[System]
Age: 16

Appearance:

Occupation: Princess

Personality: Living a sheltered life where everything is taken care of for you results in a fairly selfish attitude. Anise is a confident girl who believes that she can get whatever she wants so long as she asks for it. She is impatient. She loves stories and art. She is a proud girl with a know-it-all attitude. The only people allowed to tell her what to do in her mind are her father and her fiance. She can be headstrong from time to time, and will often take action without thinking it through. She is extraordinarily naive. Overall... she certainly is quite the princess.

History: Anise grew up without want or need for anything. Everything she asked for she received. Her whole life was perfect as far as she was concerned. She had a personal maid that did everything the told her to. She never learned what fear was. She never knew true hunger. She lived a carefree life in her Father's castle reading books and painting. Her only outside time was spent in the garden on the castle's grounds where she learned about the flowers there. Father had found the perfect prince for her to marry, Harrison Lyons. Never had she actually met the young man, but that didn't matter to her, after all Father knew best. The wedding was supposed to be soon, but now that is completely up in the air, after all she has been spirited away.

[User]
Had she still considered herself a princess, Anise would have snapped at Peck for his lack of manners, but with her time in the forest that life seemed so far away. She watched Peck head into the brush and go to a tree with fruit. She hadn't noticed there were trees with fruit, everything in this forest seemed so barren. However, she realized that she never actually looked for food either. Not since the inn which had disappeared.

She heard the crack of lightning and saw a flash. Then she heard Peck curse at a blood rat before eventually returning to Anise with fruit.

Anise nodded completely self-assured. "I don't think the Dragon is the reason the darkness happened." She held the Spirit Egg close. "She was betrayed. Something else started this, and now the Forest is out of balance. So out of balance that she had to pull people from," she swallowed, somewhat terrified of the power that it must have taken to do this. "Another world, or worlds. Without her, we have no hope of bringing back the sun."

She paused as she took a bite out of the fruit. Peck was right, they tasted like cabbage and nearly had the same texture as well. This truly was the worst fruit she had ever eaten. "I must meet with all of the Spirits. I must find the Kith as well. I at least owe them for what Tyaelaem did for me. I would not have survived this place without him." She took another bite from the tasteless fruit. Regardless of its lack of flavor, Anise felt that it was delicious. Then again, she nearly had forgotten was food tasted like.

She glanced at the White Lantern which Peck held and swallowed her latest bite of fruit. "May I please have the Lantern of Flight back?" She preferred to ask nicely over using the Spirit Egg to make him do it. While she was now fully aware of what she was capable of through the Dragon's power, she suspected that the cost for using it would manifest into something serious. She doubted that the Dragon was giving this power to her freely, especially with the reluctance it had while trying to subdue the Witch. She hoped that her mercy would have a positive effect with the Witch and the Dragon.

[Assistant]
Artemis looked between the two 'Lords' as they bickered. The small one seemed to be full of wisdom. Thank goodness he'd told her to 'not fall off' of the gryphon. Who knew what she'd have done without his advice. She looked back at the gryphon, who seemed to be losing her mind with excitement at the thought of flying. Artemis was suddenly glad she'd yet to eat anything.

"Nura," she said. The gryphon paused for half a second to look at her before bounding over and nearly knocking Artemis to the floor. A foot was forced back to brace herself, and Artemis raised her hands to try and push off 300 lbs of feathers nuzzling into her. Yeah, she figured, Nura would work out fine.

"I've ridden a horse before," Artemis said while trying to control Nura. The gryphon wouldn't keep still, insistent and curious, sniffing at her neck, her hair, her clothes. "Never bareback." She was kinda miffed that she'd have to ride barefoot though. It meant she'd stolen the boots from the Witch for nothing. "First and only priority I have is not dying. Find some food, water, a safe place to sleep I guess." She needed to get her bearings. Artemis glanced over her shoulder at the two men. A thoughtful eyebrow raised.

"The sun-child with the white Lantern has the blue one, too. Almost got the red one earlier. She's trying to free the dragon." Artemis had no idea if the sun-child Reckley was talking about was the same one she'd met with the blue Lantern. She was just curious what sort of reaction that would get. These men were still strangers, after all. Curiosity and caution mixed together to prompt her search for information.

Nura blindsided her with an extra shove and Artemis tumbled to the ground in a prone heap with a yelp. The gryphon seized the opportunity for more nuzzling.

[User]
Peck stared at her while she spoke -- nothing she said made sense according to the lessons he'd been taught since he was a child . . . the knowledge that had been passed down through the generations of pirates. Suddenly there was this weathered and traveled girl from another world -- with strange powers and stranger knowledge -- who said she knew the truth. He didn't know what to believe, but he believed that if anyone could bring the sun back, it was Anise.

He stepped forward, and he held the Lantern out to her. "I hope you know what you're doing," he told her warily, and he looked up through the trees toward the deep expanse of stars above.

"We tell time by the moonrise," he said after awhile; he'd been thinking about the world Anise must have come from. "The month by the phase of the moon, the year by the moving constellations. Nothing else really changes. The shadows get darker. The Lord of the Shadow is getting stronger, the more people die."

He stared up for awhile, then took a breath. "I know how to summon each of the Lords and Ladies, if you want to talk to them. It's usually forbidden, because making one of them mad could be disaster -- but." He shook his head and ruffled his own hair; he couldn't believe he was doing this. "We've already broken most of the rules already. I was going to take you back to the Roost, but if you're going to be summoning the spirits I'd do it far away from there. Finding the Kith is something else, though. There are several tribes, and they don't necessarily like each other."

A thought occurred to him, and he touched one of the trees. "There's a tribe not far from here, it's on the way to the Roost. They're the tree-jumpers, though -- they kill pirates for sport." He gave Anise a look that questioned whether she really wanted to do what she'd set out to do, when every course of action could end in them both being slaughtered or worse.

---

Oseely and Reckley exchanged a skeptical look while Artemis struggled with the gryphon.

"Two Lanterns ain't anything to be concerned about, right?"

"There are two more at the Rook."

"I can feel the red Lantern --"

"I know, I can feel the white one and it's being abused."

Oseely shot him a glare. "Red's at the Witch's house. The trees are all dead, then. How long 'til they're back at full power?"

"Not long enough."

The Lord of the Breeze folded his arms with a solemn frown, and the Lord of the Flame sucked his teeth with the pensive thought of a slacker slowly realizing he might have to do something productive soon. Oseely huffed a sigh and shook his head, laughing, much to Reckley's displeasure. "Doesn't matter. Shadow'll take care of it. For once let's not get in his way."

Reckley shuddered slightly, but he relinquished a sigh and looked down to Artemis with a twitch of a smile. The sight of the bond between rider and gryphon was heartening, at least.

"You'd be better equipped to survive if you don't try to do it alone."

"Aw, stick with me and you'll do just fine!" Oseely gave her a wink and a grin.

Reckley sighed. "You don't sleep and you don't eat. How're you going to help?"

"I eat!"

"You chew bark." Reckley appraised Artemis, his arms still folded. "The Kith or the Pirates would probably take you in. You're in the rare situation of being unaffiliated."

"You don't want to do that. Just steal their stuff and camp in the open fields. There are sigils you can use to ward off critters that'd chew on you in your sleep."

"That's the most idiotic idea I've ever heard," Reckley hissed with distaste.

Oseely grinned. "I thought of it myself!"

[Assistant]
Anise felt that his returning the Lantern to her was an extension of his trust and hope. She accepted the Lantern with a smile to oppose his wary expression. She felt that there should be something to brighten the day of the dwellers of the Forest even though the Dragon seemed to have no interest in their safety. She felt that was no way to rule and really felt the need to have an actual conversation with the Dragon at some point.

That made sense she had seen the moon several times, and if what he said was true she hadn't been here for much more than a week. Not even. She remembered being told by Peck earlier that same thing about the Lord of Shadow about his power over the dead.

Anise looked at the ground in thought. She had several choices to make. She could start summoning the spirits now, or she could start meeting the Kith right now. She knew that the Lord of Shadow would most definitely take offense to a summoning from her, but she also needed to have a conversation with them. The Kith would likely be dangerous for at least Peck, but she felt she could protect him.

Anise appreciated his willingness to suggest a starting point. However one statement from the Dragon weighed heavily on her mind. She had to speak with her children. That took precedence in her mind and felt to be the most important thing in the dream she had just had.

She looked up to Peck and looked him in the eyes. "I would like to start with meeting the Spirits, but isn't there a way to find them that would not insult them? I feel that calling to them without pulling them suddenly from... wherever they are living." She felt that just calling them suddenly would be more harmful than anything. She also remembered the symbol that was left on her hand after her meeting with the Lady of the Pond for the first time.

She glanced at her hand remembering her meeting with the Lady of the Pond not long ago. "After I met with the Lady of the Pond I awakened with this rune on my hand." She raised her hand concentrating on it as she remembered the last time she had done so it had become visible. "I am not sure what it means. I know that the Witch uses runes, but do you know them as well?" She knew it was important, but she understood little of them.


[System]
Race: Drow
Gender: Female
Age: 120
Appearance:

Zatana stands at a fairly average height, her form being well-muscled from the climbing and acrobatics that are part of her vocation. Wiry and flexible, but there is the hard muscle of someone having to fight for survival. With high cheekbones and delicate features, she keeps her long pale hair pinned to the back of her head in a braid to use in combination with her charms when it is needed. But that is if she allows anyone to see the ashy grey skin or get so close to determine her eyes are truly black. Keeping herself wrapped in leather armor head to toe and helped by a ragged cloak of dark material when she can be a bit more relaxed. When she does not feel the need to reveal herself, any possibility of showing skin or hair is wrapped in bandages.

Bio: Her grandfather, Murdoc Do'ana, was the reason her life became even possible. A mage who tested the idea of what was possible and not, he was held in high regard in the Drowish side of the Dread Coast, though he is well known. Sly, kind, cunning and all too aware of just how to manipulate others. He does have an odd sense of justice that is strangely hard to argue against. Her mother had no want or desire to raise a child and Zatana's father only mentioned her existence to his father, Murdoc, in passing years after her birth. In all essentiality, Zartana makes no bones that her grandfather paid her mother to relinquish her claim and give the grandchild over. It happened, life moved on and at the tender age of seven, Zartana began studying the ways of shadows and secrets, and not just how to pick a pocket.

She was her grandfather's left hand, the sleight of hand he needed to pass messages and arrange things and listen at street corners. She transcribed his notes later on and helped him with his experiments, learning how to draw secrets from people from talking or force. Zatana loved the mage, adored him. Finding out about a plot to kill her beloved grandfather, Zatana acted without hesitation. Killing the two assassins, using the knowledge of the body she gained studying under Murdoc.

Now with a bodyguard as well as an assistant. Murdoc found himself rather pleased with the turn of events. If only for his own ends and his experiments being able to continue without interruption by the petty games his rivals played. He used his granddaughter's skill with the blade and honed it. Refusing any imperfection. Yet, he was a man who was rarely ever content. But Murdoc Do'ana was dissatisfied with the news he got from outside the Dread Coast and having the perfect person to be his eyes, he sent Zatana. Traveling for years, she finally moved to intercept an assassin her own grandfather had sent after the Prince and joined the guard.

Then again, that was exactly as her grandfather had planned and ordered.

Personality quirks:
Traits: - Loyalty is everything to her, just as her business at gathering intel and carrying out her job. And her race makes that harder, as well as a love for cute things.
Ideal - "I must survive and pay the debt of life I owe."

Bond: Murdoc Do'ana; Her grandfather and the one she came to the Empire under the orders of. He raised, trained and set her out into the world. If he asks anything of her? How could she refuse?
- Relon Vaugh; The lover of the assassin she killed to join the Prince's Guard.

Flaw: Divided loyalties and she finds herself rather obsessed with perfection in what she does. Itchy fingers that like to slip away items.

Fighting Style: She uses daggers as if she was born to them. The throwing, and stabbing kind. Zatana is decent with a bow, taking it up to get a range as getting close to the enemy is not a good idea if she isn't getting the drop on them.

Equipment: She wears hardened leather armor, along with a cloak or cloth to hide her skin. She has ten daggers on her. Two in each armpit, wrist, boot, and each side of the waist as well as one on the back of the neck and one behind her back. The daggers at her waist and behind her back are heavy fighting daggers, while the one in her boots are stilettos. She has a bow and a full quiver of arrows varying from barbed headed to sleeker arrows. The last item is a small book carefully hidden usually under her armor, Zatana's Grimoire. Filled more with notes on the Empire in her meandering code than of spells.

Skills/Abilities:
Shadow Step - The ability to disappear into shadow, blending in and being hard to see.
Poison: A good understanding of poisons and applying them to her weapons.
Experienced thief/Spy- Skilled at eavesdropping, slight of hand, picking pockets, lockpicking.
Assassin: Understanding the art of killing people by stabbing them from behind.
Forgery: She can forge notes, or quickly transcribe information.

Other Information:
1. Listen to the GM(s), If you have a complaint tell me. I am not an evil dictator and if I am wrong I will admit it.
2. Romance and Gore allowed, But keep it in good taste and in site rules
3. Now not all characters will play nice with each other I understand that, but keep the disputes in the RP not in OOC
4. Be civilized and polite please
5. All basic RP rules apply to this roleplay: Power playing, Meta gaming, and others are not allowed.
6. The story isn't exactly set, if you have an idea for a mission feel free to pm me the details and I'll try to work it in.
7. Copy the rules into a Hider in the "other" of your cs so I know you read them.
8. Get into your character's skin become him or her as you are playing have fun and give us insight into their thoughts.
9. Try to keep active, in both the IC and OOC pages please. And even if you don't have anything to say, at least read the OOC

[User]
"Sounds like an interesting group of characters. And even a Drow you say...? Tell me, do they have that Majestic Beauty that I've heard about from Elves? Think I would have a shot with her?" Fullar asked seemingly serious. Rudolph's eyes widened in surprise at his old friends comment. "You gotta set me up man, it's a once in a lifetime opportunity. Especially in the Empire. he continued. Rudolph exhaled unsure on what to say. Is he really serious? he thought. "You don't seem too phased by it though. Thought you hated Drow like everyone else around here?"

Rudolph sighed, "I don't know what to say mate." he began, thinking back about what happened, "I suppose I only hated them because I were brought up with it." he shrugged, "I realised that I don't really have much of a reason, so whats the point eh?" he continued.

After a moments pause. "You know it has been a while. I got a good vintage stashed at the barracks, we should sit and share the bottle, pass around some stories, how's that sound?" Fullar said as they made their way. "Sounds like a plan mate." nodded Rudolph as they just about walked in the door.

"Evening Sergeants." the voice was that of Captain Helt, given how he looks and sounds, he could be seen as a stereotypical politician of this time.
"Captain." Rudolph greeted in turn. There was some tension in the air as per usual, Captain Helt often exuded it as though it were an aura.

Helt sat at one of the tables reading a report and occasionally sipping some of his ale. He took a glance at the two men as they made their way across the canteen.
"I hear Captain Fenne died during one of the attacks this morning." Helt said pretending to read his report papers. "Aye sir, he'd been one of the casualties from one of the bombardments." replied Rudolph as he stopped by the stairs to the troop personal quarters. "And you didn't think to give word to one of the other Captains?" he asked with a somewhat condescending tone that he normally had. "I was busy trying to maintain the defences as we were under attack. We needed everyone we had at the time." Rudolph replied.

"Indeed. I shall make a note of this insolence Sergeant. Make sure you make the right decision next time." followed Helt before he took another drink of his ale. Rudolph clenched his fists trying to keep his anger in check, Arrogant Prick he thought to himself as he then began ascending the stairs.

The rest of the evening was reasonably relaxed compared to the rest of the day. The two men brought up old stories, and caught up with eachothers more recent news. The rest of the troop were slowly returning to the barracks themselves, some were more drunk than others. It wasn't till the early hours when Rudolph went to sleep, and it was a long needed one.

[Assistant]
"You be careful, Acrius' 'teaching' has been known to leave men with broken bones," Faira actually didn't know if this was true, but it tallied with her experience of the young man.

She looked the girl over, sizing her up before stepping very close and speaking to Acrius in an undertone.

"Zatana and I have work outside the walls tonight. The Guard will be two short, so be extra vigilant. But don't spread that about."

She clicked her tongue at Steak and made her way toward the Eastern gate.

The cannon that had been moved here was quiet for the time being, but Faira was pleased to see that the guard here was as alert as ever, despite the lateness. She saw at least two who were tousled haired and had clearly gotten out of bed recently.

She waited here for Zatana.

[User]
Satisfied the Record Keeper was going to record things, Zatana patted the little figure on the head with a finger. "Record as much as you can, dear one. I shall bring thee more on which to record." Not bothering to wait for an answer, Zatana swung herself over the lee of the roof and kept on her way. It would be no hassle after all to retrieve the small familiar, and this would prove amusing while she went about her business. Yet, Zatana was too aware that slowing down would mean her ability would be seen as lacking something the dark elf was not keen on. It was a point of pride for Zatana that she was very good at what she did. So it was thus, she did not see Faira ride up.

The roofs were easy to cross over, and she was even able to slip into a small office above a shop. Whoever thought it to be locked well, was deluded. Stepping into the room, she plucked some plain parchment from the desk and a piece of twine used to hold stacks of books together. Slipping out with just as much ease, she hung upside down from the roof while her fingers closed and locked the window. Holding the twine in her mouth through the mask, she dropped to the street. It was a straight shot to the Western Gate, and she soon found her mare. The guards were eyeing the wicked beastie with some temptation as she began saddling the horse again. The knife-like ears hidden under the cowl caught the disgusted whispers of 'drow', 'dark elf', but it was the comment 'wicked horse, wicked elf' that made her smiled from behind the mask. Swinging into the saddle, she wrapped the reins about a small loop of leather in the front and set the mare towards where she had left the squabbling couple. Urging the horse to a fast pace, and the mare delighted at the sound of her wicked staccato on the cobblestones. Guiding the mare with her knees as she rocked with the movement of the horse, Zatana set about folding the paper into a tiny little booklet, her fingers flick a knife into her hand as she carefully cut any folded page free so it would be accessible. Two holes were bored into the 'spine' and a the twine was threaded through as she slowed the mare to a walk. It was a 'book', if the tiny one-inch thing, could be considered a 'book'.

Sighing, she saw the two were still at the same spot they had left them. Nodding to Acrius, she raised a brow as she paused the mare. Pressing to sidestep the horse close to the building and raising a hand for the record keeper. "Acrius." She greeted softly. Her dark eyes watching the young woman with a warning sharpness. What Zatana didn't add was the 'wench' thought she was thinking about the young girl. The drow were loose with their morals, it was true. But this girl was trouble and Zatana had seen that look before on a face. It rarely ended well for the men.

Perhaps she would have some mercy and claim he was needed by the Prince's decree?

Then again, she thought as the record keeper slipped into her hand and she lowered herself in the saddle, perhaps not. Offering the tiny familiar the book, she nudged the horse on.


[System]
"Just for tonight, why don't we have a little fun?"
Age:
15
Height:
4ft 2in
Weight:
80lbs
Quirk:
Doppelganger- This quirk is able to create a copy of the user, allowing both parts to act independently and with full control.
Description:Axel is a small child with a small frame. Often letting her being over looked by her peers. Not that she cared that much about them; she was always happy of in her own little world. Her quirk left much to think about as she grew into it; though rather, she didn't. Any time one of her copies would disappear, she'd continue on as if it was never there in the first place. To her, perhaps it didn't.

It wasn't until the death of All Might that she even thought about becoming a hero. Perhaps she still wasn't set on it, though making herself somewhat relevant in this line of work has been the most focused she's been about anything for a long time. As for her personal life; well, she's easily spotted around town. She's yet to find a buddy to hang around with, though she seems to be everywhere. From the tennis courts, to the arcade. Raman shops to Karaoke; she explores life on a whim and its hard to find someone that can keep up.
Miscellaneous:Likes* Disco
* Going with the flow
* Letting loose

Dislikes* Party poopers
* Debby downers
* Hostile Harrys

Theme

[User]
Haruishi Mari

Mari looked out the window as the city's namesake blanketed the streets. It was a cold day; it wasn't even the 'nippy', refreshing kind of cold either, it was the damp, humid, seeps-into-your-bones kind of cold. But when you were homeless, you got used to the cold, whatever its form. She hoped it would rain. The feel of rain on her face meant freedom. She looked around the bus, seeing those who were excited, as well as those who were as stoic about this whole thing as she was. She wondered how many of them were truly serious about becoming heroes, but then again, those who weren't serious would have probably already given up the moment they got their rejections from UA, Shiketsu, or Ketsubutsu. No, anyone who was willing to come all the way out here to Jigokuraku had to have grit, they had to really want it. Mari smiled a bit. No dealing with pampered princes and half-assed motivations. She would give everyone in the bus right now the benefit of the doubt; nobody was here for a free ride, everyone was here to get an education, something that so many kids took for granted. Mari touched the harmonica tucked between her shirt and her sweater.

As the bus came to a stop, Mari got her first warning signs. They had arrived at a rubble heap. This detail alone was not what got Mari's attention. After all, destructive aftermaths were the ugly truth about hero work, and she had no qualms about that. What bothered her was the look on some of her peers' faces as they arrived. "What were you expecting, a 5-star hotel?" Mari thought to herself. The next warning flag was the announcer. Likely a teacher with a misleading physique, and an even more misleading devil-may-care attitude. Mari visibly winced when the 'teacher' flung the civilian doll into the bus, and a look of disdain and horror passed across her face as some of her classmates actually seemed relieved that rough treatment of civilians was acceptable. As the cognitive dissonance mounted, Mari arrived at a logical escape: it was a trick!

"DO NOT BE FOOLED!" Mari declared like a drill sergeant, flinging out her long black hair, widening her stance and crossing her arms, "It's a trick! Our heroic mettle is being tested! Unless you want to be failed, you will treat the civilians with utmost care! This isn't about points! Real heroes don't compete for points!"

With a satisfied smile, Mari looked towards the bus for confirmation from the teacher, but the windows were too fogged over to make out the petite woman inside. "ALSO! Your suggestions for teaming up are most commendable," Mari said, taking into account all that had been said.

"If you prefer to take out villains, coordinate with the girl with the black-and-white hair and the girl with the pink hair. If you want to focus on civilian rescue, coordinate with the girl with red-rimmed glasses, the boy with blue skin, and myself." She walked over to Houki and Minami, giving them a nod, before continuing, "If you are unsure, I suggest you discuss with the green-haired boy."

"Dogorasu Goro was it?" Mari said, turning her attention to Goro, "Haruishi Mari. Where will you be putting your effort?" She swept her gaze over to Kaito, established eye contact, and nodded, indicating that the question was directed to him as well.

@follycle
@ShwiggityShwah

of Thoth
@Zelosse

[Assistant]
---

Shiki remained silent throughout the entire bus ride, casually browsing through his phone which was three generations behind the latest model. It frustrated him that certain apps he wanted weren't compatible or simply just didn't function properly. He constantly tells himself to save up some money and get a new phone already, instead he would impulsively buy new parts for his computer or spend it on games which he only plays once before shelving them forever. He hated being caught in that boring loop, so moving to Kirisama was the first step for him to a lifestyle change. Coincidentally, it was around the same time he decided to fully commit towards becoming a hero.

After he moved into the city less than a year ago, his first impressions were exactly how he imagined it would be, a total shithole. The intensive research he has done lessened the impact of his emotions, but the destructive sight was still spine-chilling nonetheless. Not as spine-chilling as the weather this morning, it was freakin' freezing outside. Shiki was thinking he should've wore heavier clothing than just a plain hoodie, his body was clearly shivering from the cold when he first arrived on the bus. His glasses remained foggy, which didn't really bother him at all. He was feeling kind of lazy today, so instead of wiping his lenses, he tilted his head to look at his phone from underneath his glasses.

When the bus came to an abrupt stop, Shiki immediately fixed his posture from his seat with a confused expression on his face. He put away his phone in his pocket and finally cleared up his glasses before finally looking out the window, which was difficult to see due to the dense fog. Initially, he thought there was no way they could've arrived at their destination already, judging by the location. This didn't look like the kind of place to take an exam, but when the instructor appeared, it finally became clear to him.

Damn, this is not what I was expecting so early in the morning...

After following everyone else off the bus, he stood to the far side of the group with his hands rubbing against his arms, trying to keep himself warm. Despite being unprepared for this type of scenario, he felt excited and attentive now. He carefully listened to what the girl had to say and quickly realized something. Are the villains dummies as well? If they did encounter a villain, he probably won't be able to contribute anything during combat. At least, that is how he currently thought about his own quirk. His self-esteem would've taken a big hit, had it not been for the rescue portion of the exam.

Without having to see through his glasses back on the bus, he was aware some of his peers stuck out like a sore thumb. All of them appeared to be capable of carrying someone useless like him, including the girl who remained on the bus. He was relieved when some of them suggested about forming groups. The civilian rescue team as Mari pointed out was his ideal choice. Although, that may be subject to change if he somehow gets screwed over into joining the villain capture team. Either way, he hoped that he wouldn't be much of a burden to his teammates.

He began shuffling over to his desired team without saying much of a word to anyone else.

[User]
"Umm...",
was about all the reaction Azukina could give at the loud lady's, err, yelling? At least at first. It caught her by surprise, even though she knew she shouldn't have been, that this 'Haruishi' thought it best to team up. Even though others had voiced their opinions on the matter, they weren't quite loud enough to break her concentration like she did. It was even worse that she was grouped together with the other teams, worst of all someone else who thought they could take on villains in their own little group.
There would be only one villain-fighting group, as far as Yomodachi was concerned, and that group was hers.

"Just to be clear," chimed Black-n-White in a way that you just knew was about to start something. "The notion that we should all team up to pass is silly. Coordination and cooperation is fine, but heroes in the real world have their rank and pay based upon their individual skill, and team disparity is still very much a real thing. I'm not about to hand over free points to someone who hasn't earned it - this is a competitive exam, not a cooperative one. If they wanted that kind of exam, they would've given us a different one." She didn't turn around as she spoke, simply speaking aloud while waiting for whatever signal was about to come to start them off.
"The villains here, assuming they're animated, are a priority both because of their worth and how they can interrupt rescue operations. In the real world, in this environment, the danger doesn't come from the debris which has already fallen, but by the injustices that these villains can commit still standing. And you're right: heroes don't compete for points. They compete in other areas. However what's the point in having a test where the skill of each recipient can't be accurately measured? It's not like you can rank heroism out of ten; you either are or you aren't heroic, it's a checkbox, not a scale."

"Now, with that said..." She paused and took a look over her shoulder at all those standing behind her, a fierce look in her eyes, as though scanning the rest of the students. She wasn't pissed or anything, but certainly was driven.

"This test is about score. We know how to score points, and if I had to guess, there is criteria for losing points, too. Perhaps cooperation is one of them. But that doesn't mean I'm going to be wasting time dispatching villains or rescuing civilians by being 'careful' with the 'injured'. The villains I don't mind, but those dummies are how we'll be distinguished between, so sharing them means screwing with my own chances of winning. Just like the pros, we can be efficient without being slaves."

It was a bit of a speech, but if she didn't voice it right then and there she knew she'd be roped into following the whole 'save people together' idea, which wasn't how she wanted to work. After all, there could only be one Number One Hero.
And Azukina Yomodachi had every intention of taking that spot.
Number One Student would do for now.

[Assistant]
"Macho, macho man~ Hmm hmmhmm hm, a macho~ man! Macho, hm hm hm~ Hey! Hey! Hey, Hey, Hey!" Third from last row, a cheery girl sat by her lonesome. Nodding along to a hum she sang all by herself as she stared blissfully out the side window. When she first chose this spot, she shared her seat with another; though that girl seemed to no longer be found, and everyone who was anyone accounted for when the bus finally rolled out for their little field trip. So, she was left to stare at the town that is, was, and always will be her home. The broken scars of the past out for everyone to see. It wasn't a secret to what happened while she lived in this city, though it didn't affect everyone the same.

Axel could easily be described as blissfully unaware of the past this city had gone through in the past few years; though they'd only be half right. Where others screamed and sought resolution to the conflict, Axel showed no sign of acknowledgement to the city's perils. Acting if there were no danger between her and her destinations. Exploring the city during its darkest hour. Yet somehow, for some reason, here she was; on a bus to learn how to be a hero.

The bus rolled to a stop. Though, she didn't bother to move. She was happy humming along to a different beat now as the others shuffled around, talking to one another. A baby landed in the bus and she was instantly curious. making her way forward she could hear a little better of what was going on, though she paid little attention to everything but rescuing the doll from reckless abandonment. She picked it up of the ledge and carried it back to her seat. Talking in a mix match of language barely comprehensible, though more to the nature of what she able to gather about their objective. Supposedly, everyone was waiting for a signal. She and the baby looked out the window from her seat, noting the girl that she first sat with had joined up again with the others.

𝒜𝓍𝑒𝓁 couldn't wait for the show to start. People were talking about splitting off in to teams, and not splitting off, and all sort of thoughts and opinions on what to do. To which she had nothing to add. Rather she merely waited for the signal to start them off. Perhaps she should first go find more babies. She didn't exactly bring clothes to tussle in.


[System]
Quote: "And who's gonna stop me? …You?"
Alias: Omega
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Family: Mother - Sonya (super); Father - Richard, older brother - Ellis (non-super)

Occupation:
Coming from a family who manages their finances pretty well, Manny makes his money work for him, giving him time to train most days. He does, however, help his father with his construction business quite often, taking care not to reveal their relation.

Appearance:

Manny is 5'9" and about 185lbs. He has a muscular build but isn't massively buff. He does like to show off his arms, so most of his wardrobe is short sleeved or sleeveless.

His 'hero' wear consists of a black jumpsuit (loose like clothing, not tight like a leotard) with no sleeves and a large cowl neck; a tank top under the jumpsuit (varying colors); fingerless gloves the same color as the tank top; a leather belt; black boots; and aviator goggles.

Method of Operation:
His home base is in a secret location, but he can usually be found cruising the rooftops, surveilling the city from above. He has enough cooperation with the authorities that he hasn't been arrested yet. Since he can easily take out larger groups, he usually looks out for gang activity.

Superpower:
Gravity Manipulation
Manny can alter his own gravity or the gravity of a given area, the largest being about the size of a school gymnasium. He also uses a few gravity-based attacks. Specific abilities include:

Upforce/Downforce: decrease/increase the effect of the planet's gravity in a specific area
Force Push/Pull: repel/attract objects using force (precision is somewhat limited)
Concussive Blast: emit a burst of force in single direction
Zero Point Gravity: can attract all matter within a small area to a single point in space
Personal Gravity Manipulation/Gravity Aura: can alter the effects of gravity on himself enhancing his jumping ability, allowing him to walk on walls/ceilings, and giving him levitation and gliding abilities (though he can't technically 'fly'). He also uses this power to land harder strikes when fighting and repel things like bullets (he has to be consciously doing this; he's not bulletproof).

Manny is limited to the amount of alteration happening at one time. This includes area of effect, the strength of the alteration, and the amount of time the area is affected.

Reckless use of his power can also cause a good bit of collateral damage, so he has to be careful when affecting the gravity of something other than himself.

Skills:
Since his vigilante work involves frequent contact with bad guys, Manny has become a skilled fighter. He trains at several different gravity levels and, at times, with weighted clothing. He also has very good parkour skills. Also, thanks to his father, he knows a good bit about construction.

Equipment:
Aviator goggles - altering gravity can sometimes loosen up a lot of floating particles
Music player - never goes anywhere without his music
Bulletproof vest - for days when he's feeling particularly unlucky, but he's not always wearing one (he goes up against a lot of gangs)

Personality:
Being born a super has given Manny a thick skin when it comes to negativity. He doesn't let many things bother him and humbly recognizes his superiority over humans. He understands the human disdain for supers: some are jealous, some scared, others are just put off by the abnormal. As a matter of fact, he has a certain animosity himself for supers who misuse or abuse their powers. Jeopardizing innocent lives is wrong no matter what a person's genetic code happens to be.

Manny likes adventure and exploration, and living in Millennium City ensures he's never bored. Having powers gives him freedom from a normal human lifestyle and using those powers for good gives him a sense of purpose.

When faced with a challenge, he is confident in his abilities but still errs on the side of caution. He knows how to stay level-headed in most situations, seeing panic and doubt as surefire ways to fail.

Manny tends to keep people in the neutral zone until he sees their true nature. He prefers independence, but still cooperates with others if necessary. He likes to crack a joke or two, whether or not the humor is appreciated. Since Manny has earbuds permanently attached to his head, he tends to quote a lot of lyrics and sing/hum to himself.

Biography:
Manny grew up just outside Millennium City. His father, Richard, owns a construction company which started locally and moved into the city when business grew, and his mother, Sonya, works at the local children's hospital. His parents met in high school and married soon afterward. Sonya revealed her power to Richard a little after they got engaged which she was certain would drive him away, but he was only upset that she hadn't mentioned it sooner. This may had only been because she had a 'good' power, but to this day, he claims that it was because of 'true love'. His mother has the ability to physically heal people with her singing voice.

Sonya had to pretty much beg for children, the second being an easier sell because the first didn't have powers. Richard's human genes apparently dominated in Manny's older brother, Ellis, so Manhattan is the only child of theirs with powers. Growing up, Sonya helped Manny develop his powers while always urging him to keep it to himself. He didn't quite understand why he had to be so secretive when his mom used her powers for work, but she always told him he would get it one day.

When 'one day' came, Manny was in his late teens and he decided to pack up his things and move into the city. His parents reluctantly let him go, reminding him that the city was dangerous even for a super, and especially for a teenager, but they couldn't change his mind. He needed a place to freely explore his powers, and he promised to never get his family involved or even reveal his relation to them (in case he gained some enemies).

Manny took to the city pretty well and spent a lot of time exploring, but he didn't really get serious about being a vigilante until his brother was injured in a fire caused by a pyrokinetic. Ellis ended up trapped underneath some fallen rubble, and even though Manny was able to rescue him, Ellis was paralyzed from the waist down and confined to a wheelchair. At that moment, Manhattan dedicated himself fully to ridding the city of crime and finding the person responsible for his brother's injury.

Theme Song:
Weapons of Mass Distortion - The Crystal Method

Relationships:
TBD

Extra:
We...are not...normal.

[User]
Interacting with: Everyone in the warehouse, particularly Tank @General Scales

---

---

Before he knew it, Levi noticed a few more vigilantes entering the mix, some with well known names and others whispered amongst the populace as myth. Levi didn't really have an alias, nor a reason to hide his identity so he wasn't exactly impressed by Ditch's knowledge about him, but was curious about her knowledge about the other vigilantes and of course about 'Umbra'.

A damp and dark aura could be felt around the area, and before Levi knew it, there was another person next to Ditch, darkness basically hanging off of her body. It was Reaper, another name whispered amongst the masses. Levi was slightly impressed at the studded cast of 'vigilantes' gathered around.

"No need to be so bitter."
"You read the text, you know what you're here for. And please. Everything's available nowadays, no matter if you've spoken it or not."

Ditch replied to his inquiry earlier, however the answer just darkened Levi's expression further, but for now he chose to stay silent. Levi didn't care much for the reveal of her true identity, sure she was a looker. Levi in particular didn't care much about his own identity, so after taking a glance at 'Ditch' he looked back at the encroaching darkness, his patience wearing thin waiting for the other vigilantes to make their flashy entrances.

Ironically the next vigilante came normally, Turn back. Asking a question about something, of course he himself didn't care about, as after giving a fleeting glance he turned back staring into the nothingness. Well, until everything started shaking, another one, burst through the scene, no quite literally burst in on the weakened walls. Levi scowled, he jumped down from the support beam, and landed on the floor, his yellow lightning beginning to encircle and crackle around him.

"You." Levi directed at Tank, his scowl darkening further, "Do you intend to kill everyone here? Did you not see the state of this building before you entered?" as he said this the intensity of his lightning grew, in the darkness you could clearly see Levi because of the lightning furiously cascading around him. It was stupid to burst in on a building that was basically about to collapse by itself

Before he could get the answer, three more vigilantes entered the fray, but Levi was too focused on 'Tank' because of his flashy stunt that could have potentially made the building collapse. He heard the faint sound of a spray can, which Levi would have guessed to be Graffiti. Nevertheless his attention was never fully taken away from 'Tank.'

[Assistant]
She could hear the gentle movement of taking off one's mask, this was Ditch? The person in front of her?
A female, once again her own age, maybe even younger? She had no clue. A kind spirit holding something back, something hiding, no surprise, in this line of work you had to do that. She didn't know much about Ditch, even without the mask, all Aurora could figure out was that she was interesting.

Her Grim next to her began to move. His claws scraping the ground she listened to the scaly hide brush the stage as it jumped, landing near the woman who orchestrated the meeting. Green eyes looking up at the blond in silence for a few seconds, the quite air broken by a snap of it's jaws. A strange shriek like noise escaping it's throat that belonged to no dog.
She knew that sound, least she thought she did. "He's a Grim, a beast that will tell it's victim if they will face great misfortune in the future. Whoever you are Ditch, do be careful in the future."

She herself has used the Grim before and she found he was never really wrong, sure he was not direct. You could never figure out the time, place or exactly what would happen. Its something that keeps her from using him too much. But she could not deny it was useful in situations like this at times.

It didn't take long for a crash to be heard, tearing wood and wire. The stage, someone had just smashed through the stage. It had to be Tank, there were some well known names here and Tank was the one for destruction.
Staying at her post she could hear the one with the piercing gaze land behind her, yet thankful his eyes were not locked on her back any-more. His voice claiming that Tan could destroy this place, she called forth her book again.
"Hold on, don't move...grim my friend, disperse" Flipping through a page with a single motion she ran her finger over one of the many lines. The Grim vanishing in a wisp of emerald smoke. "Don't move, hes right I can hear everything snapping around you. Guy could bring the stage down at least." With her warning told she began to speak.
"With wings of silent fire, and a heart ever so great, he takes you to the skies, so long as you understand the stake, a burden of hero's and a blade of fortune, I call forth the companion of flames and other's misfortune."

On her shoulder appeared the same bird like creature she rode here, the beast seeming to be far smaller with darken flames occasionally capturing the light to gain a blue and white hue.
"Get him out of there if you will." Spreading it's wings it seemed to be no larger than a peacock, beating its wings to fly to Tank he gripped it's talon's in the giant's shoulder.
 "Don't struggle, he is a phoenix so moving you is nothing so long as you don't throw a fit. Going back the way you came will only cause more damage."
 The bird slowly but surly lifting the Tank began to set the male down on the stage before releasing him, with the deed done Aurora once again closed the book, a word of thanks as the beast vanished.

Hearing a voice at her side she simply mentioned with her head. "The one before us of course, do not worry, we were simply waiting for others."

Indeed she was, in the span of a few words more were coming, females if she was not mistaken. Each one having a different voice and different way of moving. Intimidating to say the least.

[User]
When Ditch unmasked herself, Manny wasn't entirely surprised. He kind of called it which brought a hint of a smirk to his face. Just as she came down to engage the group more closely, yet another guy walked into the meeting.

What's that...seven of us now?

Immediately following the latest arrival, something - or someone, rather - crashed through the wall behind Ditch and… into the stage.

Tank…

Manny looked at him with a raised eyebrow and chuckled to himself. Was he trying to level this place? It's a good thing they were in an abandoned area or that would have definitely drawn some attention.

Just as Manny was about to turn his attention back to Ditch, there was yet another late arrival. This time it was a young girl whom he recognized, but he didn't actually know her name. He'd almost jumped in to rescue her once, thinking she was about to get mugged (or worse), until she beat the ever-loving crap out of her attackers. The way she fought, he figured she was a super, so he let her handle her biz.

Before the words finished coming out of the girl's mouth, Manny noticed another person quietly slipping into the room. And just when he thought the group couldn't get any bigger, a figure dropped in through the ceiling a moment later. Manny immediately recognized Graffiti, who proceeded to tag the nearest wall.

And all I did was walk in…

As Tank was lifted from his tangle of wood and ragged cloth, Manny silently assessed the damage and prayed once again that the place didn't come crashing down. He looked around at the sheer number of people in the room.

Umbra must be a bad dude if we need this many people to try and take him down. I mean, he did manage to capture Suiren…

He once again turned his attention to Ditch, who seemed as though she was still waiting for people. There were already eleven of them. How many more could be coming?


[System]
Age
17
Place of Residence
166 Everbrook Circle
Personality Traits
The Prescott's are known for being fiscally responsible, intelligent, upstanding citizens of Everbrook. Abbie Prescott is an anomaly if one would expect such things from the daughter of James Prescott and Laura Lee Sparrow.

Abigail isn't the greatest of students, not particularly book smart, nor is she particularly the model daughter of such a family. The only thing in common she holds with her father's family is being fiscally responsible, though she sort of has to be considering the fact that she is not allowed great privilege despite being from a prestigious family. She has no credit card, no allowance, and is expected to be "self-determined"; to earn everything that she wants. It's easy to be fiscally responsible when you are the only girl on Everbrook Circle without expendable income. In fact, the only thing she has is a car and that was only because her Sweet Sixteen allowed her to finally get one. She didn't even think she was getting one until her mother put the keys in her hand.

She hates it. She hates all of it. But it's life.

Speaking of her manners, Abbie isn't exactly mean, but she does channel her frustrations in a less than tactful manner. She's sarcastic, often at other's expenses. She thinks she has it just as bad as kids from Courtland Street, even if it's not exactly comparable. She's rather self-centered and when she gets mad she seems to make everything out to be much worse than it is. Her own cousin, Samuel, thinks she's full of hot air. For those that know Abbie they probably wouldn't contest that much.

That said, Abbie isn't a sociopath or even a "Queen Bee" type. She certainly frames herself to be an alpha, but a lot of that seems to be more present on the basketball court rather than in casual conversation. Whereas her family prefers social niceties, Abbie doesn't. In fact, Abbie's honest demeanor can be oft mistaken for antagonistic japes when she is merely being blunt. Though sometimes it would help if she could read the room, or measure her responses better. Of all the kids born from the families on Everbrook Circle, one could probably do worse than Abigail "Abbie" Prescott. That much is for sure. At least she won't brag about having more money than you, after all.
Family History/Backstory
The Prescott Family is one of the oldest families in the city of Everbrook.

Abigail, Abbie to anyone that knows her, has had a motor since she was old enough to walk. Despite only growing to be five-foot-three she has shown an affinity for competition and a flair for the dramatic. Every single girls' basketball team in Everbrook has highlighted her talents at the guard position. Still, the spotlight hasn't made her happy enough. She wants to be free of Everbrook and while she has the prestige that a member of the Prescott Family deserves, she lacks the opportunity. In over nine generations not a single Prescott has left Everbrook. Some who wanted to never got the chance to.

But family secrets are elusive, flying under Abbie's radar with relative ease. She's not particularly inquisitive due to her hyper-focused and self-centered nature. Her Sweet Sixteen wasn't too long ago and the idea of a collegiate basketball career has not yet crossed her mind. Right now she's hoping to drag Everbrook's sorry excuse for a girls' basketball program to a State and National Championship. However, she might not get that chance. The upcoming summer is strange and full of misfortune. She had been called up to a basketball camp… but her invitation was canceled last minute when the camp was canceled. When she tried to drive out of Everbrook for a festival in another state the only way out was blocked off by a traffic accident on six different occasions.

What the hell was going on?
Other Info
* The Prescott's are rather wealthy. They have run the Prescott Cider Mill since 1736 and own several non-essential businesses in Everbrook. One member of the family was even Mayor during the First World War.
* Her mother comes from a long line of bankers. Her grandfather runs the Prescott National Bank.
* Her car is a 1970 Plymouth Roadrunner. She hoped for something more modern, but it's Everbrook. There are still functional payphones, after all.
* She has a part-time job working at the local supermarket -- though its more of a general store.

[User]
---

Location: Court Street, Everbrook Public Library

---

Ruby was parking her bike at the remaining unoccupied bike stands when she heard her name being mentioned. You would think that being so early in the vacation, the town's only library would be relatively empty, but no, there seemed to be sizeable crowd already gathering at the library, and perhaps, just perhaps, it being the town's only library had something to do with it. That was most probably the reason unless everyone here today had the same thoughts of her. Since when did people come so early in the vacation to the library anyway?

She turned around to find out who the owner of the voice was, and found it to be none other than Astrid Evans. At least that would who she would be, if she managed to get her name right. She didn't exactly know the girl well, but Ruby was at least 85% sure that the dark-haired girl is indeed Astrid Evans. The one with the Funeral home. Yep, the more she thought about it, the more sure she was that she had gotten the other girl's identity right. "Yup. I'm Ruby. You're Astrid right?" Finishing up with parking her bike, she spoke up once more. "Here to return some books? I am." She gestured towards her deformed backpack. "More than some actually."

Not delaying any longer, Ruby entered the library and ended towards the bookdrop area and emptied the contents of her backpack, temporarily freeing herself of the burden she had been carrying. She was just about to head towards the Mystery section of the library when she saw William heading towards the front of the library with what looked like an apprehensive and slightly worried expression on his face.

At least that was what she thought it looked like. He mentioned something about it getting really cold all of a sudden, and then realization dawned onto her. It was definitely a whole lot colder than it usually was. "It most certainly is. Now that you mention it, I don't remember it ever being this cold before." Will wasn't the only one that jumped when the loud slams came from the back of the library. Loud sounds tend to frightened her, and she too jumped, giving her a good fright.

[Assistant]
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sometimes Astrid wondered how people could be naturally pretty. While they had not had much in the way of a friendship or fleeting acquaintanceship, she knew her enough to notice her in passing. It also helped that the town so small insuring that Astrid almost had to notice Ruby Han's fathers' picture in the local supermarket showcasing that he was the manager of their humble grocery operation.  "Yeah, at least the last time I checked. Although nowadays I wouldn't mind being anyone else that doesn't live here. It's like this town is preventing me from leaving and not just because of the quarantine." Astrid didn't really know why she was venting her frustrations to a girl she barely knew, but she always felt comfortable around people she didn't know and that weren't from Everbrook circle.

The unintentional or intentional yoda reference made her giggle in what was otherwise dreary day in a string of dreary days.  "I didn't know you studied that much or that someone could study that much. If you need any help lugging those around, I can help you. By the way, do you know why the parking lot is so crowded? I expected it to be busy but not this much." Her confusion was only further mounted as they made their way inside and she caught the sight of not one, but several of her peers from Everbrook high in attendance.  "What is going on here?" she pondered in her head, her tongue jabbing the insides of her cheek. It kind of felt like the breakfast club with all of them meeting up so conveniently like this especially with the several stereotypes surround them. There was William the bible thumper, Walter the class clown, Abbie the mean girl, and even your resident jock.

Distracted by the crowd she hadn't noticed Ruby had left her side, until the crippling cold waved over her like a blanket. It was suffocating to say the least. The cold instantly reminded her of the funeral home, the morgue more specifically. The same cold she felt when she held her moms' hand for the last time at the wake. It was a feeling that she no longer wished to feel and so her body instinctively reacted by crossing her arms and rubbing her biceps. Without stating the obvious she tried to be more transparent in her questions than William,  "Why is everyone here in the first place?"

[User]
---

 Everbrook Public Library
Entrance, May 28th 2020.

---

 "It's Will," he responded to the Canadian girl. He couldn't fault her for not knowing his name, after all, he didn't even have an idea on how to pronounce hers. Still, her assertations were right; he felt something was off. His sister had a big book that went into all of the different signs of a haunting. It had been based on one of those stupid ghost-hunting shows that had been all the rage a decade ago. But he remembered several of the signs quite well.

Unexplained temperature changes. Strange glitches with technology. Unusual smells. Objects moving and strange sounds. Animals reacting in strange, unnatural ways. "Temperature changes and strange sounds..." he muttered to himself. It wasn't enough to go around shouting "GHOSTS! We've got ghosts here!" He was weird enough at school without getting his ass kicked every day. Besides, he still had to survive senior year.

Other girls were also mentioning the cold, and Will nodded to them walking over to one of the vents in the room, running his hand in front of it. Nothing. "The air's not running," he mentioned, and looked back to the stacks. "I came here to get a book from the basement, but when I tried to go down the stairwell, the door was locked. The staff elevator isn't working either." Glitches with technology too. Three signs.

He started walking towards the stacks again, looking towards the corner door that led to the stairwell. It was wide open as if something was holding it open. He turned back to the others. "I swear when I got here the door was shut and lock-" As he turned back to the stacks, he could see the soft motion of cloth in the corner of the door as if a woman's dress had moved enough to be seen.

Like someone was holding the door open for them. Will looked to Jenny Emerson, who was either so involved in her shitty Netflix show that she didn't even register the change in temperature and the commotion from the teenagers in the room, or she just didn't feel anything. Not that Will thought she'd be much help anyway.

"I'm going to check it out." Sarah was always going on about exploring and finding the unknown. This was his chance to do the same. He started walking down the stacks, seeing the door close gently as he moved towards the door. "Is-is anyone there? Is anyone in the stairwell?" No answer. The only way to move now was forward, for him at least. Anyone else was free to follow or stand around and talk, or wait. But you would have to be a blind idiot to think that there was nothing weird at all going on.

[Assistant]
Abbie crossed her arms, after the books she had been hauling were returned.

She wasn't sure why she had stuck around instead of leaving, but there was just something about the library today that had drawn more people than she had seen at once, especially considering there was no incentive to be at the library in the first place. But no, she was supposed to believe everyone else had decided to return books or use library computers at the exact same time.

"That's a good question." Abbie uttered as the boy, Will, ushered closer to the stairwell. She raised a brow before smirking wryly to answer the other girl's comment about the library. "The library hasn't been this active in a hundred years."

It was a joke, a smart-ass like retort, but given Will decided he wanted to play detective instead of leaving the library or minding his own business she felt the need to cut the tension in the air. It was an old library, it happened to get cold all the time. Abbie didn't really see the need to be this fussy or insistent. She kept her arms crossed as Will called out, wondering if anyone was there, as if this was an episode of Scooby Doo! and he was Shaggy. Based on the cracks in his voice she wondered if he was going to stammer "zoinks!" next. She rolled her eyes before leaning into the nearest wall as she looked over how many exact teenagers had filled into the library at once. Her joke about the library haven't had this many visitors at once in a hundred years seemed to be a joke, but there was something strange about it.

Being a small town with one high school, she recognized all the faces. Though, nothing felt out of place. It was just weird they all ended up at the library at the same time. Not as weird as Will being Will, though. Her glance moved back to him as she waited for the mayor's daughter to sign off on her books and allow her to leave. Go get lunch. Something else.

"You're seriously going to poke around? Really?"


[System]
Sex: Male
Culture: Brittonian
Age: 23
Physical Description:

For all intents, Tristan resembles any other young nobleman who might reside in the court. He dresses finely, and stands both tall and proud. With a mop of brown hair that he keeps short, for the most part, and hazel-coloured eyes that always seem to shine with mirth. His face is fair, his skin pale, and any scars he has are more likely from childhood scrapes than battles. After all, his life is somewhat comfortable, to the observer. He does, however, keep himself fit, from a combination of practicing swordplay and archery, and dancing at events in court.

Occupation/Skillset:

Unknown by most, Tristan is a spy in the employ of the Duke. Well, it wouldn't do for people to know, after all – it would defeat the purpose, in fact. His duties mostly entail surveillance, gathering information that various nobles or merchants might try to conceal. Smuggling silk or spices, diplomatic sabotage, even the occasional murder – all these are Tristan's to uncover. Sometimes he relies on subterfuge, picking locks and climbing through windows, to get what he needs. Other times he uses deceit and charm.
And, of course, he has a fair number of skills that come from being noble, though not all. He has trained in swordsmanship, archery, and riding, learned how to dance, bargain, and strategize. These lend themselves to his overall skill.

Personality:

Tristan considers himself to be suave; and in a sense, he is not incorrect. He is intelligent, charming, elegant, and carries an air of confidence. But he can be arrogant, from time to time, and he is by no means wise. He has a tendency to be zealous, and this can lead to recklessness, or close calls. Due to his blood status, he might suffer from taunts or jeers from his peers, and this usually results in anger. Additionally, around others, he might act pompous, and foolish, though it is far from his actual self – it is a mask he wears, a façade, so that others don't suspect he knows more than he lets on.

Backstory:

Tristan is, in no uncertain terms, a bastard. He is the son of a servant woman, and a minor noble – Lord Aymon Veneti, low enough in power that he wasn't among the most renowned members of the Duke's court, but high enough that he had a measure of recognition. His father was both married and had an heir before Tristan, but that is not to say that he was ignored. In fact, he had a noble upbringing alongside his half-brother, Reinald, and when she was born, his half-sister Adelaide. He was snubbed by his step-mother, of course, but he thought nothing of it for a great portion of his life.

When not being educated by the harsh tutors, or playing games with his brother, he spent time with his mother. Despite the scandal of her son, she had been kept on at the Veneti household, to the Lady Veneti's protests. He would watch her tend to her duties. She kept out of sight like servants should, but Tristan eventually became skilled in identifying where she and the other servants walked, where they'd go to conceal themselves – and he emulated them. Such was his life.

But, eventually, it could no longer last. When he was in the middle of his adolescence, the Lord Aymon took ill, and would succumb a month after. The change was swift. His father was mourned, by both him and his siblings. With Reinald taking over the household, the Lady Veneti stepped in to advise him. Tristan barely saw his brother anymore, but that was to be expected, given he now had duties to attend to. And as time went on, Tristan was given a summons by Reinald, to speak in private. Apparently, his step-mother had been whispering to him that Tristan might plot against him, in a bid for power, that even now he had to be careful of a dagger in his back. Despite Tristan having no such ambitions, they made an agreement, for the safety of both – Reinald from Tristan, and Tristan from the Lady Veneti – that Tristan should leave. That was how the young nobleman found his way to the Duke's court.

Announcing himself as Reinald's representative, he would attend court in his brother's stead. This covered the documentation of taxes, the crops grown and the serfs that died and were born. Missives were carried between the castle and the Veneti residence. One day, however, Tristan found himself bored, and whilst walking the corridors, saw another man, a noble higher in rank, acting unusual. He would check behind him and in front of him, and dodged into rooms and alcoves whenever a guard might pass by. Tristan, unwilling to challenge the man, would follow. He trailed the man for quite some time, into the catacombs, until he encountered his target and another man talking with one another, regarding some shipment of a kind. Though he didn't know the topic, he could tell that what these two men spoke about was neither meant to be heard by others, nor permitted by law. Stepping out of his hiding space, he confronted them. They responded by attempting to bribe him, and when he refused, kill him. His murder was prevented by a well-timed arrival of a fourth man, who swiftly detained the two.
This man himself was the Duke's spymaster. Like Tristan, he had been trailing the nobleman. The man in question had been suspected for a while now. But when the spymaster had noticed the youth doing the same, he observed him, instead. Tristan was told he had natural talent, to which he disagreed, but when he was offered a position, he knew it would be poorly advised for him to refuse. He was taken on as a spy-in-training, and the rest is history.

[User]
Ser Giles clasped his hands together as the introductions finished. "Well, we certainly have a diverse group here, eh?" He said, half to himself. A Grandmaster of the Knights Templar, a court mage, two mercenary-looking types, a nobleman and a noblewoman's lady. Perhaps not the flower of Brittonian knighthood he had wanted, but he could see the strengths of such a party. He stifled a yawn and stood.

"Well, we'd best retire for the evening. Another long day awaits us tomorrow — we must cross the Loire in the morning, and I hope to make the village of Brevis by midday. The mayor there is supposedly sympathetic to our cause, and may restock our provisions." Ser Giles said, and with that turned and strode into the night, leaving his new companions to sort themselves out.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The morning brought with it a beautiful day, with clear skies and bright sunlight. Ser Giles, despite his early retirement, had slept poorly; thus he confronted the idyllic scenery with a sour mood. He struggled to maintain a cheerful front, but everything from his horse to the fit of his armor seemed to bother him.

The Loire river was unsurprisingly flooded, but not so much that they were unable to find a passable ford a short trip further downstream. They were still forced to dismount in order to lead their unwilling mounts across, and it was a slow, unpleasant journey across the river. The water was freezing, and upon arriving at the opposite bank, Ser Giles found that he had not secured his bedroll properly and that it was soaked through. Needless to say, his mood did not improve at the revelation.

It was not long before they were riding through deep forest, and the eastern road was a double cart track with the trees sometimes arched right over the road. However, the old forest was open, the great boles of the trunks sixty feet apart or more with little enough underbrush that they could ride two or three wide. The road was damp but firm, except in the deeper ruts where puddles of stagnant rainwater and mud still lingered. The native flora seemed washed-out from the heavy rainfall of the past few days, though hints of its true vibrant nature peeked out in places. The woods were so deep that it was difficult to gauge the passage of time, and Ser Giles had little idea how far they'd traveled on the narrow track.

Ser Giles gradually grew more tense; his shoulders became hunched, his eyes narrowed. The forest, surely once a peaceful and soothing sight, now appeared all at once menacing. The sharp angles of shadows seemed to reveal a malevolent aspect to the dense trees and vegetation, and Ser Giles grew concerned, his imagination placing a brigand in every shadow, a monster in every bush. Phantasmal creatures seemed to dart in and out of his vision, and twice he shouted certain they were under attack, only for it to be revealed that there was nothing there at all. Still, the visions persisted, and several times he swore he heard voices. This is all wrong, Ser Giles thought. Have I been bewitched?

Eventually it grew too much. With a cry he drew his longsword and slammed his visor down. "Gods damn it, show yourselves!" He roared, turning wildly in his seat.

The forest was quiet, and still.

Ser Giles felt a fool. He cursed, and went to sheathe his sword before belatedly noticing that he was very much alone. He turned and looked around him, and saw nothing and no one. His companions were gone. Ser Giles swallowed hard. How did he become separated?

"Alfred? Hugo?" He called out.

Instead of their voices, inhuman roars answered, and his spine went cold. Trolls.

[Assistant]
Alfred cursed in Welsh, the thread of ice snaking up his spine quelled only by the heat of his anger at having been deceived so easily - the Annwn, magic, the paranormal, it was his domain, his area of expertise, it was what he did for crying out loud! But then here he was, one moment having been watching Ser Giles grow more frustrated by the second, the next contemplating the effect of emotion on the ebb and flow of mana, and then alone in the cold of the woods. He had known something was wrong, but somehow he'd not had the initiative to act upon that knowledge, nor had he seen more specifically the nature of the wrongness.

He drew his sword. Nothing that affects the perception of an entire party like this could possibly have anything good in mind, so it was best to be ready for it.

In the distance, he quite possibly heard shouting - from which direction was hard to tell, who, as well. It sounded like a man. Alfred may have heard his own name being called, it was hard to be sure - the forest was a woolen blanket over his senses. What wasn't so hard to hear, however, was the sounds the followed - the unmistakable roaring of trolls. Instantly, the thread of ice won the battle, and Alfred felt chills dominate his nerves as he reflexively reached into a pocket and brought out a pair of iron cubes - reagents, a temporary source of power and augmentative factor for certain spells. Finite in nature - at least when they were as processed as these were - and limited in their ability to truly help, but when you're dealing with trolls you need just about everything you can get.

The cold iron in one hand, the grip of his sword in the other, he scanned the woods around himself looking for threats, or friends, or figures, or anything else obvious.

And then he closed his eyes, and felt the embrace of the Annwn rise about himself - sight, but not as most know it. What would he see of the woods when looking like this?

[User]
Tristan awoke, cold and sore, but made no complaints. This was something he'd have to get used to, without any doubt. The bed chambers and banquets that he was accustomed to were already far behind, and there was no backing out, either. If he wanted to keep his head, at least. Not that he would ever seriously consider it. The Duke, from what Tristan knew of him, was a good man.

He was shaken from his thoughts as the rest of his party mounted their horses and got ready to set off. He did the same.

---

Most of the morning's journey was spent putting landmarks of their journey to mind. A stone shaped like a wolf here, a tree that twisted at an impossible angle there; it was mostly just to pass the time, given he wasn't in the mood for conversation. He was mostly thinking. His eye fell on the back of Aurélie - she thought him a burden, no doubt. Did any of them even know who he was? What his reasons for being here were? Or did they just think he was some simpering nobleman, full of ego?

Well, they weren't wrong. He had no experience with this kind of work. He was confident he could pull his weight but had nothing to back his words up. In the end, it came down to-

What was that?

Tristan made his horse come to a halt. He focused on the trees, on the canopy, on everything... he couldn't hear anything.

He couldn't hear anything.

He turned on his horse to report it to his companions - but they were gone. Where had they gotten to?! They were just here!

"Hello?! Ser Giles?! Anyone?!"

A twig snapped, and his heart jumped out of his chest. He looked back to the forest. Not even ten paces away, he saw a large, scarred brown bear. His eyes locked with its own. They weren't a normal bear's eyes. And a normal bear wouldn't be standing so completely still near a human. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

Being as careful as he could to not look away, he subtly reached for his crossbow and started pulling back the string. But as he fit a bolt to the flight groove, he saw something else in the corner of his eye. His head snapped to face the second bear - and he knew he'd made a mistake. The first bear let out a roar, and his horse spooked. Twisted in the saddle as he was, Tristan was unable to maintain his seating. He tumbled to the ground, and though he got back to his feet quickly enough, the mare was long gone.

He turned to face the bears. Though solitary creatures, these two seemed to have no issue sharing a meal as they snarled and grunted, slowly making their way towards him. Looking between them, Tristan realised that his situation was dire. His sword was still tied to his horse, as was his quiver of bolts. Leaving him with just the crossbow and a singular bolt.

"Damn it all to Hell." he murmured.

He could take down one, but the other would surely get him in the seconds that it took for him to reload the bolt. And that was if he landed a killing shot at all. His options were limited. And he hated that he'd gotten into this situation. But there was nothing for it.

He twisted on his heels and ran.


[System]
Age: 15
Gender: Male
Race: Elf
Class: Monk (Level 0)

What you want to be when you grow up?
Jatan aspires to be a master monk and to one day run his own monastery. He believes it is his duty to set others on a path to spiritual enlightenment, as his master did for him.

Who is your mentor?
When Jatan mysteriously arrived as a baby in Loudwater, his parents could not be found. Lacking a home, the orphan was taken in by the head monk at the local monastery: Edgar Blackheart. Edgar became a mentor and spiritual guide for Jatan. He has earned Jatan's unwavering admiration and loyalty, and Jatan hopes to become a head monk himself one day.

Brief Biography:
Little is known about Jatan's parents. The elven boy was left abandoned on the streets of Loudwater late one night. The local monastery that Jatan, like many orphans, was taken to quickly became his home. Although he is an elf, he adapted quickly to many of the human rituals he encountered. Particularly fascinated by the monastery's patron deity, Torm, Jatan delved into religious and spiritual studies. He strives to promote justice and protect the weak, as any true servant of Torm would. In addition to religious studies, Jatan was also taught basic martial arts. Early morning runs with the other boys, solitary prayer, tumbling and combat practice, and meditation became normalized parts of his daily routine. As an elf, Jatan often felt at odds with the other boys, all of whom were human. Although he was never picked on outright, he would rarely be invited to free hour activities, so he spent a lot of time to himself. Most of this time was used to read poetry, which Jatan views as an avenue through which he can become closer to Torm. Though he will never publicly admit it, Jatan longs to befriend other elves, find his parents, and reconnect to that lost part of his heritage.

Recently, Jatan fled the monastery and has taken to hiding in Loudwater. The forced religion hit the monastery even harder than the rest of the town. Few monks agreed to give up their faith. Locals stormed the monastery, dragging Edgar out and publicly executing him. Edgar became the first of several such executions. Knowing in his heart that he must do what he can to resist this tyranny, Jatan has holed up in a shady part of town where he can continue his worship of Torm in secret and bide his time until an opportunity for justice arises.

What person(s) of interest do you know where you are from? Who all do you have a relationship with?:
Jatan knew his mentor, Edgar, (now deceased). He knows many of the other boys and leaders of the monastery, though he was never particularly close to anyone except Edgar. Moreover, many of the monks have dispersed after Edgar's execution, and Jatan has no way to find them.

Equipment:
 - A backpack
 - Small Hunting Knife
 - Spare Robes
 - A canteen
 - Standard Peasant Garb
 - A quarterstaff he took from the monastery before he left (Jatan left his few silver pieces behind to cover the expense, of course).
 - A small book of poetry by famous Elvish poet Arphenion

Class Skills:
 - Basic meditation
 - Basic unarmed combat training
 - Basic tumbling
 - Basic quarterstaff training
 - Dodge: small chance to avoid basic attacks that are seen beforehand
 - Potion Use: Some familiarity with holy potions, can slightly enhance their effect

Life Skills:
 - Literate in common (not Elven, as he was orphaned and never learned the language or cultural practices of the Elves)
 - Basic knowledge of poetry
 - Religious knowledge about Torm

Clues:
Realizes that the townsfolk are controlled by some type of magic.

Was told by the monks at his monastery that "Even Gods have enemies."

[User]
"I have to know more, I think there's something important in what is happening here."

The words rang in the air. The short girl hadn't even spoken particularly loudly. But to Jatan, she may as well have been shouting at the top of her lungs. He had been watching her ever since he ducked by on his way to the hanging. This was his moment, and he intended to take it. He had to. For Edgar, for all the other victims. For Torm.

Weaving through the crowd with practiced ease, he slipped up behind the girl. It seemed she was dismissing her male companion.*Make these words count*, Jatan told himself as he waited to catch the girl alone.*A lot depends on them.*

A man dangled from the rope. Like a mouse held aloft by its tail as the grinning cat plays with its desperate victim, this man writhed helplessly in the air. Squirming. Gasping. Kicking. And then, nothing.

*Make these words count.*

A hand slips from his pocket.

*Make these words count.*

Fingers uncurl gently over the girl's shoulder to alert her to his presence.

*Make these words count.*

Leaning in. Closer. Closer.

*Make these words count.*

Barely more than a whisper.

*MAKE THESE WORDS COUNT!*

"If you want answers, follow me."

Cutting left, out of the crowd, he moved quickly, but not too quickly, towards the slum.

[Assistant]
"I didn't mean we should leave, I meant we need to meet back up with Agurious before deciding any-" Aiden cut himself off when he saw Jatan move behind Brisa and reach up to her. Aiden drew back a fist and was about to deck the guy when something he said stopped him.

**"If you want answers, follow me."**

Shocked, Aiden slowly lowered his fist as the boy scuttled away. He looked down at Brisa, "I'll follow you." he said, "but we must make haste."

[User]
Brisa was as startled as Aiden was. The elf boy had popped out of the crowd without her noticing, then again she hadn't been looking at the kids in the crowd. That was stupid of her. She wanted to smack herself but she didn't. That was the obvious solution, find a local kid and ask them what was going on. They would know, be less afraid to talk to her, and she would be less nervous about talking to them.

"Come on Aiden" she whispered. "Lets go, better than trying to talk to the priestess," which had been her plan if she couldn't get an adult to talk to them. She didn't wait, just tucked her shoulder bag closer to her, and tried to follow Jatan as best she could. The kid was fast, and he was able to weave through the people with an ease she envied. Of course he knew where he was going, she only knew she had to follow him.

She hooked a hand around Aiden's arm, fearing they would get seperated. She had already lost Argurios, well not lost him but they were separated and she didn't want to be alone. Not really. For all her attempted bravado she was afraid. This was much easier.

"Hey" she said softly when she finally caught up to the kid "my friend is...shopping...right now." She hoped Argurios was being careful. With everyone in the town square it would be a good time to...acquire some things they might need. She didn't approve of stealing, but in some cases it was unavoidable and they really needed supplies to go onward. "I'm supposed to meet him and I don't want him to worry. Can we, I don't know, talk near the merchant row so we can watch for him? Is it safe?"

***

As the crowd thinned the priestess returned to*her*shrine and her assistants returned to theirs. For such a small town there were a dozen shrines to Eshowdow, and now, with this demonstration, they would take the time to convert and erect a few more. Too much unrest in the town, the god was not pleased.

The enforcers, supposedly bound to the priestess, walked the streets herding the locals back to their jobs and whatever they were doing before the gong sounded. Of course they had another use, a use known only to them and their god. Their presence kept the town in line, they enforce the order, and when the time came they would either convert, or "handle" anyone who needed it. For now though, they marched through the town keeping "order." Looking for anyone who might be causing trouble or breaking the law. Hangings were always a good tool to help keep order, they loved an excuse to arrange one.

[Assistant]
After the group split up, Argurios went towards, where he thought would be, a market place. After a few minutes Argurios managed to get through the crowd. Once out of the mass of people, he noticed that most shops and stalls have been closed. Even the one shop which seemed to be in a size of his farm had the sign "closed" on it. 'What is going on here? All the shops are closed in the middle of a day. This is preposterous.' Argurios whispered to himself. "Depends. If you're a stranger to this town then your view is understandable. But if you would stay in this town, for… Let's say two weeks. You would see thing differently."
Argurios didn't expect an answer to his question; neither did he notice anyone else around him. Startled he turned towards where the voice came. At first he saw nothing. Only a dark, damp street filled with trash and some used up material. Then he noticed a pile of trash that had a shape of a cone. On it laid an old leather hat. "Good eye, I must say" Said the trash and out of it came an old grey man. His size was far too big to fit into the small trash. Amazed Argurios looked at the man then at the trash, but the trash was gone. "It's just a simple trick my boy. No need to fry your brains over it. Anyhow, my name is Willang and you are?" For a moment Argurios just stood there, blinking. He never saw someone do that before. And for his entire life, he believed that only a smaller item could be put inside a bigger one, and not the other way around. Grey man nudged Argurios, bringing him back to reality. "Oh right, um…. My name is Argurios. Pleased to meet you. " Argurios finally managed to introduce himself. He shaked the man's hand and bowed a little.
"If you know so much about this town, would you be kind enough to show me, just where I can buy supplies?" Though Argurios didn't know the grey man, he sensed him to be a good natured man. He also hoped that, since he has no idea how thing go in this town, the old man would be willing to show him around. "Yes I will. But be prepared to run or fight. This town is not what it seems. Come, I can see you are a curios man. I will answer your question as we walk. And I would advise you to keep those beast stalkers senses at their peak." The grey man said and began walking towards the only shop that would be open at the time. Argurios followed him and, as suggested, kept his senses on their peak. "Sir what did you mean by Beast stalker?" Asked Argurios. He never heard of such a phrase before neither did he know its meaning. "I'm amazed you don't know about it, but I will explain that later. First I must tell you about this town. You see…." The grey man began explaining the history and the strange events taking place in the city. Argurios listened intensely at first, but after some time he listened partly. Most of his energy went to reading his surroundings.

As he walked among the crowd signalling them to go back to their everyday duties, he felt pride and power swell in him. Before everyone laugh at him now he was a man of statue. "Raglor, what are you doing, come back to the farm." Dreknor turned and found an old man speaking to him. Though the man seemed familiar to him he couldn't remember from where he would know him. Not knowing the man troubled him. And so Dreknor fast walked in the opposite direction of the speaking man. After turning behind a corner, he saw a group of children hurry away from the hangings. One seemed familiar, but the other two didn't. "We must make sure that the outsiders do not interfere with our plans. And so try to prevent any kind of socializing between the outsiders and the towns' folk." These words hit Dreknor as he thought about it. For him this was clearly a violation to the rules. Draknor looked around to aks another enforcer for help, but he was alone. And so, alone he rushed after the kids. The joy of capturing the offenders, already blooming in his heart.

[User]
Aiden held on tight, not wanting to lose Brisa in the crowd. But he couldn't help as if they were being watched. Not just by the simply townsfolk, but something that had a bit more...*interest*in where they may be heading. He quickly glanced back as he was running and saw some boy tailing them. After a little longer he checked again and he was still chasing them. "Either this kid has friends following us, or we got trouble following us. Both situations can't be good."

He was holding onto Brisa's hand with his left, and he kept his hand on the club at hid belt as he ran.

[Assistant]
"My friend is...shopping... right now. I'm supposed to meet him and I don't want him to worry. Can we, I don't know, talk near the merchant row so we can watch for him? Is it safe?"

It would be riskier to speak out in public. That much was certain. Still, Jatan knew that this may be his only chance to talk to the pair. He didn't want to scare off his only potential allies. "I think I know where your friend may be headed. Most of the shops are closed during the middle of the day, but there's one in particular that's still open." Gesturing forward with his hand, Jatan slowed his pace to walk beside them.

He took the moment to really study the two. An odd pair to say the least. The girl was short, and had a bit of a boyish appearance. She had to be pretty tough to be traveling on her own at her age. The boy towered above her, his eyes darting to and fro, and his hand gripping his club.*His hand gripping his club? Calm down, calm down, he's probably just nervous.*

Trying to ease the tension, Jatan flashed the pair an awkward smile. "You must not be from around here. I'm Jatan, by the way."