[System]
Race: Human (Sirpar born)
Age: 27
Occupation: ex-Smuggler (on paper at least), Muscle for hire.
Appearance: -
Like all humans born on his planet, Jacque is large and strongly built, standing at approximately 6'3" and weighing in at 92kg. His skin is a dark shade of brown- a result of the intense light of the sun on Sirpar and his eyes are dark grey. Jacque's body sports a few old and badly healed scars from a combination of deals that went sour, narrow escapes, and altercations during his time in prison.

Gear: Jacque keeps with him the basics like hygienic products and clothing, his more noteworthy possessions are:

* Welding goggles (he swears he feels naked without them after having worn them for so long back on his planet)
* DC-15 Blaster Carbine
* De-10 Blaster Pistol
* Vibro-dagger
* Hand held Comm device

Backstory up until flying on the [insert ship name here]: A native to the heavy gravity planet of Sirpar, Jacque was born into a normal, loving, all around unremarkable family. His life was originally just that as well: Unremarkable. The problem started around the age of fifteen when he started calling the wrong sort of people his friends. It started harmless enough: A delivered package there, a back alley deal there, but after a while Jacque found himself being roped into doing more and more risky things. By the time he'd hit eighteen he was a full blown smuggler, running anything from drugs to guns, to living people. He wasn't particularly fond of everything he did, but the money was good and he was in too deep to try and break it off without a solid reason. At twenty he began doing off world runs, hoping from planet to planet, system to system, gaining fortune and contacts alike as he ran whatever he was given.
For a little while he began looking into try to get his reputation up by dealing with a few Hutts, however all chances at that were shot out of the sky after a raid landed him in a prison cell with more than enough contraband to keep him there for the next decade at the very least. After calling in near every favor he was owed Jacque managed to shorten his sentence to about six and a half years, after which he spent the next six months gathering a few supplies he promptly fell in with a crew that seemed interested in the same line of work he was in. Being that he did get arrested for the exact thing they were hiring him to help with the rag tag group was naturally a bit hesistant, however as Jacque had both experience in the trade and a few contacts under his belt he was eventually accepted into the fold. The fact that he was also far and away one of the cheapest available options that wasn't a green horn or an undercover cop/bounty hunter certainly helped as well.

Propositions for shared backstory: Jacque's time spent as an off world smuggler was short but incredibly productive. The fact that he's willing to smuggle any thing for the right price means that there's a slim chance he may have done business with either crew members or people with which the crew members are familiar.

[User]
"Copy that Fixer. Let us know if something goes wrong in there, we'll...yell at you to fix it before we explode, or something." A deep and rumbling voice grunted mirthlessly. The owner of this voice was a large and somewhat rugged looking man by the name of Jacque Marduk, who was currently in the process of ensuring everything would be ready for the next job. It was a bit redundant, what he was doing, as clean ups were preformed shortly after the job had been completed. Still, Jacque liked the extra security that came with personally going over everything himself. He also enjoyed being able to do something aboard the ship until a job required his specific skill set or something heavy needed to be moved. Jacque was not a fan of being idle for too long. Idle hands made no credits.

Only when everything was exactly as he wanted to be did Jacque decide to stop. Once more the smuggler raised the comm to his mouth and thumbed the button as he started making his way to the upper deck, "Everything's clear down low. There's bit of corrosion on the hinges of the bay door though. Not sure what it's from, but we may have to look into that when we get planet side again.".
Once topside the slightly brighter lights of the upper deck reflected off of the man's goggles as he slid them up onto his shaven head. A pair of stone grey eyes flicked back and forth scanning, searching for something, a machine of great importance. When that machine was found the smuggler offered up a small smirk of satisfaction and strode over to it purposefully. Jacque reached out and pressed one of the buttons on the device. This mythical, almost holy device known as the Caf dispenser.

Jacque reached over to the nearby counter and plucked up a styrofoam cup, using his free hand to strum the top of the machine rhythmically with his fingers as the rich aroma of the brewing beverage filled the air. What fortune would this day bring? He could only wonder.

[Assistant]
Krus had instantly headed to his room to count the day's profits. This territory belonged to the First Order, so he had left all of his special merchandise on board. However, being the kleptomaniac he was, Krus had managed to snatch some droid parts from the mining colony. He could already imagine the credits he'd get from them when the group would arrive to their next destination. Credits, yes. Loooots of credits. And more.

The Neimoidian's thoughts were interrupted by Fixer's voice on the main channel. It seems like we're finally making a leave, then. He got up, placed the droid parts in a container and marched out of the door, heading towards the ship's galley.

[User]
"Well that's just great..."

Gavon surveyed the ship's utility readouts, tapping firmly on the indicator lights above REFRESHER STATION WATER MAIN flickering between a crimson and amber color.

"So much for investing in quality amenities". He sighed, a slightly irritated look on his face.

He'd acquired the Enforcer One, an SCT Scout Class light vessel from a liberated shipyard near the outer rim, compliments of the First Order. Since their ascension to military power in the wake of the fallen Empire, their reach knew no bounds, so much so that they had little trouble amassing large collections of star ships in every class, both transport and warships. Enforcer One was an older Imperial model from even before Emperor Palpatine's rise to power, used generally for long-distance reconnaissance and quick escapes. It's agile maneuverability, short range cannons, non-reflective exterior paint, and reliable cloaking drive capabilities made it a great ship to strike out and slip away unnoticed. But, for all intents and purposes, it was a ship designed to remain in the shadows of space.

In an effort to allow their Agent to focus on his appointed targets, the First Order assigned an EV-12 droid to pilot the ship, freeing up Gavon from any real navigational duties. The idea intrigued him, considering that his piloting skills were not as refined as he would've liked, so relying on a fully functioning nav droid capable of calculating hyperspace coordinates in nanoseconds, deciphering ship codes, and landing without any incident wasn't a bad deal. And, to top it off, the droids vocal modulator came preprogrammed with a much more appealing female voice than the default option. Overall, his suspicions continued to lay with the notion that his new employers simply wanted to keep a tight reign on their new asset.

It's all business, afterall, no matter whose side you're on.

"E-V, were those noted repairs made to the hyperdrive while I was on recon earlier?" Gavon asked the ship droid, it's mechanical, tinkering hands busily pressing buttons and pulling levers for pre-flight testing.

"Affirmative Agent, the Pressy's Tumble maintenance crew was able to assess and repair the issue within 865.19 nanominutes. A rather impressive time"

"Agreed, and not a second too late, as our targets were boarding their ship when I last saw them. Let's get this can warmed up. I don't want to be here any longer than needed."

The Agent leaned back in his chair, a momentary thought of the last few days flashed across his mind. The proxy droid who was initially sent by the First Order to seek him out was essentially a messenger, but the fact that it arrived at his apartment doorstep in Nar Shaddaa armed with a military grade blaster and a chest piece full of live explosives didn't make the message any less threatening. However, it made the point understood: Heed our commands or die.

Their instructions were clear indeed, as the ex-Imperial intelligence agent was once again being reassigned to work for the First Order, no questions asked, and under a clause that he would only receive payment upon completion of the job. A damn Bounty Hunter. This wasn't him at all, but he knew why the Order wanted him, and they knew he wouldn't refuse the summons.

The mission seemed rather cut and dry, which entailed him to seek out the listed smugglers, track their whereabouts, and retrieve stolen cargo belonging to the First Order. Gavon couldn't help but snort at that last bit, considering whatever "stolen cargo" it was most likely belonged to someone else beforehand. But, at this point, it wasn't his call to make.

His thoughts, instead went far beyond that...

"I'm coming home soon little girl" He mumbled to himself.

The toughest aspect of his assignment was leaving Nar Shaddaa and his adopted Togruta daughter, Uriah, who was left in the care of his previous employer, Madam Z'noshe, until his return. An up-front payment of substantial credits went to Z'noshe for her assurance that Uriah had proper schooling, supplies, room, and boarding. He had his reservations about the blue-skinned Chiss art dealer taking on responsibilities such as that, but while in her employ for almost a year prior, he'd grown to admire the female alien's moral stance on a personal and professional level. And besides, he had no other choice but to trust her.

"Agent TreVayne" Gavon suddenly snapped out of his reverie. "Sir, scanners are picking up the Milano departing out of docking bay three and their pace is quickening."

"Ok, E-V, take us out, slow and steady. Are the tracking modules calibrated and ready to be launched?"

"Affirmative, we may tag their ship when in range. The units have a subspace transmitter that should allow us to track the signals in-"

"Yes, yes, I know how they work E-V, just keep an eye on their ship please…"

Gavon pulled up a recent holomap on the console in the middle of the bridge which highlighted the various trade routes and coordinates that have been likely used in the last several months. After a few moments of studying the routes, he shook his head.

"It'd be foolish for them to follow these coordinates. I doubt this is where they're headed. E-V, fire the tracking mods when ready. I'd be interested to see where these scoundrels bugger off to".

"Sir, if I may, we are being hailed by Pressy's Tumbler command. I will open the channel now"

The channel opened up with the crackling of static, mostly due to the surrounding asteroid field interference, followed by a nasally voice on the other end.

"Ship with departure number 1925FW, please slave your navigations to channel 1925FW-2 for guidance to the check-point. Do you have anything to declare?"

"Negative Command, we've brought nothing aboard, however your maintenance crew did repair a minor engine malfunction we incurred during our travels. It's been logged in your system I assure you."

The Agent half-smiled. Since this particular station was run by the First Order, a series of access "release codes" were given to him based on various sectors of the galaxy, essentially lowering any red flags or allowing passage in and out of occupied territory. They would know soon enough that he was an Agent of their masters. Gavon punched in the fifteen-digit alphanumeric code into the console and sent it back to Command.

"Sir, the Milano is within range. Four targeting modules have been fired away and locked onto the target."

Gavon leaned against the navigation console, allowing a heavy breath to escape his lungs, before focusing his sights on the large freighter-class ship known as the Milano.

"Ok scumbags. Check. Your move"

[Assistant]
"No, no, no! Fur ze last time! I Kan't know if zere's an incongruenze in ze Negativ Energy Connector if you zon't tell mich!"

Up in the control station, Fixer was arguing with the ship's computer. Phisically. His comm device was plugged into the machine. He should had been able to silently speak with it... but he was franctically introducing commands in the keyboard as well as pointing and yelling at the computer with his spare limbs.

"Rogerroger: Of course wie are receiving smll Impakts! I'll check on those later: zis is an asteroid fild, damnit! Get som energy from ze veapons to die shield. Nein! Die Reserve Energy is fur der slave circuit. You vant us lost&vaporized out zere?"

The droid became silent for a moment. He seemed to be concentrated in some hidden part of the screen: "Vhatt?!" "No, I zon't zink Musuka can drive you zrug dat fiild!"

Definetly, the nerves were worsening the problem with his vocabulator. Finally he disconnected from the computer and headed towards the low poop levels again: "Fine! I vill run a test. AGAIN! But If you happen to be ok, I svear to ze Maker I shall have your memory viped out!. You're perkier zan a freaking R5!... Mynocks... ze zinks a droid has to hear. Ze nexte vill be Banthas or somezing like zat. Now, let's see if I rremember die Passwort..."

[User]
Completely unaware of the looming threat of the bounty hunter on their tails, Jacque allowed himself a moment's rest on the galley's couch with his cup of caf, during which he was treated by a brief, yet somewhat amusing show as he witnessed Fixer come from the control room and make his way back towards the lower levels, ranting and raving like a mad man as he went. Jacque gave a small snort of laughter as he watched the droid, though as with many times in the past he found himself unsure of whether he was more amused by Fixer's behavior, or by the droid's strange accent.

Catching sight of Krus, Jacque rose from his seat and moved towards the Neimodian, pausing briefly at the Caf machine again to top off his drink, as well as pour a fresh cup for the older alien. "So, what're we looking at in terms of profits today, Lionen?" He asked when he get close enough to extend the fresh cup to Krus. Back when he was still a solo act Jacque had more or less learned the ins and outs involved with proper budgeting. But that was back when he was solo. Jacque was not a businessman; he was a mover. A fairly talented and informed mover, but a mover nonetheless. This was something he accepted. Krus however knew how to run a business, and it was because he knew how to run a business that Jacque found little issue in leaving the budgeting to the alien.


[System]
Gender: Male

Age: 21

Occupation: Chieftain of Runheim, Viking Raider

Skills and Possessions: Wyrm, a old but sturdy sword that has run in Haakon's family for many years. Haakon also carries an axe and a seax style knife on his belt at all times.

Personality: Haakon is young and a little overwhelmed at the idea of being a chieftain. He is generally easy going, listens to wise counsel when it's offered, but is occasionally frustrated and rush's into situations he is not prepared for. He follows all the gods of the Aesir and the Vanir, but he holds Odin the Allfather above all others. Across his back, he has a tattoo of Odin's sacred animal: a Raven.

History: When Harald Ivarson, Jarl of Runheim, succumbed to a plague that cut through the village, everyone looked to Haakon for guidance. The chieftain's only remaining son, Haakon believes the only way to save Runheim is by bringing wealth from abroad. He now looks for experienced warriors and sailors from far and wide to take him to the Emerald Isle.

The plague burned through the village of Runheim like a wildfire, and as many as two in five were killed. Among these were Jarl Harald, his eldest son Egil, and Egil's young wife Hilda. Haakon survived, along with his mother and Egil's daughter Gunhilde, who is no older than three summers.

Along with the people, the harvest also suffered, and the tithe to the King Horik cannot be paid. If the King does not get his due, he will surely punish the village. Without any other options, Haakon takes the only raiding ship in the village and proposes an out of season raid to the east. If sucessful, Haakon can save his people and rebuild their lives. If he fails, then he can only hope that Valhalla will accept him.

[User]
The snow bit deep into Haakon, who was without a cloak and only had his leather tunic and breeches to protect him. This is wrong. he thought. I'm not supposed to be here. The frozen expanse of ice desert lay in front of him, with nary a man, beast or tree in sight. Though he saw no point in going on, his feet moved on. As he did, the wasteland only grew longer and longer and longer. The Jarl walked for what seemed like hours, and soon the cold was too much for him.

He fell to his knees, his hands and feet burning with frostbite, and Haakon wanted nothing more than to curl up into a ball and die. Before he could will his limbs to move, something ahead of him struck the snow. He looked ahead of him and saw a tall man, wearing a long black coat and a wide brimmed hat. In his left hand, he carried a spear with it's haft buried in the snow. On each shoulder, the man had a pair of large ravens. Haakon could not see the man's eyes, but the eyes of the ravens peered into Haakon, almost looking through him.

"Odin..." was all that Haakon could muster. As the words left his mouth, the man brought out his right hand. In his fist was a gold chain, and dangling from it was what looked like a pendant. It seemed as though he wanted Haakon to take it. The Jarl reached for it, but it seemed so far away...
---
"Haakon! Wake up!" said the voice ringing in the Jarl's ear. Haakon opened his eyes and saw the familiar face of Snorri, his thane. Haakon grunted as he pulled the sea-soaked cloak off of him and got up. Snorri pointed towards the front of the ship. "Land sighted ahead, only a few miles out."

Sure enough, through the ocean fog, Haakon saw the rough shape of land. The Jarl nodded. "Prepare the men for landfall." Snorri, who was old even when Jarl Harald was young, nodded and began to bark orders. Haakon himself reached for his bundle of equipment. He pulled on his mail shirt and lashed his family's sword to his belt, praying to the gods as he did so. "Odin, far-wanderer, grant me wisdom, courage, and victory. Friend Thor, grant me your strength. And both be with me."

[Assistant]
Clan MacConnich sat a top a great plunging coastline, steep cliffs on all sides. Their great hall, home to their laird chieftain was the first thing to the crest jutting sea-cliff, as if ready to pierce the sky. The homes of all other kin and workers embraced it on the other side, till the land suddenly swept out into vast fields, moors and rolling hills. One could ride for miles and still only see the vast sea of green, before getting to the dense forest. It was beautiful land for farming and flocking.

The great serpent ship had been spotted through the morning sea mist, and people were chattering with excitement and fear. Only tales of the great invaders at reached Clan MacConnich, luckily never invaders themselves. Till today that was. The rail-thin Christian father who usually invited clan kinsmen into the small chapel, now shut up his windows and doors. He fell to his knees before a wooden crucifix to mumble furiously prayers and other such nonsense as warriors demanded him to take up sword and follow them.

Even the widow baker was taking up arms to defend their clan, though all women, children and sickly were insisted to stay in their homes or gather in the Great Hall for fortification. Just in case things got too dicey and the wolves of the sea couldn't be persuaded to leave in peace. It could be hours before the ship's sailors touched land, but the chieftain had heard enough tales to not want to take chances. In fact he was to lead all armed men out to surround the cape, just in case the sea-wolves decided they could try to take on the entire clan of farming warriors. And inside the chieftain's home another self-proclaimed warrior wish to fall to her clan's aid. Just is case, of course, just in case.

Aibhilin was just leaving her exasperated father's study when she came across quite a sight wait for her in the corridor. It had taken her hours to convince her father to let her go with him and his warriors to greet rather unwelcome guests in a dragon-like ship that rested in the sea's arms at their coast. So really she should of been expecting this. But in truth the sight itself caught her by surprise.

Her three younger sister, all standing in a neat row in the hallway, all with crossed arms. All glaring at her. Brae, who was eight-and-ten years had her brown hair all pinned up and back, looked the fiercest. The eldest of the three younger girl, she was mature but had a sharp tongue and an even sharper temper. Just their mother. Dolina, six-and-ten years with her black hair in one thick braid, looked cold and calm however. She wasn't one for showing much strong emotion, but when she did it was like a tempest at sea. And the youngest at only three-and-ten years of age, Muira, with her wild fair hair stuck with rosemary, just looked like she was sulking. To Aibhilin, they were all sulking children usually, but today they looked mature. And scared.

"What's wrong wit' you lot then?" the eldest red-haired daughter put a hand on her hip and raised a brow. It wasn't like her sisters to leave their self-claimed posts around the household. This was certainly a special occasion. Even if the fear in each one of their eyes unnerved her.

"Yer goin' off wit' Father, aren't ye Aibhi?" Brae fumed with her round face flushed, "It's too dangerous to be goin' to see to sea-wolves and you know it!"

"Will no' see you gettin' yerself hurt," Dolina said cooly, her deep green eyes betraying her concern for their eldest sister, "It's no place fer a woman to be at a meetin' with warriors. Especially with those kinds of warriors."

"They're Vikings!" Muira squealed at her older sisters, before turning to Aibhilin, "They take food, livestock, women, make people their slaves-! They're worse than wolves! They're nigh bit closer to monsters!"

Aibhilin's face softened at the youngest and most dramatic sister of hers. Putting a hand on the fair head, she combed its feather-fine tresses with her fingers, which made the youngling relax a bit. Looking up at Brae and Dolina, she could see their features soften just a bit. Their mother had once combed their hair like that when they had been but wee things at the knee. Gathering together the three younger sisters hugged Aibhilin, who in turn petted each one on the head.

"Father and his warriors will be all tha' the sea-wolves shall see," her voice was soft as she tried to ease their concerns, "And if they are drunk-with-seawater mad enough to try anythin', our steel is all they shall feast on tonight." Her sisters didn't look as quite as convinced as she would of liked, but she gave them one last warm grin. "I'm bringin' my bow," she gave them a confident huff, "I'll be fine! Now go help get the Great Hall fortified. They'll need you three and all yer creative talents to keep that place warm, clean and well-fed." Her sisters were hesitant so she gave them a bit of a push. "Off wit' ye! Everythin' has ta be ready before the ship lands!"

Aibhilin watched her sisters dart off. At least that would keep them busy and their minds off of worse case scenario. Touching the pendant around her neck, she closed her eyes and took a long deep breath in. "Oh, Scathach, Goddess of women warriors, watch over me," she whispered from behind the pendant, "Camalus, Great Sword of the Sky, God Who Sees All, lets us all be safe..." Closing her eyes, she let the last of her trembling leave her. Looking up with fierce green eyes, she straightened her back and held her head high, marching off to fetch her bow and horse. Her father and her kinsmen were daft if they thought they were going to the cape without her.

[User]
Haakon tried his best to ignore the shakes, but it was near to hopeless. The best he could ask for is that none of his men saw him. He was supposed to be a leader and a strong warrior, but he had absolutely no combat experience. He was trained well, but nothing can prepare you for the thunder and fire of battle.

He kept these thoughts to himself as the boat crunched on the rocky beach and his men departed. Haakon took his thirty men secured their beachhead, making sure that there wasn't an ambush waiting for them. Satisfied, Haakon ordered his men to immediately start for the castle fort on the top of the nearby cliff.

Haakon marched with Snorri, who shouldered his two-handed axe. That axe, along with his brute strength and even more brute face earned Snorri the nickname of "Troll". The older man embraced it, and occasionally teased the small children of Runheim.

"You were wise to move us now, my lord. If we are lucky, whoever holds that tower won't mobilize before we are on top of him." said Snorri. The older man trained both Haakon and his brother in the warrior arts, and considered both of them to be his children.

Haakon only nodded. He could feel the hour of battle drawing nearer, and it unsettled him immensely. Snorri a conciliatory hand on Haakon's shoulder. "It is good that you are afraid. Fear makes you sharp, and I know of many "brave" men who sleep on the red snow." The jarl nodded. "I just don't want to make a fool of myself on my first outing."

Snorri laughed. "I think you will do fine, lad. You are your father's son, and you won't-" The pair were interrupted when one of Haakon's scouts ran up to the both of them. "Riders from the fort, with armed men behind! I count at least sixty, maybe more!" the raider told his Jarl.

"So much for luck holding out." said Haakon. "We can't fight that many. We can make them regret it if they try to attack us, but it would be inevitable." Snorri spit at the ground and spoke. "There are too many people at home depending on us for us to throw our lives away. Maybe we can negotiate."

Haakon halted his men in a field, while Snorri and himself walked a few dozen paces away. They were well within bow shot, and Haakon's men could charge in if there was trouble. For now, though, the pair waited for their host to show himself.


[System]
Age: 17
Gender: Female
Race: Otter Faunus
Weapon: At the center of Beryl's combat abilities is an elegant sword named Stream, a beautiful curved blade that appears to glisten in the light much like it's namesake. With a golden hilt inlaid with aquamarine gems, every inch of the blade evokes the image of a current of water flowing through the air. The silver blade curves towards the very end and is inlaid in an archaic Mistralese script. As if to further evoke it's namesake, strands of gold from the hilt crawl up the sides of the blade, blending into the metal blade like rapids in a stream.

However Stream is not just a pretty weapon, with the simple press of a button the blade extends into many small pieces connected by a thin string of carbon nanofiber. In this form the blade is akin to a whip, that Beryl is capable of expanding and contracting at will. If the sword form of Stream is a strong current cutting through the rapids, the whip form is a whirlpool of water devouring and capturing all that lies in its wake.

The final trick up Stream's arsenal is the ability to infuse it with dust rounds adding an extra layer of versatility to an already formidable and beautiful weapon.
Specialty: The lack of a gun form consigns Beryl to a mid to close range assault on enemies. While for some this might be tricky, Beryl is capable of navigating the center of the battlefield with ease. Through the use of her semblance and weapon she is capable of manipulating the flow of enemies whether through ensnarement, redirection, or a myriad of other tricks. In this way Beryl keeps the battlefield more manageable for her team and ensures their continued success.

However if crowd control isn't required, Beryl is more than adept at inflicting large doses of damage thanks to the lacerating effects of her blade or the dust rounds stored within. Thus if need be Beryl can quickly chop individuals or crowds of enemies down as she cuts through the battlefield. In this way her high damage output can make quick work of particularly troublesome opponents.
Semblance: Aqua Vitae - Beryl is capable of detecting water as well as controlling it in a telekinetic fashion. This flows well into her usage of Stream as she coats it in a thin sheet of water while in segmented form allowing for a much finer level of control than would otherwise be possible.
Personality: Like water, Beryl is one who goes with the flow of life, she tends to be a little laid back and easygoing allowing each day to flow on past. However while she may be rather relaxed, one should not confuse this with a lack of conviction, push too hard in one direction or another and Beryl will push back just as hard. The strength of her conviction can perhaps be best seen in her tireless crusade against injustice. Beryl is the first to fight for the oppressed and defend those she sees being trampled. The one thing that Beryl can not stand is injustice and engaging in such deplorable acts is the surest way to acquire her wrath.

Much of Beryl's hatred to injustice comes from her upbringing as a rather devout follower of the Church of Mistral. She strongly believes in the church's calls for charity, tolerance and courage. As such, Beryl often applies such teachings to her daily life and thus treats all people with the same level benevolence and kindness. In fact it is not uncommon to see Beryl praying before battles or looking towards her religion for guidance. Ultimately, Beryl's religion is a very fundamental aspect of her core being.

Of course none of this should dissuade the notion that Beryl is deprived of fun, on the contrary Beryl greatly enjoys life and all the fun it provides. In terms of hobbies she greatly enjoys listening to music on her Sonee Strollman, which possesses a vast library spanning many genres. In addition she greatly enjoys swimming and spending time in the water, as well as travelling across many different locales. As one could probably surmise from the aforementioned, Beryl is a lover of the outdoors.
Something of an odd quirk that nobody seems to know how it became such, Beryl can be absolutely clueless as to the effect some of her actions can have on other people. A particularly low moan, extensive stretching in less than loose clothing, a full body hug. Absolutely zero clue about certain effects on others.
Color: Aquamarine
Emblem: A streak of aquamarine in a sort of thin "S" shape.
Appearance:

Somewhat on the taller side at 5' 10" Beryl is usually seen wearing loose athletic clothing, blue jeans and a black T-shirt being the most common. Instead of the ears that most Faunus have Beryl has a rather muscular tail extending from the base of her spine that is the same glossy black as her hair.

[User]
Gratia Mindaro – An Old Friend

Vitoria held the onyx gaze for some time before her eyes drifted downward to the cargo Gratia carried with her. She casually lowered her blade so that it softly caressed Bianca's pale skin.  "Her cries while we were torturing her," Vitoria said beginning a story in the middle, as if Gratia could hear her thoughts. She seemed to turn the blade on Bianca's fair skin but immediately lifted it, giving Gratia a playful gaze her face was strange now. She wasn't like Gratia had met her. There was a desperation, her makeup was starting to run, and her eyes were tired and confused.  "They were intoxicating." She said with a grin so wide it threatened to rip the corners of her mouth. Her eyes quickly darted back up to Gratia.  "I don't think we need you, you bitch."

With those words, Vitoria's attack began – though slightly weaker than what she had meant for, she thrusted her blade downwards, aiming for Gratia's arm or Bianca's throat, thinking she would inevitably hit one of them. She also seemed to reach out to grab Gratia's wrist with her left hand, perhaps to pull Bianca away or any other reason.

VGNB – Shit Hits the Fan

The Faunus leapt over Demetrius' sweeping leg and as he brought it back in towards she lashed out with her blade. Demetrius pulled his gaze from her eye line in order to deflect the blade ever so slightly with his knife. Though as she activated the electricity charge in the weapon he felt his hand tense uncomfortably around his knife as it was conducted by the weapon. He successfully retreated back to where Napoli had stood, afterwards picking up his second dagger that Napoli had deflected earlier.

Demetrius exercised his hand, tightening it and shaking it slightly until it felt useful enough to use, once more he took Beryl's gaze.

He walked towards her while brandishing his knives, speaking in a slow methodical tone.  "Why are you here, girl?" He said, his voice lashing out. Regardless of her answer he would attempt to quickly stab her mid-section the knife in his right hand once he reached her, extending his arm and turning his body to the right in order to limit her counter attack options.

[Assistant]
Beryl Harken- B- Crazy Old Guy With Knives

Has this been some other baddie in need of a thrashing Beryl would have been fine with the banter that normally accompanied such an encounter. In this particular instance though she had the seeking suspicion that she would live longer the less she engaged with him. As such she said nothing.

Besides she was a liiiitle weirded out by the fact that he had just shrugged off enough electricity to put a fully grown thug on the ground. All this seventy something old guy showed was some hand cramps. Aura or not, that was just plain abnormal.

She acted before he could move into knife range. Spinning low with Stream extended and scrapping the ground she activated the second dust charge in the weapon. Ice spread out from where the blades hit the wet ground, turning the layer of water into one of ice.

Then just for good measure she continued to spin as she rose. The move sending her blade on a course to swing around and impact with Demetrius' side. If he used his knife to block it would simply whip around and hit the arm holding the knife. Maybe even wrap around the man himself, considering how close he was and the length of her weapon.

[User]
Gratia Mindaro - À la lanterne!

A pale hand smacked at the knife, the force of the sudden blow redirecting the direction of its thrust away from the vulnerable throat of the prone form hugged tightly against her body. The atmosphere grew thick and heavy, as if an oppressive, invisible pressure had descended from the heavens, suffocating the air with clouds upon clouds of choking, cloying emotion. Clouds of seething hot hatred. Clouds of heart wrenching disgust.

Clouds of immeasurably cold fury.

"Bravissimo!" said the Huntress, her tone full of a strange, distorted cheer. "For some sort of professional criminal, you're slower on the fucking uptake than a brain-dead slug! I never expected that you could be such a drooling incompetent that you even surprised me with your level of shittiness!"

She easily hefted the mission objective into a fireman's carry with one arm, and the once dull countenance of her face split open into a large, bestial grin, baring her elongated canines at Vitoria. Her icy gaze had reached absolute zero, and reflected in those irises ... was anticipation.

"I almost feel sorry for you motherfuckers."

Gratia Mindaro giggled.

"That was a joke~~~~~bEcAUSe oTheRWise i WoULDn't ENjOy tHiS!"

Her free hand grabbed her carbine and fired into Vitoria's left kneecap.

SHE HATED HATED HATED HATED HATED HATED HATED HATED HATED HATED HATED

THE BITCH WOULD FUCKING BURN

[Assistant]
Gratia Mindaro – An Old Friend

Bianca grunted as Gratia albeit gently, threw her over her shoulder. A bit of blood escaped her mouth as she coughed. "It's okay, I'm fine." Bianca managed to choke out. "Do it." She said quietly.

Vitoria's eyes shot wide open as she attempted to side step the carbine, however found her leg to be slower than she assumed. The bullet exited her thigh and she let out a shrill and desperate cry. She landed from her side step heavy, like a bag of bricks. Gratia would notice the man at the end of the parking lot heard the gun shot and began running towards the pair of girls. He, seemed tired.

Vitoria cursed and pulled another blade from her thigh. She threw a single knife at Bianca's back that was over Gratia's shoulder. Throwing another at Gratia's leg. She struggled to maintain balance as she did this, stumbling out into the parking garage, allowing for Gratia to exit the elevator. Vitoria opened her maw to snap back at Gratia. But she found nothing, losing her words in Gratia's giant, bloodthirsty grin.

VGNB – Shit Hits the Fan

Demetrius was an older man. He was slowing down. The ice came up from Stream and he was forced once more to tear his gaze from his prey, and salvage his arm. The ice seemingly melting around his aura. Seemingly predicting him being able to block the ice, Beryl continued her onslaught attacking Demetrius, an attack made to be impossible to block. But he found himself trying. He immediately raised his arm to stop the blade, but once it made contact with his knife it swung around it lacerating his arm.

He pulled.

Demetrius' lower portion of his arm did not follow.

Demetrius smiled an uncanny smile as he glared downwards where his limb once was. Beryl could see the blood stop flowing. It began to clot and eventually stopped bleeding altogether, in a matter of seconds. Almost as if he was controlling his blood in a telekinetic fashion. With a deranged glare he looked back up at Beryl. "You understand now, right?" Demetrius cackled. "Why my children call me greedy?"

[User]
Gratia Mindaro - Madame La Guillotine

Gratia caught the first knife with her teeth, ignoring the second that barely even managed to cut at her trouser leg. It should have been more bothersome, like some irritating little insect that thought itself to be greater, but the pathetic power behind the blow ... the WEAKNESS the scum had shown ... even a fucking gnat could do more damage to her. If they thought that such miniscule efforts ... such trifling attempts ... could bring her down, then she would re-educate them!

She spat the knife out with considerable force, letting it clatter loudly against the concrete before it was crushed beneath her boot. sHe WOuld brInG thE DODICI COSCA TO! THEIR! FUCKING! KNEES! And that bitch ... she would be the first. The first to burn. The first to grovel for mercy that would never come. The first to drown in a puddle of their own bullshit!

"One out of twenty! PATHETIC! I've seen quadruple amputee kids at retard school who could put up more of a fight!"

The carbine rose again, spitting fire into Vitoria's other leg.

[Assistant]
Beryl Harken- B- Its Only a Flesh Wound

I'm starting to get an idea you old psycho.

Again she said nothing out loud. The most recent events were major clues as to the exact nature of his semblance but she was still taking no chances.

All in all she was pretty calm as she looked at the gore in front of her. It may have had something to do with her previous fights with gangsters in the city. Whatever the case her actions were not slowed in the slightest.

Space was her ally in this fight. Knives and a fairly reactionary semblance made for a bad matchup with an extending whip-sword. Beryl slid backwards on the ice. If her guess was right the fire charge that was next in her weapon would have little effect on the man himself.

There was something else she could target though.

She repeated her previous move, for the most part. Her fire charge activated and the otter faunus spun in the opposite direction of last time. The flaming blades swept across the icy ground, melting then boiling away the cold layer. The steam from it was joined by more as she added a stream of water down the blade.

The end result was that the area was bathed in very warm but still survivable steam. It would not last long in a place like this but until then sight in the area was restricted to a few feet. Beryl was still perfectly capable of locating Demetrius. Both through his displacement of the steam and the water in his body.

let's see if he can say the same. She thought as she silently crouched down. Still able to dodge but removing the majority of herself from her last known location.


[System]
Age: 21

Gender: Male

Height: 6' 3"

Eye Colours: Green and blue

Gift: Can become "unnoticeable". If he wants, he can make it so that people do not "see" him, even though he is still completely visible. For example, if he slaps someone, they will notice him.

Bio: Thomas was born to a relatively normal family in a relatively normal neighborhood. He grew up leading an uneventful life, until his eighteenth birthday, however. When he woke up, he looked in the mirror, and saw that one of his eyes had changed colour to blue. He thought it was just the light, or because he was tired. In school that day, though, he got angry at someone, and went to the toilets to calm down. Because of all of the attention he was getting, he didn't want to be noticed, and then people stopped noticing him, unless he interacted with them. At first, he thought this was a joke, but it kept happening, whenever he wanted it to. He has now been on the run for a few months because people have been following him.

[User]
Cole started the ignition but stopped and stared at Miller after hearing him say, "Onward my faithful steed..". There was a moment of awkward silence before Cole shook his head,"I can tell you're gunna be a pain in my ass already". Without another word he put the car in drive and began speeding off onto the highway. With the dial back in its proper place Cole turned on the car stereo and pressed play, His favorite song came on and Cole began to hum along to lyrics. "Kind of like the old days..", he thought as he glanced in the rear view mirror at Naddy. He chuckled a bit because the old days were actually just a few years ago.

After a bit of driving on the highway Cole exited off and drove into the parking lot of a motel. "I'll go get us a room. You can go talk to your girlfriend now", Cole said to Miller with a sinister grin. He got out of the car and headed into the guest sign in. The guy at the counter was shady looking, not the dirty homeless drug addict kind of shady but the kind of shady you'd see in a guy who was about to take someone hostage. Cole walked up to the desk and shook the man's hand, the two were well acquainted. "Well if it ain't Cole Harland. Didn't think I'd see you again, not after what happened at Haven", the man was gifted which was told by the mismatched eye colors. "Yeah...I was lucky to get out, you still got the room for me Brennan?"

"Of course, the 'Presidential Suite', for an old friend", Brennan leaned to the side of Cole and looked out the window to see Miller and Nadia. "What you starting up another-"

"Making new friends. Now, the keys?", Cole held out his hand and shortly after a silver key fell into his palm. "Sure thing boss, sure thing..", Brennan sat back in his chair after handing Cole the keys and began to read a..rather revealing magazine. Cole grinned slightly and headed out, "Same old Brennan".

[Assistant]
Naddy watched Coles little display of his power "Oh Mr. dark' She said as soon they both walked back into their car and started it up. She zipped up her coat and pulled her helmet over her head before stuffing her hair up inside of it. She soon had turned the key and hit to the starter as the bike fired up coming to life. She looked back to see the pair already pulling away "Give a girl some time to pull out at least" she muttered to her self before she popped it in gear and pulled the throttle. She swung the back end out and burned out in her spot turning the bike before she was soon off. It didn't take long before she was fallowing the pair. Riding behind them she decided to have some fun while riding. Soon enough she pulled up along side of them and hit the clutch while down shifting two gears, once she let out and hit the gas her front in lifted off the ground. Riding along side them with her front wheel up she pulled a head before hitting her back brake softy to lower the front wheel slowly and pulling up behind them. She stayed behind them, riding back and forth in her lane and pulling up in front of them for a few miles before pulling back. She popped the front up a few times more as well, mostly out of boredom.

 After a bit they were pulling into a motel as she soon pulled along side them. Sitting up she streached before taking off her helmet and setting it down on her fuselage and leaning against it "My my, cheap motel. You two sure do know how to make a girl feel special". She leaned back again looking around as Cole got out of the car leaving them. She kicked a leg over her bike as she used it as a seat "guess it's just me and you then." she said looking to Miller sitting in the passenger seat of the car.

[User]
Miller Anderson

"I can tell you're gunna be a pain in my ass already" utters Cole, "You'll hurt my feelings man." he replies with a fake sob.

Driving through the thick and unmanaged road, Cole opened up some tunes, back from his old war days Miller presumed. All of a sudden, Naddy begins to start having fun by herself on the road, doing some nasty tricks that could probably kill if it wasn't her driving. "Man I am stuck with Mr. Grumpy over here listening to his old war tunes. Miller grumbles out loud, putting his hand on his chin, and his elbow outside the window. He had watched Naddy the whole time to pass the time, and boy, was she free spirit and wild.

Pulling up the old and rather shady runway, "Uhm, you sure this is where we have to sto- he says, but then was cut off by Cole leaving the car. "It is." he said with a frown.

"I'll go get us a room. You can go talk to your girlfriend now" says Cole, with Miller replying "Oh wow, so you can tease if you try!" he says back to him as he walks into the shady building, face full of smiles.

"My my, cheap motel. You two sure do know how to make a girl feel special" Naddy utters, "Well it's not my idea of a first date either." he replies back with a Banter, grinning ear to ear at her. Staying situated in his seat, he tried ruffling through some of his cds but only found sound weird tunes, "What does Cole listen to." he says outloud. Naddy getting out of her vehicle, in the eyes of Miller, this was a very 'sexy' act. "guess it's just me and you then." she says, "I guess so!" he replies with another smirk "I would ask some teasing thing by now, but I wanna know, why all the tats? I mean they look sexy n' all but, can't help wonder." he asks with a raised eyebrow.

[Assistant]
Thomas was thankful that it was a gifted who he had found, and that he didn't mind other gifted. Or, at least, that's what Thomas thought. Thomas put his arms down, and listened to the person, who he now knew to be called Lucky, tell him what his gift was. Making people forget you could be useful, but Thomas liked his own power better.

Lucky asked Thomas his name, "I'm Thomas," he said, "Nice to meet you,"

Then, Lucky asked Thomas what his gift was, "I can make people not notice me," he told Lucky, "But only if they're not already looking at me."

[User]
Kithra Moore

 "No problem Kirtha, although I haven't thought about my plans this far. Im sorry, but what do you think we should do? I don't mind you staying here if you want, I can fit up to three other people including me, so there is plenty of space in here but what would you like to do? I don't want to sound controlling or anything like that but I want to see whats comfortable with you and what you want to do"

His question was rather straight forward and caught Kithra off guard, but then her guard was easy to topple. As he spoke she felt her mind go foggy again which was slightly annoying, though she was glad for it as it kept her from worrying too much. She cocked her head to the side as he gave her a stern look, she wasn't sure why he was looking her like that. Did she look like she wasn't going to take him seriously? Maybe she did, she was often told she looked like she didn't believe anyone. Well it served her well this far, even though she didn't mean to look that way.

She looked down at her feet and bit her lip before looking up with her head still cocked to the side, with her damp hair hanging. "Call me Kitty." She said softly as she smiled. She wasn't sure what they should do let alone what she should do. Though she was sure that she wanted him to call her Kitty, as her name sounded funny coming from him. Maybe it was his mind gift or maybe she was just feeling comfortable, both of which were dangerous and she knew it. But she just wanted to be safe and who ever could protect her she would most likely stay with, since she had no survival skills. She knew that if she stayed she would be well cared for and for the moment safe.

She shook her head and refocused on Damien and his silver and silvery blue eyes. "I would like to stay, but only if its okay with you." She paused biting her lip before continuing, "As to what we should do next I'm unsure, maybe wait here or depending on how long you have been staying here we should move." She said as she moved to sit in the passenger seat. She sat so her back was up against the door so she was looking at Damien, she was glad that he found her as she might of been caught or killed or died of the elements. So she felt like she owed him though she was unsure what to do for him. I could make a cake.... Wow that sounds stupid! Right make him a cake Kitty, you would look like a tool! She thought to herself as she felt her cheeks go pink at the thought. Maybe I could dance? She thought again and suddenly realized that he didn't ask her what her gift was. Most Gifted would want to know the others gift right off the bat, but he hadn't asked her. She suddenly had a new respect for him.

---

Lucky Newman

Lucky smirked and nodded before relaxing, after realizing that Thomas didn't mean him any harm. So far this was good he didn't have to be on the defensive, which was becoming tiring. One could only hold out for so long before the fight became too much, maybe if he had others with him it wouldn't be so bad. But he once trusted someone and that whole relationship ended horribly, he vowed never to trust someone fully. Sure he would trust them enough so that he felt a bit safe, but he would always keep an eye out to see if they were going to betray him. Damn Regulars, fucking up everything up! He thought before refocusing on Thomas.

"Okay, that gift isn't to bad if you wanted to steal something or what ever.... Where are you originally from?" He asked in a more relaxed tone to let the other guy know that he wasn't a threat. "You hungry? Come on lets get out of the open and head over to the rail cars." He said as he waved Thomas to follow him. He existed the old station house and looked around to make sure that the way was clear and that no one was around to watch them. He quickly walked across the platform onto and across the tracks to reach the old rail cars.

Once he reached the rail car he was using he threw open the door and jumped in and waited for Thomas to jump in, all the while he kept his eyes open for danger. He seriously felt like a meerkat, one standing guard while others did their thing. Maybe that's what us Gifted should be.... If only we could all trust each other. He thought as he continued to look out.

---

Greg Manie

The sound of his chains and the sound of marching feet was all that Greg could hear as the Regulars marched him to death. He was going to die, all because he was resistant to the efforts of the military that wanted to use him against his own people. He rather be put to death then become a weapon for the enemy, and he was. He smiled darkly at the thought that they couldn't break him, couldn't bend him to their will. I bested you and because you are afraid of me, you will destroy be. He thought as they continued to march, he could see the aura's of the men around him and he could tell that they were relieved that he was going to die but they were also afraid that he would do something. But alas, he could do nothing but march to his death. Forgive these men, as they are weak and do not know that they are fools. He silently prayed as they marched.
One, Two, their steps went.
One, Two.
One, two.
One, two.
One, two.
The lights went out...

Greg didn't even have to think as he let his body move, he hit the guard infront of him then ducked as the two guards took out their electric sticks and went to hit him. But instead they ended getting each other, the two guards convulsed then fell to the floor. Without thinking he kicked out behind himself and got the other guard in the groin. He grabbed the electric stick from the down guards and turned quickly striking the rear guard in the face. The guard fell, his head bleeding badly. Greg turned again to face the front guard that had composed himself.

Greg beared his teeth in a crazed smile, he went to strike the guard but he was stopped. Without thinking he head butted the guard then he struck out again this time the electric stick embedded itself in the guards shoulder. Greg watched as the guard convulsed and fell, he wasn't going to live that much Greg knew. He quickly searched the guards for a key before he unlocked his chains.

He was free and he didn't care who he had to kill in order to get out of the complex. The Regulars will wish they never fucked with me!

[Assistant]
Thomas followed Lucky, jumping into the train cart when he was told. He was cautious about telling Lucky where he was from, but he might as well say it, it wouldn't harm him, "I moved over here from North Carolina a few years ago," he told him, "But I put on an accent. It's easier to fit in if you sound like everyone else."
Thomas sighed, remembering happy memories of North Carolina, "My grandparents are from Europe - Scandinavia and Ireland - that's why I've got this hair and skin," Thomas gestured to his hair. "So, where're you from?" he asked.


[System]
Age:
 37

Race:
 Half-elf, Half-human

Gender:
 Female

Class:
 Shadowdancer

Traits:
 . Shadow Stealth- Grey can become invisible to the eyes of any accustomed to the light, any who do not live in the shadows. She hides in plain sight, and remains perfectly hidden until the moment she attacks.

 Shadow Sight- Grey can see the slightest changes in the shadows, be they cast on the wall or from the folds of a face. She has adapted to have incredible reflexes to these micro-aggressions, reacting with fantastic speed. In addition, she can see through the dark, just as well as others can see in the light. In bright lights, though, her senses can be overloaded, and her reactions are slower.

 Shadow Illusions- Grey can sing from the shadows illusions, like folded paper become beasts. The longer she maintains them, the more real they become. In the beginning, they are mere wisps which can be blown away by a breath of wind, but gradually, they will take on more physical effects, eventually becoming actual beasts of shadow. She may also summon weapons, and shields- she is partial to dual-wielding daggers. They can be dispelled at any time, but only by Grey's hand. They only obey her will. If she cannot sing, she cannot summon or properly command and maintain the shadows.

 Shadow Dance- Grey can travel between shadows that she can see. This can be used as a long distance teleportation method, or, she may simply flicker between the shadows as though dancing, to distract or confuse opponents. While teleporting, she is ethereal, and cannot be touched- but she cannot touch others, either. She cannot bring anyone with her through the shadows, but her Shadow Beasts may follow her if she so commands.

Picture Reference:

Physical Description:
 From her elven father, Grey inherited her dark eyes. Her hair twists in tiny ringlets, surrounding her face as though a halo of brown and gold. She has the knife ears which betray her taboo half breed existence, though she hides them beneath her mass of luscious hair. Her human mother granted her dark skin, and a propensity towards freckles. Her height is also lesser than most elves, tending towards the human female average.
 In casual situations, Grey wears a long, grey robe, which covers her entire body. The fabric is silk, and devoid of any designs or runes. Its sole decoration is a hood, which casts a shadow over her face, allowing her an automatic invisibility of sorts, so that she may blend in, or slip away from any crowd. On quests, and especially during battle, Grey wears a black cloak, over a grey dress. This grey dress, composed of some silk-like material, is enchanted such that it seems to blend into the shadows. The black cloak bears the symbol of her bardic college on its back, a matter of pride, rather than protection.
 Her one deviation from these plain dressings is her propensity towards flowers. Occasionally, she can be seen with white flowers in her hair. They are the buds of spring blossoms from the Broken Isles, and no one questions how she obtains such things. The petals dot her hair like the freckles dot her skin; careless, and natural, a mark of nature upon her visage.

Personality:
 Grey keeps to herself. An outsider to the worlds of both of her parents, without a real family as a child, she has come to see the Guild as more than a home than most. They are the first to accept her for herself, despite her strange identity as a half breed. She is quiet, and solemn, seldom smiling. Her one joy in life is her music- when no one is around, she will practice the oud, and sing. She does not like loud things, or bright things- they overwhelm her senses, due to an unfortunate combination of synesthesia, and agoraphobia. In such instances, she will retreat to a dark corner, and meditate in the shadows. She does not trust easily. She can watch a man die, and not blink an eye, but she cannot stand to see nature harmed. Men have always despised her, while nature has always welcomed her.

Extra Details:
 Grey plays the Oud, and quite well. She graduated from the Elven Bardic College of Garelm at the age of twenty with high marks, but had her credentials revoked when her status as a half breed was revealed by a rival.
 Grey has never met her mother. She owns one tiny painting of her, made by her artist father before the woman tragically died.
 Grey has never been accepted into either the human or elven communities- both regard her as a lesser being, even those who consider all races equal, as interbreeding is highly frowned upon.
 Grey owns few things- her only three real belongings are the painting, her oud, and her graduation cloak.
 Grey sleeps during the day, and wakes at night; she switches her sleeping pattern when quests demand she must.

[User]
The Shadow Kaito lowered his swords, and walked forward to the edge of the circle. Staring after its opponent, it dropped its swords, and disappeared, letting out a sigh like hissing steam. Grey had been observing through the shadows, watching through the eyes of her creatures. At the sudden change, Grey sat up, and her pillow and knives disappeared. Frowning, she watched as Kaito stalked out of the ring. After a moment of confusion, she pushed herself to her knees. With difficulty, she tried to stand up. An extended yawn escaped from her lips, her eyes fluttered, and she collapsed to the ground.

The energy it had taken to maintain the Shadow Kaito- to even create it and the other creatures in the first place- was more than the girl could actually manage. That, coupled with her intense exhaustion, and the blood loss incurred from her rope-like burns on her hands, caused her loss of consciousness. She crumpled, hitting the floor with a sickening crunch. Her hood fell over to cover her face.

The other creature, the dilapidated and monstrous figure, gradually shrank to the size of a kitten, hanging on to its form just long enough to crawl over to Grey, and curl up beside her. It dissipated into the air, like its fellow.

[Assistant]
---

Silva let out a sarcastic laugh. "Yeah, I'll be so scared if you were vaguely able to throw a punch and know which end is the sharp bit on a sword." She good naturally scoffed and sighed, staring up at the heavens like always. "Besides I don't think Kaito's style would fit you, he's all about fancy fast movements and spectacle. I don't think that describes a bit ol' brute like yourself, eh?" She playfully gave him a light kick from where the laid. "Hope you don't mind being called a brute, Gareth."

After that she fell silent for a while longer, it seemed that Gray had finally passed out. Silvia wasn't too surprised that Kaito won, and in a small way was somewhat glad that the duel had finally ended. Still seeing as their Master hadn't declared the next match up yet she was more than content to stay put. As if she didn't see the match end, she turned to the other man. "Say, Gareth? What sort of jobs are you looking forward to doing? You out to help the little people, or do you want to claim glory for yourself?" She posed the question to the berserker.

[User]
Shandria pulled herself up and looked around, scouting the area as if she was just going to up and spot the Guild Master's daughter while she herself could not. The eyes of a dragon were good... but the eyes of Artura were good too. She pulled herself up and stretched with a yawn. The fight watching was fun but, now that the first fight was over the Dragonkin wasn't as interested. The second fight hadn't started, and so she had time... though she was sure the next two would start fighting the moment she was out of eyesight. She tapped her fingers on her thighs, wondering where to look first. She'd have to check the guild... if the girl wasn't off somewhere else entirely.

She walked off, waving her hand with only a short "Yeah yeah I'll sniff her out." With that, she was off. She started checking the oddest of places. Every broom closet, every crawlspace. You never know... She worked from the most unlikely places to the most likely, until finally she was opening the doors and peeking into bedrooms to see if she was in one of the guest beds perhaps. In a matter of about ten minutes she had every single room checked except for the girl's own bedroom. Or was it the Guild Master's room? She didn't know, but it was time to find out! She turned the knob and peeked in, eyes adjusting to the dark as necessary and peeking around.

If the girl wasn't in here... then she wasn't in the guild at all. And if the girl was in the room, Shandria would sneak in ever so quietly with the stealth of a dragon... just, not a dragon... and come up to the bed only to pounce onto it with a bounce and a quick "It's time to rise and shine as the humans say!" (Unless she had been found somewhere prior to checking the bedroom. Just assuming a usual -still asleep- deal.)

[Assistant]
@Bell

---

Gareth could only smile bitterly at being called a brute, but he couldn't say the name was undeserved. He watched the fight, sympathizing with Kaito as he stormed out of the arena to retrieve his blades. Although in his eyes, Kaito had lost the match since he had left the marked arena, he wasn't entirely convinced of whom the victor in a real fight would be, thus his features formed a slight, dissatisfied pout.

Gareth stood up with a sigh, patting off his trousers, "I take whatever I can get." He answered Silvia with a wink over his shoulder. "Now, let's see if we can't help tuck the shadow girl into bed, she's fought hard and I believe it to be well past her bedtime. Who knows, we might even free up the space for a bout of our own." Gareth proposed as he walked towards the flagged arena. While moving towards the circle, he waved at Artura with an attentive greeting, "Good morning, Guild Master. Could Silvia and I possibly make a bid for the next fight?" His amiable smile turned into a wolfish grin at the thought of imminent fighting, Gareth's canines bared.

[User]
@Bell

---

Silvia grinned with clear enthusiasm and in one movement quickly jumped onto her feet, literally so. She accompanied Gareth as they approached their Guild Master, she was feeling pumped about the prospect of a good fight. From her conversation with the man she was convinced it'll be a great duel, and while perhaps she felt a tad mismatched with the berserker, she definitely wasn't going to let these tiny, nagging feelings get in her way. When they were in talking distance with Artura she gave her own friendly wave. Then after her soon-to-be sparring partner suggested they take the next fight, she imminently nodded to show both her agreement and approval. "Yeah pretty much, I'm damn excited to take on Gareth in the ring." Her smirk alone was enough to convey the genuine feelings of her words.

[Assistant]
Artura bounced her leg crossed over the other, fingers tapping together as she watched the fight. Not the best outcome, she would have preferred if both sides were taking it more seriously. Kaito seemed more insulted than honored by the outcome. Maybe she would step in personally to give him a better fight than someone who was already ready to fall asleep. Either way, as the two approached she looked down at them with a shrug. "I don't see why not. The most likely to win are the enthusiastic, even if not entirely assured. Nothing more enthusiastic than approaching and asking to be next."

She stood up and called out to all who were watching. Not even the onlookers knew what to make of the outcome of the first round. "Next will be Gareth versus Silvia." Looking back to the two she added "Take it seriously, that last fight was just a little disappointing. It's hard to bond with someone when you insult them in combat.

With Shandria off to find her daughter, Artura sat back down, one leg over the other and tapped her fingers on the armrest. A few members of the guild who were on healing duty came forward to lift Grey up and remove her from the ring. The moment she passed the flags any wounds would be healed, and more importantly she would have just as much energy as she had when she entered, maybe giving her just enough energy to wake up and go find a real bed somewhere.

[User]
Grey sat up, after exiting the ring, and looked up at Artura. Slightly more refreshed, though still quite tired, she yawned. Pulling the hood off of her head, Grey frowned, staring at the Guild leader. She spoke, her voice barely carrying loudly enough to be heard across the field.

"I could contribute nothing more, without endangering myself. He abandoned the fight. That is a great insult, to my honor."

Maintaining eye contact for a moment, Grey decided not to speak any more. Casting her gaze downwards, she began to walk. She raised a hand to her neck, massaging the knots out of it. Annoyed and frankly angered, Grey was legitimately confused, and the frustration was evident through her calm. Well aware of her limits, and of the dangers of overextending herself, she accepted the win by default, but did not revel in it. Almost gliding along the ground, her legs completely covered by her robe, she retreated from the field.

Once inside, Grey walked to her own quarters, where her cot was waiting. Too mad to sleep, she sat on her cot, crossing her legs, and staring at the blank wall. Her door was little more than a curtain, and it waved slightly in the air currents drifting through the room. She grabbed her Oud, and held it in her lap, deciding to practice for a little while. As far as she knew, everyone had gone to watch the fight; this would be a perfect time to rehearse a few songs. She closed her eyes, and quietly played, almost meditative in her practice.


[System]
Note: As long as the following information is contained in your character sheet, I do not care how you format it or in what order you list them.

Note: You may add extra information, such as gender or a quote that your character would say.

Note: Update your character sheet regularly to reflect changes.

[User]
"Magic is Real!!!"
"This world that we live in is not as it seems.
It is filled with things beyond your wildest dreams.
But a secret is only as good as it's keeper.
So keep tight lips... or fear the reaper."

[Assistant]
Monica White

---

Work at a hospital is a very busy thing, and today was no different. Nurses and doctors ran to and fro, bringing medicine to infected patients, and life saving surgeries to those who were injured. While Monica couldn't perform major surgeries, she did have minor experience with a scalpel, and has seen many surgeries preformed by her superiors.

What Monica could do, however, was deliver and administer medicine. Everything from antibiotics and blood thinners, to antivenom and hanging up IV's full of blood and chemical cocktails. And that's what she was doing today. Pushing carts full of supplies around the various floors and helping out patients who needed water, or had questions. Or sometimes, with the older patients, just a little bit of talking.

Monica was doing what she did best, walking to her own quick beat, when she ran into Dr.Edwards, and asked him if he needed anything. Things had somewhat calmed down over the past few hours, but she knew she should never say the "Q" word out loud. It's bad juju in hospitals, and she found that out the hard way.

"Ah, Dr. Edwards! I just finished up with the patient in room 3. You need anything else while I'm around?" "Actually, yes. You remember John, the patient in room 6 who arrived just a couple hours ago? His saline bag needs replaced. I'd appreciate it if you could get him a new one." "Yes doctor."

Monica gave him a quick nod, and began walking towards the storage area to grab a bag of saline. John was a patient that had been suffering dehydration after getting lost in the woods. The doctors said he just needed some rest and water, and he'd be good to go. Monica entered the storage room, and grabbed a bag of the salt infused water.

[User]
John was a frail old man who wore very simple clothing and a short, but full, white beard. When Monica entered his room, his eyes were closed and he was terribly still. At first glance, one would think he was dead. But looking more carefully, she could see the subtle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. Quietly, Monica went about her business, changing his bag.

As she finished, as her hands lowered from the new IV, John's eyes opened. "Thank you child." Something was off about the way he said even those few words. His voice didn't sound tired at all. In fact, if she wasn't looking at the old man, he could have easily passed for thirty years younger. "Can I ask you a question? ... What do you like most about your job?"

[Assistant]
Monica White

---

That was odd. John didn't quite sound right. Maybe it was just the dehydration talking at that point. She'd had patients talk funny before, so she paid him little mind. But she did catch his question.

"What do I like most about my job huh?" Monica put her hand to her chin and thought deeply. "Hm... Well, if I had to say, it's probably because I like helping people. That and I've always liked medicine. It's a strange thing, medicine, just a simple chemical can completely reverse disease and death. I suppose that really, deep down, I like to see people get better."

And that was true. Monica took in sheer delight at the premise of fixing others. Maybe she should get into surgery? No, no, her hands weren't nearly steady enough. Medicine would do for now. But then she thought about her future. Was this what she really wanted? She felt like she could do more. She loves what she does, but she always felt like there was... more she could do. But what?

[User]
The old man nodded along as Monica answered his question. He could tell she was being honest, but this he knew already. He thought back to when he first saw her, not far from the hospital, a couple days prior. The two had simply passed each other on the street, and in that brief passing, he felt her hidden talents.

That was when he made his little plan. He placed a magic tracer on the girl to see where she worked and when she would work next. Then all he needed was a spell to make himself appear older and dehydrated. This second part was easier to accomplish than the first, because as a water wizard, all he had to do was will the water to leave his body.

Now, laying in bed before this young woman, the time had come to reveal himself. "That is wonderful to hear." He said, as he sat up in his bed. "What if I told you there were more ways than you know to help others, to heal them?" Such a cryptic question was hard to answer right away. Plus the old man probably shouldn't be sitting up in bed, one would think.

While Monica was deciding how to proceed, 'John' looked over to his IV bag. As he did, the bag started draining, much quicker than it should be. It was as if his arm was sucking up the water, and as this was happening, the man's face began to loose its wrinkles. He was becoming younger, right before her eyes. As the bag was sucked of its last drop, he let out an exaggerated sigh, like someone who had just taken a large gulp of water.

He then removed the IV quicker than she could stop him and smiled. "If you want to know more. All you have to do is find me." With those final words, something inexplicable happened. In a puff of smoke, 'John' disappeared. Actually, it was more like mist or steam, but in any case, he was gone now. His clothes were left behind, and Monica was left aghast.

[Assistant]
Eden Tal

---

Eden stood in the courtyard of her small little shrine. She had just arrived back today and felt like a fish back in water; sure, studying physics was fun and all but this was where she really belonged. In the place she grew up in, accompanied only by herself and her gods. A smile graced her face, lighting up her features as she spotted the old well she had thrown so many coins into.

 Though they were already short on cash her grandmother never complained, unlike her parents who dug into her for everything she did. Luckily, they wouldn't be able to reach her here. They only had to hire someone to put a couple thousand in her account a week and could forget all about her. If she was being honest, Eden thought the amount was insanely high, but it would make her parents poorer and help her renovate the Shrine so it felt like a win-win for her.

She took in the familiar view as the nostalgia hit her, the little red shrine was the exact same as it always had been. Well, more or less. It was a lot dirtier and parts of it looked like they were about to fall down.... Well, she can fix it later. Eden stubbornly ignored the damage, not wanting to face the reality that this place was not the same as it always had been. She made a mental note to spend the first payment on fixing it up and getting WiFi installed as began walking, her suitcase crunching over fallen leaves behind her. She opened the door with a nostalgic smile, speaking quietly as she took in the familiar sight, "I'm back, grandma."

[User]
If the shrine were larger and not made of wood, Eden surely would have heard an echo. As it was however, she was greeted by nothing more than silence. And so, after an appropriate moment of silence, she continued her way into the shrine to get her things settled.

It was a dull and lonely first night, as Eden had nothing else to do than wipe dust off old furniture and sweep up. She was getting ready for bed when the distant sound of thunder began to rumble the small shack. Would the shrine hold up if it rained hard? She had to wonder.

But strangely enough, the rain never came. Even as the sound of thunder and flashes of lightning become more frequent and intense, not a single drop fell from the sky. Then, with one final crash and blinding flash, it all stopped. Naturally, Eden went out to the front door of the shrine to look, to make sure everything outside was okay. Luckily, all seemed well. Besides a few small tree limbs that had fallen in the wind, there wasn't much damage to be seen, not in the dark of night at least. Most importantly, there were no wildfires due to lightning strikes and no rain.

As Eden walked back into the shrine, a soft glow caught her eye, a glow that wasn't there before she stepped outside. It was her grandmother. She stood in the corner of the main sitting area. A pale-gold light emanated from her body, as she wore the same robes that Eden had last remembered her in. She wasn't see through like some sort of ghost; she was solid, unmistakably there.

"Welcome back, little one." 'Little one', that was something Eden hadn't heard in a while. It was what her grandmother had always called her, even after she'd outgrown the small woman.

[Assistant]
Eden Tal

---

As Eden looked around outside she looked a bit confused, she had rarely ever seen thunder without storms here and it would most always end in something nearby burning. She didn't put much thought into it though, it was best not to question gods gifts. She looked up at the sky for a few moments more, seeing nothing out of the ordinary she turned and hurried back inside.

She was about to return to cleaning up the shrine, when she noticed the strange glow out of the corner of her eyes. She was never one to be scared of unnatural things, she was a shrine maiden for christ sake. Her lack of fear for the supernatural and the calmness in her that could never seem to be disturbed brought her towards the light, hoping to figure out what was going on.

The figure became clear as soon as those words exited her mouth, the towel she had been holding fell to the floor as she stared in disbelief at the woman she recognized to be her grandmother. Trembling fingers reached towards the old woman, Eden couldn't believe what she was seeing.

"Ma? Is... Is that you?" Her breath hitched in her throat as she began speaking, then, the first tear rolled down her cheek, all the others came flooding out like a tsunami. She knew she didn't look pretty right now, but she couldn't care for her appearance in such a moment. She rubbed her nose with her sleeve to try to stop the snot that was beginning to leak and forced herself to smile at her, this might be the last chance to see her, and Eden most certainly didn't want to leave her the image of a sniveling mess with snot running down her face.

[User]
The little old lady smiled, in that way Eden remembered. "Yes, it is me. I'm so happy to see you. Please, have a seat." She pointed at a small pillow on the floor, one of four surrounding a short wooden table. She then had a seat on the pillow opposite of the one she motioned toward.

As if reading Eden's thoughts, she smiled and laughed a little. "I don't need to sit, but you should. We have a lot to talk about. And it would be weird if you were then the only one sitting wouldn't it?"

Over the next hour or so, Eden's grandmother explained this precarious situation. She explained, that after her death, she remained at the shrine, protecting it with what magic she had left. Sure, she couldn't keep it clean or tend to the general maintenance of it, but she could still fend off evil spirits and other malicious forces.

This, of course, begged a different line of questioning. Magic... was real!?!? Sure, when Eden was little, she believed all the stories that her grandmother told her, stories of fairies living in the woods, angels in the skies, and a great deal more. But as Eden grew older, she came to realize this stories for what they were, metaphors and wise tales, meant to teach her valuable life lessons. But seeing her grandmother here now, in all her shining glory, Eden couldn't help but rethink her entire understanding of life. Of course, there was always the possibility that this was only a dream.

"I'm sorry if this comes as an unwelcome shock. You see, I wanted you to have a choice. I wanted you to experience the world outside this place. If you would have decided not to return, I would have understood. But now that you are here, I want to ask you..." Her eyes closed, as if considering whether or not she should speak her next words. Then they opened, and she continued. "Do you truly wish to be a shrine maiden? It is more than keeping a tidy place for people to come worship. It's much more than that, much more magical, but if can also be... much more dangerous."


[System]
Quote: "Real justice leaves nothing behind."

Alias: Wraith

Age: 19

Gender: Female

Family: Older brother, Steven Banks Father, Carl Banks. Mother, Georgia Banks, Deceased

Occupation: Student

Appearance: Kara is shorter than average for her age, and has the lean, muscular build of a gymnast. Her facial features are slightly unremarkable, but she could be described as mildly attractive, with pale grey eyes and a light dusting of freckles across her nose. She has medium-length brownish-blonde hair, which she ties back into a ponytail whenever possible.

During her daily life, Kara almost always dresses casually in jeans, battered old sneakers and tank tops or t-shirts. She owns an embarrassing amount of hero themed t-shirts, most of them given to her by her brother every time her birthday or Christmas rolled around, or just whenever he wanted an excuse to annoy her. Secretly, she is quite fond of them, even the ones with the cheesy slogans, which could explain why she wears them so much.

When operating as 'Wraith', Kara wears a silver eye mask that covers the top half of her face, along with a dark grey jacket and black trousers loose enough for her to be able to move quickly. She always wears a pair of thick black gloves wrapped in barbed wire, designed to be completely waterproof due to the nature of her fighting style.

Method of Operation: Her fighting style is based on provoking her enemies into aggression, forcing them to lower their guard and leave openings for her to attack. Once her opponent is vulnerable, she can use her ability to directly attack their vital organs and end the fight before it properly begins.

If forced into a fight, she uses her ability to alter her density to be lighter than air, allowing her to take flight and making her a fast-moving, unpredictable target. When striking her opponent, she heightens the density of her fists as they hit her opponent, giving every impact much more force behind it.

Superpower: Kara can control the density of her body, allowing her to walk through walls, become lighter than air, or give her punches the force of sledgehammer blows. In combat, she uses her power to phase into opponents bodies and destroy their vital organs, or hit them with strikes that have a huge amount of power.

Her power has drawbacks, though. While increasing her density can allow her to become stronger and withstand more blows, her body can only take the strain for a limited time before she risks permanent bone or muscle damage. This also applies to reducing her density, as the strain put on her organs could lead to health problems or falling unconscious if used for long periods of time. This means she must use her power in short bursts to avoid being damaged.

Skills: Kara is a skilled actor, and does not hesitate to lie when the situation calls for it, and is able to be a very convincing diplomat. She is also a skilled gymnast, which lends her some strength and agility that she would otherwise lack and has gotten her out of a few sticky situations.

Equipment: Barbed gloves, designed to do maximum damage to internal organs. Small vial of poison that can be used on more durable enemies. Backpack to carry equipment and hide obvious evidence after fights.

Personality: To the outside world, Kara has a friendly, outgoing personality. She surrounds herself with people who are kind and caring, making friendships easily with a hug and a beaming smile. She is, for all intents and purposes, a model student, the type of person that you would expect to make it out in the world and live a happy, normal life. She seeks out others like her, who are held up on a pedestal to others and surrounds herself with them. However, if they are seen as doing wrong, or harming someone else, then they tend to disappear.

In reality, behind the façade of warmth and friendliness that she puts on, Kara has an obsession with justice, whatever the cost. No matter how small a grievance, how petty the crime, if she witnesses someone doing wrong, then she marks them in her mind and obsessively tracks them down to deal out her version of 'justice'. Still, she seems to almost enjoy it, always thinking that she is in the right, no matter what the circumstances.

She dislikes heroes, and the way that they attempt to save the day by bringing villains to justice. As far as she is concerned, if the villain responsible lives, then justice has not been done.

Biography: As a child, Kara was always liked by those around her. She grew up in a happy family of normal people, completely unaware of her powers, and was closer to her mother than anyone else in the world. They would sing and dance in the park, go to the theatre, and she would be supportive of everything Kara did. The first time she decided to try out at the local theatre, her mother was the last person to count her out and the first person to give her a shoulder to cry on when she was rejected.

For sixteen years, she lived an ideal life. Her dad would come home, beaming after a good days work or excitedly waving a bonus and declaring that they'd be going on a holiday or buying a new car. Her brother, two years older, would smile and laugh and they'd sit and chat together, less like siblings and more like old friends. Sadly for Kara, it all came tumbling down. Her mother was murdered, with her the only witness. She was only able to survive because her powers activated, allowing the bullet fired at her to simply bounce off. Not understanding what was going on, she ran away.

After the murder, she was racked with guilt over what happened, over not being able to help. Her father and brother tried to help her, but it just didn't seem to work. She recalled the way she had withstood the bullet, and realised that she had some kind of power. She began to train, and this was where she developed her obsession, vowing never to rest until every single person like this was brought to justice. At eighteen, two years of training later, this obsession drove her to buying a mask, and taking to the streets of the city as Wraith.

Theme Song: Amnesia- Miracle of Sound

Relationships: Not discussed

Extra: Who's not normal? We're not normal.

[User]
Turn Back

 Jason Graves stared at his phone in surprise. Firstly, Ditch had contacted him. Secondly... Ditch knew who he was. He or she seemed to know everything about Jason. Third... Ditch wanted a meeting. Something was brewing, something even bigger than he'd suspected. Turn Back hadn't gone up against many superpowered villains, he mostly hunted muggers and thieves... But maybe this was his chance to make the world safer on a bigger scale...

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

Turn Back pulled his bandanna up over his mouth, the black fabric blending in with the rest of his dark clothes. The vigilante was a few minutes late, but he refused to enter the abandoned building before making sure there wasn't an ambush waiting. He saw a few familiar faces enter the building, more vigilantes with some weight behind them. He followed behind a moment later, making sure his folding staff was clutched tightly in his hand. He threw the door open, confident that he wouldn't be walking into a trap. Unfortunately, it seemed he was late to the party. There was a woman on the stage, nobody he knew. Looking around he noticed close to half a dozen other vigilantes paying very close attention to her.

She was asking for question. Turn Back raised his hand and cleared his throat. "Um yes, sorry to be behind the curve, but I missed a big reveal here. Are you Ditch?"

[Assistant]
Girard sat comfortably in his apartment contemplating one or two targets he could hit. He made a few adjustments among his newly made grenades which he had just finished preparing in anticipation when he heard his phone vibrate from the other side of his couch. He picked the device up curiously, he wasn't expecting a call any time today, having a look at the message he just got which had him place the last grenade in a row while he read about himself and the offer from Ditch. Honestly it could have been a trap despite hearing the message earlier as clear as day from Ditch who seemed vehement about dealing with this Umbra character. Sure he had thought about going after the bastard himself but hearing that the criminal managed to capture one of the better vigilantes in Millennium City even the mighty Tank was hesitant. The Word mighty made him smile slightly at the thought of people talking about him like he was some kind of big shot and maybe he was, big at the very least but he wasn't the only sheriff in town and never forgot it.

He tensed up ever so slightly at the meeting place in Racket Ave. which pique even some suspicion in him. Honestly it was a perfect place to meet in secret because no one smart would go into an abandoned junkie filled area that reeked to high heaven if they had the choice. However, it hardly made it any more appealing for the big man who had an idea about how to go about this meeting or how to enter it at least. It took a few moments to get set up in his gear, he also packed a couple surprises in case it was an unpleasant trap which could clear a room nicely, before heading out into the night. There really was nothing about this meeting that made him want to rush so he would take some time and maybe take out a small robbery on the way if he saw one.

---

Tank made his way to visual distance of the rather large building they were supposedly meeting in which made him like the area even less. It was an old theater his the design was right or a very fucked up warehouse, either way it had only one main entrance which was partially open suggesting people were already inside.

They really just left the door open? I mean its only a bit but seriously? Girard thought with some exasperation.

The big man opted to go around back of the building to see if he could find another way in besides the front door, one that would fit him preferably. Though he could make one if necessary and honestly with the building in the state it was it would take little effort not to mention it would surprise the shit out of whoever was inside. This sort of meeting never really happened among the crime fighters so if it had maybe he wouldn't have been so cautious or paranoid really about. It wasn't like he always deigned to work alone or by himself when working together could produce impressive results more so than by himself. He also knew he was so stealthy it would take a blind, deaf, and no touch sensitivity stricken man to not know he was coming under the most perfect of circumstance so it was a tactic he rarely bothered with beyond staying his distance.

It didn't take particularly long but he figured if the people inside were busy he would be in position while they were still preparing or to interrupt an ambush already going on. It would surprise him if someone had set up for more than one vigilante to take a fall so he was ready to back them up as well if it was the case. He found what seemed like a particularly weak portion of the back wall leading right into the center of the main room then started to back up judging how much force would be needed to go straight through it. Once he was satisfied he started a what was a jog for him slowly picking up some speed before making impact with the wall and found he overestimated what he needed. He wasn't sure exactly what he hit on the way in but it was promptly smashing and whatever ended up in his face smelled like mothballs before he felt something give way below his feet just as he got a flash of light in his face hearing something about questions.

There was a moment of quiet from him as he took in the situation realizing he was waist deep into a damn stage after having run through the dark back room taking down half the curtain with him and now was getting strange looks from everyone else in the room. He recognized some off the bat and had heard of a couple others and there was one who had no mask on who he really didn't know who it was. It didn't take him long to feel like an absolute idiot because it wasn't a trap or ambush and he had just made the biggest damn fool of himself.

"Well that answers my first question." Girard said from behind his helmet which he was very happy to have on at the moment.

The big man proceeded to try and find a way to not completely destroy the stage while getting out of it, it was going to be a long night.

[User]
Kara Banks / Wraith

Kara knew she was late. Midnight, that's what the message had said, and she'd kick herself if she missed an opportunity to deal out sweet, sweet justice to some evildoers. She just couldn't forgive herself if she let someone evil like that go, some kind of murderer or thug, or other pathetic criminal. No way was she letting that happen. To be honest, that was why she was late in the first place.

She sighed, looking at the body on the ground in front of her. She'd had it all planned out, you know. She'd tracked him down after seeing him grab hold of someone's purse on the street, but his location was supposed to be on the way to Racket Avenue anyway. How was she supposed to know he'd run away so quickly? And after he'd done that, well, she had to take her time. Can't have people trying to escape justice and getting away with it. She sighed in frustration.

Still, that type of thing made an awful mess, but she didn't have time to clean her gloves properly, only whatever she could wipe off on the wall. It wouldn't matter, probably. This 'Ditch' character already knew who she was, so it wasn't a stretch to think she'd know how she operated. No-one with any kind of dedication to justice would squeal at the sight of a little blood. If anything, Kara, or Wraith as she was known, felt she should get a pat on the back.

She headed out of the alley, and walked the few blocks remaining to Racket Avenue. She checked the time. 12:08. Just enough that she couldn't pretend to be late deliberately. She'd get away with it with her friends, but she doubted this was the same kind of thing. If it was, then she'd walk straight back out again. Not that she'd mind a decent conversation with Ditch. Which would probably consist of 'who are you' and 'did you have to send me the message in the middle of class?'. Very nearly got the message seen, and she'd spent far too long building relationships to let the people there find out she was a super.

Anyway, she turned to look at the door. It was open, which made her slightly suspicious, but she didn't have time to examine the area properly. I'll just have to hope it's not a trap. Here we go! Fixing her face with an open, friendly smile, she walked through the door and into the room. Looks like I'm not the only one Ditch tracked down.

She also didn't seem to be the only late one, so she strolled in with her head held high and a winning smile, trying to ignore the guy with his face halfway through the stage in hopes of making a half-decent entrance. She felt a little bit shown up, although she'd probably done better at the basic skill of being able to enter the building.

She grinned and walked to the middle of the room, where a few people and one creature.. thing were gathered around some strange girl, who looked like the only one sure of what was happening. Was that Ditch? Best to ask and make sure.

"Sorry I'm late, Ditch - whichever one you are. Justice sleeps for no man, and while I'm no man, it's certainly not gonna rest on my watch." She wasn't the only one wondering who to talk to, it seemed, though she recognized a few of the faces present. Good. She didn't want to work with amateurs that might hinder her pursuit of justice.