[System]
Age: 19
Appearance: Short and with a sickly looking complexion. Her thin face is framed by long, straight black hair that falls all the was to her thighs. She wears a long black skirt and a bulky brown coat. Has a scar the extends from the left side of her forehead up under her hairline.

Personality: Morbid but affable, Charlie is awash in nervous energy at all times. Talks a lot. Talks to herself a lot and doesn't have much of a mental filter. Comfortable with the sight of blood and most other things that normal people are squeamish about. Loves true crime books. Her greatest fear is waking up one day to the realization that she's a serial killer.

Skills: Rifle shooting, Taxidermy, anatomical knowledge of pests.

Other: Uses a handgun.

[User]
As the engine of the helicopter hummed and the blades chopped through the air, Mikkish sat and went over in his head how he wound up in this situation. Maniacles Corporation was quite innovative, so the helicopter they were in looked futuristic, not unlike those vertibirds from Fallout.

Maniacles was supposedly the reason guns were now so cheap, and affordable to anyone. His own glock was only $50. When they weren't selling and manufacturing guns and other technology they were hiring and selling mercenaries for wars overseas.

Yes, there were wars, even despite the Pests. Mikkish reluctantly worked a fast food grill and killed god knows how many Pests in his life. As far back as he remembered, everyone owned a gun, a pistol at least. He himself kinda sucked as a marksman, being gifted in hand to hand combat instead, particularly MMA.

He wondered what they were off to go study. What "magic?" Clearly it was meant for young people. Would it be college like? He always wanted to go to University, but never could scrape up the money. He looked around at the others in the big helicopter, and wondered what was up with them.

[Assistant]
Alexis was excited to be on the helicopter. She could finally do what she never did in her life because of her running. She could go to college. Who cares if this "magic" thing is not really. She was happy. A big smile on her face. Her Desert Eagle was at his usual at her hip holster , the new paint job really looked good. She loved her weapon , even named her Turli , for who knows what reasons ?

This Maniacles corporation really knew how to make good weapon and her ex-boyfriend gunsmith made it better. Going at the range was her favored thing of the day , besides the morning practice. Every now and then Pests would come to the track and she had to shoot'em. Good target practice as she called it.

The helicopter was full of people. She didn't knew anyone there but she saw confusion on some faces and on others ? Excitement.
She plans to make full of this opportunity. She only hopes that there is a shooting range at the campus or maybe a Pest attack occasionally.

[User]
Most of the people on the helicopter ride were quiet, even those that looked like they had the jitters. One, though, you couldn't get to shut up.

"Magic is real. Magic is real. Gonna be a wizard. Magic is real. Wingardium Leviosa, Hokus Pocus. Magic is real." Charlie mumbled under her breath as she tapped her feet in tune with the muffled WHUP WHUP WHUP WHUP that the helicopter blades made in the air. Charlie was a big believer in the concept of thought affecting the body. Not in any hippy dippy mystical placebo effect kind of way, no, in a practical way. She'd read in a book that when you repeated and ruminated on an idea the neural pathways related to that idea got stronger and stronger, like working out a muscle, so that in the future information about that topic was easier to carry and it allowed you to accept the ideas much easier.

The book had been about suicide clusters. Good read, but a little overwrought.

She looked around at the people in the cabin, still mumbling to herself, and wondered for the tenth time today whether this really was on the up and up. Those things where they slapped an explosive collar around your neck and made you fight to the death didn't actually happen (at least on this scale, she wasn't willing to rule it completely out of existence), but there were those weird sex islands that big businessmen and politicians occasionally owned.

Maybe Amos had been right about this. She hadn't exactly gotten her uncles permission to go on this trip.

She should have bought a phone before coming out here.

"Magic is real. Magic is real. Weird sex island battle royal. Abracadabra, avada cadarva."

[Assistant]
Mikkish smirked.

"Holy shit, Battle Royal. Thats what this reminds me of." He said, breaking the ice with Charlie.

Just then, a man in a suit entered the passengers section of the air craft.

"Ahem. Uh, sorry to interrupt, but just want everyone's attention real quick."

He paused a second as Mikkish and several others turned their attention.

"My name is Mathew Williams. You may call me Matt. I just wanted to go over, real quick, some details of whats going on. First off, you all know about the Pests, right? Well you may or may not have heard that they have been increasing in number over the past decade, despite how much people are killing them and all of the actions taken to bring their population down, there are more Pests each year than the last. In addition to this, not all of the Pests are the sizes of puppies like you have probably seen. Many of our mercenaries have died fighting some which we believe to be breeders for the Pests. I don't really have my projector with me so I cant show you, but these breeders are huge, from elephant sized to large building sized. These larger ones are a lot more reclusive though. You wont find one walking through a city, most likely." He explained, "Any questions so far?"

[User]
"No? We all good? Good." Matt said, as he continued.

"So, Maniacles Corporation has been in contact with various little hidden towns all over the world for years, but only recently have they agreed to do business with us. You're probably wondering what hidden societies I'm talking about. Well what if I told you there were people all over the world who could read minds, set things on fire by blinking at them, and even cause a dead body to walk and act alive? Well as crazy as it sounds, these people have formed hidden societies all over the world. They are called "mages." But the most amazing thing about this is not that there are mages. The most amazing thing about all this is that almost anyone, any average Joe or Julie, can become a mage through practice. These abilities that mages have can destroy Pests much more efficiently than a glock or even an assault rifle could, and now people can be trained and develop these abilities. There are even colleges in these towns. Towns that, for the record, have no Pest problem, or at least a very low infestation problem. When I say college, I do mean university, by the way, meaning room and board and learning magic in a classroom setting." He paused

"Any last questions?"

[Assistant]
"Alright then. Just a few more details to go through, there is a chance of injury or even death if instructions are not followed strictly, and anyone who's GPA falls too low will be kicked out of the program and sent back home.

Another couple of agents began passing around papers, which asked for signatures. It included being paid while in the program, what benefits they had access to, the risk of injury and death, notification of what can get someone kicked out of the program including murder and too much damage to Maniacles property, and a GPA falling too low.

Mikkish, of course, signed without really looking. He just wanted the pay and the college girls he just figured out he would probably meet. He never could afford to go to university, now he was being paid to go experience something he didn't think he would get to.

Sooner than anyone thought, the helicopter started to land, and the doors opened, revealing they had landed on the roof top of a tall building, overlooking a city of high rises and sky scrapers. It looked more like a smaller NYC than anything out of Harry Potter.

"Welcome to Malficus City, found on Malficus Island. Somewhere West of Northern California. The academy is at the other end of the city. Hope you're all in the mood for some sight seeing." Said Matt.

It was late afternoon. The neon lights of the city would be visible soon. Mikkish grinned. He never lived in a big city like this, and wondered what transit was like. He especially couldn't wait to see what clubs he could get into.

[User]
Charlies feet pounded on the roof as she hopped out of the helicopter, walking over tho the edge and looking down over the sweeping city. Definitely not a sex island then. You didn't build all this when a summer camp sufficed. Had magic built all this? She shuttered. She hoped wizards weren't all dicks and idiots. Wizards in fiction tended to be either dicks or idiots. They could take out pests and had hidden that from the world. That definitely leaned dickish.

Anyway, she did was she came here to do and signed her form on the safely railing, walking it back and handing it over the Matt before turning back to the crowd of students. "Anybody got cell reception?" She asked out loud. She didn't have a cell phone herself. Nobody to call. If there weren't any bars here that was a suspicious sign that this might still be a weird, murderous hoax. "If you do that means we're definitely not fighting to the death or something."

[Assistant]
I was sitting in a corner of the helicopter, as far away from the others as I could. I was clutching a bow, a quiver of arrows, and a small case full of my personal belongings. It wasn't because I didn't like anyone, or that I was a cold person or anything... just... a bit socially awkward, or shy, I dunno... a lot of people back in my old town didn't really like me. Probably because they thought I was weird a bow instead of a gun... or that I was always reluctant to attack pests... or... my presence... some people even spread nasty rumors that I was a form of pest that puts its prey into a relaxed and defenseless state before killing them. I took a deep breath, that's over now. It's a new start.

I didn't have that many questions, so I stayed quiet and stared out the window in silence. When the sheet was handed to me, I read through the paper quickly and then signed.

When we landed, I got out of the helicopter, slipping my bow and quiver over my shoulder, and walked to the edge of the rooftop. "Whoa... how... could this have been hidden for so long...? Magic's amazing..." I looked at the city below and took a deep breath. This was going to be my home from now on. I never really thought I'd be able to go to college. I mean, I had great grades, and I qualified some scholarships, but for the most part they wouldn't take care of everything, and I couldn't very well work a full time job and do college full time... before this, I had merely been saving up.

[User]
"Catch up!" Shouted Matt, giddily, as he walked down a flight of stairs into the building.

He lead everyone down through the Maniacles building and out into the city streets. As soon as they got out...they came to find a city much like any other. For Mikkish, and perhaps a few others, this didn't dull the excitement of being in a city. But cars whizzed by occasionally, the city was very pedestrian friendly though. Occasionally, a person would by seen wearing a witch or wizard hat along with normal clothes. Some could be seen lighting cigarettes with flames on the tips of their fingers, or blasting themselves with cold air right from their hands to cool themselves in the heat of the day.

"Like I said, these mages were here, having their own modern society when we got here. Not sure how." Matt said, he turned around to Charlie as he kept moving "We are trying to keep our operations with these mages as discrete as possible. The only cell reception is for cell phone companies found on the island."

They passed two men who were throwing punches at each other lightning quick, seriously like something right out of DBZ. It was impossible, for a normal human being to move at these speeds. Matt moved around them casually. Mikkish did similar, but stared with great curiosity.

[Assistant] "A-Ah, sorry!" I called out, before turning around and rushing after the group. I looked around in amazement, my town hadn't really been this big or bustling. It was a bit dizzying... I hope that I don't get lost later. I tried not to stare at people, wearing weird accessories, clothing, or doing impossible things. However, I did stop when we reached the two fighting. "S-Shouldn't we try to stop this? O-One of them could get hurt." I clutched the locket around my neck, twisting it slightly in my grip. It was an unfortunate nervous habit of mine...

[User]
But Matt ignored Joe as he lead the students on.

"Damn dude, are we there yet?" Mikkish said, annoyed by the heat and humidity.

"Oh no, we got about another hour of walking ahead of us." Matt said, a hint of insincerity in his voice.

Ahead was a couple of buildings on a hill. The lawn was freshly and neatly mowed. The sidewalks swerved in an intentional, organized pattern. Young adults stood or sat, chatting or studying about the lawn.

"Hey wait...an hour? You're telling me this ain't the school?" Mikkish asked intuitively.

Matt, of course, ignored as he continued into the school grounds.

[Assistant] I was a bit taken aback by his lack of an answer. |"B-Be assertive Joe, these people could get hurt if we don't do anything! We can't just ignore this." I stopped, trying my best not to seem nervous. "H-Hey! I-I asked a question! W-We should try to stop this, shouldn't we!? These people could get hurt, couldn't they!?" I tried to keep my voice and body from trembling. I usually never raised my voice, and I tried to always keep my emotions in check...

[User] "Statistically most street fights that don't involve weapons end before one of the fighters is seriously injured." Charlie said casually. "It's a dominance thing, a way to see whose dick is bigger. Those guys are either going to get picked up by the magic cops, ones going to walk to the magic hospital with a broken nose, or they're going to stumble back into the magic bar they came from as best friends. I know how hard it is to act against the diffusion of responsibility, and it's really cool that you are swimming against that stream, but we're on a magic island full of magic people and none of them seem worried about it."


[System]
Nicknames: The Bastard of Yamato, Dishonest Mutt
Age: 32
Gender: male
Rank: Assassin
Specializations: Firearms, ambushes

Appearance: Toki stands at 5'7, He seems almost scrawny, but it's clear he is quite fit even despite his looks. His cheeks are a bit gaunt and his nose has broken at least twice. Toki keeps his hair cut short in the style of the foreigners and has decided to go for a mostly shaven look - leaving his thin mustache however. Under his haori he wears foreign clothes - black pants, a thick belt with a sort of bandolier for the shells of his coach gun, riding boots and an officer's coat - he had to pay quite a price for the coat and it is now one of his most prized possessions. He openly carries his foreign weapons on his hip - the coach gun having it's own specially made holster.

Personality: Despite his seeming dishonesty and other less savory antics Toki is quite jovial - lacking the traditional training of etiquette due to his illegitimacy he has no trouble conversing with people from all around the society - from the lowliest peasant to the highest of nobles, or the foreigners for that matter.

Biography: Toki is the youngest - and illegitimate - son of the Yamato Clan - a little clan formerly from the north of Shikoku, now fallen on hard times. He was never quite interested in the 'traditional arts', preferring sake dens and gunsmiths over calligraphy and swordsmanship. He got interested in firearms at a young age - quickly devouring every piece of information about them, the more technical the better! When the black ship arrived he began associating as much as possible with the foreigners - becoming quite adept in their language in the process and managing to make few contacts - contacts he would later use to outfit a squad of men with if not the most modern tools of killing at least with something that would get the job done.

For a while the group Toki gathered were little more than glorified bandits, skirting on the edge of the law and more or less causing trouble and being more a nuisance than any kind of a threat to the Imperial - and by extension to the Shogunates - forces. A change to this came when they openly disrespected an officer - an imperial captain. The captain challenged the crew into a duel on the spot, something Toki felt was plainly idiotic. It was 5 against one and the 5 were armed with coach guns and swords whereas the captain was only armed with his sword. Still, a 'duel' they had. It ended in less than 3 seconds with the captain's body riddled with shot. This action hardly gained them any love from the imperial forces and the men quickly found themselves having to flee their home province.

Now more more or less criminals in the eyes of the imperial forces Toki threw his lot in with the Shogunate properly. The crew 'enlisted' to the Shogunate cause and managed to prove their worth to at least few of the commanders - even though the proper samurai leading them still saw the men as little more than crass and dishonorable fools, their use of tactics more fitting to a peasant rather than samurai was still proving to be very effective. Thus Toki and his little group had gotten - if not an outright pardon, then at least a stay of execution.

When the Shinsengumi was formed Toki managed to get himself aquainted with the group - mostly by cashing in a favour from one of the samurai he had served under, with the caveat that he literally never ask any favours from the fellow ever again. His dishonest and dishonourable creed of 'quick victory, at any cost' may not have made him many friends, but it has made his 'crew'- as he calls the little group of four compatriots he hangs around with, the group he armed before joining the Shinsengumi - a quite effective fighting force.

Fighting Style: Toki's fighting style is quite... Dishonorable to say the least. He never fights alone if he can avoid it and utilizes his squads marksmanship ability as much as possible. If he has to fight alone he will take full advantage of every dishonest trick in the book - be it sand in the eyes or just blasting his opponent from close range with his revolver or coach gun. His defenses consist of him staying quick on his feet and remaining out of sword reach as much as possible, or just simply legging it - often to goad his enemies in to following him to a prepared ambush.

Preferred Weapon(s): Colt Army Model 1860 revolver, a short barreled coach gun without the stock and modified to empty both barrels with the pull of only one trigger, wakizashi for close combat

[User]
I'm super popular, thought Nagatoki.

A grin flourished on his lips as he followed behind the others, mirroring their moves with near perfect accuracy. As the conversation fell into priorities, volunteer work, and ultimately useless babble, Nagatoki stepped up next to Fujimaru. Like the Captain he put his hand to chin and feigned contemplation. As Fujimaru began to speak, Nagatoki dropped his act and instead started to busy himself as they all deliberated.

Crap, the hell should I do while everyone is running their mouths, Nagatoki folded his arms over his chest. They can all wait outside to be honest. With my skills and infamy, I could probably take the Mad Dog down all by myself. His cheeks reddened at that thought, an obviously large smile on his face.

"The Bright-Eye Manslayer will be known worldwide. But that can only happen if I gain even more political-power. His mumbles tapered off to the musing of selfish indulgences.

[Assistant] Fujimaru almost gave Nagatoki a backwards look wondering why he'd be trying to get that manslayer from Choshu's name spread around. Deciding that it wasn't worth the question asked Fujimaru decided to ignore the statement for the time being. "If it is political power you seek then you should take that up with Lord Hijikata. He is the one with the true power behind the wolves of Mibu. Or are you afraid he might bite your head off?" chuckled Fujimaru as he looked towards the sky seeing the large building they were meant to assault coming up in the distance he readied himself to take the life of a man once more in the name of their Emperor.

[User] Toki bowed his head slightly to Fujimaru, it was clear from the way he had looked from one speaker to the other that the man at least bothered to listen to everyone's opinions, not just the captain. "I'd worry about makin' a name for m'self when we ain't in a state of war. Ev'ry man may be born to die, but ya know, I'd rather have grandchildren to tell some stories, ya hear?" He motioned at his compatriots who took better positions on his sides. His eyes widened as he remembered a line he read once, it was from the Art of War. 'Ponder and Deliberate before you make a move'. He spoke again, calmly, without the earlier 'country bumpkin drawl'. "Captain... Exactly what are we attacking here? Do we know their numbers? Are there civilians present?" Though the Bastard of Yamato had a stomach for killing he drew the line in non-combatants. He held his right hand up, palm facing the four men with him and spreading his fingers. Calmly he waited for some kind of a confirmation or estimate from Fujimaru. "After all a wise man wrote once... uh... Knowing the enemy enables you to take the offensive, knowing yourself enables you to stand on the defensive, and we are definitely taking the offensive here, sir." Toki had for a moment a mischievous, barely noticeable smile on his lips. "Bravery without forethought, causes a man to fight blindly and desperately like a mad bull. Such an opponent, must not be encountered with brute force, but may be lured into an ambush and slain."

[Assistant]
Yuya Kishibe arrived on the scene chatting with some police officers,Telling them that he was a Shinsengumi and that he was told to meet with the group. From what he was told they were planning something before going on the attack, Being pointed to where they were the short shortsman jogged towards the pointed direction hoping to caught them before they rush into battle. Really he hoped he was not late and or missed the plan as he wanted to know everyone's input or what the battle plan would be.

After a while of jogging Yuya arrived to where they were taking deep breaths, "My apologies for being late, I hope i did not miss anything important" He spoke in a noticeable nasally and high pitched voice.

[User] "If I had numbers my friend I wouldn't be here telling you to watch out for civilians. We don't exactly have the luxury of sneaking into places filled with rebels without the chance of risking the lives, and security of the mission. This revolution will be bloody. I would prefer to lessen the blood shed if possible. That is all I meant by my words." Fujimaru told his compatriot as he looked over to Yuya running over to him fashionably late but reasonable enough he suppose at least he didn't run in just as the raid started. Fujimaru took his time to nod, and gesture towards the building now in front of them. "You're here now that's all the matters. Take positions." Fujimaru stated as he approached the building as he opened the door a woman in a kimono looked on terrified at them in the middle of the hallway. She seemed to understand instantly what was going on as she pointed upstairs. As the vanguard moved upstairs Fujimaru made sure to watch the hallways, and doors on the first floor. As the first of the group came upstairs they heard loud noises coming from a room with the door opening. Investigating it showed a group of men of six with swords joking about how dumb the police were lately. Another group upstairs seemed to be mumbling something underneath their breath but hadn't noticed anything.

[Assistant]
Yuya nodded his head as Fujimaru spoke,Peeking his head a little into the room to quickly scan the area. He was making sure how big the room was and if their was any furniture that could be both a hindrance or benefit, The young man wondered how they would tackle this issue. He could try to corner around the room with another person to ambush them. However he would have to speak to his superior about what the plan was.

"So what is the your next plan of action?" He asked Fujimaru wanting to know how to incapacitate them without casualties, "Could i suggest we could try to ambush or distract these men away form this room?" He asked Fujimaru once more with what the course of action would be.

[User] "You tell me what you think we should do first Yuya? Do we really need to force confrontation here. This is a hotel these men may just be samurai discontent with the shogunate. Or they could be enemies? Do we attack first? Or do we wait? Would you risk your hands being watered with the blood of a man who didn't need to die?" questioned Fujimaru as he looked at his companion. He spoke quietly to make sure his voice wasn't overheard too far away from him like the men in the nearby room. "We need to do our jobs without disgracing ourselves, and the shogunate. More so I am not the point man in this attack." Fujimaru said pointing forward as he looked at Yuya with indifferent eyes. He wanted to test his men here see if they actually were worth the title of 'Wolf of Mibu'. He wasn't sure himself on the course of action but he'd probably order the group to split up if the front men truly wanted his orders. It was his job as captain to give orders and he wouldn't fail to do so if he needed to.

[Assistant]
Ryuga leaned back as everyone else entered the building. He honestly didn't expect Haruka to join up with him on the watch. "Why didn't you go with the others? There's nothing really glorious about taking out foes who are running and I'm pretty sure Nagatoki is trying to take your rank. Plus I'm certain that you would be more than happy to give these guys a taste of your blade. The former sellsword asked, as he had a feeling that it was personal to Haruka. Sensing grudges was a skill that he had to build up in his past, as that where the paycheck or a new enemy was, maybe it was constantly seeing the same story, but he couldn't really understand why she would hold back to hang out with him.

Fenrir

[User] Yuya was disheartened by Fujimaru's comment,"I apologies, Perhaps we should wait or one of us listen into their conversation to see if they are the ones we are looking for?" He spoke to his commander in a hushed tone of voice. If they were not sure if these were the men they were suppose to fight. Yuya suggested perhaps he could easedrop on them by himself as not to put anyone in danger. However he asked the others if they had any other ideas for this situation.

[Assistant] Haruka's eyes narrowed slightly when Ryuga spoke to her, but otherwise her expression remained stoic. "I would, indeed, enjoy spilling the blood of a few Western Dogs, and perhaps if any slip past Fujimaru we'll be able to indulge. However..." She took a breath and her expression softened. "Emotions must be tempered by judgement. Ensuring that none of the dogs escape is an important job. You may not find it glorious, but glory is irrelevant. We are Shinsengumi, and we will stop the Imperials at every turn. To further that end, I will lend my talents to this task with you." She stood by her reasoning that experienced eyes would be useful on the outside as well. She knew there would be more chances to directly fight the imperials. For now, she was content to do her job. And if Nagatoki is deemed better suited to this position, then so be it. I did not join the Shinsengumi for lofty titles.

[User]
Toki listened silently for the exchange of words. He waited for a moment before speaking in a calm, low voice as his eyes scanned around the area. "Now, I may not be much of a diplomat, but I know a thing or two about talkin' to people of all classes. If we ain't lookin' to outright start the fight... Gimme... five minutes." He motioned to his four compatriots and they exchanged a whispered plan. Without any further warning he and his crew were moving. They made their way to the room with the armed men.

"Goood evenin' to ya gents!" Toki pointed around the room, swaying like a drunkard as two of his friends made a show of keeping him upright. "Mind if us fellas join ya?" He slurred his words a bit and made a point of widening his eyes when he 'spotted' the men being armed. He straightened up a bit and very slowly - as to show he wasn't trying anything funny - moved his hand to one of his pockets, pulling out a hip flask. "Don't worry about the liquor, we got our own."

The four men flanking Toki did their best to seem as unamused as possible of their friend's antics. One of them coughed and smiled apologetically. "You gotta forgive our friend here, he's been drinking some of that ...what did the foreigners call it...? Brandy? Just look at the fellow... He's bad enough with just sake..."


[System]
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Weapon: Ebon uses what looks like a huge tower shield known as "The Kingdom". A very heavy shield that Ebon can swing and bash his foes with, but there's a secret to it that is it's true power. The Kingdom stores about a hundred "R-Types", drone ships about the size of a handgun within. Each of these R-Types can be used for different purposes with different equipment, from simply being fast moving shooting drones, to melee-oriented drones that grapple and swarm his enemies, to recon that allows him to have a knowledge of the battlefield. Some drones can take more damage than others, and if they can return to The Kingdom they can get repaired within the next few minutes. The R-Types are build around a unique beacon that allows Ebon to control them with his semblance more easily. As long as they are near by he doesn't need to look at them to control one of his R-Types. While mechanical in nature, rely entirely on Ebon's semblance to operate; if anything else tries to all they'll get is a useless model ship.

Specialty: Ebon prefers to use his R-Types to fight for him, controlling them from a safe distance to break down his opponents. Not that he can't handle himself in a fight, but this is just how he works best. Like a sniper, it's best if the enemy isn't in his face.

Semblance: Ebon's Semblance is basically Telepathy and Telekinesis which he calls "Mind of Matter", but it works on just about everything, even inanimate objects. Specifically what it's like is as though he was right where the person or object is, and he can see what they see, hear what they hear, and feel what they feel like he was there himself. He can also use this power to communicate with others or read their surface thoughts. With long focus and concentration he could even dig through their memories for basic information, like their names or things they're very familiar with. He can telepathically "Listen" to someone as fast as it take to listen normally, though he needs some time if he wants to decipher more jumbled messages that come from trying to read someone's thoughts.

He can telekentically control inanimate objects or unconscious creatures. He has to see what he wants to telekentically control unless it's one of his R-Types, in which he can control without looking as long as they're close to him. Ebon can use his telekinesis to augment his strength as he usually uses it to throw very heavy objects around, occasionally even his foes if they make an opening.

Ebon has an effective range of about 50ft away from him that he can easily control or use his telepathy without losing concentration due to the heat of battle. Beyond that Ebon would need to divide his attention on things further away less he lose control over them. If he doesn't need to worry about something disturbing him, Ebon could keep his focus on objects well outside his 50ft range, though any distraction will break his focus and force him to start over.

Personality: Ebon can be a rough guy to be around. He always seems to be on edge, like he expects you to fight him. He can't help it as he grew up with a fairly violent history; you don't make threats you don't intend to carry out, and Ebon is more likely to act on those threats than other people are. He can also be very superficial; he'll judge you for whatever reason, be it your gender, your race, your weapon, your appearance, or even just your name. He can be a hard guy to get close to and he typically does that on purpose as he doesn't want to make emotional connections. If you can tolerate him being an asshole to you, he'll slowly begin to warm up to you, but only if you can prove that you're not about to die any time soon. He hates the idea of losing his friends and will go out of his way to save them, even if he has to kill hundreds of others to do that.

Color: Ebony

Emblem: A castle tower (Kind of like a rook from chess) with three arrows coming from the top. This is suppose to be The Kingdom, and the arrows represent his R-Types.

Appearance: Ebon is a tall, black skinned young man. He has a rather full beard for a 19 year old which he keeps braided. Despite his dark attitude he wears colorful clothing, prefers warm colors like red and yellow, though he doesn't mind wearing light blue and green as well. He also doesn't like shoes and often goes barefoot, though he'll settling for sandals if he has to. Regardless of what his outfit is he always wares a black duster with it's sleeves torn off, and on the back is his emblem in white. He has burn scars covering most of his body, and practically all of his face except around his mouth where his beard grows out.

[User]
Shuai Taidan - Sticky Situation

"Gotcha."

What was a semblance? The obvious, textbook answer to such a question would be the manifestation of one's aura, an unique power that was fuelled by the energies of one's very soul. A perfectly accurate and usable definition, but to simply explain the phenomena in such a ... drab and utilitarian manner ... was quite disappointing, especially when there was far more to it. After all, a semblance was a projection of the soul upon the physical world ... or as Taidan saw it, the imposition of one's identity upon reality.

It was the ability to affirm one's sense of self in a world that cared naught for it.

It was to take everything that made somebody a person and shape it into power.

And through that power, they would tell the world that they exist.

That they are.

Time slowed. He could feel the conduits within him come to life. He could feel the burning of his blood, the cycling of energy through his body, the beating of his heart as his aura flowed, the liquid fire of his soul bringing his semblance, his six divine arms, into action. He could feel it all. The emergence of his identity into the world.

The Santouliubi.

Taidan didn't move a single inch.

He didn't need to.

His ethereal arms, once wisps, echoes of his soul ... they became corporeal.

And they struck.

Two of the aura arms twisted around the attacking talons of the Nevermore, bringing their force to bear against the descent of the flying Grimm and stopping them from striking against Taidan. The hands gripped tightly against clawed feet, stalling the bird's fall and forcing the whiplash back into its body. Another pair of arms instead struck at the wings, each one grabbing harshly at the black limbs to stop them from moving or launching any further waves of deadly feathers.

And the last two moved to pull apart the Nevermore's beak, opening its mouth wide ...

In order for Taidan to spear the Huojian into its mouth and launch a stream of burning hot napalm down its gullet.

---

Gratia Mindaro - Zephyr City

"My use of tabletop nomenclature was adequate, Venetia," she replied, shooting a quick glance at her team leader's expression. It was so utterly futile of the noblewoman to hide the annoyance and irritation; the artificially calm face was always there when Venetia found offense in any of their actions. It was too obvious.

And it did not matter to Gratia Mindaro one single bit if her leader knew nothing of the typical bank's closing hours or if the other girl was simply blind.

"I do hope your shitty noblewoman swagger can be toned down, then," said the Mistralese huntress, "because even fucking Fiordilatte over here is better at bullshit than what you've got."

[Assistant]
Sand Vespa – Capture the Fort

It took Sand some time to get back to a watchtower on the outer limits of the fort.

Had she been detected by a large group of Grimm, or seen by the birds perched on the solar arrays, they would have raised enough of a ruckus that she might have needed to fight off a horde of monsters or relocate farther away from her objective. She did not need to make things even more complicated for herself, so she returned using a roundabout route, using the fortifications that dotted the outpost's surroundings for cover.

The small structure she had taken over was one such building. A small pair of towers connected by a mostly collapsed wall that formed a convenient ramp into the two towers. A cannon was set up on what remained of the wall, rusted beyond use. Upon arriving, Sand warily took in her surroundings, waiting and listening for any sign that Grimm had come back while she had been out exploring.

Once she was satisfied that no monsters would jump out at her, she let out a sigh and climbed into the nearest tower.

After being out in the open in Grimm-infested territory, the cool shade and stone walls surrounding her inside the watchtower were an appreciated comfort. The inside was completely empty, and the only features in the walls were large holes one could look out of.

Sand leaned against the tower wall and looked out through one of the openings, much as a guard would have done in this post. Instead of looking for outside threats to the fortress, however, her gaze was fixed on the looming form of Outpost Jeager in the distance.

If she was going to get inside the fortress with minimum hardships, she needed to consider her options.

There were two main entrances that she had seen, leading in and out of the outpost. Large gates that still held strong after all those years. They had likely been closed by the fort's previous inhabitants and the Grimm had not been able to break them down. She had to praise the builders in that regard. Those doors were made to stand up to hordes of monsters, and stand they had. Because of that, she doubted she would be able to pry those doors open herself, never mind doing so without bringing an army of Grimm down on her.

The land walls might have been in various states of disrepair, but they were still solid enough to ward off land bound intruders. With her particular set of skills, she was sure she would be able to climb them if it came to that, but that would leave her completely exposed to the Grimm roosting in the solar array towers. If she alarmed those birds, the other Grimm in the area would probably grow agitated as well.

The coastal wall however, as she had observed earlier, had almost completely collapsed. On her way to the cliff side, she had seen a group of Beowolves march into the complex from a hole in that wall, accessible through a small footpath. In truth, that could be her best way in, but she had no way of knowing what she would find until she went in. For all she knew, the entrance could lead directly to a Beowolf den.

That left the ship entrance, but she was already convinced that place was a Grimm nest. The only difference from the hole in the wall and that was that she would have a better view of what was ahead as she went in. But that did not account for whatever that noise she had heard had been. It gave her a bad feeling. The idea that someone was living in a place like that was unthinkable, so it could not have been a person singing. Perhaps a Grimm had brushed against a machine inside and some recording had started playing. She had no way of knowing unless she investigated. It seemed more and more likely that she would need to. It was simply too suspicious to be left alone.

She examined her options from several angles before concluding she was simply stalling. It seemed more and more likely that things would go wrong at some point or another, and she would have to face the Grimm of Oupost Jeager. Even if she made it in undetected, she lacked much information regarding the fort's interior, how many Grimm were inside, or how long it would take her to find what she needed. Eventually, things were bound to go south on her.

And then what?

This was not the first time field work as a student research assistant in Atlas had sent her to a dangerous place. She could hold her own in a fight. This was, however, the most dangerous place she had been sent to without any backup. If she got into a tight spot, she had no leeway for screw-ups.

And whose fault is that? Sand reprimanded herself. The truth was, her team would have helped her had she asked, but she had chosen against it. This was supposed to be the last mission she took at Atlas, and as such it felt fitting that she do it on her own. A sort of severing act.

Though now that I'm actually here, whatever I was trying to prove escapes me.

Alas, bravery and recklessness came hand in hand. Hunters were expected to overcome adversity, even when said adversity was created by themselves. Particularly then, she thought.

A piercing howl interrupted her musings. Her eyes narrowed on the looming structure as shadows began appearing on the fort's walls, their answering cries echoing throughout the ruins. Moments after the first howl, a faint tremor began to spread under her feet as a horde of Grimm set out towards the forest. Sand retreated from the opening and pressed herself against the wall, her body tensing as foot-stomps and snarling grew nearer, then faded away, over and over with each passing monster.

It did not take long for the main body of Grimm to pass by, the tremor fading with them. Sand let out a breath she had not realized she had been holding, then approached the window once more. The fortress still stood in the distance, as intimidating as ever. Now, however, a large group of its inhabitants had left.

It was almost too good to be true. If she was planning on infiltrating the building, she could not hope for a better opportunity.

Still, she hesitated. There were few things a Grimm would have reacted to in the manner she had just witnessed. She had a hard time picturing Grimm rushing out like that in response to a territorial scuffle with animals.

Grimm exist for the sole purpose of killing us.

People, then. Though whatever someone could be doing this far out into the wilderness she did not know.

Hunters out in a mission, like her? Perhaps. Was it safe to make that assumption? Could she assume whoever was out there could handle what was coming for them?

Can I afford not to? This will be my best chance. If I try to see what caused the commotion and it's nothing, it might might mean completely scrubbing the mission. Hunters are expected to carry out their objectives. Hunters are expected to overcome adversity. Hunters are expected…

The lone figure crept out of the watchtower and paused, staring in the direction of Outpost Jeager. Then turned and followed after the Grimm.

[User]
Without an argument Ebon charged forward, protecting his teamleader until she was close enough to attack. Things got pretty chaotic when a smoke bomb was released, but it was too late for that gunner. One of Ebon's R-Type (Midnight Eye) already had a bead on him, and now he was on his radar. When the smoke started to fill the room Ebon recalled most of his R-Types back into the Kingdom while he kept his guard up. He was able to detect the gunner moving around, trying to get past Ebon's shield. But little did the gunner know, his shield was just a distraction. By the time the smoke cleared enough for the gunner to make the shot, the Kingdom was planted into the ground where it was, but Ebon was nowhere in sight.

"Peekaboo."

Having sneak up on the gunner, Ebon bashed him in the head with a tire iron from one of the tool boxes. And to make sure the gunner couldn't fight back, Ebon had his Claw R-Type, the only one he didn't put back into the Kingdom (Alongside his Midnight Eye), grab the gun out of the gunner's hand at the same time Ebon hit him. And for extra good measure, Ebon hit him again and again, until the gunner stopped trying to fight back. It added a bit of red to his shirt.


[System]
Race: Elf

Gender: M

Age: 28

Personality: Astador is closed person. He loves to be alone but when it's Come to talk, you can See that he is very helpfull and kind. He not mind helping people for nothing. In battle he is brave but he will not charge right into the enemies. He respect friendship and women. His dream is to became one of the guards of any wealthy noble Family and to met his father he missing.

Bio: Born in the slums of Meche, he doesn't have easy life. His mother was making clothes for the army, and his father was a Worker. After being abandoned at the Age of 6 by his dad, he always wanted to meet him again. At The Age of 12 mother let him embrace the dream, he became one of the recruits in Town Guard. At Age of 17 he officially became one of the Town guards, After a year he discovers a Giant Band of robbers who were terrorising the Town for a long time. At Age of 21 he became Captain of the Guard as he is today.
Weapons:

Equipment:
Helmet

Leather Armor

Leather Pants
Normal Travelling boots
Gloves

 Special Skills:
-Good Halberd Fighter
-Fast Runner because of light Armor and good condition
-"Eagle eye" - Very good vision
 Other: Hello :D

[User]
The land was clam for the most part and the waring lands were planning and sending scouts to oversee what was going on.The king of Bravado was sending for Xavier his most prized warrior to come forth and would be given his next task.Soon enough the young mute man cam into the throne room bowing his head to the king in respect which he did have for his king."Xavier please you do not need to do that..." The jolly looking said looking amused lifting his hand up for Xavier to stand up once more.

Xavier stood up on his feet with a soft child like smile on his face and listened to what his king had to say,The king instructed him to go by himself this time which struck odd to Xavier to track down a Meche spy and bring him him to the king to stand trail.With his task told to him he nodded his head and headed outside,The king leaned into to whisper something to his advisory to keep a eye on Xavier.

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

Meanwhile the king of Escudo had summoned his men to come forth,He had a task for them to capture ALIVE a Bravado solider.This king was a bit more cruel then most and was well known for this,So this would be a strange thing to hear coming form the most brutal king since Rumbustious II of Escudo some forty years ago.

Once his men had came into the room he told his men the person that should be captured,A mute solider but not any solider one of Bravado's highest ranking men named Xavier.He told a few more details like trying to capture a Meche spy whom he wanted alive also so they can either be convinced to join or rot in Escudo jail which would not be very nice.

"I have told you all you need to know now go with haste" He said to his men waving his hand to the door behind them.

[Assistant] Alexander was walking back to Escudo, returning from a day of searching for work. He was obviously tired, spending more than ten hours running around. As he returned to the city, he noticed a commotion. He heard "Xavier" being thrown around often. Xavier? Who is he? Alexander thought to himself. He returned to his estate, removing his armor and changing into more comfortable clothing. Alexander then left and set out to the tavern to get a drink and catch up on some of the latest rumors.

[User]
"Ello Alexander was was your day today?" The barmaid named Jane with a smile on her face,"The usually i would guess?What did the king make ya do today?" She asked him filling up a large mug filled with his favorite mead.The folks around him were talking about a mute solider that was a monster in the battlefield and another rumor of a orc in Escudo that was a exiled prince of his tribe.

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

Meanwhile Xavier was riding on his black horse named "Raknor" riding towards Merche,He knew this would make him a target but knew that Bravado and Meche have a alliance and would not want to break their alliance because of him.He would not want to break this himself he liked the peace and wanted peace to the land and thought his king would be the one to bring peace.

He made his way onto the main road towards Meche thinking of what he would do when he finds the spy,Would he have to fight him he didn't want kill him since the king wanted the spy alive.

[Assistant] Alexander smiled, always happy to see Jane at the tavern. "Ah, yes, The usual indeed." He said, watching her fill the mug. "I was ordered to clear out Blackwater Cave. There was a bear too close to the path to the city." He replied to her. He listened as he heard the gossip going around. That must be Xavier. Alexander thought, piecing the small bits of stories together.

[User]
In Meche nobody cared about the rumors of spy, Especially Astador who Just Wake up. He dressed up and then, as a Captain gave every Guard his Point he will Protect. Astador decided to give Main Gate to himself, because there was rumors that somebody important will enter the Town today. Astador wanted to make Upper Captain proud.

One of the merchants missed his papers and after not letting him in, tryed to hit Astador with a knife, Thankfully for Eagle eye of Astador, he saw the knife before impact, grabbed his Arm and disarmed him. Another situation when death almost looked into his eyes. Caravan leader will not be glad.


[System]
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation/Preference: Bisexual, with an inclination towards men.
Mental Illness/Disorder/Etcetera: Borderline Personality Disorder, Psychosis

Personality: To describe Ezra as abrasive would be the understatement of the century. Inwardly self-destructive and outwardly misanthropic, the people he talks to often find themselves put off by his hostility. He doesn't abide by the rules, he doesn't play fairly, and he certainly doesn't let anyone think they can get one up on him. Ezra considers himself the alpha dog in any situation he's in, but when faced with truly confident or successful people, he can become flustered and defensive, lashing out with increasingly nonsensical insults. Despite that, Ezra is a capable manipulator when he needs to be, and has a knack for controlling people to get what he wants.

He's very often obsessive about the things he does, the things he thinks about, and the people he chooses to follow. If he likes something, chances are he'll let you know it, and if he doesn't, well, he's never been shy about voicing his opinion in that matter as well. Try as he might, he's never really had the best poker face in the world, and it tends to give him away more than not. Ezra is hard to like, much less to love, but underneath the layers of barbed distrust and anger, lies a young man deeply frustrated by his condition.

Appearance: With a height of 5'7", weighing in at around 135 pounds, Ezra isn't exactly the most imposing of figures. It doesn't help that he never stands up straight, either. His posture is terrible; shoulders rolled forward, knees bent, hands inside his pockets. No matter how many hours of sleep he gets a night, it's always fitful, as evident by the dark circles under his watery, blue eyes. There is an unhealthy pallor to his skin, even more so than usual, after a year spent in Remmington. This, combined with his lanky, blonde hair, gives him an overall appearance that would be best described as "washed out". Unless he is fully comfortable in his surroundings, he is usually unsmiling. It's not difficult to notice the way he suspiciously eyes people, watching their every move like a caged animal.

History/Background Info.: Ezra grew up in Bethesda, Maryland, the youngest child to a wealthy businessman and his beautiful wife. The Pinkertons, as one of the primary shipping magnates in North America, were, and continue to be, one of the richest and most influential names from the continent. From the day he was born, Ezra had everything he wanted handed to him on a silver platter. To outsiders, his life was enviable. But behind closed doors, things were quite different.

Ezra's parents were far too busy with work to deal with a child, and so tended to leave him and his siblings in the care of a nanny. This detachment between parent and child, perhaps, was why Ezra's unusual behaviour went undetected. People never seemed to like staying around Ezra for long; his carers had a curious habit of never lasting more than a month at a time - the frequency and intensity of his sometimes self-destructive tantrums driving them away from the Pinkerton estate. Shrugging it off as the unreliability of the working class, Ezra's parents turned a blind eye to these so-called "episodes". As far as they were concerned, there was nothing wrong with him - well, apart from being spoilt rotten, that is.

For years, the behaviour Ezra displayed was simply swept under the rug. After all, it simply wouldn't do to have the prestigious Pinkerton name sullied, would it? Still, it was only a matter of time until things came to a head. Slowly but surely, Ezra's psyche began to turn on him. As with all things, it started out small. Shadows lurking at the edge of his vision, the occasional whisper at the back of his mind. At first, he couldn't tell whether or not it was just his imagination - but these symptoms only worsened as time went by. Soon, Ezra began suffering from full-blown episodes of catatonia, and it was only then that his parents started to worry.

After multiple trips to the psychiatrist, it seemed like they had finally pinned down just what was wrong with Ezra. Diagnosed with BPD and Psychosis, he was sent home with nothing more than a bottle of mood stabilisers and antipsychotics. But then, barely a month later - that was when things spiralled out of control. The night before his eighteenth birthday, something in him snapped. Convinced that his entire family was out to get him, he retrieved a knife from the kitchen, fully intending to carve up everyone in the house before they could do anything to hurt him. Fortunately, however, Ezra's plans were stopped in his tracks when the knife was wrestled away from him by his first target - his father.

Despite their earlier reservations, Ezra's parents finally realised what they had to do. In a situation like this, seeking professional help would no doubt be the best course of action. Thus, after an extensive round of perusal and vetting, they finally settled on Remmington's Angels. Whether or not Mr. and Mrs. Pinkerton were aware of the rumours surrounding the facility is anyone's guess, but two things were for sure - it keeps their son out of the public eye, and their reputation spotless.

Favorites/Interests/Hobbies: Cigarettes. They're one of the only things that calm him down, but he finds it nigh impossible to get his hands on any in Remmington.

Other/Special: Ezra is terrified of dogs. Whilst he isn't going to run screaming when he sees a chihuahua or corgi, anything larger is enough to scare the living daylights out of him.

---

[User]
White.

All Ezra sees is white.

White walls, white floors, white uniforms. In that very moment, he couldn't think of a colour he hated more. This… maddening plainness symbolised everything that was wrong with the place. It was difficult, if not impossible to distinguish where one wall ended, and where another began, giving the impression of an infinite, white abyss. Growing up, Ezra always thought white was the colour of purity, wholeness - everything Remmington's was not, as anyone who took up residence here would realise. Things weren't so bad though, some days, especially when the orderlies left him to his thoughts, and the voices in his head quieted down. But the more he dwelled on the matter, the more he realised what a thinly-veiled lie it was.

He hated this place.

Ezra could barely remember how long he'd been here. A week? A month? A year? It all sounded wrong to him, even as they swirled around in the recesses of his mind. The drugs they pumped him full of did everything except their intended purpose, memories slipping from him like sand through his fingers. Sometimes, Ezra was convinced that it was all just a ploy to keep him docile; placid. After all, how could he plot an escape route when he could barely walk down the corridors without tripping over his own feet? But those thoughts never stayed with him for long, his mind drifting away to other ideas before he could tighten his grasp.

Plodding aimlessly along, Ezra's footsteps were muffled into silence by the linoleum floor. No one had come to bother him today, which was a first - though he couldn't say he was very happy about it either. Ezra had been jonesing for a cigarette ever since this morning, how was he going to get one with nobody around? Of course, he knew better than anyone that smoking was strictly prohibited for patients, but who was going to enforce such a rule when you could simply take advantage of it? Nothing came without a price, though it was one he was willing to pay to stave off withdrawal.

Before he could bump into an orderly, however, Ezra noticed someone out of the corner of his eye. Those wilful shocks of purple hair drew a stirring of recognition out from within him, although he couldn't quite put a name to the face just yet - all he knew was that it started with an 'A'.

"What'd they do to you?"

The words spilt forth from his lips before he could stop them, and he began to approach the girl as if on a tether. Ezra's movements were slow, unsure. It wasn't often that he made conversation with the others in Remmington's, preferring to keep to himself. So why was he starting now? The answer to that was question was unknown, even to him. But maybe, just maybe, this would be the first thing in this place to do him good.

[Assistant]
Alytra looked up upon hearing approaching footsteps, and a male's voice asking her a question, her trance broken. At least she assumed that it was her he was addressing, because no one else was close enough to have heard what he said. She looked up and knew that she had seen his face around, if only a few times, but couldn't guess his name for the life of her. She did notice his pretty eyes and the way that he held himself exerted an air of confidence, despite the feelings of utter paranoia that he must have been experiencing, if his emotions mirrored hers at all.

What haven't they done to me? she thought to herself, letting out an irritated huff of breath. "You know," she stared at him bitterly, "I'm not quite sure that I really know what all they did to me. They stuck another fucking I.V. into me, and then pumped me full of unidentifiable liquids. I'm sure it's just some sort of antidepressant." She wasn't sure at all, but after her stunt earlier she wasn't wanting to cause any more trouble for Remmington and her staff, and she planned to avoid Jason at all costs for the remainder of the evening. "To be honest, I'm not even sure how long I was back there... Do you have any idea?" she inquired of the young man, dazedly. Even in a haze, Alytra had to admit that he was a rather fine looking boy, especially for Remmington's, albeit a bit pale and lifeless-looking.

[User]
Before the girl could answer, Ezra had already moved to sit down, draping himself over his side of the couch like a long-limbed octopus. Much to his amusement, however, he found it quite the fitting metaphor for his current predicament. His legs almost felt like jelly; like he'd collapse and slump into a heap of nothing if he tried to stand up again. There was no joy in the quiet huff of laughter that escaped him next, but… beggars couldn't be choosers, he supposed. In a place like this, one had to be content with any scrap of levity they could find - even if the punchline happened to be at their own expense.

To the untrained eye, Ezra might've looked like he was off with the fairies, but he was paying full attention to his companion's ramblings. That was the thing about Remmington's, he never had any idea whether the other patients were just a figment of his imagination, or whether they were flesh and blood. Each of their individual experiences sounded so utterly relatable to Ezra that sometimes, he found himself convinced that the whole facility was simply a construct of his own overactive thalamus. He remembered the IV needle sliding under his skin, the drugs skittering across the surface of his brain, and he nodded in understanding. But when questioned by the girl on how long she'd been gone, Ezra found himself at a loss.

"...Beats me." His thoroughly unsatisfying answer came only after a long moment of contemplation, syllables slurring and stretching with a peculiar effortfulness. "I'm as out of it as you are, stranger. What's your name?"

[Assistant]
As she replied, Alytra eyed him speculatively. He just sat there, right next to her, plopped his entitled little ass down as if he'd been invited. She hissed internally and glared at him ever so slightly, pulling her knees to her chest and making sure to leave as much space as possible in between her and her surprise guest of the evening. She was pleased, however, to have the chance for conversation with someone else who was fairly normal - or, at least, what she would consider MORE normal than the typical patient or staff member around Remmington's. Also, Alytra was both taken aback and pleased by the fact that the boy seemed to truly understand what she was experiencing. She noticed that he looked a little wobbly, as well.

"Name's Alytra," she muttered, disappointed by the fact that he could shed no more light on her current situation than had already been shed, "And... You are?" she inquired, raising an eyebrow. Relief washed over her that she wasn't the only one to be at a loss when it came to names here. Alytra was distracted briefly as she saw Jason pass by the Lounge out of the corner of her eye, and she could have sworn that she saw him smile one of those menacing smiles... She quickly focused her attention back on the newcomer once he had passed, however, and waited patiently for his reply.

[User]
Ezra might've been delusional, but he wasn't stupid. He could see the subtle curling of the lip, the way her eyes narrowed as he made himself at home on the couch. It was clear - to him, at least - that he wasn't all too welcomed here. Still, it took him every last ounce of willpower in his being to refrain from pointing out that The Lounge was a communal area. If the girl had truly desired to go down the path of the lone wolf, she'd be better off holing up inside a bathroom stall.

As this… 'Alytra' introduced herself, Ezra spent a few moments taking her in. She was pale, but not quite as much as he was, with a peppering of freckles all across her features. Of course, none of that were nearly as interesting as the purple hair - an oasis of colour in this wasteland. A compliment was right there on the tip of his tongue, though he couldn't bring himself to say it. Not just yet, at least. He wasn't about to get all buddy-buddy with some he'd just met. Especially not with someone who glared at him just for taking a seat.

"...Ezra. It's Ezra." The name sounded wrong between his teeth, and he rued the repetition. There was something dodgy about any assertion one felt obliged to make twice. But it had just been so long since anyone in this hellhole addressed him properly, his name beginning to make the strange transition into a dead language. Ezra was disquieted to realise that the staff had ceased to call him anything at all. He didn't know when or how it happened, but one thing was for sure, this was all because of that bitch, Dr. Remmington. No doubt this was another one of her little mind-games, and that toady of hers, Jason, had to be in on it, too.

Speak of the devil… there he was. Ezra would notice that ugly mug anywhere. He'd heard rumours of what Jason did to the other patients, but that was about as deep as it went. Ezra himself hadn't witnessed anything he did firsthand, though he'd certainly had his own run-ins with a separate kind of degenerate - the closeted kind with cigarettes to spare. For a moment, his mind nearly slips, nails digging into his palm to bring himself back to reality. No, no more getting lost in thought. There were other, more important things to deal with. Like the conversation he and Alytra were having, for example.

"So? What're you in here for, then?"


[System]
"Life is a party, so get out there and enjoy it!"
Age: 15

Female

Pansexual

Magic

Bratus- Greenspeaker: Alicia can speak and understand the language of plants. It's fairly complex, meaning that she can get a good deal of information from them.

Bratus- Plant manipulation: Alicia can make plants grow spontaneously and rapidly. It's exactly as you'd expect.

Weaknesses: Her one major weakness is that she must be within ten feet of a plant to communicate or control it.

Catalyst: An oak wand with inlay of silver and unicorn hair.

Other Skills: She's a good artist and likes to draw.

Inventory: None.

Personality: She's fun, upbeat, and positive. Some might even say she's perky to the point of being annoying.

Bio: Alicia always knew about her powers, but never thought too much of them. Not that she thought it was something anyone could do, but she didn't really care about practicing or developing them. Finally, after years of attempting to convince her, her parents managed to get her to sign up for Montagne Academy. Now she's here for her first year.

[User]
Vera Rosenberg

---

---

Vera's Natural Habitat (The Garden)

---

---

"Yes, plants are my magical specialty, but what about yours? We don't get a chance to talk much, despite sharing a dorm."

Well, that was true. Although the girls Vera was sharing a dorm with weren't all that bad, it seemed she wasn't interacting with them as much as she expected. If she was to gain even a little bit of trust, then actually talking to them was her best bet.

And actually remembering their names, too.

"Manipulation over a wide range of plants… That is quite an ability you have there, Alicia. I'm a Bratus mage myself, however… my powers are much more limited."

Before Vera attempted to pull one of the withered plants, her little friend spoke up.

"No, they're still alive. Let me see what I can do. No promises, though."

Another chance to see Alicia's magic in action. Not that it was a bad thing, though. Some insight on her roommate's abilities was always useful. Slowly but gently, her new acquaintance invested all of her magic into the flowers' death bed, attempting to revive them back to good health. It was simple and not too spectacular but it got Vera hooked. If this girl where to practise a bit more, then…

No. As if Vera would worry over such things, right? Doing something like that was pretty troublesome, right?

"I did what I could, and I think they can still be saved. They'll need heavy doses of water and fertilizer, though. Get them back up to speed. And before you say anything, it was no problem. Much better test of my powers than working with healthy plants; that's pretty easy."

"My, such skill for a mage so young," Vera responded, despite their mere one year age gap. "Some people find it much easier to simply control plants, make them flourish. However, creating plants and how fast you can grow them depends solely on the person. In your case…"

Facing Alicia, Vera held out her ringed hand, focusing her magic power into it. It would begin to glow an emerald green before a small magic circle appeared, producing a single rose.

"…if you practise frequently, you'll be able to find it much easier to create plants if necessary. You're already quite talented, Alicia. It would be a shame to see such talent go to waste."

Vera then stepped away to reach for some fertiliser as Alicia had advised. Good thing she always left things where it would serve some use in the future.

"I guess it wouldn't hurt to teach you a few tricks of my own either."

Shit. How did something like that manage to slip out? Looking a bit taken back, Vera's body stiffened.

"That is… if you have time to spare, of course."

Yet another promise Vera would be reluctant to keep. Her mind seemed to say otherwise, however. How was she going to get out of this one?

[Assistant]
Katsumi exhaled a bit. These ignoramus, ridiculous idiots. Wait. She was a mind reader? Katsumi couldn't find much that she liked about mind readers. At all. She quickly attempted to wipe her tainted thoughts from her head as someone came into the room and flipped the library's defense mechanism. She didn't mind the pain, either way, she wasn't even using her powers at the time so it barely even hurt. She shot a bored look at the @Zombehs man and moved once he turned it back off. With that, she snatched the book out of the loud mouth that had came in earlier and smiled at @floodtalon him. "Thank you. However, it doesn't matter if you don't like this specific genre. This is not your library nor is it mine." She smiled kindly at him and put the book back where it belonged. Well, she didn't fully dislike him. He reminded Katsumi of her brother and that was a good thing.

 "Oh, you look like you're pretty strong. Let's fight!"

 Yeah. Not going to be here for that. I do hope they don't do such a thing in the library. As well as my new home, not that these people had bothered to notice or care. Well, no mind I suppose. Katsumi went over to the western architecture area once again. Since he couldn't read, she got him the ones that were pretty much specifically pictures. There were about 5 different books that were focused on images of the interiors. They were pretty good and gave a light to the interiors of western architecture, a large amount of images in each of the books. Katsumi walked over to him and placed the books on a seat that he was near.

 @Ashifili "These are the books focused more on interiors. I hope you find them useful. I'll get out of your way now." She says, a kind smile on her face. With that, she got a seemingly interesting book that she had brought to the school and walked out of the room with a polite bow towards everyone and @TheHangedMan smiling at seal-girl. Katsumi headed over to the bakery that she happened to hear about before. "Boulangerie Le Clair" Katsumi did love sweets after all.

 The place wasn't extremely crowded so she ordered a cup of coffee along with a small pastry. Taking a seat in the back, she took out the book and began to read. The food tasted delicious and the book was... interesting for sure. She'll never know why she has a book on parenting. I suppose I thought it would help me in life...? Well, no mind. Katsumi could read anything and it doesn't matter if it would actually help her in life later or not. She continued to read the book, sipping her coffee from time to time.

[User]
A lesser man would have had a headache from all the bullshit he had to deal with, but Cole? Cole simply let out a sigh and said to the battlesexual oni, "Arenas should be open in a day or two. Book one and let me know when."

Meruin's words were met with a similarly calm, if not slightly bored reply. "So long as you don't cause any trouble and don't tag the place up you can stay. If you want Gall you can call for him yourself."

And, with that, the graduate left the room. After all, it was still a student's dorm, not the actual library.

---

Arata was fine with that, ultimately. He got his books from Katsumi, whom he thanked with a dip of his head. He got another fight from an interesting (yet also boring) person from Cole, whom he smiled at. And…that was basically it. While the greedy loud person went about his introductions, pointing at the seal-pasting midget, Arata took this as his cue to leave as well. Exiting the Library, he juggled the two books in his hand, before bouncing off once more.

Sorcha and her new boy-toy were basically off fucking around in the red-light district or whatever, so the Tower's highest floor WAS an option now, but at the same time…

Yeah, it wasn't the tallest building after all. Setting his sights towards the clocktower of Montagne Academy, the structure that stood above everything else, the oni ran up the side of it, somersaulted upwards to the highest point, and from there, with the wind billowing the pages and the sounds of the school drowned out by the sounds of the sky, the oni focused on visualizing the storage shed.

He focused, he imagined, he thought, until there was not a single spare cell in his brain left to wander off and consider other things.

Three days.

Three days until he can see the worth of this wider world.
@TheHangedMan@sakurasan

[Assistant]
~Meruin Hazy~
Meruin took little notice of the slights against her appearance, only caring that apparently, this man was an oni and the fact that he was here meant he was able to resist the attempts at sealing him. Which meant one of three things: Either he was an exceptionally strong oni, those were exceptionally weak Exorcists, or he was lying. Of course, there was also the fourth option of him being delusional, but Meruin liked to categorize that as the same thing as "lying", even if he was only actually lying to himself.

Therein held the focus of her new-found interest in him: The blood of a powerful Oni was, in fact, one of the few catalysts that she had deduced would allow her research to progress, even if it wasn't her preferred one. The other options were Phoenix and Dragon blood, of which she preferred Phoenix for its vitality, though both were notoriously difficult to find, due to how rare it was to meet either. Oh, there was one last option, but Meruin was loathe to use it; demon blood was powerful but highly unreliable as a catalyst by virtue of how unstable it was. She discovered it had something to do with the inherent nature of demons to be naturally attuned to destruction. While she would save it as a last resort, Meruin was having a rather hard time procuring the means by which to obtain her preferred blood samples, so even if it risked establishing her ritual, she may just have had to use demons blood.

Now, it just so happened two necessary catalysts appeared before her, both of them at the bottom of her list of "what to use for this delicate and easily catastrophic ritual-slash-experiment", and both of them had inklings of personalities she found difficult to communicate with. Chen's impassioned declaration did little to impress her -- claims to an exalted bloodline rarely did, but if he was who he claimed to be, she had to take a moment to think on what to do next.

First, she had to confirm the veracity of their claims. Whether or not that boy was actually an Oni or whether Chen was really the scion of a Demon Lord that governed the avarice of man. How to go about that though? She had a few methods, but a large part of that involved the consent of her intended subject, and she was unsure about whether or not their characters would allow it.

Secondly, she had to ascertain whether they would be willing to cooperate or not. Judging be the supposed-Oni's demeanor, she may have to get ready for a fight she would rather avoid. As for Chen, well, perhaps she would be able to play on his pride. He seemed simple minded that way, but then again, he may also have a hidden intelligence to back up his loud pride.

Meruin committed both their faces to memory. She would see them again, she would make sure of it. For now, she needed to get to work. Besides, the others were already leaving. Before the supposed-Oni left, Meruin said: "That is of course, if you are an Oni. Perhaps you could prove that first before anything else." Hopefully he heard her. She would prefer not to repeat herself on their next meeting.

"Meruin Hazy," she said in simple reply to Chen's imperious finger pointing. "I have books to read. Good day."

"I think this Chen guys kinda hot, and that Katsumi girl reminds me of this one Nippon AV actress I knew back in the day. Girl had nice tits but nooooo personality outside of her fucking . . ."

Meruin tuned out the rest of Heathers speech. Now, where were those books about blood-seals?

@Ashifili

[User] Now it was Alicia's turn to be impressed, and she let out a low whistle. "Manipulating plants that are already there is easy for me, but actually creating them out of thin air? You're already a better mage than I could ever hope to be." Alicia continued, "That said, I will take you up on your offer. Maybe I could teach you a thing or two as well, get you beyond just roses. Meet me in our common room tonight, and we'll have our session. I'll even cook!"


[System]
Normal Appearance:

Alternate form:

Former faction: Autobots

Role: Ground / Fire Support

Weapons and tools:
* Energon Tomahawk
* Neutron Assault Rifle
* 2x Thermo Rocket Launcher

Personality: Turbulence seemingly forever sees himself under the command of someone higher up and that's just fine by him... except when said CO gets themselves deactivated permanently, Turbulence is then quick to refer over to the next ranking officer up on the food chain. The Autobot soldier does not feel okay with the idea of being a leader and the job's heavy responsibilities it comes with. Turbulence would rather be on the frontlines receiving taking orders than giving them.

It's quite possible the transforming gunship suffers from too little self-confidence and more than enough worry; which is unfortunate and unusual given the number of battlefield accommodations Turbulence had unknowingly earned by his previous commanding officers. Turbulence is quite the tactical genius when it counts and is often openly insightful on a lot of topics, especially during the flow of battle where he can quickly coordinate with his fellow Autobots on the ground and air.

History: Surprisingly, Turbulence at one point had nearly joined the Decepticons, being one of the many unhappy mechs professing their frustrations with the corrupt Senate at the time. However, he soon learned that the Decepticon's earliest insurgencies were not what he had in mind as a just cause to get behind and quickly joined the Autobot faction once they emerged. He eventually found himself on the frontlines; somewhere he had been trying to avoid during the first volleys of the conflict.

But it was the battlefield he had probably belonged on in the first place. Turbulence showed an unfamiliar sense of battlefield prowess much of the early Autobot-aligned Cybertonians at the time lacked; being more civilian formed militias than the battle-hardened gladiators and angry mobs of the Decepticons. During one heavy engagement with the Decepticons, Turbulence spent several cycles in his Alt. Mode supporting allied troops, only topping off on Energon and ammunition when he ran nearly dry on both reserves.

Turbulence's current unit face incredible fighting in the defense against a Decepticon counter-attack while much of the Autobot's primary command and elite soldiers would take the war off-world in search of a new energy source as Cybertron's own resources would soon be on the verge to a non-renewable or reversible state. His platoon would soon be demolished and completely scattered due to the hard struggle. Turbulence soon found himself without any targets and even worse, no allies or any command to rally back with and left alone in uninhabited wasteland.

Extras and additional information:
* Has a tendency to remain in Alt. Mode as opposed to his more sapient form.
* Chassis has be modified for easy-accessible maintenance due to a history of damaging engagements.
* Voice - Steve Blum
* Theme - Transformers: War for Cybertron OST - Transport Flight

Relations with other characters:
* Prism - (Coming Soon)
* Sklog - (Coming Soon)
* Nightscream - (Coming Soon)
* Cyclonus - (Coming Soon)

[User]
Turbulence gave a very audible sigh of relief upon seeing the Matrix of Leadership still intact and rightly confined within Optimus Prime. Whatever the fateful circumstances had befallen the Autobots who bravely followed Optimus Prime, they were at least successful in sending away their prize to somewhere that was safe; supposedly safe given recent events. But with Prime now deceased, what good what the Matrix to him? What good was the Matrix to anyone now, especially considering the revered artifact's fading state?

"I..." Turbulence hesitated; he found himself stumped on the very question too, "Well...we can't just leave him here"

Looking where they had come from, he could see the the lab's silhouette within the haze that surrounded the looming structures of Kaon. Around him and Prism were the Junkions, still remaining silent but nonetheless observant of the two Autobots and their privileged quarry, "Especially not here."

Thinking hard about their situation, the only thought or parallel that Turbulence could muster was Iacon. It made sense really, at least to him; Iacon, much like Kaon was to the Decepticons, was their home city. Their turf. But much of the megalopolis had been destroyed by the Decepticon's fierce assaults. Turbulence could not even recall there ever being a sector untouched after the battle was over. That is, if it was truly over, given the skirmishes that he would hear about daily. Even so, it was still the same city Orion Pax was inaugurated into Optimus Prim.

"My only idea would be Iacon. It would be proper to return Prime there," he anxiously suggested, "We may - just may learn what to do afterwards."

[Assistant]
Hearing the heavy thumps on the stairs, Nightscream looked back at the door. It didn't look like Sklog was going to try and extinguish her spark again, making her somewhat more relaxed. "You did keep a flight capable mode, right?" she inquired, seeing some changes to his chassis has happened since she last laid optics on the former dinobot.

Leaping into the air she transformed, engines revving up. "If not hop on, but let's not make a habit of this! And if you say you're afraid of flying you're losing your brawler card!" the seeker said jokingly. Pulling up a navigation widgets, she looked at the map and found the spot where Prime's mobile tomb landed.

Could they send Megatron too? That would be a great relief.

...

I hope you are all right, Brother.

As soon as Sklog decided whether he needed or wanted her help or not, Nightscream blasted off and headed for the Autobots.

[User]
The Junkions all looked around at one another, even Wreck-Gar unable to step forward and say something to them. His face, normally jovial and as carefree as the wind, was unsure. He looked at the dead body of Optimus Prime, a figure that all of the Junkions had seen before at one point or another from hijacking Earth communication waves. He was unsure if he should tell the two Autobots what he and the others had heard. They had believed it to be just convenience that all of the words that they heard were organized in such a way, and didn't actually believe the death of the last Prime when it had reached their ears, but now there was absolute proof, and without his spark, there was no possible way for them to fix him. Of course, they could fix the body and put a new spark in it, but it wouldn't be Prime.

"We'll help, we'll help." Wreck-Gar finally spoke up and looked to Prism and Turbulence. "We'll get that delivery done in thirty minutes or it's on the house." His tone, however, matched the general feeling that all of the Junkions were feeling. He was trying to be happy, or at least not let his true emotions show, but he did feel remorse for the fallen commander all the same.

Prism looked at Optimus Prime almost expectantly. There had to be something, she told herself over and over. Something that Prime himself left for his troops or for the ones still on Cybertron. Kup left the message, that yellow Autobot sent the pod, so what did Prime do? There had to have been something. A message, a tool, anything. Something to tell them what to do and how to continue onward, something telling them exactly what they were going to be up against.

Turbulence was right, though. They should be heading for Iacon so they can take the pod apart and see if the others had left anything else to help Cybertron against Megatron, or whoever had done this to Optimus. They needed to start rebuilding, getting ready for whatever was ahead of them, and see what others remained on cybertron in hopes of them helping out as well.

Slowly, she moved aside, letting the Junkions work to pry the pod out of the ground. She wanted that whole thing. There was no way that she wasn't going to take it apart and flip it inside out to see if anyone had left them anything but the Matrix and Optimus. Maybe they didn't know how bad things were back on Cybertron, maybe they did. If there was anyone still out there, she hoped that they could get in touch soon.

She then turned to Wreck-Gar, looking at him curiously as they watched his bots do their work. "You never told us why you're here, Wreck-Gar. Normally, you lot are pretty territorial of your own space." She smiled and laughed a little. "You aren't thinking of taking over Cybertron, are you?"

"Yep yep, quite the astute one, you are!" He chirped much happier this time. "We thought the sky was fallin' when we saw that thing there fly past us, so we followed is here, yes we did. We come in peace." He smiled back and even laughed at the two.

[Assistant]
Just as Turbulence gave his weary suggestion, the Junkion Wreck-Gar spoke up the rest of the amassed scavengers, volunteering their services in excavating the large pod-coffin of Prime and transporting it to Iacon. The Autobot flyer knew Junkions were a very wonky but fiercely territorial bunch, but to show this much kindness - it was almost too good to be true. Before him or Turbulence could voice their opinion on the matter officially, the Junkions conveniently set about their work in freeing the pod from the crater; a task both Autobots would agree on needing to complete first had they done it themselves, that was assuming of course the Junkions were truer to their original nature.

It was assumed by Turbulence that Prism was on-board with his idea too as she never argued about it once, perhaps mainly because she amusingly queried Wreck-Gar about a hidden agenda for taking over Cybertron to which the Junkion laughed in response. How quaint. "I...appreciate you and your people's dedication - and optimism - in assisting us with this endeavor Wreck-Gar,"

Turbulence paused a moment and gave Prism a glance in order to gain her attention before continuing, "but I must ask is you're really prepared to do this. Iacon is roughly on the other side of the planet. Primus know how much time it'll take to get there."