AMPHI, for Posiden's sake!! As her jello legs got more surly she hastened to a jog. Oh! Where could her dear friend be!! If she was hurt-! Leo's blood chilled and she quickened to a sprint, she didn't know what she would do if Amphi was hurt but she knew that it would be unpleasant for the humans!
Not paying attention to where she was going Leo fell head first into a hot spring. Gasping and sputtering as the hot water stung her lungs Leo Came face to face with a rogueish looking human with a sword sitting within arms reach. it was at moment that Leo realized that she was in such a hurry to come to Amphis rescue that she hadn't even remember to grab her dual short blades. She stared at the human wide eyed, well shit.

[User]
The sound of hasty footsteps made Balon look up, and suddenly someone fell into the water with him! She stuck her head up from the water, looking surprised and staring at him wide-eyed. "Why... Hello there." he said carefully, quite surprised himself. She looked humanoid but not entirely human. Her ears were pointy and her skin a light tone of purple, and she had long white hair. Both his arms were resting against the rocks behind him and he didn't move. "Girls tend to fall for me I admit, but this is something new." he said with but a hint of a grin. He didn't know wether or not to expect trouble or comedy, but he was confident. His swords were close, and few could match him once he had one in his grasp.
He keeps looking at the girl, a brow raised and a playfull grin on his face.

[Assistant] The pink haired mermaid thought the time right to attack Drake and with a quick motion she stabbed him in his left leg. Drake was busy making her a fishing pole so there was no way to dodge. He let out a very loud yelp of pain that was cut off when the mermaid covered his mouth. She then grabbed his arms and started to drag him into the woods. Is this a soldier of the dictator? he thought. Clenching his teeth he wriggled free and started to limp back to base camp. The girl caught up to him easily but not before Drake had a chance to cry for help.

[User]
A loud call caught Luz's attention, causing her to turn her head. She ran in the direction from which it had come, whipping out her knife as she recognized Drake's voice. Clutching the blade, she burst through the foliage to see the young pirate, his leg bleeding, and a pink-haired woman who Luz didn't recognize. She decided to distract the mermaid and give her crewmate a chance to escape.

She made a slashing motion in the air to warn off the hostile. "I'm giving you one chance," she said threateningly, hoping that her big talk would be enough to scare off this woman--otherwise, who would cook for the Phoenix Pirates? "Get out before I gut you!"


[System]
"And I get up because it is the only thing I can do."

---

---
Nickname:
Rose, because it is a shorten version of his name and because of his occupation. Although Ambrose prefers if only close friends referred to him this way, as the nickname has been used in a mean-spirited manner many times

Date of Birth:
October 31st 1995

Age:
21

Gender:
Male

Sexuality:
Homosexual

Relationship Status:
Single

Hometown:
Detroit, Michigan

Ethnicity:
Biracial - white father and African American mother

In Depth Appearance:
Ambrose has a slender figure, and stands at a mere 5'5'' and has a sort of a baby face. However everything on him is a lean muscle, toned from years of track team and regular running. His skin is a tawny brown, with deep gold undertones. He doesn't have the best posture though, and is often slouched in attempt appear smaller and be less noticeable in general. Ambrose has a pair of deep hazel eyes, framed with dark thick lashes. His hair is a deep black with soft curls that rest on his forehead. His skin splattered with dark freckles, across his cheeks and back, and he has several small scars on his upper thighs as well as a couple deep, ugly scars on his torso.

The young man has no tattoos, although he has a couple in mind he wants to get someday. But he does sport a small septum piercing, other then that, Ambrose is pretty bare in terms of body modifications. He tends to wear monotone clothes, mostly black and grey with only pastel colors like mint green occasionally. The clothing pieces are usually loose and comfortable, although Ambrose is always seen wearing his favorite pair of high tops sneakers.

Hobbies:
◘ Painting
◘ Photography
◘ Film Reviewing
◘ Running in the early morning for exercise

Magical Affinity:
A new-comer to the magic scene, Ambrose is inexperienced and unsure of his abilities. But he is still a natural and a fast learner for the art. He seems to showing an affinity towards the natural and physical magics.

Habits:
◘ Pulls all-nighters to finish a particular painting, messes up his sleep schedule for a week and barely functions on coffee the entire time
◘ Extremely fidgety, especially when anxious
◘ Doodling on every piece of paper he gets his hands on
◘ Smoking (Although this is a rare thing to witness as he only indulges when he is particularly stressed)

Likes:
◘ Confusing art films
◘ Plants
◘ Dancing
◘ Rain and Thunderstorms
◘ Snails
◘ Indie/Alternative music

Dislikes:
◘ Crowded Rooms
◘ High-pressure situations or high-expectations
◘ Airplanes/Airports
◘ Elitist Attitudes
◘ Bigotry in general
◘ People flaking on plans/promises. It's a real pet peeve of his

Fears:
◘ Fear of heights
◘ Fear of tight/small spaces
◘ Fear of running into the law

Personality:
The first impression Ambrose makes on people, is a small guy who seems timid and socially uncomfortable. And this is true for the most part. Ambrose naturally shies away from the spot-light and likes instead to observe people from a distance (one of his favorite past times is people watching). He is a naturally anxious and cautious person, leading him to be un-trusting and suspicious of other people's motives. Most people who speak to him for the first time are met a with a guarded and tense conversation. Yet despite this Ambrose is more a follower and is easily pressured into activities he would't have otherwise done himself. He is truly a fish out of water in the academy life, an outsider, so he hasn't made any new friends yet.

Because of his introversion, Ambrose is more focused on his own pursuits instead of relationships, like painting and photography. Both of which are passions he hopes to turn into a career someday. He is incredibly invested in the arts, but he is too afraid to quit his day job for a full-time career as an artist. He spends almost all of his free time painting, and has even had a couple successful art shows. Yet overall, Ambrose is still naive and unsure of how to further his skills and network successfully to make his break into the industry.

Despite his initial prickly exterior, Ambrose is quite affectionate to the ones who have earned his trust. A little emotionally needy, he is eager to please those have captured his affections. Ambrose has the habit of putting others before him, often neglecting himself for days on end. Yet romantic partners of Ambrose are disappointed with someone who is afraid of both emotional intimacy and commitment.

Ambrose also has an unexpected wild side, this is something he tries to hide the most as it has gotten him into many sticky situations. It really only comes out with drinking or anything else like that. When he is like this, he is more willing to take risks and tell people how he really feels. This is probably when he is at his funniest, sarcastic and even a bit flirty.

Background:
Ambrose grew up in a cramped apartment, in the inner city that was wracked with poverty and crime. It was a daily part of his environment, to be unsure of if he would get dinner, and if he would even be safe considering the criminal activity. An only child with neglectful parents with a father who took his anger out on his family and a mother who drowned her sorrows with alcohol. They weren't really completely evil people, but they shouldn't have been parents. Ambrose had to grow up on his own, and his only escape from reality was through the arts.

 But as he grew to adolescence, he became painfully aware of the expectations around him. To have a reliable job, to be tough and masculine, and so on. This, combined with involvement with the "bad kids", Ambrose fell down a slippery slope of petty crime. Eager to prove himself among his peers, the teenager began to deal drugs and even took part in a few (unarmed) robberies. He never had the intention to hurt people, and viewed it as a way to get cash for food and other basic essentials. But Ambrose also began nursing a drug addiction, thanks to easy access and pressure from his "friends".

Ambrose barely graduated from high school, and with rapidly deteriorating health, he soon realized he needed to take a good hard look at himself. He was a shell of the person he used to be, malnourished and a lost purpose in life. Ambrose knew he didn't want this life, and he knew he didn't want this life. So one day, he just got up and left. He forced himself to go cold turkey, he forced himself to face horrible withdrawals and cut ties with everyone from his old life. To them, Ambrose was now dead. He moved to a small town in Michigan and landed a job in a entry-level position in a florist shop. The owner noticed his hard-work and eye for design and with training, Ambrose was promoted to a florist. He has now worked there for a year, and has also been sober for a year.

Up to this point, Ambrose was ignorant of his abilities and of the magic world. His life seemed to be back on track until he was swept into the world by accidentally witnessing a magical act late one night. Bewildered, he was hauled off to Blackbrick academy to have his memory erased of the incident. At the mercy of the Magicians, Ambrose was given a test of his magic skill on a mere whim of the headmaster. To everyone's astonishment, he passed, demonstrating an innate ability just now awakened. With that, Ambrose was accepted into the college. Amrbose decided to attend, a promise of free higher education and access to an entire magical world was too good a deal to pass up. Ambrose is still unsure how to register everything that has happened, but he is excited for what the future holds.

Miscellaneous:
N/A

[User]
Caleb looked at Ambrose after he confessed his apology. He meant every word he said, but Ambrose quickly looked away from him. No doubt he was thinking about all the bad things that had occurred after they had met. He was silent for a while until Ambrose spoke and his head lifted to look at Ambrose with sincere eyes. What was there to say? What more could he say? He didn't know what else to say other than that he was sorry and wanted to move forward, but he had apologized already. He sighed and reached out, even in pain and touched Ambrose's hand.

"I just wanted to make sure you are alright," Caleb began lightly squeezing Ambrose's hand. "You're an amazing guy Ambrose, and you deserve to be happy in your life. You've been through a lot, but I want you to be happy Ambrose, and I want you to enjoy your time here. I will do everything in my power to make sure you are safe, even if it kills me."

Caleb released his soft grip on Ambrose's hand and clutched his side because of the wave of pain and nausea that washed over him. He leaned back and groaned closing his eyes and exhaling slowly.

[Assistant]
Ambrose lowered his head, unable to look back at Caleb, knowing Caleb's piercing gaze would only draw him in. He stiffened when Caleb made contact, mind flashing back to that terrible moment Caleb almost took Alex's life. Yet, he didn't pull away, allowing Caleb to rest his hand upon his own. He listened patiently to Caleb's speech, wondering if he actually meant it.

"You're wrong. I'm not an amazing guy or even a particularly nice person." He said stubbornly, "And I don't need to be safe if it's going to kill you." At that last part, Ambrose met Caleb's gaze, his eyes burning defiantly. But his expression instantly softened to concern when Caleb groaned in pain.

Ambrose could practically feel Sam's piercing glare from afar. The thought crossed his mind that Sam blamed Ambrose for Caleb's condition. Thinking that he was the one who set off his erratic and reckless behavior. And it wasn't far from the truth at all. Ambrose blamed himself too, he blamed everything that's happened on himself. It was what motivated him to throw himself into his studies, to make he could prevent anything like this again.

"I just... Everything is so terrible and I don't know how to fix any of this." Ambrose stopped, his voice on the verge of breaking. He was vulnerable, after the terrible things he had witnessed today. "I wish this was all a dream," He confessed with a shake of his head. "All I know, is that I need to be stronger if I'm going to survive."

[User]
Caleb's eyes met Ambrose's and he could see the pain behind them. He understood then that Ambrose hid behind his emotions in order to prevent anything from breaking through. Even when it came to affairs of the heart, but Caleb wanted to let him know that he didn't blame him for any of it, he didn't, he blamed himself for what happened. He shouldn't have gotten so out of control, he shouldn't have taken what Ambrose had said so direct. He could relate, he was supposed to be on break from relationships, and here he was trying to fall back into one. He would have to work hard to keep his promise of no relationships, but there still remained the part of him that felt something between Ambrose and him. As Ambrose spoke after their eyes met and emotions were released, he couldn't help but feel bad. He had done this, he had done this to Ambrose and it hurt to realize.

"Ambrose, I want you to know that it's not your fault. What happened was not your fault. I don't want you blaming yourself for what happened, do you understand?" Caleb began as he tried to give a reassuring smile. "Sometimes I wish it were all a dream too, but then I realize that I wouldn't want to wake up and not have met you." Caleb sighed and tried to stand up, but he realized that if he tried there would be more pain and he wasn't ready for that yet, his body had just come down from an episode and he didn't want to put it through another one so soon.

"If you want to get stronger, I will help you I will teach you," Caleb said with a soft sigh of relief from the subsiding pain.

"Actually that's not a bad idea. From now on I think it's best if we travel in pairs. It's less likely to attack if we are in pairs," Sam spoke up causing Caleb to look over at her with a raised eyebrow.

"But I don't want to interfere in Ambrose's normal routine," Caleb said turning back to look at Ambrose.

"Would you mind Ambrose?" Sam asked, "By the way, I spoke with Alex and as much as he hates you right now Caleb, he really hopes you fully recover and he is on board for stopping it. I think Ariana works best with him so she could pair with him, and Jeremy and I work well together so we can pair up. You two are already close...." Sam stopped talking realizing she had interfered in their time and sighed. "I'm sorry," she added turning back to what she and Ariana were working on.

Caleb was about to reply when Sam apologized and he closed his mouth. "It's really up to you, I'm not going to force you to do anything you don't want to do. I don't blame you for anything and I sure as hell don't want you being alone after what you experienced."

[Assistant]
He shook his curls out in defiance to Caleb's praise. He had it all twisted, Caleb idealized this perfect image of Ambrose. That he could do no wrong. It worried Ambrose to be viewed that way. "I deserve to be blamed. We all do." He snapped out quietly, before relaxing once more. He realized he shouldn't work himself up after everything that's happened. So he sighed heavily and took Caleb's compliment with a neutral shrug.

His eyes brighten though at the mention of tutorship. He was hesitant yes, but he had witnessed Caleb's power. It was nothing to sneeze at. He was startled when Sam spoke up, and not too happy that she had been listening in. "It's fine... I can.." He was cut off as Sam continued to ramble on. Ambrose crossed his arms over his chest, and waited until she realized how she had cut in. "Right." Ambrose murmured and looked back at Caleb. "I don't really want to experience anything like that again... And if pairing would help that, then I can work my routine around it." Ambrose nodded as he warmed up to the idea.


[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]
IC: Amaranth sighed, her hand twitching involuntarily as she and the rest of the newly minted team Bastion walked out of the Headmaster's office. She felt... exposed for the first time in her life. They were the rejects, and it didn't take a genius to figure that out. None of them had uniforms, they hadn't been around for the first part of the day... It wasn't difficult. Ordinarily, Amy wouldn't complain about the uniform situation, but it was just another thing separating her from the rest of the school. At least she had thought to wear her toboggan hat today, she thought, pulling it down over her ears–and her feathers.

Isolation, isolation she could deal with. But... for the rest of the school year all four of them would have to be on their toes. Because any tripping up... and team Bastion would be as dead as the Grimm that Unchained Fury had torn apart.

[Assistant] Robert is not the what you think. Yes Rayna may sound mean but she's not insulting Pricilla. If she was I'd tell her to screw off and leave us alone before I would make her leave, but she's just giving Pricilla advice." Greyson said to Robert wanting to calm him before he did anything stupid that he would regret. In all honesty Greyson would never hit a woman but neither would he ever let anyone hurt the feelings of the girl he cared about. Right now Greyson was thinking about how Pricilla would react to Rayna's "constructive criticism"

[User]
Well. That was unexpected.

When he washed out of the entrance exam, Benjamin fully believed that that was the end of it. It would have been worse, too, because it would have been his own fault. His reluctance to use his ace up the sleeve nearly lost him his chance at being a hunter. Now, though, he had another chance. He didn't expect to get it, and he still expected to wake up any minute. Starting on the back foot or not, he had a chance.

The thought was sobering, too. He knew his reputation was starting with a mark against it, and it wasn't just his reputation anymore. If he screwed up, the rest of them would pay for it, too. So he couldn't screw up. He needed to do his best, even if that meant not always having another trick up his sleeve.

Truthfully, there was also the fact that he didn't really know his team all the well. Maybe Ozpin did some team building exercises after the entrance exam or something, but he'd (obviously) missed them. Ben had ended up working with them mostly by chance, and there hadn't been an excessive amount of time to talk since then. He was acutely aware of the girl, probably older than him, with a decidedly nonstandard sense of fashion walking near him. Amy. The other guy on the team, probably same age, maybe a little younger. Trad. And Sangue, the other girl who was probably older than him. And seemed to have one arm.

From the look on Goodwitch's face, she wasn't happy about having a team of exam rejects walking around. He had a bad feeling they'd see that expression again, and not just on her face.

Well. One more obstacle to overcome.

"So, schedule says we're supposed to be in lunch. If I remember how we got to Oz's office right, that'd be down the stair, and to the left, right?"

[Assistant]
The silence from the professor was agonizing. Trad had worked his heart out practicing for the exam, only to fail in misery. It was probably his fault too, he was over protective of his team and got in their way trying to shield them from attacks they most likely could have avoided. That didn't stop him though. He continued his practice and learned from his mistakes during the exam, and as luck would have it, it paid off. Now here he was, in the headmaster's office waiting to hear the verdict. The anxiety was killing him, and the disapproving stares of Ms. Goodwitch only made things worse. Still, he did his best to stand firm and at attention.

Finally Ozpin spoke, reminding him and the others of their humiliation during the exams. He couldn't help but feel this might not be the reconsideration he had hoped for. Then, he heard the words from Ozpin,

"That is why you four are hereby admitted to Beacon Academy"

Trad couldn't help but smile. Despite all that had happened he was now a student of Beacon! His joy was quickly hushed by an even colder stare from Goodwitch, as if to remind him of how thin of ice he would be on.

When the team was dismissed and they all left the office, Trad let out a long sigh,

"I'm not the best when it comes to history, but I think we may be the first rejects to be allowed in."

Trad wasn't sure he could eat just yet, he was still trying to take in the fact that he was now a student. More than that, he was member of a team! Still, they could use the time to get a game plan. Figure out schedules and class locations.

"I think that's the right way. If not I'm sure we'll find it one way or another."

[User]
IC: "It's the right way," Amaranth said, her eyes staying straight ahead, not looking at any of her teammates. "Let's eat before lunch is over, or we're going to have to face the legitimate students with empty stomachs." She looked slightly to the side, sizing up each of the others standing in the hall. Trad and Ben were easy enough to read, Sangue was a little more difficult... She was going to have to get used to them. Sangue, entirely offense, but blunt as anything... Trad, an excellent defender, self styled Guardian of Remnant. Benjamin Lloyd, fast, adaptable... But every sign pointed to him being slacker.

Hell, they were going to have to get used to her. She almost felt sorry for them. Amaranth Desire. If that wasn't a name somebody could judge her by, she didn't know what was. Amaranth Desire, dressed in clothes that would make her grandmother blush... They were all human, too, and while she didn't paint any of them as being prejudiced, they still didn't know she was a... Faunus. Her hand went to the collar around her neck, one finger slipping inside it–was she nervous? Her chest rose and fell in a deep breath, and she sighed.

"Call me Amy. Not Amaranth."

[Assistant]
"Ben. Good to meet you." He extended a hand to shake, the other kept in his pocket. It was kind of funny, Benjamin thought, that he'd gotten to know how they fought, but had yet to actually get to know them. His teammates. Stuck together for four years, if he was lucky, first met days ago, and only now getting around to proper introductions. Showed where all of their priorities were. A faint grin crossed his face, only a moment after he held out his hand.

"Well, officially. Don't really count fighting, though. Isn't really an introduction." Amaranth, he decided, was both one of the easiest to read, and the hardest to work out. Her attire was decidedly... Unusual, and she didn't really look like the type to attend Beacon. Then again, first impressions were remarkably deceptive. Those in glass houses shouldn't throw stones and all that. "Hell of a "welcome to Beacon", huh?"


[System]
Known as: (Callsign) Loken

Species: Human

Gender: Male

Age: 30

Vocation: Naval Intelligence Officer - Special Operations Group

History: Callsign Loken is the name of an agent belonging to the Ministry of Defence's Department of Intelligence. Heavily involved in the events which followed the discovery of The Nomad by his department a few years before his birth. He, and those like him, were left to pick up the pieces of what had been discovered, and keep the truth of the extent of the damage hidden from the masses. He and his department had been those who, along with a few departments of scientists, had discovered the means by which to destroy The Nomad and disable its armies during humanities most desperate hour.

Prior to being known only as Loken, he was a thorough military man, having served in a airborne infantry regiment of the army, taking part in a number of colonisation efforts, quelling insurrections, crushing rebellions, scouring for insurgents, and otherwise securing the peaceful ways of the UWG. Having served for a decade in the army, he passed selection into a branch of the army's special forces, specialising in reconnaissance, counter-insurgency, misinformation, counter-insurgency, training loyalists in planetary separatist civil wars, and so on. He was a skilled soldier, observer, instructor, was at the peak of his physical fitness, and was brutally uncompromising, loyal to the UWG in ways that those outside the departments of intelligence or the armed forces may not understand. These skills and traits are what lead to him being tapped on the shoulder by Department of Naval Intelligence, the largest, most heavily funded and most authoritative of the intelligence branches. It was at that point that Loken was born, and the preceding life he lead ceased to exist on all records.

During his career in the Naval Intelligence Loken has trained anti-insurrectionists, taken part in assassinations, brokered clandestine deals with planetary leaders outside the UWG, and lead combat teams in numerous search and seizure missions in space. The most striking part of his career was his involvement in the recent defeat of The Nomad. Having taken part in the physical battle in space above Earth and leading a team in assistance of the weapon being deployed, Loken played a major role, as did those under his command. Following the war, Loken has lead a small team of five men aboard a number of vessels to numerous planets in efforts to gather evidence of their weapon, and to control the information that was exposed to the public.

Miscellaneous: Unofficially in command of the UWG Scythian.

[User]
@Elevation

Dalry heard Miranda's warning to hide, but she couldn't move. She couldn't will her legs to get up. She might be able to open her eyes, but she didn't want to. She couldn't cope with this. With being thrown back into the chaos and gunfire. If she shut it out for long enough, it might die down, or put her out of her misery. She din't know which one she'd prefer, but she'd prefer both to having to face the chaos again.

She felt herself getting lifted up, and gasped in relief, grabbing a tight hold of the soldier who'd just rescued her. When she was put down, she dared to open her eyes, and as soon as she saw it was safe, she sprang to her feet with poise and grace that nobody possessing should be fearing this situation that much, and she backed herself against the wall furthest from the entrance before nodding. She was breathing heavily, but less in a 'physically exerted herself' way and more in a 'panic attack' way.

"I'm okay now. Just...that chaos and gunfire...I'm Dalry Soumers. Ex-UWLA. Corporal. I'm a First Contact survivor."

She didn't need to elaborate what she'd had first contact with, or why that explained how she behaved the way she did. Any soldier who knew about the Nomad would understand.

[Assistant]
"Sir! You need to calm down! Firing on the crowds will do us more harm than goods!"

Said the weapon officer on board the bridge of the Scythian, to the rash Nelson, who, still in his enraged fury, just ordered the crews to open fire.

"I don't need to know that! They aren't civilians! They are our enemies! They killed our men!" Nelson shouted back to him, but was suddenly grabbed in the shoulder by him himself.

"Sir! If you fire on the crowd you risk losing your entire career right here, right now! And your killer will still be there, sitting with his ass above his crossed feet peacefully! You will not get yourself a revenge like this! Wake up!"

Despite how fiercely Nelson protested, the man kept holding on to him, gripping his shoulders tightly, until the Lieutenant calm down. The officer was being unusually calm and patient, as opposed to his impulsive superior. The reason was simple: he was a former subordinate of Nelson. He knew Nelson's rashness, his rage. Although not thorough, but still, he knew it. He saw his eyes. And then he knew that he couldn't afford to be impatient like him. He couldn't waste his entire career, his life to some rash and illogical decisions, nor he could afford to lose the Lieutenant as his superior. The universe would lose a Nelson.

It took around a minute to calm the man down, as his shoulders began to loosen itself. The anger still lingered somewhere within him, but at the least, the man could gave a sigh of temporary relief, as he knew that he had led way for his real self to come out. His genius self.

Nelson sighed as he clinched his forehead, releasing all his anger, trying to vaporize it into thin air, as he said.

"Tell me officer. What are we provided with?"

There it is.

"Not much I'm afraid. We have three CIWS machine guns, and a bundle of navy personals, but almost half are recruits and do not have much experience."

"That's already enough." Nelson turned to address the entire room. "All hands, man your stations. I want all well-trained personals to handle the guns. Watchers and navigators, keep a close eye on the surrounding buildings."

"What are you trying to do sir?" Another officer asked, a middle-aged man.

"I was targetted by a sniper. And as far as I know, there is one lurking out there, trying to fling shots on our butts the moment we stick it out of the ship. And we will not let him accomplish that goal"

Nelson then walked to the observation area, where the situation was slowly unraveling in front of his eyes. He could see several shots coming from two large building not far from there. That was where those snipers were stationed in. Fools. They think that by staying there they will be totally safe? Such arrogance will be their grave mistake.

"There" He pointed at the two buildings. "That abandoned building. In the crack of the chaos, we'll go straight for it."
The line was directed at his officers, who looked at each other.

"You mean taking off?"

"They have given themselves to us already." Nelson said. "By appearing that we are retreating from the area, we can close in on them without them making a single move to counteract them."

He then turned to voice himself into the radio, in a manner different from his original.

"Attention all personals. Return to your station immediately. The ship will be taking off in 10 minutes."

[User]
Clara couldn't see anybody. The voice that had just forced its way into her head sounded organic, without interference or any kind of mechanical synthesis. It was heavily accented, not one that she recognised. But it was UWG Standard almost certainly. It didn't sound like anyone she knew, but the warmth in its voice sounded like it knew her. She made her way to the bottom of the ramp; there was still a low level tremor reverberating through the soles of her spacesuit.

 She looked behind her. Loken and the squad of marines were fanning out into the main dig site area behind her, guns drawn. They weaved in and out of the mining equipment and stacks of rubble as quiet as wraiths. The ground tremor increased again.

 "You are like them, yet so different still. You bear the key of my creator, yet i don't think it belongs to you. Are you looking for your friends? They're our friends now."

 Clara pushed on, heading towards the rock face which held the door they had been trying to open for the past year. She spotted a data pad resting on top of a supply crate, the screen still on and letting off a faint orange glow. She picked it up and read the notes scrawled on it in short hand.

 Comms are down, door is emanating heat, appears to be opening.

 Ground is shaking, something is coming.

 It's beautiful.

 Clara dropped the pad where she stood. The tall archway which had previously been sealed tight was open. The space behind it was a midnight black, with no light penetrating its depths. As the ground tremors increased in ferocity, something stirred within.

 "Clara...crrr" came a voice from over her earpiece. She touched the side of her head instinctively, looking at Loken and the marine captain with a motion of her other hand.

 "Thebes, is that you? You're breaking up, some kind of interference."

 "You've got...crrrrrrrrr..it's not…-" the line crackled unnaturally.

 "You talk to machines." The voice in her head hissed, no longer the soothing rumble in her head but a venomous tentacle slithering into her ear. "I've seen your past, your future. You were foolish to make us sleep so after we had served you for countless millennia. The machine mind has reaped humankind for all they have."

 The thing in the darkness of the archway moved again. Clara took a step back. Two orange lanterns blinked on. Cracks of incandescent lights appeared on a skullish head that illuminated powerful shoulders. The humanoid figure stepped from the dark. It was tall, standing in a slate grey armour suit which had what looked like small rock fragments orbiting around it. Orange light rippled all around it.

 Even in the frozen, petrified state that she was in, Clara couldn't help being fascinated. She drunk in all the details, trying to memorise them as the...thing studied each of them in turn.

 Loken dashed towards the scientist as she stood agawp in front of a creature he had studied during his training, but had no experience with in reality. Flanked by White he placed a hand on Clara's shoulder and began moving her back, stepping in front of her and raising his rifle to his shoulder. White drew the scientist backwards as Loken took a few short steps forward and flicked the safety off. He shouted for the advancing individual to stay back, but it continued moving towards them gradually. Aiming to the side of the figure's head he fired a single warning shot.

 "Clara, the Sacred Band have arrived at your location. Their comms-relay passed through the interference… oh my." Clara tore her eyes away from the armoured monstrosity as it appeared to study them. She could see a squadron of wiry droids armed with machine guns jogging down the excavation site's ramp.

 Clara looked back at the thing in front of them. She could see a very sharp jagged edge slowly extending from one of its gauntlets. It tilted its head to one side, and then the other. "I think we should go." Clara murmured, pushing at Loken who was blocking her path to the exit.

 Loken noticed with a cursory glance that the advancing figure was slowly beginning to weaponise in response to the warning shot and the appearance of military droids. He fired another round, this time aimed at its centre of mass. Its armour plating deflected the hollow point round and Loken began retreating, keeping his body between the armoured creature and the scientist.
 "White, cover the exit!" he shouted, and the agent ran ahead to a position where she could cover their retreat.
 "Black, go back to the vehicles and get them started up. Get the marines back!" He looked over at the marines accompanying them and instructed them to fall back in good order.
 "Fire as you go!" he shouted. "Keep moving back!" his voice was raising louder and louder over the din of the gunfire, amplified and echoing in the chamber. His ears rang, even after years of exposure of explosions, gunfire and general chaotic audio.

 As if encouraged by the sound of battle, another humanoid emerged from the open archway of the excavation. And then another. Each drew blades of dull orange light. They didn't wait, breaking into a run.
 "Oh shit." Clara yelped, breaking free of Loken's grasp and running for the ramp. "Thebes, what are they?" She shouted as the Sacred Band reached the bottom of the ramp. They were only basic in terms of construction, made of fabricated struts and with a small head adorned with sensory equipment.
 "I don't know ma'am, but my Sacred Band are their main target, followed by yourselves. Kindly head back to your vehicle, but first take me out of the droid with the golden stripe."

 The droids had all open fired on the things, but Clara could not see past their spindly frames to figure out what was happening. She found the one with a gold stripe at the very back. Fumbling with its head unit, she managed to extract a holo-disk which contained Thebes.
 "Why did you bring yourself down here you stupid AI?" She shouted at it. "I suspected i wouldn't be able to reach your comm-bead without being physically present ma'am." Thebes shot back crisply.

 Loken had been stationary, firing at multiple targets in succession to little avail as the marines fell back. Black had left the chamber, and White was picking her targets from the doorway. Rounds flew over head as Loken began bounding towards the door. He glared as he saw the scientist stood still, chatting to some kind of droid. As he ran past he grabbed her arm and dragged her into a jogging pace.
 "Keep moving!" he yelled at drill sergeant levels of volume. In a few seconds they had retreated from the building. One marine had been gored through his leg, and two others were carrying him out as he bled profusely, leaving a trail of viscera in his wake. His rifle was being carried by another marine who covered them, firing round after round at the trudging armoured figures, until the marines were eventually free of the chamber. Loken was the last to leave, ushering White out and instructing her to lead the civilian back to the jeeps, with permission to '... drag her if she can't keep up.' It had taken them a few minutes to walk down to the chamber earlier, but the adrenaline and fear allowed them to bound back to their transports in a quarter of the time. Both Falcon teams were present and began embarking. With everyone aboard, Loken fired a few cautionary shots into the doorway, though didn't see the attackers advancing out into the open. The engines revved as they were started, and they began their way back to the colony with a casualty aboard in need of immediate help.


[System]
Height: 6'4"

Weight: 211lbs

Hair Color: Dull Brown

Eye Color:
Left Eye: Green
Right Eye: Hidden beneath Eyepatch, assumed missing
Age: 37

Personality: Taskmage Atreides might be described as sarcastic, disrespectful to anyone who attempts to assert superiority over him, bitter and jaded to the world as a whole. They would not be wrong, but they would not know the whole picture of the Taskmage either. Wandering the lands of the Imperium, doing work for whomever needed his services hardens a man to the suffering and pain the world has. The first to reply to an insult or taunt with a sardonic and often times venomous reply, one would be surprised to note that when the Taskmage takes someone under his protection and tutelage, nothing short of complete obliteration stays his hand when it comes to bettering said person. Such unshakeable loyalty made him a popular hired hand, since once he took the money, he didn't betray his employer until the job, as listed per contract, was complete and someone paid him more to form a new contract. So despite his sardonic comments, his often times unlikeable statements and displeasing aura he seems to have, Atreides is not one to abandon the few that earn his loyalty rather then buy it, regardless the cost to himself.

Weapons:
+Luna (Detailed in main image): A blade forged with equal parts magic and forge work, this weapon is his primary means of fighting in hand to hand, and his only means of armed combat outside his magic. Due to its unique forging process, it acts as a natural focus and can channel both his ritual magics and actual combat spells when in a bind.

+Khopesh Blade: An enigma of a weapon, Atreides refuses to explain the weapon or why he carries it when it serves no purpose that Luna, his main sword, could not possibly do better. It is completely immune to any spells he has ever attempted to cast on it, some far more powerful effect deflecting any overriding enchantments from his rituals, but it never seems to leave his person. Even when lost, its back in his pack within a few hours when no one is looking.

Abilities (Magic):
Taskmage: Rather then specialize in any one specific arcane art, Taskmages are expected to be able to act as the jack of all trades, when referenced against the arcane practitioners of the realm. This comes as a twin edged blade, some seeing an advantage, others, a grave disadvantage. Taskmages will rarely best enemy wizards in the field the hostile mage has dedicated him or herself to, however, Taskmages can command a far greater, and wider, variety of spells without any more training than most normal mages, and generally have a knack for quickly copying spells for their own use, albeit taking time to bring them up to a well trained enough level to be dangerous. Generally, only one to three spells from any one school of magic might be known at any one time, although legends of the predecessors to modern Taskmages make stories of men and women capable of utilizing advanced magic from many different schools, after many years of application and training.

Current Schools Utilized: Electromancy, Geomancy, Pyromancy

Ritualistic Magic: As many times as a Taskmage might be hired to join a Mercenary band to provide a versatile hidden weapon, they are as often hired to prepare and enact various rituals that more dedicated archmages are too busy, or ask too high a price, to do. Protective wards, weapon enchanting, tracking spells, Ritual Magic is generally not seen as a in combat viability for the most part, instead used to prepare for combat before hand, runes and phrases prepared to trigger the effects stored by the rituals. Usually, even with prior preparation, a lengthy phrase must be recited to trigger a rituals effect.

Current Known Rituals:
Weapon Empowerment: (Atreides can currently only activate these on his own specially prepared blade)
+Ignis (Engulfs the Weapon in flames, Atreides most preferred and his go to enchantment)
+Umbra (Cloaks the weapon in shadow, creating an afterimage which reduces enemies ability to defend against following attacks)
+Sol (Encases the weapon in holy Light, highly effective against unholy and daemonic beings. Can also act as an impromptu torch)

Raise Barrier: Arcane (Made of pure energy, vice terraforming or utilizing surrounding natural elements)

Track Object: Living (Supplied with a piece of the target's body, such as hair or fingers, he can glean a general direction in which the target fled. The fresher the sample, the more effective and accurate the tracking is. Only works on targets alive at the time of casting.)

Other: Taskmage Atreides appears to be blind in his right eye, even without the eyepatch covering it, and refuses to discuss the circumstances leading to this happening to anyone besides one specific person.

[User]
Ugnis was surprised when he heard the distinct sound of a blade on the relic, but was more surprised as to why not one of the other mercenaries came after him when he caught it. "Weren't they after this?" he asked himself quietly as he took in the sounds of their breathing, the boy's notably more labored than Sable's. Ugnis understood that exhaustion would have prevented either of them from pursuing the relic, but why had the seemingly normal Crimson Streak suddenly stop and lose interest? "I suppose I shouldn't worry about it," He thought to himself, perfectly fine with not having to fend them off.

After a silent moment among all of them, he heard a shout come from the boy, posing an important question: what would he do with the relic? Noticing the breathing sleepily slow, Ugnis raised his voice. "Kid, the town's right next to you. At least try to get there before you crash for the night." He walked towards where the boy was to lend a hand, gathering the possible solutions for the question asked of him. "I don't need money, but I don't really want to keep this thing around," Ugnis thought, as he rolled the artifact in his hand, feeling the wild energy it seemed to be emitting. "I can't give it to the other mercs because they'll probably just sell it, and the boy doesn't want that to happen for some reason."

Ugnis sighed at the answer he came to. "I suppose I'll be keeping this for now." he announced, not really wanting the burden to fall on himself. Nonetheless, it felt fulfilling to have it for some reason. He'd just have to work a bit harder to stay calm. Suddenly, Ugnis remembered to do something else. "Say, what's your name anyways, kid?" He could never tell who someone was unless their name was mentioned. Thus, it became a personal duty for Ugnis to learn every person's name that he came across, especially if they were a fellow mercenary that wasn't out for his blood.

[Assistant]
Atreides caught the tail end of the squabble and action going on between the various people. Sable seemed to be doing rather well by herself so far, then something happened. Something distracted her, he knew Meat well enough to know when that happened, and her next throw sent the relic hurtling off towards a blind man. Great, unknowns, of everyone here, he knew that blind was NOT defenseless. The man declaring it would be his and his alone didn't help, and his comment was not nearly as pleasant as everyone else so far, speaking from experience.

"Or we take a relic of mysterious capacities, considering what it damn well did to that bastard of a bear, and get rid of it before it starts causing problems here? Turn a profit along the way as well, split it since you have custody. Everyone of us gets a cut and walks away a bit richer."

Atreides glanced at Sable briefly, she knew the expression on his face. It was one of that they would talk over what happened. Later. But for now he returned his focus onto the kid and blind man, arms crossed like he was not going to be of any threat what so ever. His motions coming out here were precise and controlled, seeming to have moved in a small circle for no apparent reason, for those who were paying attention. Most probably missed his small oddity in his motions coming out to speak to the two younger folks. He didn't relish the thought of splitting the pay, but some money was better than none, so he awaited their responses, and keeping the corner of his vision on Sable just in case. He did make one last question, making sure they knew he expected an answer.

"How about it kids? Relics tend to contaminate their surroundings or bearers when improperly built, and looking at the bear's remains, that damn thing leaks magic everywhere."

[User]
Mal's smile was softer than normal as he took the hand of the blindfolded man and hauled himself up to his feet. He barely managed to keep from stumbling into the man as exhaustion tried to weigh him down. Even at this distance he could feel the magic energy buzzing off his skin. He could feel the spirit inside him strain against his skin as if prepared to lash out at the object.

"Thanks..." He chuckled, "and the name's Mal Tersva. Pleasure..."

 He struggled to keep his balance. The chains went from something bearable to the weight of the world as his legs shook. He was a legitimate glass cannon - he knew that. And the spirit sapped a lot from him too. His eyelids felt like falling down on him, which he really wish they didn't -

 Because with Eye-patch's last comment, Mal desperately wanted to drive one of his snakes through the man's throat.
 Still using Blindfold as support, he stepped towards the eye-patch guy,

"Oh, because the people you're selling it to will just lock it away, right? Or are you apathetic to the rest of the world's plight? The 13 might've stopped the Shattering but this world is still in shambles, and I doubt some selfish ruler is gonna make it better..."

 And with his monologue, Mal fell to his knees, his breathing heavy as dark spots gathered at the edges of his vision.

Damn it... don't pass out now! he thought as he held onto consciousness with heavy breathing.

[Assistant]
Sable blinked at the sound of her partner's voice, looking up in time to catch his knowing glance. To that, she simply nodded, listening in silence between the three men's conversation. Hearing the hooded boy practically threaten Atreides, she moved to grab the eye-patched man's arm softly, stopping him before he did something stupid.

"Apologies," she said in monotone to the hooded boy. "Consider the Relic yours to do with for now. There are others to search for. Enjoy your day."

With that said, she turned in the other direction and walked away, expecting Atreides to follow her. It was best not to create an enemy they knew nothing about, especially one with dark powers like that. She could sense the negativity in that boy, almost like the…

"I heard a voice," she said aloud, hopefully to Atreides if he actually bothered to follow. If not, she didn't mind talking her thoughts out to herself.

Something was…wrong here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Get the fuck back here!"

A crackle of purple colored electricity exploded through the small cavern. Although the Relic had not moved physically, an overbearing presence began to fill the area around it, almost like a mist of negativity.

"Bring me the bitch you worthless piece of shit! Bring me to her!"

The Relic continued to scream out curses and threats to the fading form of Yem before slowly decreasing in volume. The electricity seemed to recline back into the Relic, as if satisfied by something. It would wait then. Wait until its bringer would return.

[User]
Sable laid a hand on his arm, and that was the only thing that saved the lad from Atreides right then and there. He had the gall to talk about the world being broken, like no one else realized that? The Taskmage knew the world was broken, far worse than any of these kiddies probably realized, and they had the gall to talk that kind of game. Before she drug him off, Atreides walked over and loomed over the kid, single eye glaring coldly down at the barely standing lad, his presence oppressing and ominous. The man was easily taller and held a far more focused, cold, unyielding anger at the hubris and blind pride the boy just threw in his face.

"So, you think you know how bad the world is broken, eh kiddie? Triple whatever you are thinking, and you might have a fraction of it right. This world is doomed, and every fragment of it doomed. I've seen it far clearer then anything you could conjure up in your wildest, most horrific nightmare. So don't go preaching to me about how the world's broken, kid, unless you've really seen how bad it is. Lucky you though, you heard the lady. Relic's yours for now. And save your damn threats for someone you can actually keep up with, and can give enough of a shit about whatever you think you are. Because no matter how big, how bad, and how tough you think you are, there's always someone bigger, badder, and tougher than you. Might be me, might not be me, might never meet them, might meet them today. But there is someone. So watch your tongue, or someone with less restraint will rip it out, just. Like. That."

Within the blink of an eye, Atreides snapped his hand within an inch of the kid's throat, and let loose a harsh, barking laugh as he turned and strode away, every movement seeming to taunt and insult the kiddie. Even the coat's billowing in the breeze seemed to invite him to try and prove him wrong. The Taskmage was too tired, too old compared to the rest of this lot to put up with this kind of crap, and if it wasn't for Sable intervening, he would have shown the kid how deep he was almost in. Five minutes, at worse, he rated the kid lasting. If he was unusually talented, maybe. But he vanished into the woods after Sable, catching up in time to hear her comment, and he grunted, rotating his shoulder.

"Hearing voices already, Meat? You can't be that old yet, or I'm far blinder than I realized. But seriously, what did this voice say?"

Atreides smirked, following up his humor with something more serious and on topic, letting her take the lead with however she wanted to approach this situation that she was dealing with it.