[System]
Age: 17
Gender: Male
Appearance: The prettiest boy.
Simply put, Yuuga is really, really, ridiculously good looking. Equipped with a natural height and a flawless skincare regime, the 183cm tall boy is quite the dazzling sight to behold when he strolls down the hallways. His naturally black hair has been grown to a length slightly above his shoulders. (If anyone were to watch him for an extended period of time, they'd notice that he seems to swish it around super frequently for a dude.) He occasionally ties it into a low ponytail, for kyudo practice mostly. Alternates between glasses and contacts, depending on what he's doing and what look he's trying to pull off. Every morning his uniform is meticulously arranged to look casual yet classy, the top two buttons of his shirt left open and his tie in a loose knot below his collar. His sleeves are left unrolled though. He'd rather not tread that line between looking casual and looking like a delinquent. (He has a reputation to uphold, after all.) Yuuga sometimes wears a light, woollen jumper over his school shirt.
Personality:
Years of active socialization has honed Yuuga's amiability to a sharp and shining point. He's laid-back, that's for sure. Charming too. Classmates will find that he's a boy who smiles a lot more easily than others ("No one likes a sadsack, right?"), more willing to help with small favors, and all around just a swell guy. He's likable, to the point where it's kinda eerie sometimes.

It's not an uncommon thing to find that Yuuga is a bit… too much at times. People who aren't swept away by his charm view him as a narcissistic try-hard, some kind of faker behind that dashing veneer. The try-hard part's not entirely untrue. In the name of preserving his reputation, Yuuga will more often than not go out of his way to do the more undesirable tasks people push onto him. He wouldn't hurt anyone though, no way. Small tasks, like staying behind to help with festival preparations or filling in for the soccer club. Things like that, he can do. If you have an annoying chore to do and subtly mention how good it'd make him look, Yuuga will dive into that work with the grace of a swan. In other words, play it right and he'll be a total pushover.

The narcissist part is far from the truth though. Sure, he's petty and image absorbed. Sure, he gives his hair a touch up whenever he passes a reflective surface. But Yuuga doesn't think that highly of himself. He knows his faults, knows that all his popularity came from excessive amounts of behind the scenes work. He knows that unlike the natural extroverts and good-lookers in his clique, he needs to work hard to maintain his status. Because in high school, in this world of all-encompassing social media, reputation is everything. Average losers who don't conceal their mediocrity behind smiles and sociable personalities fall behind. That can't happen. Yuuga won't let that happen.
Skills:
Extensive knowledge of skincare products and routines. Barely above average grades and below average athletic ability, much to his chagrin. Godlike selfie game. Quite detail oriented. Proficient in kyudo, having done it since middle school, though his skills are nothing awe-inspiring. Fairly good at household chores such as laundry and cooking.
Equipment:
Smartphone, usually in his pants pocket. Apart from the standard school supplies, his schoolbag contains his glasses case with cleaning cloth, lip balm, comb, and selfie stick.
Soul Arts:
Grand Reversal: His Soul Art is inserted into the base of his neck, just above the sternum. Yuuga gains the ability to control or negate friction within a 10 meter radius. Applications of this ability can include making it easier to climb walls or rock faces, sending charging enemies slipping past, and making a dynamic and flashy entrance with Yuuga gracefully sliding into the scene.
Brief Backstory:
Yuuga was born to an infuriatingly average family, an only child with a stay-at-home mother and a salary-man father. Elementary school was… fine. He went through the usual motions, making a reasonable number of friends, trying out hobbies, thinking about girls. Nothing exceptional, nothing terrible. Life was a stagnant, horizontal line on a plane. Nothing ever stood out. He wouldn't have been able to accept it if he never became more than what he was destined to always be, if the rest of his life was a death sentence of relentless mediocrity. So he rewrote himself.

A look in the mirror told him that he was pretty alright-looking. With some hard work he could turn it, himself, into something spectacular. He started grooming himself, taking care of his diet and face. He joined the kyudo club. He started talking more, laughing to jokes that weren't all that funny but made the others feel like laughing was the right thing to do. And it worked. People, girls even, started noticing him. Eating lunch with him. Inviting him to group chats and karaoke hangouts. It was everything he'd dreamed. So he continued the hard work.

By the time high school rolled around, Yuuga had successfully cemented his place in the popular cliques. Keeping up with social media was the only sensible thing to do in his position so joining Strange Gospel was a given. Of course, he'd dropped it once all that creepy stuff started happening. But with the disappearances connected to that cursed app happening around him, Yuuga can't help be feel spooked. Already, he'd heard news of distant friends of friends going missing. Would he or someone he knew be next?

[User]
HOSHITANI YUUGA

Yuuga froze at the sudden announcement, dropping the last of the arrows into storage. This was… uh… What?

He flipped through his mental catalogue of the students of Yamamura High, hastily trying to identify the girl addressing him. Chiyu Shoukei. Pink hair. Second year. Treasurer, surprisingly. Now this was an interesting case.

Cute. Diligent. But notably unpopular. These were just things he'd heard through the grapevine. All three qualities seemed completely justified from the bluntness she'd just shoved in the faces of everyone in hearing distance. It was the last point that made Yuuga jot a mental note to avoid spending too much time with the Treasurer. Reputation, both good and bad, had a habit of spreading quickly.

The girl's sudden interruption had roused a sudden wave of whispers from the club members. They'd heard her budget cut announcement too, huh. Not ideal.

The long-haired boy glanced around for the club president. The guy was currently indisposed, having gone with the advisor to discuss tournament details. Guess Yuuga had to cover as the face of the club. Geez, if he'd known that having his arrow-nocking image emblazoned on this year's recruitment papers would bring so much trouble he never would have agreed to it. At least club membership had gone up by at least 150%.

All eyes were on him. It was up to him to protect the club's prosperity. Yuuga felt his back stiffen reflexively at the realisation. Damn. He didn't even know how to handle club finances. He could've just told the girl to wait until President came back, or just pointed her towards the staff room. Or…

He could make this look good.

"Woah, hey!" the tall boy raised his hands in surrender, flashing an awkward but still sparkling smile. Those sorts of showy moves usually eased troubling situations. All he needed to do was stall until President returned. And girls generally did whatever they could to spend more time with Yuuga. This should be easy!

"Can't we discuss this a little before any hasty decisions are made? What brought this on anyway?"

[Assistant]
"Yeah, don't worry, I shouldn't be too long," Keita responded in turn, pausing for a moment as his companion commented that she'd end up discussing his 'slacking' with his family instead. His pace slowed for a moment before the programmer shook his head and looked at the young woman beside him with a look of incredulity.

"...Really. My slacking? I don't think you can call placing in the top 5 rankings on every exam we've taken 'slacking', Motoyama-san. Though it may be the start of the school year, I'm still able to keep up with you, y'know. Well, 'cept for anything athletic, but that'd cut into time I have set aside elsewhere. Even so, catching a few z's during break isn't on the level of 'slacking', is it?" he continued on, a plastic basket whisked off its place on the stack and now hanging on the crook of his arm, before the young man walked over to the produce section to scan over what they had of... Reasonable quality.

"Regardless, thanks for hearing me out, though. My dad's been getting waaaay too many grey hairs over this mess, and I fear I might follow suit. Most stressful weeks of my life, I tell you what," he remarked, picking up a potato and looking it over from multiple angles before chucking it (along with a few others) into a plastic bag. "Hm... Today's feeling like a curry day, from the looks of things... Meat's next on the list, I guess... Ah, goddamn, can't decide. Yo, whaddya think is a good fit for curry in April? Pork, chicken or beef?"

The question itself seemed to come out of nowhere, but as programmers were, lazy was lazy. If someone else could make the choice for him, then it'd end up saving him some time staring at the choices until he finally gave up.

Deciding on food was easy, but when it came to choices within choices, well... He wasn't so quick on the draw there.

[User]
Maiko made a faux pouting face in response to Hikaru's statement. "Oh well. I guess I'll just have to go and get kidnapped on my own then." She had already made up her mind that it didn't matter much either way. She also wasn't about to just stop living her life because she might get nabbed at any time. While she might not need the money, she kind of enjoyed her work, and when it came to a mysterious force that could seemingly kidnap you from anywhere, it's not like it mattered if she biked around the city or hid away in the bowels of her house.

"Speeeeeeaking of which, I do kinda sorta need to get back to work. The people still need their newspapers. Heck, Strange Gospel is what half of the newspapers are all about..." It was almost like Strange Gospel was finding a way to permeate into every aspect of her life, sometimes. "Oh, and could you write me a note or something to mention this? If I'm late finishing up, I'm going to need to prove this happened so I don't seem like I just stood around for a while." However, Maiko did think she could still feasibly finish on time in spite of this delay. It was better to have an excuse on hand just in case though. They were definitely going to notice that she didn't finish at the same time she usually did.

[Assistant]
CHIYU SHOUKEI

We already discussed this for hours.

It wasn't that she didn't understand where the upperclassman was coming from, but he definitely wasn't the first person to protest to her about the Student Council's decisions. Although yeah they were at least protesting to the right person, given that she did give opinions on where and how to balance the budget but the President was still the one who made all the final decisions, and that decision (after all the discussions back in the meeting room) was that the Archery Club was going to have to deal with having less cash around for the time being.

"Sorry senpai," she replied apologetically, a note of formality dripping into her cadence as she gave the archer a short bow. The one where she was bowing, not the weapon that the guy probably already had. She needed to pull back a bit; that had been way too direct and casual. But damn this was getting awkward.

She really should've thought things out more instead of being stuck bowing to Hoshitani in front of his entire club. All the attention being put on her was really, really not what she was down the alley for, or something like that. She had just wanted to talk a bit about the budget then leave and find the next guy so she could get home before it got too late.

Goodbye, pillow-chan. I'll see you tomorrow night instead.

"The President decided that you didn't need as many funds," Shoukei continued, looking back up. She was beginning to feel very aware of all the gazes in her direction. She needed to find a distraction. Like that funny smile on Hoshitani's face. "All the clubs are undergoing budget rebalances, not just Archery."

The administration was pretty intent on funnelling more money into the Kendo club. Every other club she'd talked to today were victims of the intense desire to throw more money at their most successful sports ... physical activity? She didn't know if kendo was actually a sport. But yeah, she had been telling a lot of people about budget cuts today, and there were still a few more places on the list.

She really wanted to go home, but this was her responsibility.

[User]
"Oh really?" Yuuga raised an eyebrow but cringed when Chiyu bowed. This girl really didn't know how to sugar-coat, huh.

This was not the sort of response he wanted with so many people watching. Were his club members going to think of him as some kind of tyrant? Or was he gonna come off as more of a charismatic diplomat type? He guessed that it depended on what kind of stance he was taking, whatever the mood was. And right now the mood was getting really, awkwardly formal. Yuuga laughed nervously in response. He needed to defuse quickly.

"All the clubs, huh? Even those guys on the Kendo team?"

Damn, was that too on the nose? Too cynical? He must've sounded like a salty bastard just then. Quickly now, before the tide of conversation became too unfavourable for the both of them.

"I mean… it's just that…" More effort into his smile. Don't let the Treasurer know that he had no idea what he was doing. Yuuga scratched his head, recalling President's rant last week about the other 'glory-hogging sport hounds' and their budget bonuses, "The Kendo Club's the school's clear favourite. Nothing wrong with that. But we've got more than twice as many recruits than last year. You'll have to ask Prez for more details but personally I don't know how we're gonna handle these many members with a cut budget. Are you sure there's no way to work around us?"

Was that good enough? No, one more push should do it.

"And this is just between us," Yuuga said lowly, knowing full well that his club members were listening in, "But we've got a lotta first years still showing up. Wayy more than we can handle with a cut budget. Plus, kyudo's been a staple in the school community for ages! A lotta people could get affected here."

His strategically off-hand remark triggered whispers of agreement from the older club members, garnering some small satisfaction in him. Jackpot. Even if he couldn't negotiate their budget back, it'd still look like he tried.


[System]
Age: 211, to his best estimate
Height: 6'2"
Weight: 192 lbs
Race: Vampire
Birthplace: England, circa 1667 (Elizabethan era)
Short Bio: Born in the Elizabethan era and surviving into the Victorian, Vail has seen the rise and fall of two centuries' worth of dynasties—not just human, but supernatural as well. As a member of the Hygrace family, he was raised in the wealth and prestige of the most powerful vampire clan in London. His uncle, Lord Reginald Hygrace, was a respected leader, known across the nation for offering protection to any vampires who needed sanctuary from The Order of the Saints: an influential group of men and women who tracked down and killed the "demons" for a living.

For nearly a century, Reginald's efforts kept both his family and the rest of the vampires safe. However, around the year 1750, he made the mistake of taking in a man named Lord Elias Wynter. At a glance, Elias seemed like just another refugee seeking sanctuary with the Hygrace family, but in truth, he sought to overthrow the ruling dynasty completely.

Unbeknownst to the Hygraces, the Wynters had been plotting for quite a while to take over and change the way that vampires lived in England altogether. They believed that as "superior beings," they should fight back against humans instead of hiding from them in fear. They saw the Hygraces were weak and cowardly, unfit to lead their kind, and so started a rebellion.

When he commenced his attack, Elias managed to kill Reginald, but his attempt to finish off the rest of the oldest generation was cut short by his victim's younger brother—Vail's father—Peter, who went on to take over as the leader of the Hygrace clan in his sibling's stead. Unfortunately, the Wynter family refused to give up after just one defeat and has continued to fight for power against the ruling dynasty ever since.

For Vail, the following century of his life was spent predominantly in hiding. As the son of the most powerful vampire in England, he had to look out not only for members of the Saints but the Wynters as well. With such a large target on his back, he learned how to fight and wield a gun in order to protect himself. Both skills have saved his life since.

Of course, he can't spend all his time in seclusion without going stir crazy, so he finds time to attend parties and other large gatherings put on by other aristocrats in London to get out of the Hygrace manor on occasion.

[User]
It may have been not very much time to plan the murder of Lord Spencer, but time was of the essence. The longer they waited, the riskier it was for him to find out and thwart their plan. She felt somewhat guilty at having to resort to using Vail to dispatch her enemy. However, she could not do it alone and she was rewarding him her entire lifetime of blood as recompense. As Vail explained to her to wrap the silver in cloth, she nodded at his request. "Do not worry, I will ensure you can handle the merchandise. Just make sure to wear gloves." She assured him confidently. "I know how…disgusted you are by it." She almost chuckled thinking back to how she teased him with the box of ammo on their walk home last time. How he jumped, he couldn't get far enough away, like a phobia. Seeing an all-powerful vampire succumb to something as simple as a piece of metal.

She listened to his proposal of dispatching the Lord Spencer. Both were plausible. Yet her shot was not accurate enough with a pistol. "I have only just began training with a pistol. I have a much better shot with a bow and arrow or crossbow with silver bolts. But those items are harder to conceal on my persons." She would have to be ready to point blank shoot Spencer in the heart should Vail's shot miss, however. "I will be the one to distract Spencer long enough for you to pull the trigger, I'm not confident with the gun yet, I could easily harm you in the process. But I shall be prepared to shoot nonetheless." She turned on her heel to leave. "One more thing though, Lord Hygrace….should he have to feed on me, I will let him, try not to get jealous….as it will cloud your judgement…" She instructed the Lord firmly. She didn't want anything to compromise her mission.

Although she wondered if he would only get jealous if another vampire fed on her blood when it was promised to him. He certainly didn't like that other vampire trying to feed on her. She had an inkling that he already had a possessive nature toward her that came with addiction. She was his drug and he wanted exclusive access….yet he did not stipulate that others could not have her blood. Or in other ways. Would another vampire's touch ire Vail if Victoria reacted in that same pleasurable way that was not by his hand? She could be wonder…

"Until we next meet…" She bowed lightly before departing from the summer house with hand firmly on her wound as she walked out of the door.

[Assistant]
When Victoria told him to wear gloves, Vail smiled amusedly. Of course he was going to protect his hands. How else would he pull the trigger? He just disliked the thought of getting closer to touching a silver gun than he had to. Any extra padding for the grip was welcomed and necessary in his opinion. He wished there was a way to get rid of the acrid stench of the metal as well, but alas, that was something he was probably just going to have to put up with until the deed was done.

As the Lady confirmed his suspicion that she was new to using weaponry like this, Vail nodded in mutual understanding that he would have to be the one to shoot Lord Spencer in the heart. It was a disturbing image, so he replaced it with a more pleasant one of Victoria's writhing body as he primed her skin for feasting. The echoes of her sounds of pleasure sent a lustful shiver down his spine. Getting to relive that for the next thirty years was well worth one night of brutality. He couldn't wait until she was only his for the rest of her mortal life.

As if she could read his mind, Victoria's next words made him waver. He hadn't realized his possessiveness had been so obvious to her, but then again, he'd never felt this way about anyone before. He didn't know how to hide the newfound attachment he had to her, and honestly, he wasn't sure if he even wanted to. It didn't make a difference if she knew he wanted her to be solely his prey. She had already agreed to it when she'd made the pact. There was no reason to pretend like he wasn't tied to her just as much as she was to him.

With that, he supposed she had a point when she warned him not to get jealous of Spencer if he fed on her. Just the thought of a Wynter sinking his fangs into her supple flesh make his blood boil. He didn't want any other vampire to lay so much as a finger on her, but he knew he would have to relinquish his hold to keep the Lord from becoming suspicious. If Spencer's attention was on draining the Lady of her essence, he wouldn't notice his rival's presence until it was too late either.

Perhaps it would feel better than he thought to send that silver bullet through the Wynter's heart.

"'Til then, My Lady," Vail returned her bow with one of his own before heading out of the lodge to return to his family's manor. It seemed he had some more planning to do.

[User]
The day after tomorrow, the Lady was out prowling the taverns once again that evening. She still needed to track Gerald down. She was actually in the hopes of trying to find anyone in The Order for that matter! Even the obnoxious one that hit her across the face, called her a vampire sympathiser and nearly shot Vail dead. It still bothered her that she didn't know his name, yet he seemed to know exactly who she was. The daughter of his colleague or rival perhaps within the organisation? It mattered not how, she needed to know what he knew. And why did he help her with the gun and silver bullets the other week?

Her wounds had scabbed over and there was no risk of blood leakage unless she moved her torso sharply and ripped the scabs off. She had no intention of fighting anyone, though she kept her weaponry on her persons at all times just in case. There were still human threats on these streets of Whitechapel, such as rapists and murderers. In just a few short years there would be one notorious serial killer on the prowl who would come to be known as Jack the Ripper.

Victoria sighed as she wondered the streets, suddenly she heard a rush behind her and then felt a heavy thwap on the back of her head. All went black…

---

Dawn - ahead of the Third Day's meet
Victoria awoken with a groan several hours after losing consciousness. She didn't know where she was or what had happened. Her head was clouded and it took her time to come around. When she did so, she found herself restrained, tied to a chair. She scoured the room and it was merely a basic room in a basement of an unknown house. No windows and barely lit with candle light. There was nothing in the room except for a bucket, another chair and a table that housed various…of what she could only describe as torturing tools. She gulped as she had been captured. But by who knows what?

After a time, falling in and out of consciousness, possibly suffering concussion, Victoria heard the door latch from the other side being opened. She lifted her head slowly, her long hair tied back as it usually was in her nightly outings, the long strands cascaded over her left shoulder. As the door opened, a man stepped through it. One she hadn't met before, but he was most certainly with The Order. As he stepped into what little light there was provided by a candle. She gasped. "..Gerald…?" She recognised him from the painting of him out of her father's journals. At least, the man she had been trying to track down, had tracked her down instead.

He pulled up another chair opposite to her and sat on it backwards, resting his arms on the top. He looked her over. "I don't know how Alex coped with you. You are a nightmare."

She looked back at him in shock. "Excuse me?!" She was overcome with slight anger in her eyes.

"Don't act all surprised Princess. I know what you've been getting up to with that…thing…" He couldn't even say the word vampire. "Allowed yourself to become a vampire's prey? You are suicidal!" He protested her actions as she stared at him. She suddenly panicked, her breathing became erratic. He knew. He knew about her pact with Vail. And now she was tied up in his custody. "Why am I restrained? Let me go!" She demanded.

Gerald stood up. "Trust me, this is for your own protection. I promised Al I would keep you safe." He didn't trust her to attempt an escape if she were unrestrained..

"If he knows I am missing, he will come looking for me." She warned him. Gerald grinned and unholstered his silver gun. "And I'll be waiting for him." He left her alone in the room and locked the door behind him.

[Assistant]
The next three days went by as well as Vail could have hoped. Peter still believed he had gone out to hunt during his last meeting with Victoria. It was a normal enough excuse, so he didn't have to suffer through any questioning outside of one inquiry about whether he had run into any Saints while he'd been out. It seemed the sudden rise in the Order's numbers lately had the head of the Hygraces spooked. Vail didn't share in his worries though. While other members of their family might have been more at risk, he was completely safe. As long as he had Victoria to use as his prey every third night, he wouldn't have to face the hunters again for a long time.

He was more concerned about being caught by someone in the manor.

When the time came for him to leave for the next rendezvous, Vail was especially cautious. After his father had nearly caught him sneaking out, he had learned that he needed to be more careful while he was still in the mansion. So, he prepared for the trip as quickly and quietly as he could, trying to minimize the sound of his footsteps on the floorboards so no one would hear him getting ready to leave.

As soon as he was dressed against the cold, he stepped over to the door, poking his head out to check if anyone was still awake. The halls were silent, and he couldn't see any lights on behind the other bedroom doors. It looked like the coast was clear.

Gingerly, Vail slipped out of his own room and closed the door behind him before he headed down the stairs. He'd put out all the lights, so his family would think he was sleeping if any of them woke up while he was gone. With any luck, they wouldn't bother checking inside to make sure.

Once he made it out of the manor, he relaxed a little more. The stroll to and from the Crest estate had become familiar to him by now, and it wasn't difficult to keep watch for members of the Order in the alleys he passed. He doubted anyone would confront him when he wasn't threatening anyone too. In his experience, Saints only attacked when they caught a vampire in the middle of preying on another human. Since his feedings happened in secret now, they wouldn't realize that he wasn't just an ordinary man exploring the city's night life.

As expected, he made it to the woods around the Crests' summer house without any trouble. However, as he grew closer to the lodge he realized something was off. He couldn't detect Victoria's scent anywhere. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously, slowing to a stop a few yards from the door. It was already past midnight. She should have been here by now.

Suddenly, her words from the other night rang inside his head. At the time, he had assumed she had offered to let him out of their contract for his sake, but maybe she had been trying to break it for hers. He glanced back over his shoulder. Did she decide to run? It was quite a taxing pact they had formed, so he wouldn't have been surprised if she was having second thoughts about continuing to uphold her end of the deal. Still, just because she was uncertain didn't mean he was going to let her run away.

If she wants to do this the hard way, we'll do it the hard way, Vail thought scathingly. He would just have to teach her there was no escaping a vampire whom had made her his target. No matter how far she had gotten, he would easily track her down and drink her blood by force if he had to—though, if he was honest, he would have preferred to avoid taking such measures. Unfortunately, it was too late to avoid that conflict now.

Turning away from the house, he lifted his nose to the air as he made his way back into the city, determined to have his due taste of Victoria's blood before the sun rose in the morning.


[System]
Appearance:

Class: Mercenary

Age: 21

Sex: Male

Weapon Rank: Sword Rank: D

Equipment: Bronze Sword, Vulnary x1

Skills:

Strong Riposte
When the enemy triggers the battle, damage +3.

Espirit de Corps
When supporting another unit, he increases their damage done, and decreases damage taken.

Plot subjective: Yes. Go crazy with it.

Personality: Bright and cheery, Guillame wears his clothes loose and his heart on his sleeve. Emotional and headstrong, he often acts before thinking, which gets him in trouble more often than not. He has a penchant for dance and reverie, and is always up for a spot of fun. A deeply supportive person, he cares for his comrades both on and off the battlefield, always willing to lend a hand when and wherever needed.

Biography: Guillame was born a peasant in the Rosanne countryside. The oldest of 4 children, he was used to taking charge and being authoritative even from a young age. When he wasn't working in the fields with his parents, he could be found play-fighting with his friends, or generally goofing off. Guillame still remembers his disaffection with the appointing of the Grand Cleric Vanessa: His father had explained to him that she had come to that position because she had found an stone of some sort. Guillame came to the conclusion that finding colorful rocks on the ground was no proper basis for a ecclesiastical hierarchy, and hasn't quite gotten over it yet. He has yet to make pilgrimage to the Grand Cathedral, and has no particular love for the church.

Still, he has something of a patriotic streak, and was more than willing to report when he was conscripted into the Rosannean army. Surprisingly, military life was a good fit for him, and he soon found his way through the bureaucratic ladder to his position of Aide-de-camp, where his dogged dedication to the rules of war and warfare gave him an ethical grounding in the otherwise dubious moral nature of war. With the rumors of a crusade making their way among the ranks, Guillame has felt less confidant in his standing in the Rosannean army, and has even considered desertion.

6 is the magic number.

[User]
Bern stood outside his tent, one of his cavaliers rode up and got off bowing. "My lord... We found another village in need of cleansing. It is to the south, three hours march. If we leave now we can take the village before night fall." The soldier said his head remained bowed.

Bern smiled. "Good work brother, Naga will reward your service. Drink and rest we will leave in an hour." He patted the man on the shoulder, nodding for the other riders to do the same. There mounts could also rest, they were camped at oasis where the horse could move easily and drink freely. Bern stepped up the center of the camp, a top a few boxes that held rice and other goods they carried. "The main army will leave with me in thirty minutes, the scouts report heretics to the south of us. We will teach them the error of there ways to save our children and all future generations pain that the Fell dragon has caused." He told them as the fighter and soldiers cheered, proud to serve the young Monk who would give such a great future.

Bern smiled and then stepped down, he prepared his travel bags. In the true style of a Monk he then began to walk, leading the band of holy warriors forward, marching them across the sands until they saw it. A large village probably three hundred people or so, it even had walls and a bell tower. Bern called for Genna, his archer. "Genna, be a dear and kill the watch man in that tower so our advance is not spotted." He smiled cruelly knowing that with no warning this would be a slaughter.

The young archer, she couldn't have been over eighteen nodded and pulled back her bow. The arrow flew swiftly and cleanly, striking the old man mind who was minding the bell. He collapsed to the floor, the arrow through his neck as he reach for the string trying to warn his sons, his granddaughter, all of them. He couldn't reach however and darkness soon took him.

With the alarm down a sand storm approaching he nodded. "All forces forward, use the storm as cover get up to the gates and knock them down!" He said throwing his arm forward as casting the wrath of his warriors upon them. With that they charged, Genna stayed at Bern's side. She was his bodyguard, loyal to the end no doubt Bern had rescued her of course she couldn't remember but everyone said he had saved her and thus she believed it. When the storm had passed the gates were broken, blood running into the streets.

Bern slowly walked into the town, brushing the sand from his white robes. "Bring all survivors to the square." He said, crying and the occasional scream was heard as about ten women, two men and three children were brought into the square. "The men first." Bern said as both were brought forth drawing forth his book. "Do you renounce Grima and accept Naga as your savior?" He asked them both, the first blood into eyes. The second had gotten free of bonds, producing a knife from his sleeve lunge up trying to stab at Bern. The Monk didn't even flinch when Genna shot an arrow threw the mans hand and in to the others mans neck. "Women next." Was all Bern said as he wiped the blood from his face.

"Surely you ladies wish to renounce Grima and join the Church." He said giving them a warm smile, as it would rub away the mass murder he was committing in their own homes. One woman cried, the other just stared defiantly. "Execute them away from the children." He said as then looked at the kids. "Release them, they can wander the desert perhaps Naga will save them. We won't kill more than we have to he said if some kind of saint. With that he turned Genna left to go help perform the executions. Yet when Bern turn his back a young girl gripped the book she had hidden and cast her dark magic at the Monk. It hurt for a moment yet it only surveyed to annoy him. "You little animal! I was going to let you live!"

The child shrunk back as scared, she didn't want to die... She just wanted him to pay for killing her mother and father. She hugged her brothers trying to shield them as the Monk prepared to cast. Then it happened a raven rushed down from the sky and took the spell meant for her. "What is this?"

A boy smiled. "Heya dead man!" He giggled as suddenly more and more dark mages teleported in, bandits began to jump the walls and attack his soldiers. "My names Sules, guess your the jerk whose been killing my people?" His smile didn't fade as if magically plastered on. "Do you want to know how it feels to be eaten alive by ravens... Cause I can do that." His voice sounded angry as he lifted his other hand, hundred of the feathered fiends circled over the town now. One of the priests and Genna rushed to his side, the priest prepared to teleport them as the swarm of bird parted and began to dive at random warriors. They teleported away abandoning the troops quickly as the three headed back towards the camp.

Meanwhile among the army they had left Vera had arrived. The queen of the bandits laughed as she positioned herself by the gates. "Slaughter them to the last boys! Make these Naga loving bastards pay for it all! No one raids Plegia and lives to speak of it!" She cut down two clerics who scream and tried to escape, Sules laughed as the dark mages weaved curse's and defiled their opponents with black magic. Vera and Sules, two of the most feared warriors in Plegia renowned for there lack of remorse and love of violence.

Bern cursed as they trudged back towards camp, he would have to rejoin the main force now. The one he had positioned near the border between Ylisse and Plegia. Damn those Grima worshiping mad men, they had cost him some of his best warriors in this battle. Still he had Genna and one healer left, perhaps he could tell the others that a traitor caused this failure. Cast blame on to another and then simply force them in to admitting so they might die in peace, a simple plan, though unoriginal, perhaps he could think of a new one.

[Assistant]
Chloetta went around the Church Camp tending to the wounded. "Wounded" made it seem a little bit less serious than it was as most of these men were able to fight through the pain for Bern and the Church of Naga overall. Some wounds though could not be most easily healed through magic and made them unable to fight.

Still, it was the desert and Plegia was not the most caring of places, with neither the landscape nor the natives. Regardless of Grima worship or not, the people of the country were not happy to have their citizens attack. If Chloetta could do anything more to stop the violence she would, but sadly there was little she had the ability to do.

"The main army will leave with me in thirty minutes, the scouts report heretics to the south of us. We will teach them the error of there ways to save our children and all future generations pain that the Fell dragon has caused." A voice called from the center of camp. A voice she was all but too familiar with at this point.

"So it's another slaughter, is it Bern?" The troubadour asked herself. If she were to say that to Bern himself. . . Well, she didn't want to think of that branch of fate. Still, she thought that she needed to stay behind to make sure the injured didn't try something stupid and told one of the soldiers to spread that she would stay back in the camp. As they left, she wondered just what horrible atrocities the soldiers would commit in the name of Naga.

---

Hours later and Chloetta had mostly finished all that she could do for her patients. For now, she just needed to keep a eye on them and sit back for a bit. The injured that were awake were thankful enough and praised Naga for her abilities. In their place, she'd have done the same but could only wonder why Naga continued to allow those that called themselves her servants to go about executing others for their beliefs. "With everything calm, perhaps now was a good time to check on Franz." Chloetta considered to herself before letting the conscious soldiers know what she was doing and to call if something happened. Some gave a smile and let her know they'd call if needed. The horse hadn't been fed much, so now was as good a time as any to make sure that happened. She placed out his food when she heard noises from one of the entrances to the camp.

"So the army returns." She muttered to herself and grabbed her staff, ready to heal the injured. To her surprise though, there was no army. Just a few people. Bern, the stubborn and malicious man he was, Genna, his archer, and a priest. So many things could have happened but she only needed to ask. "What happened? Though, I guess before that I should ask if any of you are injured." She showed her staff to them offering aid if they needed it.

[User]
 Really, of all the places to land, it had to be Plegia. It wasn't like that was the exact opposite of where he wanted to go. Not at all. When he left the army, he had done so to get away from that blasted crusade, not towards it. Of course, he hadn't really bothered to ask the Captain exactly where they were going. In fact, he hadn't asked him much of anything. He had just hopped the first boat across the ocean he could find.

 He hated the term 'stowaway'. He much preferred the term "Clandestine Passenger". Far less callous.

 Still, he couldn't change the past, so as soon as he was in Plegia, he made the decision to be out of Plegia. Easier said than done, of course, but people were happy to point him towards the border ("East!" seemed to be the general consensus). It had been some time since he had landed, but he had managed to find his way from village to village, stopping at night to rest. People were more than willing to accommodate him, which wasn't that surprising, really: Nobles were a varied sort, and one could be a saint while the other starts a 100-year war because some bint looked wrong at him. Folks, though, were always the same. They don't much care for who's king so long as they can live their lives away from the wrong end of a spear.

 That's why he couldn't bring himself to stay in the military any longer. He had joined to live a life of glory and wonder. Even when those dreams had worn off, he stayed for the camaraderie and prestige soldiering brought. But when news of a crusade spread, he knew he couldn't, in good conscience, stay. People believed things because that's all they've ever known. Besides, there wasn't ever really a question to Grima's existence, even if he did try to destroy the world.

 Not, of course, that he'd be willing to stay. Plegia was hot, and not in the "My, what a day out! Make sure to bring water before you go a-tilling!" sense, more of a "Stay inside, the sky itself is on fire". And the sand! It was course, dry, and it found itself into the most cumbersome of places. Part of him understood why the Plegians must've wanted to end the world; it had to be better than living here.

 He kicked the ground in frustration.

 The desert regarded him dryly.

 At the very least, he took some solace in the fact that he was, apparently, awfully close to Ylisse. The last place he had visited had told him that the border was only a few days away. He could stop at one of the smaller towns on the way, and be across the border in a day or two. Or, at least, that had been the plan.

 But even from a distance, he could something was off. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but the town as a whole just didn't seem right. Whether it was paranoia or providence, he elected to march ever towards the border, praying to whatever god was listening that he wouldn't catch ill-fortune on the way there.


[System]
* Age: 23
* Appearance:
Back Profile
* Gender: Male
* Personality: If one must be a merchant, one must be observant of their surroundings. To retain customers, you must have your best smile on at all times, even when they're rather vile creatures that spit poison. Finally, if one has resolved to become a merchant, one must focus on one thing. Money. Money rules the world and your life, so always focus on the profits. Cervantes embodies all these traits, from being observant, amicable, and greedy. However, those views stem from the need for stability and safety.
Outside of business, Cervantes is genuine and amicable while being a bit foul-mouthed. A free spirit who tries to enjoy life to its fullest. Cervantes enjoys social interaction and thinking of odd things. He's the type of person who would banter and have your back in your time of need. Though, in the end, he's also human. If a problem impacted his life, Cervantes would try to solve it in the quickest way possible.
* Abilities/Skills: Cervantes possesses a lack of magical aptitude or any physical talent. He makes up with his luck and collection. It may have been the game's settings, but when it comes to finding rare items, Cervantes possesses a high rate of finding them. A mixture of both knowledge and intuition, if there's an item that is needed, Cervantes could see it.
His other talents are also business-related. From his knowledge of the economy to what stores you should go to if you need a specific service.
Though the main thing Cervantes is known for is his intuition. As a tutorial NPC that only sticks around for the first half of the game, Cervantes serves as an indicator of which route the Heroine is heading. Cervantes has a sense in his mind that tells him how the story will turn out, a feeling, to be exact. It could be the future sight or a premonition from god; it is uncertain where this power lies, except that Cervantes has a feeling about how things will turn out. However, the Heroine is required to be nearby for him to activate it.
* History: Before Cervantes was Cervantes, Cervantes previous life was a worker at his family's restaurant. It wasn't much hard work between switching from serving customers to cooking the meals. It was quite dull and tedious work, a fact that Cervantes became well acquainted with every day. That's why he often loafed around by reading fantasy books or playing games.
When he came across 'Cross Heart Academy,' it was undoubtedly an exciting game. It was certainly an innovative, unique product compared to other visual novel games. If anything, he found it strange that they could fit so much content into the game, to begin with.
What did Cervantes's previous self do when he got the game? The answer might be odd but reasonable. Cervantes tried to speedrun the game in his free time. It was a very open game with various factors that determined future outcomes, meaning every playthrough had its unique experience.
Sadly, he would die early after going out drinking with friends. The events are still blurry to him as he is intoxicated.
When he came to be, he was the tutorial NPC shopkeeper. A fact that he knew well after spending quite a bit of time trying to grind out the NPC's prices and visiting him to check what route the Heroine was on. It was just him alone, in a shop, with nothing except his name that he found in the NPC's journal. Cervantes Quixote.
* Original Role and Background: To the majority of the players of Cross Heart Academy, the only name that Cervantes went by was 'nameless shopkeeper.' A tutorial NPC that also served as a shopkeeper gave the Heroine a rundown of the market. A charming character for sure, mainly when the shopkeeper sold valuable items or quest items that were hard to obtain. He also served as an indicator of what the route the Heroine was on, saying, "Hmmm, I have a feeling a war might be brewing soon. You should prepare yourself in the coming days," or, "I heard the Crown Prince was infatuated with someone as of late. You wouldn't know who that would be, would you?" Though when the second half of the game was reached, the shopkeeper would disappear. Nobody knows why, but several theories have come up. Perhaps an unfixable bug deleted the shopkeeper; maybe the creators forgot to add him in the second half of the game, or maybe the villainess was killed offscreen after finding out he was helping the Heroine. Nobody knows, and neither does Cervantes.
* Other:

[User]
Was that a maid, calling to her? But why? She didn't know any maids? Her family only had one, and this definitely wasn't her so-

Anne paused, staring in mute shock at the sight of the boy who had suddenly approached and hauled the maid to her feet.

There was no way she'd fail to recognize him. That was one of the capture targets, Reginald von Afah.

In other words, one of the people she wanted to interact with the least. There was no way she was going to approach the maid at all when he was around. It didn't matter what he was doing or saying, all that mattered is escaping from this situation as quickly as possible.

Turning on her heel and doing her best to vanish into the crowd, Anne was almost immediately encountered with the sight of another familiar but far less worrisome face.

Noctis Algretto was a boy, but he didn't have any flags. He was just a friend. She already knew him, in fact, and that made the fact he had just collapsed was an excellent excuse to get out of the courtyard and to somewhere less exposed as quickly as possible. Not to mention the fact that he'd just collapsed, someone had to help him!

"Ah, I... I should g-get you to the nurse's office!"

Escape as quickly as possible, make sure Noctis was okay. That was the plan in Anne's mind.

@Crusader Lord@PKMNB0Y

[Assistant]
Reginald von Afah
Once confronted by Reginald about her actions, the maid's face seemed to pale and her body seemed to shrink down in fear. The hasty apology that followed from her was followed by a simple wave from Reginald, though, as if to disregard the situation entirely. It was better to chastise lightly than to let someone lose their job (or possily more) over something like this.

But the matter regarding the maid was of less importance to him than the heroine in this case, and once he had seen the maid hastily flee the area, the duke's son turned around to see the heroine having run off somewhere else. Though he'd have liked to gauge what her personality was "actually" like, the possibility of her trying to raise some flags with him was not zero... Which itself would have been more annoying to manage than he would have liked.

No matter, then; he'd have the next few years to see what she would attempt to do. For the moment, it seemed more prudent to leave the courtyard and... Well, find Mella, if anything. Given how he had sent her off earlier to scout the markets to make sure she had groceries for the two of them (as he was less inclined to eat at the cafeteria to begin with) and how she hadn't actually returned yet, the young man reasoned that she was likely still there, and so promptly started to leave the area once more to seek her out.

---

---

Despite having had a teacher right beside him as he passed out, it did not seem as if anyone had immediately moved to help Noctis. Whether or not it was because of the chaos of the courtyard as the students left (or chose to linger) or something else mattered little, though, as it seemed at least one student was willing to extend their hand to aid the young man.

Anne's hasty arrival coupled with an attempt to help drag Noctis off the ground was a bit less successful at first, mostly in part due to her lacking the strength to do so. It was only after a bit of struggling, though, that the young woman would hear someone else's voice from nearby.

"Oh, is he all right? Here, let me help; we should bring him to the nurse's office as soon as possible."

Almost as if all of the effort she had put in was meaningless, the owner of the voice lifted Noctis' unconscious body up and slung the young man's arm over his shoulder.

"Ah... That's a bit heavier than expected. Would you mind helping me out here, miss?"

The young man who had moved to help, of course, would have given Anne even more reason to panic. His golden blonde hair and aura of regality marked him as none other than one Christopher Alvonshire—in other words, the First Prince.

@MagusDream

[User]
"Yes, all has been well so far at the academy, though... I do dread the speech next year. He has a way of dragging it on and on." Serrica gave a small sigh as the older girl asked if she had seen a certain brother. "That cute little brother of yours? Nope. If I hadn't noticed you, there's not much chance I noticed him." Serrica mentioned as she looked around the area, seeing if she could get her eyes locked on any hair matching Elastasia's. "A shame, I could not set my eyes on him for you." The taller noble said, her own eyes meeting Elastasia's. "Perhaps if I find him, I shall tell him you were looking."

Serrica started to turn away so she could head off elsewhere before she stopped and quickly turned back towards the shorter girl. "Oh! And Lady Aquilanne, I plan on holding a tea party sometime soon to celebrate the start of this academic year. The time and date will be scheduled shortly and I will send you a written invitation. Should you find any other influent-- I mean, any other fine ladies of the academy who seem like they could use conne-Friends... Let me know and I will invite them as well."

Serrica seemed proud of herself for planning this event, "You will join me, right?" Elastasia was the character that seemed to have a thing for girls, or at least the main character, in the original game. Hopefully, it meant that she'd have an eye for girls to invite to such a connection making event.

Daze

[Assistant]
Elastasia

Well, at least that was one other person now on the lookout for her brother. That greatly simplified matters, although maybe Elastasia could do something else to help find him in this crowd a little bit faster... if nothing else, a little bit of magic ought to give her a better vantage point to see from, right?

Before she could do that, there was the little matter of Serrica's tea party to address. It wasn't the sort of thing that Elastasia wanted to attend. All-female or not, it would still just be a party of rich girls, and nobility vying for attention. But... maybe she should keep things moving in the direction of the main story? She hadn't met yet, but if Anne showed up in a magic class before this party, it should be possible to make the beginnings of an invitation and ensure she started to acquire powerful allies before the route splits.

But she didn't want to go...

"Oh, I don't know if I could meet many people you haven't," she said, resting her hand on her chin, "The Academy already draws from our typical social circles quite heavily. Your year would be the one most likely to have unfamiliar girls of lower rank."

[User]
Mella

---

Definitely good information, as helpful as she'd imagine such a character to be. She did however, catch herself staring just a little at simply how...different still, he'd be from the in game version. Rather than a faceless NPC, it seemed as though he was still just as real as she was, or even Reginald was. Then perhaps he could potentially help with something else, too? She doubted it since by the second act of the game he was gone, but you miss every opportunity you don't take.

"I see, thank you. The information is helpful." She'd reply. "But...perhaps if you'd be willing to help with a more personal request," She'd lower her voice slightly. "I'm looking for...investment opportunities." She'd pull a coin from somewhere within her dress, holding it between two of her fingers. "Not for my Lord, mind you. But for myself. I apologize if this is an odd request for a maid, but I simply find myself needing a large sum of money."

[Assistant]
Wait, what did the maid just ask him? Investment opportunities? Did that even exist in a maid's vocabulary? Regardless, Cervantes was pleasantly surprised by the maid's question. "Investment opportunities, well..." Cervantes trailed off in thought. Why would a maid, especially Reginald's maid, want to find investment opportunities? This didn't happen in-game, no matter how many times he played it. Perhaps this was some information he missed or skipped through while playing the game.

Still, the tutorial NPC, Cervantes, helped the heroine in whatever she asked. Things like where to find magic, what would the next event be, how to get away with murder, and places where a dragon egg might be...

Wait, how to get away with murder!?

A chill went down his spine as he smiled at the maid. "If you wanted my personal opinion, I'd say the potion business. They're very profitable and a necessity for adventurers. I heard that they sometimes make potions to help with illnesses as well." That was according to Cervantes's experience and some truth of the old world. Most hospitals were owned by wealthy CEOs, though Cervantes didn't know if the same applied to this world. It probably did, but he would need to do more research. "Though that wouldn't work..." Cervantes muttered to himself.

"If you wanted a more concrete answer, I'd need more information," Cervantes said to the maid. "Like how profitable they are, how easy is it to create a company in that business? Could you substitute that business with a different one?" That was better than asking for an overview of multiple industries. "I think you should start off with the question, 'which business do you want to invest in?' That way, I can tell whether or not it's a good investment." If the maid could narrow down the possibilities for him, that'd be great.

"Though there seems to be a problem with your question." A deflated look appeared on his face. "I mean no offense, but as a maid, your income would be low, no?" The maid in front of him could be a former noble that decided to serve another noble, but Cervantes felt like that wasn't the case. "It'd be hard to otherwise invest if you don't have enough money to compete with other merchants." After all, the more money invested, the more money is gained back.

"Though, I guess if you really wanted to invest, you'd be better off trying to find an inventor. Though those are often diamond in the rough." In a realistic sense, Cervantes was right. Inventors took a long time to create life-changing inventions, like the light bulb, for example, and they might be frauds if they fail. As a player, Cervantes had done it multiple times. In the investment part, he had the heroine invest in several businesses he knew that had a high rate of profitability. However, Cervantes felt guilty for that one artist in whom he often invested. In every playthrough, that artist would always follow Van Gogh's path. That artist could only find success in death...

A somber look briefly appeared on Cervantes's face as he was lost in thought. "Is there anything else I can help you with?"


[System]
Cecilia Lang

Age: 32
Gender: Female
Disposition: Cecilia comes off as a harsh, no-nonsense enforcer, keeping the other pilots of the Preying Panthers in line and commanding them in the field. She radiates authority, carrying herself with a haughty demeanor and steely confidence. In public, she molds her image into the Panthers' stone-cold adjutant, although on the inside she is actually very reserved and apprehensive about herself. Of course, she makes no effort to reveal her softer side to her associates. When it comes to operations, results come first. Cecilia keeps a close eye on the rest of the team in the field, to better orchestrate the most successful outcome.

Background: Prior to joining the Preying Panthers, Cecilia was a security officer of the WhiteTower private security corporation. WhiteTower had a strong presence in the XCD, providing surveillance and protection to client businesses; most of which were arms manufacturers or FRAME companies. WhiteTower provided FRAME training to applicants in its FRAME Security division, where Cecilia learned the ins and outs of piloting. Once she was fully registered, Cecilia was assigned to a post at Ceres Aeronautics. Originally a designer and manufacturer of aircraft, Ceres had just taken the leap into the FRAME market as well.

Ceres's entering the FRAME industry unnerved other local corporations, wary of the growing competition within the market. KellCorp was especially anxious when Ceres unveiled the XGM-24A Handou and lost a number of prospective clients to the upstart FRAME manufacturer. In response, KellCorp decided to put matters in its own hands and go on the offensive. It sent a mercenary unit to assault Ceres's FRAME manufacturing plant and send the message to stay out of the industry.

Cecilia was among the WhiteTower personnel assigned to the facility, who were caught off-guard by KellCorp's attack. The mercenaries mounted a sudden, powerful offense and hammered Cecilia's partners into submission before totaling the plant. Although she held out with a grim determination and downed a few FRAMEs, there were too many mercenaries for her to deal with, and she was forced to surrender after her machine had been disabled.

The incident prompted Ceres Industries to respond by hiring the same mercenaries that KellCorp had sent after them, enticing them with an extremely lucrative contract. Not only did this get KellCorp out of their hair momentarily, but it gave them a means to retaliate and replace the FRAMEs WhiteTower had lost. The mercenaries happened to be none other than the Preying Panthers, and after ruining KellCorp's chances of competing with Ceres, Richard Bentz convinced Cecilia to quit her job at WhiteTower and join his unit.

Inventory:
* Heavy calibre revolver w/ optional laser module/flashlight unit.
* Carbine-length adaptive battle rifle with standard electronic sight and under-barrel flashlight.
* Combat/survival knife
* Pilots' suit with ballistic armour and equipment harness
* Pilots' helmet
* Military-spec datapad strapped to right forearm

Other: TBD
Manufacturer: Canton
Height: 4.1 meters
Weight: 5100 kg
Armor: 40 mm armorplast alloy
Speed (Walk): 52 kph
Speed (Skate): 84.2 kph
Sensor range: 4 km
Communication range: 30 km
Operating range: 700 km
Weight: 2
Power: 3

Armaments:
* MG27 Light Machinegun
-An anti-personnel 7.62 caliber machine gun built by Radley Arms. Effective range is 400 meters. Rate of fire is 650 rds/min. 800 rounds are carried in an internal drum. Weapon is mounted into the torso.
* GPR-21 Autocannon
-A 30 mm autocannon manufactured by Canton Arms. Effective range exceeds 1200 m. Penetration listed at 105 mm of vertical steel alloy. Rate of fire on automatic is 400 rds/min. Magazines house 60 rounds each. Capable of firing APDS-T and HEI-T rounds.
* MGR-2A Anti-tank Missile Launcher
-An anti-tank missile launcher designed by Cradle Dynamics. Range exceeds 1200 m. Penetration rated at 625 mm of vertical steel alloy. Uses a tandem HEAT warhead to penetrate armor. Mounted to the left shoulder.

Subsystems:
* C3 Imaging Suite
* ECM Suite - Missile countermeasure device (MCD) designed to emit a concentrated infrared signal, confusing the homing seekers of anti-tank missiles. Warheads intercepted by the MCD are redirected away from the FRAME, but will still impact and detonate wherever they are scrambled to.
* EVF "Chameleon" Active Camouflage

[User]
Sabrina had hung back for most of the fight. She watched on to observe how her comrades fought, but it wasn't like she didn't do anything. The rear guard position fit a rifleman like her, and though it wasn't a glamorous job, it was necessary. She had their backs against flanking enemies and the like. It was leftover from her days in the military. Standard Operating Procedure. SOP was everything. It was how you went in. How you fought. And if you went home after it was over. While she didn't expect any of the other gangers to try to pull a fast one over on them, she was there just in case. Her lack of various weapon systems were made up for by the different types of ammunition she carried for them. Tungsten carbide APFSDS, HEDP, HEIT, and the Raufoss rounds for her 50 cal. With her 35mm Large Caliber Automatic Rifle, there wasn't much she couldn't face down.

"I didn't see anyone come around our six o' clock. Looks like this went quick." She commented, still scanning and keeping her guard up.

[Assistant]
Sarahs machine purred away as if nothing was wrong. However it was quite the strange feeling to be piloting a mech virtually blind. Asking quite disturbingly calmly what Mr.B could bring back online. I can get one of the left hemispheres cameras up, forty percent functional, right hemisphere main cameras are completely down. I can use the infrared camera as a replacement. She gave a soft giggle as she heard that. It was more than a boost to her. "Good boy", she said softly as she felt the heavy hand of Yassir on her shoulder, "Thanks Marlene....I...um", she didn't really have something facetious to say this time. She had seen on her radar that she had made her way over. In the near minute it took her to get some basic visuals back she was a sitting duck. "I've got some basic visuals, and I haven't got a hole in me this time", she said letting out a loud chuckle. "I think it would be wise for me to take a back seat for the rest of the mission. I'm not that crazy", she turned to face the old Handou. "How do I look? Pretty right?", The machines face looked like an elephant had stood on it. The sole functioning main camera swung a little with each movement. "Cecilia, what is the status on the enemy?", she asked for clarification before hearing that they only had one more to take down. It was a bit of a relief on seeing that last red blip vanish from her radar.

She sighed softly and stroked the console before her. On hearing Ms. Langs com she smiled, "Yes mam!, I love surprises!", Mr. B jumped from side to side like an excited four year old as she moved to regroup. She did however notice that one blue dot didn't move with the rest of them. She sighed again and shook her head softly. Hoping that Kat was okay, after all not everyone was able to simply break their conscious into pieces and tape it back together with a load of glue and string and move on like nothing had happened. She would be sure to have a word with her, maybe she might be able to convince her that what happened was a good thing. Then again not everyone has such a severe case of thanatosis as she did, a death wish. There was however always a way to get a soldiers death drive back. The OSU always knew how to shunt that into its soldiers. Her excited dancing ceased as a loud fizzle then snap occurred on her frames face. "Shit....", sparks began flying out of it as the last shred of connectivity of visuals popped.

She was sitting there in the dim glow of her illuminated keyboard. How she made it back was something she was definitely not proud of.... When they did however, she burst forth from the cockpit and immediately bolted her way back to the Samiginas war room. They had a new job! It had to be the surprise. Maybe they'd gotten back on good terms with Cradle? Who knew? She ran through the door to see Richard on the lower level. Continuing to run she grabbed the rail of the upper level and flipped over. Her eyes as usual gave that eerie artificial glow they always did, but were much brighter than they usual were. She was so excited; Richards Panthers must be back on track. They had to be....They'd lost so much...Any news is good news. "TELL ME TELL ME TELL ME!"

[User]
Maxwell didn't have to wait long in cover for the team to mop up the rest of the hostiles. For a bunch of guns-for-hire, the Panthers seemed to do a good job, even if these opponents were in civilian frames. The action was fast and ruthless, executed with a sort of zeal Silver had to respect. For a moment, he forgot why it was he normally didn't think of his teammates as professionals.

That was when one of them started screaming at the top of her lungs.

Right, Max remembered with a rumble in his throat. That's why.

Maxwell smacked a button in his cockpit to turn off Kat's screams, then came out from the cover of the building he'd chosen to hide behind. He spotted one last enemy FRAME firing off a few desperate shots at whoever it could, and he noticed it had taken some damage to its right leg already. Maxwell marched on forward with his shield ready and fired several rounds into the opponent's leg. Given the close quarters combat, it didn't take much for him to get his FRAME's autcannon shoved into the hole he made, blast a few more into the leg, then swept the opponent to the ground with a satisfying crunch. The leg came off, and the enemy FRAME would not be getting back, even though it was mostly functional.

The enemy ejected, but not soon enough. The cockpit came out flying straight toward a building and crashed spectacularly into a heap of rusty metal. The cockpit must not have been made of sturdy stuff, though, because when Maxwell peered over to see the cockpit, he found it was utterly crushed, and there was definitely blood in that wreck. He grimaced.

"This is Preacher," he said over the communicator. "Last hostile neutralized."

Maxwell gave a silent prayer for the dead, then moved to regroup with the rest of the Panthers. He hoped that this "big surprise" involved a suitcase full of money. He also hoped very dearly that he'd live long enough to earn that money...

Either way, it was time to get back to the Samigina.

[Assistant]
Samigina - Command Deck

 Cecilia stood erect to Richard's left, straining to resist the temptation of leaning on the diagnostics panel just next to her. Richard had sent their client a notification of the Panthers' success moments after the last civvie FRAME hit the ground, and to his relief, the client was not late with their payment. The other pilots were gathered about the holo-table at the center of the command deck, FRAMEs docked in the hangar. Some returned in better condition than others. Not every seat in the room was filled. With the loss in personnel, there were stations in the room that now demanded the attention of multiple crewmen.

 The one person in the room who Cecilia didn't recognize was the tall, oriental man on the other side of the Director. He was solid, clad in an XCD dress uniform bedecked with rows of candy-colored bars and medals. The man's otherwise handsome face was marred by a single, crooked scar that careened down his left ear to his chin. He held a leather-bound datapad case in the crook of his arm and met the Panthers with a nod as they entered. His eyes lingered on Cecilia for a moment longer; a fellow countryman.

 Richard broke the silence with, "Another drop in the bucket. Good work, Panthers." He turned a hand over to bring the attention to the officer beside him.

 "Let me introduce Colonel Leung Guoliang, of the XCD Army. Colonel Leung has come here as a representative of XCD Army Special Operations Command. He and I have been discussing a very critical development for the Panthers; this opportunity comes from the brass of the XCD. I'll turn the floor over to him."

 The Xiang officer stepped forward, activating the holo-display of the table at the room's center. An image of the Samigina, as well as the Panthers' FRAMEs danced above the surface.

 "The XCD ASOC has been monitoring the Preying Panthers since the incident at Cradle Headquarters." He paused, treading carefully around the scars of the unit's memory. "It is our understanding that the unit has... fallen on hard times. However, review of your combat data pre-Cradle reveals highly-acclaimed performance. Your unit has proven itself on many occasions to be effective and decisive, despite a moderate turnover rate. As a gesture of goodwill, the XCD wishes to extend its hand to the Panthers and rekindle the performance your unit has been known for."

 The images of the holo-table gave way to a logo of the XCD ASOC, and what appeared to be a table of organization. Colonel Leung indicated the display with his hand, explaining, "As part of this contract, the Panthers will be assigned to a division of ASOC. The XCD will refurbish the depletion in the unit's manpower and supplies, offer logistical and mechanical support and conduct joint-training exercises with the Panthers."

 Bentz was right; this did sound too good to be true. Material support from the XCD and training with the elite of the Army? That was a big step up from their current state. Cecilia had to wonder why the XCD was willing to invest so much in the Panthers. They were, after all, a huge risk, given their record over the past year. Richard must have seen the disbelief in her face, as he spoke up next,

 "With the XCD's support, I have full confidence that we will regain our footing as a solid fighting force. I'm sure that this news comes as a shock to you, but I am assured by Colonel Leung and his colleagues in the ASOC that opportunity is nothing but genuine. With that, the floor is open to questions."


[System]
19 | Werewolf

Appearance

Sierra weighs approximately 130lbs and stands at a staggering 5'3. She's solidly built, with a well-muscled body, the result of an active lifestyle. Her features seem somewhat mixed in ethnicity, though clear features such as a wide nose, olive skin, almond-shaped eyes and a short, round face hint at mixed Inuit heritage. Her hair is black and cropped messily short (like this), and her eyes are golden brown.

Sierra sports scars like bumper stickers. The most noticeable is a set of three long, jagged lines which rip from below her right ear, over the corner of her jawbone and down to the crook of her collar bone. She also has a little, jagged wedge missing from her left ear, and lots of little nicks around her throat and ankles. These are more noticeable in her humanoid form, and covered by her thick fur when transformed (although the nicks around her ankles and cut in her ear are visible).

Upon her arrival at Luce Prima, Sierra is a little skinnier than normal, and her hair has grown out to more of a messy bob. When transformed, her coat is shabby and in relatively poor condition.

Personality

Sierra lived a secluded life with very little exposure to people other than her own kind. As such, some of the intricacies of human and other cultures are lost on her. She can carry on a conversation pretty normally, but when it comes to sensitive or impolite topics, Sierra doesn't really know when to stop. Honestly, it just doesn't occur to her that not everyone may want to hear about the subtle art of breaking a rabbit's neck in graphic detail.

Having lived a very structured life, Sierra always subconsciously searches for her "place" in new relationships. She is very apprehensive of strangers, having been taught not to trust them. While she wants to become more self-sufficient, Sierra is generally more comfortable when someone else is calling the shots. Her life until now had very clear roles, and as such Sierra is very sensitive to authority, and very unlikely to challenge it.

This structure continues on an emotional level. Sierra has a very thick skin and instead of getting angry, she is far more likely to take her lumps and laugh it off with eyes downcast. She'll fight if cornered, but flight is normally her preferred option. To her, "normal" is being the butt of every joke and the outlet of frustration, and as such has trouble asserting herself. However, under the submissive exterior one can see a wild spirit with no mean bone in her body.

Sierra was, in fact, raised by wolves. Perhaps even more literally than others of her kind. While many other werewolves live among humans and hide themselves, or try to coexist, Sierra was raised exclusively around other werewolves in a remote village in the expansive forests of northern British Columbia. Her pack consisted of her immediate family (herself and her father) and the families of her uncle and aunt, who each had several children, of which Sierra was the youngest. The parents loathed humans, drawing on stories told to them by their elders of how the humans forced the Children of Dusk into exile. As such, the children never saw the world beyond the many hectares of forest they called theirs, though the adults sparingly (and grudgingly) traded with humans of the nearest towns, selling furs to buy what they couldn't provide for themselves.

Sierra's family pack was very close, however that didn't mean things were all fun all the time. No, her father, aunt and uncle (leaders with their own inner hierarchy) ran a tight ship, with Sierra's father at the helm. Insolence and disobedience was met with swift and painful correction. They didn't arrange themselves into ranks (aside from her father's traditional title of Alpha) but rather, a pecking order formed as the children grew older and stronger - a pecking order with Sierra decidedly at the bottom. Sierra became a lightning rod for the frustrations of her larger, stronger cousins, frequently finding herself at the sharp end of a snap or last in line to eat.

When she was younger, and just gaining her ability to transform, the pecking order bothered her. However, as she grew, she came to realize that her role in the pack was essential; without her, they would turn on each other. Perhaps, she concluded, it was her role in life to absorb the tension and keep the peace.

However, werewolves are not the same as wolves. They still have human wants and needs, no matter how much they deny it. So it would come as no surprise to an outsider that Sierra's position in her family wore on her nonetheless. On the surface, she was content with the strict life she led, with any important decisions made for her. Once she grew out of the obligatory rebellious phase (one she grew out of very quickly) she never even thought to question the authority of her father, uncle or aunt. She even obeyed her cousins, knowing it was best to get along. She really felt content with that. However, deep down, the suppressed human side of her was wilting. Thoughts began to worm her way into her mind: that she belonged at the bottom of the heap because the others were better than her, that she was too stupid to call the shots, too weak to challenge anyone. That this was her place because she wasn't enough to be any more. She thought these feelings were normal and even accepted them, but something continued to knaw at her.

It was a few years before she realized her unhappiness. She couldn't tell what it was; she thought she was happy where she was, that she belonged here. With her family, away from humans. The humans she'd been taught to hate. But she had never felt the hate burn inside her like it did in her father; to her, humans were little more than a folk tale. So when a mysterious letter somehow, impossibly, found its way to her home, she was intrigued. She hid the letter from her father (for she knew he would burn it) and read the thing over at least a hundred times. For weeks she deliberated, until finally her newfound longing to see the world beyond the trees overcame her fear of leaving. Turning away from her pack felt deeply wrong, and many times on her journey she almost turned back. If not for fear of getting caught, she probably would have.
Other
Sierra has a basic level of reading comprehension, but no formal education.

She met a human once, a lost hiker. It was freaky. Of course, the hiker wasn't a big fan of it either.

I've been known to tweak sheets after I post them, but this is the gist.

[User]
Striding forward, Himeri paid no attention to the looks she was getting. It was only when a robed figure stood out in front of her did she suddenly stop. Her tails whipped behind her as she looked at the figure with a critical eye. He was odd to say the least, she was used to people stopping her on the streets but not many had been robbed, with solid black eyes and a bucket of honey.

When he placed his hands together as a greeting, she couldn't help as she rised an eyebrow at the man before her. Her hand clenched tightly on her luggage's handle as she was about to quickly skirt around him, expecting nothing but annoyance but found herself stopping when he mentioned him being a scholar of the academy.

She internally sighed, she really did need to figure out where the housing was. She was not planning to drag around her bag for the rest of the day.

"If you could just direct me to the dorms that would be great. I can figure out the rest from there."  She would really rather just get to her own room and unpack after such a long flight. She didn't want to rely on this strange man's help for too long.

[Assistant]
Akira Igarashi

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Mentions: @Aura @RoccanIronclad

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Akira entered his room - a small grin on his face. This was all so different from his homeland to the East. It was colder, but not unbearably so. The room wasn't anything special either - with a small bed, a cabinet and a desk with a lamp on top as its furniture. It was good enough. He didn't need anything else, to be honest. He could just pick something out of the ground for food - it was enough nutrition for him at least.

The Scholars were really kind to give him a room - but the trip had to be paid by him. At least he had enough money that he accumulated over the years of his life. He did bring a lot of them as he flew here, which was practically all of his possessions aside from a change if clothes or two. Material possessions weren't too important to him since he doesn't have much need for it. Though collecting crap has always been something he does. He's a hoarder, but he eventually parts with it.

Opening a window, he began to stretch and look out. Ah, it was a good view. Perhaps it was a good time to see the sights and explore this town. He looked back at the room and then jumped out - his body shifting into a cat's by the time he landed on another roof. Arching his back and flexing his claws, he let out a soft meow before beginning to move from one roof to another using the flexibility of a feline.

He always felt good whenever he would traverse the surface in his original form. While being human was fun and all, slipping through cracks as a cat was always more fun. Not to mention getting food from good-hearted bystanders was a plus. Akira quickened his pace until he was racing towards the farmer's market through the usage of anything but the road the others frequently used.

When he heard the familiar buzz of the market, he slowed down his pace and peered curiously into one of the shops by bending himself over the roof. The shopkeeper looked a the black cat with a tilt of her head. The two's eyes met and she gave him a smile. "Anything that strikes your fancy?" She questioned.

Akira blinked at her and then shook his head.

"Oh, I see. Come back if you find yourself in any need of my wares." She replied kindly and Akira nodded before disappearing back into the roof.

Right, they were all supernaturals. They could sense him, or at least the magic that he exudes. Oh well, it's still better than having to push and squeeze to get through the crowd down there. He could hear a variety of things - but he finally felt at ease. It was the same anywhere huh? The market was always chaotic with people shouting to present their goods and others fighting to haggle it down to a certain price.

Akira sat down for a while after some time of walking. He began playing with the bell tied to his collar - a certain item he decided to keep with him in both his human form and cat form. He swatted at it - letting the bell ring repeatedly and loudly with the sound being carried off by the wind. It had a… a calming effect on him to be honest. After five times of ringing the bell, he once more started to move.

However, as he padded along, he felt a very familiar aura. He began following where this aura was coming from. His eyes fell onto a girl dressed in rather elegant clothing and carried herself like she was the queen of the world - accompanied by a scholarly looking fellow and he could guess, from his clothing, that he may as well be one of the Scholars. But he was not what he was looking for. The girl was one of those from his homeland - a Kitsune. Feeling giddy that he found someone from around his area, he pounced onto the ground and then brushed against the two's legs before letting out a purr - a sign that he was looking for food. He wasn't sure whether or not they would immediately peg him to be a Bakeneko, or their cousin a Nekomata, but he wanted to see what their reactions would be.

[User]
Sierra had no words. She was entirely overwhelmed. She'd been hiding in the forest just outside the city walls for days working up the courage to approach it, and she still didn't know what to do. The stone wall that stood before her reached higher than she thought possible. How on earth could anyone stack stones so high? She could feel its weight on her shoulders, not unlike the feeling one gets when creeping through mountain paths. Like stone giants leaning over you, watching.

She wasn't even sure that she was in the right place. She'd barely been able to read the letter, and the coordinates it gave meant nothing to her. But somehow she knew it must be. Something drew her there, calling her from behind those damn walls. The whole area felt strange. Charged, somehow. Strange scents wafted out over the walls, scents of creatures she couldn't even begin to discern. The weirdness of it all should have sent her running.

But it didn't.

So today, finally, Sierra told herself she would go inside. She had to. As unprepared as she felt to do something so bold without guidance, she knew she had to. She'd made it this far! She had to see what she'd come so far for!

So move your damn legs already!

Huffing, she kicked the dirt with a bare foot. Circling in place, she inwardly cursed herself for her cowardice. Typical, she thought, you knew you wouldn't have the guts to do it.

A growl formed in her throat, mostly aimed at herself. Finally, she turned her thoughts to the letter once again. What it said about the Children of the Dusk finally having a haven where they didn't have to hide. She had never felt the need to show herself before the letter; now it was all she could think about to learn about the other people in the world. The thought gave her an odd boost of confidence.

With a deep breath, she shouldered her bag and willed herself forward. One foot, then the other. Soon, she was in.

If she'd been overwhelmed outside the wall, she was entirely dumbfounded inside. The sights, sounds, and smells assaulted her senses, and she found herself happy that she'd transformed to her human shape before coming in. Even in this form her senses were keener than a human's, but lacked the precision of a wolf's. For now, that was fine with her.

She didn't know what to look at. All around her were people, people of foreign shapes and sizes, smelling like nothing she'd ever experienced before. Her feet moved on their own, through the passerby and toward a colourful throughfare where people seemed to be collecting. She'd never seen so many people in her life, and part of her wanted to shrink away. The other part, however, pulled her forward. It was all so foreign, but something strangely familiar nagged at the back of her mind.

Amber eyes wide, she stared at the city around her, turning around as she walked. Every time she turned there was something else entirely new. Creatures in stalls selling things, some more human than others; people brushing past her briskly, grumbling for her to keep up with traffic; even a group of giggling children rushing past her legs, one with green skin. Some people looked human, some did not. Many had the features of humans and other creatures. Others still looked as human as she did.

Struggling to take it all in, Sierra didn't watch where she was going. Absently, she backed up to get a better view of a stall's colourful canopy, and ran right into someone.

As soon as she touched the person, Sierra jumped, turning on her heel and dropping her bag in the process. "Fuck!" she exclaimed, stooping to collect the bag, "I'm so sorry! I didn't see you!"