[System]
---

Origin: Half-Life 1

---

Equipment:
* Main Weapon: Spas-12 Shotgun | 36 Shells
* Secondary Weapon: N/A
* Inventory:
	+ 30 ft Rope x 1
	+ Hand Grenades x 2
	+ Combat Knife x 1
	+ Tactical Radio (Short Range) x 1

Powers and Skills:* Ranged weapons training.
* Basic CQC training.
* Basic survival training.
* Basic first aid training.

Back Story/Bio: PFC Michael Roper is a soldier in the United States Marine Corps' Hazardous Environment Combat Unit (H.E.C.U). He was one of the first soldiers to be deployed at the Black Mesa Incident, and soon confronted the horrifying aliens that had started to pop up all over the facility.

During an intense fire fight, he came face to face with a lanky creature that he hadn't seen before. As he raised his weapon, the creature looked at him and uttered something unintelligible - and then everything went white.

And now he's here, in a land where darkness reigns eternal, and where alien invasions are the least of his problems.

Starting Location: Orik Farmstead

Other Info:

[User]
Character: PFC Michael Roper
Location: Running from Orik Farmstead towards the Olos River
With: No one.

---

It was too much for Michael.

He was a decorated marine, a soldier who had been lavished with the kind of training regimens reserved for the best of the best. During his time in the HECU, he'd seen things - horrible things, the kind of things that twisted one's belief in their own perceptions, and left them with an existential crisis. Nothing had phased him, not really.

Hell, he'd fought an entire race of aliens at Black Mesa. He'd held his dying brothers-in-arms as they perished from wounds left by weaponry so advanced and unreal, it made the entire U.S military look like a third world nation militia. Nevertheless, he'd held the line, he'd stood his ground in the face of the impossible.

But this? Whatever this was, defied it all. Michael was not built for it, and standing his ground seemed like the last bad idea of many bad ideas.

And that's why he was running for his life, like a frightened child.

The stalks of corn, frail and moist with rot, brushed against his arms as he sprinted through them. His equipment felt unusually light, as adrenaline kicked in to power his blind panic to near superhuman levels. He'd look up at the night sky, to see the calm of the full Moon beaming back at him ominously, and then he'd look back to see if he was being followed.

It was too dark to tell, and the sound of his laboured breathing seemed to be drowning everything else out. Whatever the case, he wasn't going to stop until his legs gave up under him, and so he carried on.

The corn came to an end suddenly, and in the darkness, Michael ran straight into an upended plough. The rusted metal caught his shin, and he went down like a sack of shit and with a cry of pain. He wasn't aware of the extent of his injury; he might've cracked the bone for all he cared, as the pain was soon forgotten by another wave of adrenaline. He ran on, a slight limp in his gait, but he didn't dare look back.

Everything was dark, despite the Moon above, and through his gas mask he could barely see a few feet ahead of him. If he didn't stop to get his bearings, then he was going to hurt himself - he knew this, and for once, reason over powered his instincts. He skidded to a halt, went down on one knee and pointed his shotgun in the direction he had come.

He tried to stifle his breathing, and strained his ears to his surroundings. He could hear rushing water nearby - a river maybe - but also something else. A rustling - no - rustlings.

A person's figure burst from the corn with an inhuman howl; Michael watched its silhouette storm forwards with an insect-like gait, its limbs cracking and flinching as it stumbled towards him.

Time to move.

He pulled the trigger, and the figure flew backwards with a growl, and then he took off in the direction of the suspected river. More howls answered the echoing thunder of his shotgun, and Michael was of little doubt that more than just a few of these nightmares were hot on his trail. He was making good time, but his pace was slowing - no doubt thanks to his leg injury - and there was no way of telling whether or not he was keeping ahead of his pursuers.

The darkness didn't let him. He could make out the odd shape of a tree, or a rock, but everything was composed of varying shades of black which made it impossible to discern any landmarks. As far as he was concerned, he may as well have been blindfolded. However, the sound of the river was getting louder.

"WE HUNGER!" something screamed with a guttural tone, and it sounded far too close for comfort. Michael chambered another shell.

He stopped abruptly, turned and fired just as the rotted face of another nightmarish ghoul smashed into his. Michael fell backwards, and rolled down hill - unable to stop himself - until he was launched off the edge of a sharp embankment.

The icy cold water enveloped him, and he immediately fought against a current that threatened to keep him under.

[Assistant]
Character: Arth Bek
Location: Fort Buckmere
With: Nobody

---

Breath, calm. No injures. Sword, gone. Arth thought these things, evaluating it all.
He was in a fortress. There were two beast men were hunting him, and would likely be finding a way into the keep he had barricaded himself into.
Standing the soldier began to take in his surroundings. It was dark, and with the roof intact the only light was that of the moon dimly coming through the stained glass. Despite that, Arth could see that he was on a balcony of some description, overlooking a main hall.
A glimmer, a piece of metal catching the scant amount of light. On the far end of the hall, on the ground, was a blade.
Arth needed a way down, one that didn't involve just jumping. It was a fair distance between the ground and his balcony, and he had had enough falling for one night.
Walking across the wooden overlook he noted that it seemed to go the entire distance of the room, yet he could see no easy way down. No stairs, ramp, or even a ladder to be seen. However, at the far end was something.
A number of crates were stacked up from the ground floor, nearly but not quite reaching the balcony. Arth estimated that he could safely fall to them, and then leap down the rest of the way. If he did however he could see no easy way back up.
The sword however was needef if he was to fight the beasts that hunt him.
Taking the first fall, he heardna sudden howl, and the armored knight tripped, falling the remaining distance to land painfully on the stone tiles. The crates followed, and soon the soldier was half buried in wood and... what seemed to be rotten fruit. Standing and shaking off the foulness Arth took the final steps towards the blade. The sword was short, and dull. It rested inbetween the ribs of a long dead skeleton draped in what was once noble garb.
Pulling the blade from the bones Arth heard another howl, and glass shatter as the largest of the glass windows shattered above the knight, one of the were-beasts leaping through.

[User]
Character: Danielle Mason
Location: Leaving the Church of the Creator and heading elsewhere
With: No one...but herself...

---

youtube.com/watch?v=oxVBVSs7szY

The church had returned to its normal dilapidated state, but the horrors she had witnessed remained fresh in her mind...and always will remain there till her very end.

She stood up, her knees buckling slightly, still the shiver of the adrenaline coursing through her veins, a jolting high that faded away into a debilitating crash as the pain racking her body intensified. God...that thing slung her around something fierce. It was as though every bone in her body was shattered porcelain, a fragile frame that was doing all it could to keep her standing. From head to toe she was covered in a disgusting coat of dry, sticky blood, blood that still smelled so awful, like a corpse left in a dumpster on a hot summer day riddled with worms and maggots.

With tired, bloodshot eyes, she looked around at the church, the perpetual darkness giving way to more cracks of lightning across the dull gray skies of tumultuous storm clouds...now receding to give the ominous, pale light of the full moon beaming through gaps in the plated roof. "I don't understand...." Danielle whispered to herself, feeling nothing more than confused...alone...and lost. Between the visions, the nightmares, the horrible things she had seen....and now this... Nothing made sense to the teen anymore. It was as if the very world she lived in was caving in around her, leaving Dani in nothing more than a deep, dark abyss.

Her mother...or at least the thing that turned into her.... it wasn't real, and yet, Danielle felt it attack her, felt its horrible words infiltrate her ears, damning her to an eternity of Hell filled with guilt, filled with remorse. Felt its claws cleaving into her flesh and leaving her broken and torn. "Why....why is this happening to me?"

Was she going crazy?

Without another thought, the old, rusted doors of the church opened, creaking and groaning amidst a cool breeze that held a more pleasant...but still a foreboding scent. Nevertheless...Danielle was free to go but only from the church. Not...from this nightmare.

To be honest, her first steps outside the church were akin to a baby fawn learning to walk, learning to begin its journey into a strange and bewildering new world. She stumbled in the dark, pulling her jacket closer to combat the ill chilling winds of the unsaintly weather. All around her, on all sides, trees that were withered and dying flanked her, no leaves to cover their naked, thorny branches that bristled like the tendrils of some Lovecraftian cacophony. A dense, unearthly mist shrouded it all in obscurity, glowing a cool, demure shade of blue from the moonlight beaming through the dead canopy.

This place...as if the church alone was creepy enough, this was a whole new level of fear. For a moment or so, she could catch....things...peeking from beyond the thick of the trunks and wilted shrubbery, eyes that gleamed wolfen yellow with hunger, insatiable, ravenous hunger. And worse...her flashlight was dimming ever more, soon a struggle just to keep it lit...for one more minute, one desperate minute Danielle needed its comforting light. "Why am I here?" She wondered aloud while shuffling through the forest, paranoid eyes flickering left and right just to catch frail glimpses of the shadows that were...stalking her.

How she wanted to just...wake up from this nightmare...

[Assistant]
Character: PFC Michael Roper
Location: Olos River (Opposite Church of the Creator)
With: No one.

---

The water was freezing, and its current was strong.

Stronger than him.

Michael fought with all of his might to break through the surface, to fill his near-empty lungs with precious oxygen. His equipment was too heavy though, and his shotgun was a crippling talisman that he was unwilling to surrender. The river pulled him about like a rag doll, throwing him into one rock, and then another, before snagging him against a branch.

He reached out and grabbed at the rotted wood, and unsurprisingly, it snapped with an audible crack. He found himself flailing, grasping for anything that might give him purchase, but with one hand it was nigh impossible.

Let the gun go man, you're going to die.

"No!" he screamed in defiance to his mind's own reasoning, smashing through the water's surface. He tried to breath in, but the freezing liquid had gotten into his gas mask, and he found himself spluttering.

The river continued to carry him, slamming him against another out crop of rocks for good measure. Through his misty/water laden goggles, Michael saw his salvation - a thick log hanging out from over the bank. He reached up with his hand, and caught it. It took a few seconds to shimmy along the length of his saviour, but he was soon able to pull himself from the icy death of the river.

After crawling a few yards, Michael unclasped his mask and helmet, and threw them to one side; he had a long face, with chiselled features and broad green eyes. His head was shaven, though his face was showing a few day's worth of growth.

Laying there on the bank, he took his time catching his breath - the horrors of only minutes before long forgotten.


[System]
Death has yet to grace my presence.

---

Age: 24
Gender: Female
Race: Yokai
Height: 5'7"
Weight: 126 lbs
Blood Type: A
Birthday: June 23rd
Alignment: Neutral Good
Affiliation TBD
Aliases/Titles: Death's Nemesis, Mercy Incarnate, Patron of Soldiers

Personality:
Tamashi is haughty; exceptionally so. She is well aware of her exceptional abilities as a healer, and wouldn't ever miss a chance to cement this fact in other's minds. She doesn't speak much of herself, but rather tries to maintain her capable appearance through action. Tamashi is outwardly polite and graceful, known for her respectful demeanor and fine tastes.

With her unmatched abilities comes an aloofness that few can circumvent. Tamashi enjoys living life with little worry, often appearing fearless to all dangers. Indeed, Tamashi is difficult to scare, facing horrors with an unchanging, pleasant expression, to the point of almost seeming ignorant and innocent to any true danger before her.

Having no energy bounds, Tamashi also presents herself as generous and plentiful. It is rare that she forgoes helping someone in need where her powers are concerned, though it is difficult to know if her eagerness to aid them is born of a desire to impress or out of true sympathy. She is, of course, not above forgoing leaving a dead enemy dead.

Background:
Born to a spiritual yokai family in the heart of Japan, a young Tamashi startled her parents initially with a vast reservoir of magic energy, though her ability to properly use spells at the time was negligible. She grew up clinging to the idea that with such energy, she could potentially cheat death countless times. Being an adored priestess, honored by untold droves of people excited her, and so she drove herself to develop her skills as a healer until the very idea of someone dying shamed her. How could such a thing happen in her presence?

Within the Crimson Sky, Tamashi made a name for herself as the emergency medical responder for those willing to pay her some cash from time to time. The sheer number of injuries she's healed for Chasers has amassed Tamashi a considerable sum of wealth, which she spends quite readily.

Powers:
[Endless Mana] - Passive
Tamashi is known for her divine stores of magical energy, seemingly inexhaustible no matter how drastic the spell she casts. She simply does not tire from spellcasting, nor do her spells degrade in potency.

[Pact of Eternal Servitude] - Active
At the target's discretion, Tamashi can essentially "secure" their very soul and mark it for safe keeping. This allows Tamashi to resurrect any person whose soul she has at will, returning them to life even after obliteration of their physical form at her side. While the prospect of forging such a pact doesn't seem outwardly bad, it does mean that Tamashi has absolute jurisdiction over the individual's life, able to kill them in an instant just as easily as she could heal them.

The actual modem of such an expansive network of healing stems from Tamashi's ability to summon a familiar for every pact made. These familiars, appearing as large foxes bearing weapons, serve as wards against death for individuals who have made a pact with Tamashi. Upon "death", the familiars retrieve the fallen person's soul and return to Tamashi for her to revive them fully. The foxes bear weapons to "fight off Death" as they run back to their priestess... or so the legend goes.

Normally invisible to everyone but the served individual, they can make a short appearance to aid them in battle before returning to the ethereal plane to recover their energy.

This pact differs from her normal ability to resurrect the dead in that those without the pact are left vulnerable when away from her presence. Anyone with the pact may live, no matter where they die in relation to Tamashi. As long as she retains a pact with at least one person, Tamashi herself also receives a guardian familiar, whose strength corresponds to the number of pacts she currently has.

[Thaumaturge of Worlds] - Active
It is well-known that Tamashi can heal and individual from mere scraps of flesh to normal in but seconds, but her true exceptional skills lie in the sheer vastness of her arcane spells, able to heal the wounds of entire groups of people with a wave of her hand. The healing extends not only to living things, but to the soul of inanimate things as well. "Injuries" to buildings, armor, weapons, and the very ground, among other things, can be mended through Tamashi's grace.

Equipment:
Tamashi carries a priest's staff with her, solely for casting magicks.

[User]
Now I lay them down to bed.
I pray to God for flesh that's shed.
And when He comes to wake the dead,
I'll point to Him and scream,
Off with your head.

---

"Shh! Keep quiet or it'll hear us!"

"Are you sure it's even there? I don't see it and I can't sense anything else around…"

"The rumors say it only appears at midnight, right? We'll wait a few more minutes before getting the jump on it."

"But it's half past midnight already!"

"I said keep quiet!"

The gathered trio of Youkai kept their distance from the looming mansion that seemed to glow crimson, the home of a great and terrible monster. One was a raven, the other a frog, and their leader was a wolf. Humanoid in appearance, each of them had powers that could far surpass that of the average Youkai, or so they liked to believe. Of course, none of them seriously considered winning in a fight alone with their target for tonight, the aforementioned monster that was said to roam this very palace.

Ordinarily, all of them would be spending the time scaring each other silly with pranks and stories of Youkai much greater than themselves. But tonight was different for the fourth member of their happy group had been kidnapped and stolen away by the Monster of the Grave. A Youkai so dangerous that no one dared to challenge it, be it Chaser or fellow denizen of the Crimson Sky. But the bond of their friendship held strong and true and they would do anything to save their friend. So now they lay in wait for the time to strike, each of them having a set of binoculars in hand.

"Since I'm obviously the strongest out of all of us, why don't I cause a distraction? That way you guys can have enough time to search for Yoshida," the wolf suggested.

"Are you insane?" the frog put in. "The Monster will tear you apart before we even get the chance!"

"So you're saying that we give up? That we just quit? We can't do that idiot! We have to be strong for Yoshida!"

"Hey, guys? I think one of the lights is turning on. Maybe the Monster is already inside? Er, doesn't that mean that we're practically screwed if we try an invasion now?"

"Oh I don't know about that. The Monster might just be using it as a decoy. Don't you think?"

"Right! Of course! We'll charge in full force-h-hey wait. Who's voice was that?"

All three Youkai turned to see a girl crouching right next to them. She had a matching pair of binoculars with her, scanning the mansion just like them. When she noticed that she was being stared at, she placed the lens down and gave them all a happy wave. The sound of terrified screaming soon pierced the air as they dispersed almost immediately away from the girl.

"R-Run! Abort the mission, abort the mission!"

"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!"

"Fuck, we're all gonna die!"

The girl only laughed at their panicked fleeing, comparing the helpless trio to that of headless chickens. She had pranked this particular group of Youkai in a similar manner twice now and would continue to do it for another five times.

"You kids are no fun," the girl called out, bright smile never leaving her face. "Ah, but the spark of youth never does fizzle out. Maybe I'll pick off the raven next."

Humming to herself, the Monster of the Grave glanced up at the scarlet moon high above. The Crimson Sky was such a beautiful place with such a beautiful color. Summoning a green parasol in her hand, the girl gingerly opened it up and began to trek back to her secluded home. It would serve as a quick rest before her search began anew for the one that interested her the most.

"I wonder how long it'll take for them to realize they were standing on their friend's remains," she mused softly to herself. "Perhaps I'll let dear Yoshida greet them herself next time. Yes, that does sound wonderful."

---

"Hello again Zane," Kusanagi said boredly, not even sparing him a glance from the magazine she was reading. Frankly, his whole mad scientist vibe was a little too cliché for her tastes, not to mention the creepy obsession he seemed to have over their resident, popular, and robotic guest. Her attention was more focused on the article she was reading, the topic discussing the rising popularity of that accursed tea shop down the street.

Some rumors floated around about the shop secretly being owned and run by some top notch ninja vampire maid. It was as ludicrous as it sounded but it was still making more money. Narrowing her eyes, the pawnbroker sighed as she placed the magazine away on her counter. Maybe she should have invested in more than just tea.

"You guys just gonna stand there or are you gonna move us along?" she called out to the people gathered at the mission board. "Pick one already so I can run a business here."

[Assistant]
Ruu didn't know how much time passed, considering the glutton she was probably not much, but in the end it didn't matter as no one was disturbing her anyways. Having finished her meal and leaving a bloody mess behind, the girl was satisfied.

'Now that we're finished, how about returning home for the time being?' Ruu shook her head in denial. "No." Ruu simply denied, while Faust was only talking in her mind, the Youkai girl always communicated back by not giving any fucks and talking out loud.

Of course, the language they used wasn't english japanese at all, but going to great lengths as reverse english, german or wingdings in place of normal english was just silly!

'Bu...' Pushing his voice aside, Ruu ascended onto the top of a building before putting her nose up into the air. There were a lot of different odors, some stronger, some weaker, this place was a goldmine for someone as curious as her and each day there were new things to explore. Ultimately though Ruu decided to go for the smell that was kinda similar to the guy she just ate. It wasn't even that far away, not like it would have been a problem though, considering her means of transport through the shadows in the night. Thus, Ruu headed for two certain individuals.

...

Emerging from the shadow of a wall close to her targets, Ruu could confirm that this was indeed what she was looking for. The male human that Ruu locked her eyes upon smelled similar to the Youkai, though there was a small, but important difference for both of them. While the human had something metallic in his scent, the female Youkai carried a wild and cold note.

Considering Ruu couldn't even fathom that a Youkai and human could get along, Ruu obviously thought they would go at each other any second, thus, the silly Youkai decided to wait and continue stalking and drooling.

[User]
Tamashi puffed her cheeks. Another hard shell to crack, to be sure. She wasn't inclined to simply let Geoff turn her away; she'd get in on the SSS mission if it meant fighting him there and then! Or so she dreamed... The youkai was nowhere near the level of most Chasers in terms of combat, and while her ethereal fox-friend could aid her in that regard, he too ultimately would be unlikely to best anyone. A buzzing in her pocket drew her attention away from the brooding Chaser. Reaching into her short's pocket and retrieving her phone, she was elated to see a text message displayed on the home screen.

'This is Jin. Need healing. On way to Dengeki,' it said. Stuffing the phone back in her pocket she looked up to Geoff and grinned. "Oh well then. Your loss! If you need me though..." she fished out a business card with her number on it," Feel free to seek me out. I'm sure you will, sooner or later." She gave a salute before jogging out of the pawn shop. The severity of Jin's injuries didn't seem to drastic given the simplicity of his text message, but just in case, Tamashi always hurried along. She was surprised far too often with Chaser's ability to remain calm despite being near-death.

Down the street, Tamashi caught sight of her Chaser-in-need. Jin, along with another individual she did not know, were walking together towards her. She ran up to them before surveying their wounds. At her level of skill, it didn't require much to simply heal someone regardless of what their injury was, but she always had to make sure she only applied as much energy as was needed. Over-healing rarely resulted in something pretty. Figuring the gashes and cuts on them were the majority of it all, she snapped her fingers and a flash of white light enveloped both of the Chasers briefly. In an instant, their wounds had vanished and their bodies rejuvenated. The sense of tiredness lingered vaguely, however.

She rested her hand on her hips and spoke up, "Simple enough. What happened to get you two beaten up so hard?" Jin thanked her for her 'troubles' before handing a reasonable sum of cash. With how alive they were without her, she didn't even initially expect a reward, though holding the cold hard cash in her hands nevertheless brightened her eyes.

"No trouble at all my friend."


[System]
Telekinetic Esper

Appearance:
Nickname/Alias: "Mute Girl"
Magic Name: None
Position: None
Faction: None

Seat Number: Four

Nationality: Japanese

Age: 16
Gender: Female
Blood Type: AB Negative

Biography:
"There was a reason
that she was so
romantic about
the moon.
It never asked her
questions or begged
for the answers nor
did she ever have
to prove herself
to it.
It was always just
there- breathing,
shining,
and in ways most
humans can't understand;
listening."

--Christopher Poindexter

Growing up as a child, Kotori had always been told by her mother that she was special. In truth, she never honestly understood why. She, and her mother were alone in this world together, a not-so-dynamic duo living for one another. She in the hopes that one day she could make her mother proud, and her mother in the hopes that one day her daughter would have what she could not.

As a child, she dreamed incessantly, unendingly, searching in her heart and subconscious for the pariah that might bring to fruition her hopes that one day, her mother's life wouldn't be so filled with strife and tribulation. Her daydreams were little more than she and her mother living a life of lavish luxury, free of the day to day crisis of attempting to figure out how that they were going to eat.

Such a crisis suddenly changed when Kotori turned twelve years of age. Her life partook a peculiar change as one day while she dreamt, her pencil, diary, and apple took to orbiting about her. Swirling, rotating like planets orbiting a sun.

Waking from this dream only to have the three items come clattering onto the floor beside her accompanied the crash of a tray of food that her mother brought in. With eyes widened in fear on both parts, her mother fled the apartment. Kotori was left there alone, and not once did she ever see her mother again.

Thanks to the mercy of the Landlord, and a tender heart of the Landord's wife, Kotori managed to work for the two to earn her keep and a rooftop over her head. Learning how to skillfully both clean and cook home-prepared meals and the like. This continued four years longer, each day that passed, she used her newly discovered talent to help in the cleaning. Making herself more controlled in time, even down to precise movements like dusting and mopping with her hands as well as her mind, hoping that her mother might return until one day the Police came and visited her home.

Her mother had taken her own life in the northern Prefecture of Aomori. Leaving what little money she had left to the daughter she had abandoned.

Simultaneously grief stricken and heartbroken, Kotori turned around and used the money as an entry fee into the Hybrid Academy, in the hopes that she might find acceptance there rather than continue to live in secret at home.

Personality: Constant nervousness and hesitation for social interaction are what marks the first tenants of Kotori's personality. Social anxiety and shyness around other students has lead some to believe that she might be mute, even though she gets excellent marks on most of the studies she partakes in. A little bit of a bookworm, in addition to her books used for schoolwork, a Fairy Tale or two might be tucked beneath her arm.

Always a dreamer, she hopes for a day where she just might break free of the bonds that make her so awkward around others in day to day life. Fearful always that something she said could have offended another or driven them away in another measure. Failures to make what she could actually call a friend has only further ingrained these anxieties into her conscience.

Perhaps she believes she is not destined for the life of a socialite; rather, she is destined for the existence of a shut-in.

Likes:
Cooking - Like seriously, cooking, mother of God she can cook.
Using her Powers - for fun, privately. She doesn't like to publicly show off her prowess.
Swimming - Though wearing a swimsuit around classmates might make her explode in embarrassment.
Flying - Using her own power to lift herself into the air and fly!
Fruit - Especially fresh cut Pineapple.
Reading Books - Favorite genres are Mystery, Fantasy and Poetry.
Video Games - Usually of the handheld variant, though she's never owned one of her own.
Music - Especially of the classical genre! Piano music seems to speak to her heart wonderfully so.

Dislikes:
Bugs - In general, especially spiders. She might telekinetically sling someone's foot in the direction of one. Accidentally.
Sports - She is generally not aggressive enough to play them, in any form. If she does anything athletic, it's purely for fun, not for competition.
Bullying - She dealt with it in school when she was younger, now she utterly despises it.
Debating - Again, the lack of a social spine cripples her here.
Parties - Or large gatherings of people in an area for similar sakes, it feels overwhelming and she doesn't know why.

Skills:
Cooking - Above all else, she is an incredible cook. The opening of her bento boxes often tend to make others drool just by the smell of her food.

Music - A commendable piano player, she taught herself over the recent few years after falling in love with Piano music. She plays by ear, not by sheet music. A rather incredible talent nonetheless. She's also a decent singer, but...that would never, ever happen publicly.

Swimmer - She's actually quite good at swimming, but she only does so in the wee hours of the night alone at the school's swimming pool when she feels like it. Too afraid of attracting attention from others, of course.

Ability:
Telekinesis - Level 4 - She's able to move objects with her mind, and quite concisely and skillfully at that. Able to even cause concussive waves of akin to a wall of telekinetic force if she's unable to avoid a fight altogether. Though she has difficulty picking up heavier objects for sustained amounts of time. (A minute or more)

Magic: None!

Theme Song:

Extras: None!

I think I'm done! ^^;

Maybe? I'm not sure.

[User]
Bang Constantine

The white-haired boy was quite fast. He somehow managed to go through Bang's keen sight, though Bang did manage to raise his gloves to block the attacks, straining his arms to propel the attack away from him. They didn't even pick a place to fight yet...

At last, this opponent was not as fast as Baxton. With that said, the person seemed intent on counter-attacking right after he vaulted himself over him for some particular reason. Keeping the little vault move in mind, he shuffled his feet once before preparing his idle stance once more. As long as Akuma struck first, he would not receive that much damage due to his quick reflexes.

After all, he defeated a Normalish who defeated a fair amount of Espers. With that said, he knew he had to remain alert if he wanted to remain standing. Bang decided not to try out Berserker Rage on Akuma, for while it had the potential to instantly end the battle, he did not want to put himself at risk of severely injuring anyone- including himself. Instead, he decided to focus on preparing Exturbo if the battle dragged on.

Bang took a few steps to his side before slowly approaching Akuma.

He then took one large Quagmire Step towards Akuma, stepping right up at his opponent's face, before preparing to strike.

With his bare fists, Bang Constantine instantly sent twenty Phantom Punches at Akuma within two seconds. If the attacks were blocked, he would prepare to use Quagmire again and counter-attack immediately with an uppercut if Akuma decided to attack him instead of backing off for a brief moment to dodge the last of his attacks. If the attacks were not blocked and successfully connected, then Bang would finish the attack with an uppercut anyway.

Exturbo Charge: 1

[Assistant]
Sasaki was not the type of person to take advantage of another's worry or kindness, not now or ever. Perhaps it was from some sort of pride or sense of duty as an individual. But on the other hand, it was very good food, fit for a king if he wanted to be overdramatic about it. "Hmm," Sasaki visibly pondered, hand-to-chin, furrowed brow and the whole shebang. However, as he pondered what his answer was to be, Kotori spoke up about attempting to settle the sparks of the flame of combat erupting behind them. Admittedly, though Sasaki was not the type for combat, at least not from his present-day moral standpoint, the itch to watch two combatants shedding blood on the field of battle was a great one. He'd made the choice to abstain from involving himself in such activities, but... that didn't extend to watching, did it?

...Still, it went against the spirit, so Sasaki figured that even that was off-limits. Even if one of the two combatants was one of Academy City's 18 Level 5 espers. It was probably for the best; Sasaki had hated fighting against thermokinetics of the 'not violating the laws of thermodynamics too much'-type, moreso the pyro variety than than the cryo. Convection was a managable factor, but an absolute bitch to close distance against. Same with telekinetics, but at least their abilities didn't sting as much.

Speaking of telekinetics, there was Kotori. He'd upset her with his knee-jerk reaction, definitely. It wasn't exactly an obscure fact, what with the distinct not-using of her telekinesis to return her ball bearings and that bitten lip. It kind of pissed him off that there wasn't much he could do, considering that explaining was liable to tear down everything he'd worked for. Okay, maybe that was a bit too dramatic a statement, but it was a valid concern for the giant. Cooking seemed to be something the girl was passionate about, so why not agree to her suggestion?

It was totally and utterly selfless, and not at all a flimsy justification for a free, tasty meal ticket. No siree.

But first, he watched the events unfold. Kotori seemed to possess more mental fortitude than he'd given her credit for on first impression.

Sasaki sighed and disposed of his unwashed dishes and tray as the tables' screeching passed through his eardrums and began grating on his nerves. How admirable of her, attempting to do something to alleviate increasing tensions between the two belligerents. It was a futile effort, but admirable nonetheless. She'd at least managed to get them to depart from the cafeteria though. Convenient simply because burning the school building down wasn't exactly a desirable outcome. Once most of the students interested in that sort of thing departed - including Kazeno - it left Kotori and Sasaki, along with the two other students.

"Namashiya-chan?" Sasaki piped up, from behind the timid girl, "I'd like to take you up on that offer." He was silent for another moment. "Ara... Good job, that was refreshingly unexpected of you," he added as a maybe-but-unintentionally-insulting afterthought, "Did you, by any chance, know that the girl was Rank 8 of the new Level 5s? You could have gotten hurt pretty bad, coming between an angry Five and her opponent like that." He spoke of that thought like one would of the weather: completely and utterly nonchalantly.

"Fortunately they kept a..." sunglasses "...cool-head."

-Pants

[User]
"-And Tabasco-Man goes in for A METEOR DRIVE!! we're in for an INTENSE battle here ladies and gentlemen!!"

Taiki was standing on two giant speakers that seemed to have come out of nowhere with a mic in hand. He had comfortably took the role of the announcer riling up the audience for each and every move played in the impromptu match.

A small number of the students watching, however, were more interested in other smaller details.

"Those stereos weren't there before..."

"More importantly, What's powering up this thing!? I don't see any wires."

[Assistant]
Kotori - Not-so-Invisible Songbird

The steel tables that lingered between the two cantankerous children remained just so until the middle-school aged Esper decided to intervene. Quickly, rumors murmured through the cafeteria, and it was soon discerned that he in fact was actually a teacher! Kotori's face paled upon this realization as his gaze affixed upon her briefly. She had been noticed by a faculty member? SHE HAD BEEN NOTICED BY A FACULTY MEMBER?! So much for trying to just skate by in classes and remaining as invisible as possible! Immediate dread filled her mind as she watched the group walking away from the cafeteria.

A final glance from the teacher made her cower as the tables were smoothly placed back to where they belonged; ending the use of her telekinetic ability rather abruptly while the crowd filed out. From what she saw in front of her, almost the entire group had filed out to watch the fight. A slow sigh escaped her, it seemed that the school itself was not much different from daily society.

Everyone loves a good bloody fight. Except for her. Sadly had never been a fan of fighting, and had considered it a waste of time which could be spent aspiring to greater heights. Except for a scant scattering of other students spread throughout the cafeteria, she had assumed that her both table-mates had left as well to observe the inevitable chaos.

That was until a voice piped up behind her.

Visibly jumping in surprise, she spun about in her seat to see the towering Sasaki standing now in front of her. With his acceptance of her offer to a daily breakfast, she nodded quietly as she cleaned up her polished bento box and sharply closed it. Tucking it back into her bag and hefting the leather-bound strap onto her shoulder, Kotori looked up to Sasaki as he casually talked about what she had done. She had known that they were both distinctly powerful people, Esper, Magician, Hybrid or otherwise; however, she didn't know about their rank. Wide-eyed in surprise as her mouth fell slightly agape, she could only stammer a response.

"I-I had n-n-no idea. I only did what I thought was right...t-to try and get the fight to an end or to get it so that other people wouldn't get hurt. Why...why a teacher was allowing that to p-proliferate was beyond me." She put meekly at last, glancing up to the boy before bowing her head to cover her face with her bangs. "S-SO! I...er, other than being able to eat mountains of food, what is your power? Since I s-showed you mine, it's only fair right?"

With a suddenly horrified expression and realizing that she might have been a little too intrusive, her hands raised disarmingly in a frantic waving motion. "But you don't have to if you don't want to! Sorry! I-I think I have class soon. I'll stop being a bother!" Bowing slightly, she hastily strode for the cafeteria's exit. So miserably worried was she that the studious girl didn't realize she had forgotten something.

Instead, she relentlessly bombarded herself in her thoughts as she departed.

You screwed up again! What are you doing? Only ask things if they volunteer to answer your questions, you dolt!

She had left her Grimm Fairytales on the cafeteria table.


[System]
Age: Unknown (Part of the mystery!)

Race: 'Gifted' human

A healthy, radiant complexion and brilliant emerald irises make for a pleasant first-glance at the woman. Though the lack of sun-starved, pale skin may leave one wondering if the woman isn't from some sunbathed region. The smooth accent rolling from her tongue indicates otherwise, though it is difficult to place.

Keen features add to the intensity of her gaze; high cheekbones and a sharp jawline furthering the appearance of ferocity that goes well beyond the woman's underlying wolfish nature.

Raven locks fall to her lower back--assuming the woman has actually let them loose. It's more often she's seen with her hair twisted into a careful knot or a neat ponytail.

The result of ceaseless, almost obsessive, training is difficult to conceal behind any given attire. Her thick frame is undoubtedly more muscle than fat--though it offers a contrast to the sharpness of her visage if one takes the time to note the curvature of her figure.

Few scars are visible on her form, though on the occasion they are it would seem the woman bears very few. Faint lines cross her chest diagonally, similar lines replicating the effect on her upper back. Nicks and slender markings are scattered over her flesh here or there, the lines having grown so faint it is difficult to take note of them at all.

She exudes confidence bordering on a cocky attitude. Every graceful step is taken with a sureness, a sense that the woman is never second-guessing where she's headed; even if it's simply to slip inside a tavern for an evening drink.

Elizabeth has an unusual set of powers. While she is known for her excellence in studying shadow oriented magics, her origin leaves her with the additional benefit of her God's blessing; sharp eyesight, a sensitive sense of smell, and a pair of canines that seem almost out of place though they are relatively small. Her athletic abilities are increased as a result of this blessing. (See history for further explanation!). She has training in acrobatics, necessary medicine (field medic), and maintains the ability to utilize materials to create curious little trinkets littered with magic that produced unusual results.

Throughout Elizbeth's form the glint of steel is noticeable.

- A total of 10 throwing blades rest at her thighs, three strapped to the outer thighs, two to the inner thighs. This protects those vital arteries as well as provides additional weapons!

- Two daggers are sheathed at her hips, carrying a curious, deep violet glow.

- The inside of her boots are lined with much smaller blades, far too small to be adequate weapons in combat. Each was coated with a carefully crafted poison.

- A flintlocke bearing ornate designs, elven in nature, remains holstered toward the back of her belt.

- A bag clearly impacted by magic carries far more than it should.

- Though her pauldrons are small in appearance, clever tinkering has lead to their lining... tubing that connects one pauldron to a canister concealed in the other. When activated it releases a gaseous neurotoxin.

- Hidden beneath her leather bracers is a spring activated blade (Assassin's Creed style yes, sue me!).

South of the primary human Kingdom of Peilos rests the much smaller, secluded Kingdom of Lyceum (lie-see-uhm). The walled in region is tucked away on the southern coast, buried in a sea of pines and everpresent fog. The constant rain makes it a least favorite destination on any tourists lists, and if that didn't scare off the average traveler, the stories very well might. The Lycians (lie-see-ahn) were a separate community of humans, defected from their primary peoples thousands of years prior to the culmination of the great war between the elves and the humans. Though it began as a religious community, the dedication of their priests brought them the gift of their god. He was known simply as 'the great wolf'. If he had a name, no one spoke it, and the rumors that trickled from the once open city were twisted and altered over time. The humans there had been granted exceptional strength and speed, their grace no less benefited from the blessing though they become a brutal foe. The grin of a Lycian offered a showcase of pearly white, deadly teeth. The signature of these "creatures" as they were now deemed, was the brilliant yellow coloration of their eyes.

Elizabeth overtly was nothing particularly special. With a heavy hood to hide her features, none would know she carried any such blessing. Dark leathers constantly adorned her form, the woman's choice of accessory always the glint of steel. She was but a simple traveler if she was allowed to keep that hood on. This comfort did not last.

In the beginning she was known only within the walls of her own home. An accomplished assassin, rising through the heavily corrupted ranks of her city. Having separated themselves with thick stone walls and heavy iron gates, the citizens of the region had become reclusive, and ultimately infighting had begun. Their newfound immortality (or so it is rumored) lead to the realization that none would pass on to allow another to inherit title, to work along the ladder of nobility through not only achievement but the death of others. Assassination was more than a carefully concealed profession within these walls, it was a lifeblood. The very essence of the city. It's recent history was bathed in blood.

It was no surprise then that during the war a curious letter found itself on Elizabeth's desk, a sophisticated loopy script detailing the events of the greater world beyond those gates, and the need for someone as talented as her. She left the safety of her walls, of the towering pines and constant storm clouds, only to find herself ostracized.

While her work in the war had earned her heavy praise from her allies, her enemies were far less keen, and those bright yellow eyes made it clear she was not 'pure' in her humanity. Her home likewise had turned, shutting their gates in the interest of maintaining their reclusive status, naming Elizabeth nothing short of a traitor to their tiny nation.

[User]
Thortan heard the booming echo of Liz's magics colliding with his, the sky darkened as the spells became intertwine. He sensed the promise of death in the new wards, his face locked in a grim position. He walked into his room, beakers filled tables, some filled with fluid, others waiting for use. Along the walls were books filled with every subject imaginable. He got to the last shelf and pulled out several rolls of parchment. Walked back to a semi clear table and began to lay them out. Maps of the surrounding area decorated the scrolls, the dark elf had surveyed the land himself.

"I would hazard a guess that they sent a runner to the king, from this distance it would take a week at a good pace to reach Valsera, maybe two days to condense his main army, a month to return with that many men. I am sure the natural dangers of the forest would prevent them from entering the rear side. But just in case, I must warn the hidden denizens all the same. I should have Liz lay traps through the front of the forest, to slow and thin the men. Lias training will have to accelerate if she is to help more efficiently. And I should begin brewing my potions. There just isn't enough time!!" Thortan flipped the table angrily. Than he threw a ball of darkness at some of his science supplies, the glass shattering as it came into contact with the spell.

"This is ridiculous, if I was at full strength none of this would matter!! The war would be over in days!! I just want this to end." He said to himself. "Is this what you wanted you old crone's?? Just sitting up there, looking in your pensive, weaving your bloody tapestry!! Lap it up while you can, have your fun, we will figure this out. And we won't need your help this time!!" He smashed an other vial in anger, than he sat in his bed, the energy leaving him.

[Assistant] Lia exhaled slowly, her task given to her by Thornton done. She trudged into the house with Aziza by her side. She heard crashed coming from deeper into the house. She let Aziza run ahead to check out the noise, watching from within Aziza's jagged amber eyes as her feline body wound its way down a small staircase. Aziza peered through the bars of the stairs to watch Thornton overcome and heaving himself onto a massive bed. Lia gasped softly, not understanding the depths of emotions she was unwittingly watching. Aziza retreated slowly, knowing without a doubt that Thornton knew Aziza had seen him. She retreated, letting him bring it up should he want to. She would pretend she didn't see this private moment if that's what he desired. Lia began looking for a bedroom to bring her things to. She searched upwards, being drawn to the west tower, up a black spiral staircase to a suite of rooms that were separated by landings on the spiral stair, each landing a different room. The first, a greeting room and foyer. The second landing she came upon was a small dark wood library. Recessed book shelves graced the walls and large windows flooded the space, contrasting with the dark wood to create a cozy reading area. The third landing was a work room, daggers and broadswords dotted the walls along with wicked looking spears and blades she had no names for. Her breath was stolen from her as her eyes ate up the well lit workout space, lined with mirrors and a springy mat floor. In the corner of the room a smaller set of spiral staircase led her to the final floor, a modest bedroom tucked into a loft, brightly colored wall tapestries hung from the ceiling and cascaded down the walls, giving the room a cozy vibrant nod to her home. The pillows on the bed were trimmed with delicate gold and silver thread that shimmied in the light of the room, and the dressers were painted a bright orange gold and blue dizzying patterns sliding over rough hewn wood, a modest dresser with an immodest soul. Vibrancy and love drifted from the room, calling Lia. Aziza bounded onto the bed, her tummy turned upward as she began to wriggle and scratch her back on the bed. Lia's mouth perked up. " You like it too, huh?" Lia put her hand on the panthers belly and pet her strong stomach and sides. Her mind had drifted to Samir briefly, knowing he would love this room when he got here. A noise from the lowest staircase alerted both to someone entering her rooms. The stood still as they waited for the intruder to come further...be them sinister or friend.

[User]
As Liz moved through the house there was a mild interest offered to her surroundings, but the prospect of future fights didn't have her wandering the halls and appreciating the upholstery. Sensitive ears caught the sound of a crash, and honed in on the sound of footsteps and paws padding across the floors. Out of habit the woman faded into the shadows, wrapping the magic around her with little effort. It lasted only a few moments before she was visible once more, her head tilted as she listened to the following yells.

She was still too far to make out every word, but the gist of it was gathered at the least. Cursing the fates was something she could understand, it was something she had done on a number of occasions. It was something she had witnessed even the Queen herself doing. There was a moment she could recall one such occasion, a brief time that Thortan had been on the road and in his absence the battle at hand had shifted. The human village nearest the Queen's sight had been consumed by that rage--decimated.

Liz paused as she neared where Thortan was, momentarily unsure if she wanted to bother him at first. She hovered outside for a moment before rounding the corner and heading through the door. She hadn't gone far, hovering just within the doorway and leaning against the frame. She didn't say anything at first, simply hovering as if she were offering support by nothing more than being present.


[System]
"I'm just following orders. Sorry about this."
Race: Human (hunter)
Age: 24
Elemental Power or Weapons:
Weaknesses: He's only human- he might be able to take a hit better than the average joe, but a fireball spell or something else of sufficient power will put him down as easily as anyone else. Dimitri holds a lot of doubt about his work which can occasionally cause him to hesitate on the field of battle.

Bio: Dimitri comes from a long family line of hunters who's roots can be tracked as far back as the Salem witch trials. What sets the Cromwell family apart from other hunting families however is the fact that they refuse to do their work for the church, God, or any sort of belief in the greater good. The only thing that spurs the Cromwell family on is money. They have ended many family lines all in the name currency, be it coin or cash. Dimitri's father was no exception to this rule, something Dimitri figured out early on when he was pulled into the family business. Throughout his youth Dimitri was armed and trained for the task, even going so far as to go out with his father on hunts for more hands on experience. At first Dimitri's childish innocence and complete trust in his father led him to view the hunts as something that was no different than the hunting of vermin, but as time went on Dimitri began to actually question some of the things he did, though he never could find the will power to actually resist his father's wishes. After moving out, Dimitri took to hunting less and less, only picking up his activity when his father was in town. He would eventually be approached by representatives of the Homeland ruler after being recommended to them by his father.

Personality: A mellow if not somewhat pessimistic fellow, Dimitri tends to be the guy that, if dragged to a party, would much rather stick to a corner and mutter about how he'd rather be at home watching television in his recliner with a cold beer. This isn't to say that Dimitri is timid, rather he's simply not the most sociable of people. This is especially true when it comes to his hunts, as he'll often avoid working with others, especially those that take joy in their actions. Dimitri views witch hunting not as a hobby or duty, but as an unsavory job that he only keeps to make his family happy. Dimitri holds no animosity towards the magically inclined, and while he is still willing to hunt and combat witches and wizards of a violent nature, Dimitri will occasionally turn his head the other way and allow the more lax ones to get away provided that he's met his quota and they agree to stay under the radar.
Appearance:
Other: He keeps a three year old Rhodesian ridgeback named Brutus that he uses to scent track witches and wizards.

[User]
Being too close to actually avoid the fire thrown his way Dimitri was forced to sacrifice a sizable chunk of skin on his right forearm to protect his face and throat from the lethal flames. A few sparks ignited his shirt, forcing the hunter to tear it away to reveal a chiseled body covered with scars from training and hunts alike. The pain in Dimitri's arm was almost too much to bear as his skin blistered and cracked from the extreme heat, he nearly bit his tongue off to avoid screaming out. An animalistic fury welled up in Dimitri's gut with a heat to rival the flames around him, however he quashed it, refusing to give in to his base urges. He was taught better than that, he fought with his brain, not his emotions. Dimitri locked eyes with the molten visage before him, exuding fury that was cold, laser like, and extremely focused to make up for the fact that he hadn't gone savage with rage and pain, "I'll split you open." he hissed coldly.

Dimitri lunged again, holding his breath as he closed the gap between himself and Trick with alarming speed, though leaving enough space to avoid the range of the sword. This was where his weapon shined, it's range allowed Dimitri to control his opponent's central line if he chose to do so. Dimitri crouched and slashed upwards to split the wizard from his groin to his scalp, leaving Trick with precious few options and seconds for a reaction. The weapon continued to crackle and shoot off small arcs of electricity. The burn that such spark would give more than likely would do nothing to the wizard, but even still, getting zapped with electricity wasn't exactly pleasant unless you were a lightning wielder.

[Assistant]
Aidon couldn't bare to see his fellow hunter and friend be burned alive. Damn me if there is another.. he thought. He lunged forward and down onto the molten ground slowing his fall with his dark cloak. As he landed he re extended his Scythe and a burst of dark wind flew around him. Aidon nodded at Dimitri showing him that he was joining the fight. Aidon closed in on the Wizards back "Tred carefully Wizard" He hissed and clenched his jaw swinging his Scythe along his side. He knew that his threat was weak seeing how this Wizard showed power more than any he had seen.

Aidon looked at Dimitri for a sign of attack or strategy at all. As he looked he watched the Wizard closely for him to move.

[User] The hunter dashed toward him, weapon ready. Trick weaved to the side, lightning arcing from the blade to him, stinging. Trick dodged the blade and dashed back in, getting cut across his right arm. He dashed forward, ducking low and slicing upward, his blade hissing as it went. Trick aimed not for the hunter but the weapon he held. His blade soared up, smoke slithering behind as the fire roared. "By fire be purged."

[Assistant] Dimitri smirked as he noticed Aidon join the fray out of the corner of his eye. His relief was short lived as Trick dodged his attack and retaliated with a blow of his own. The cut on his arm burn horribly as the fire served to cauterize his flesh. While this meant that his wounds would not bleed, Dimitri also knew that this meant that there was a high probability of infection if he didn't tend to his arm soon. He snapped back to avoid receiving another blow, but he quickly darted forward again, refusing to give Trick any other openings. This time rather than going for the linear attacks Dimitri went for the unorthodox and frankly downright dirty. Dimitri shot his arm forward, sending the weapon, though his target was not actually flesh. Instead Dimitri stabbed at the open air directly between Trick's legs, then with both hands he yanked upwards sharply to send the flat of the blade into the wizard's groin. Even though he didn't actually attack with the sharp portion of the blade Dimitri knew that what he was doing was petty, cruel, and violated the most sacred of the unspoken rules of male combat, but it was something that needed to be done. "DON'T GIVE HIM AN OPENING!" Dimitri barked to Aidon as he swung he weapon upwards.

[User] "Eye for an eye, ball for a ball, bitch." Trick said through gritted teeth, he kicked upwards the metal reinforced tip raising toward the hunters genitals. His book covered in flame, he kicked with all his might. The boot only inches away from it's target, a pained smile stretched across Trick's face at the thought of the hunters soon to be lost children. The collective pained gasps signified both attacks had hit, leaving both the hunter and Trick dazed and in pain.

[Assistant]
Theodora heard a blast come from the alley as she walked away. She whipped around only to find a hunter chasing after a witch or wizard she couldn't see. Theodora, as she was turning back around she saw a a male figure walk out of the alley way, but he didn't seem hurt. Nooooo... I can't get caught!! Theodora ducked into an underground sub way, only to walk into the middle of what looked like a Wizard and two hunters fighting. Jesus!! They are all over the place!! The girl picked up her cat and stood in the entrance way of the subway, hoping to stay out of sight until the fight ended.
She watched as the fire wizard attacked hunter, seemingly without reason. After awhile, the second hunter disappeared and the larger hunter and the fire wizard continued to fight it out. Theodora watched with horror as the fire wizard attacked ruthlessly, singing the hunter's flesh, creating some harsh burns on the wizards arm. When the fight finally seemed to come to a halt, Theodora rushed out into the subway. "Stop!!" She waved her arm lifting the stray grains of dirt off of the ground. She created a barrier around herself so she could walk through the fire without burning herself. She crossed to the hunter and knelt down beside him.
"Please, let me heal your arm. It will get infected if you don't take care of it properly. A magical wound can more difficult to heal..." She didn't look the hunter in the eye, she only looked at the burn. She reached for the hunter's arm, glancing every now and then at the other hunter, hoping he wouldn't attack her.

[User]
Maxi was walking with the little ice witch when he told her that he would take her in for the night. First thing's first, Maxi needed to make it home so they could have a faster ride. "hey...we will be taking the subway home ok? it's faster than just walking back." the little ice witch nodded as they went down a couple blocks until reaching the entrance towards the station and made their way down.

Something seemed strange when Maxi could smell something burning and kept the girl behind him to check what was going on only to find a fight between two hunters and a wizard....and he caught the sight of another young woman there as well looking to tend to one of the people there. Maxi stared at them, getting the drift and had the notion to want to leave and just walk home instead of finding trouble again. "Look...um...let's just turn and leave ok?" Maxi said to the little ice witch as she nodded as well. Both started to back away.

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

Bastian just came back from bringing in another wizard who was hiding in a church and decided that it would be time to retire for the day after an intense investigation that lasted 20 hours involving the last wizard. Strapping his special crossbow, Bastian walked down the sidewalk as people who recognized what he was, gave his either a dirty look or a smile seeing that the profession he's under were mixed in view at best. Bastian didn't care though because his very purpose were to stop any and all potential threats that wizards and witches bring. Bastian thought about his ultimate goal of capturing Cain, the crime lord who burned his house down, killing his wife and unborn child. That was the very reason he joined in the first place because he had more freedom as a hunter than he did as a police officer worrying about jurisdictions and what laws he could not bend. hunting a wizard allowed him to do whatever the fuck he wanted no matter how cruel and no matter how unreasonable.

Continuing his stroll, Bastian looked out the corner of his eyes to witness some guy jumping out the window and creating a pillar under him. At first, Bastian though that from the long hours of working, he was just seeing things but he gave a double take and realized that the pillar the individual used, disappeared. This gave a confirmation that this is another wizard and should not pass up the opportunity to capture him. It's the organization's motto to attack these magical freaks on sight so...with that. Bastian stopped to observe this man to see what he was going to do but Bastian blended in with the pedestrians so to not alarm the guy and slowly started to draw out his crossbow.

[Assistant]
Tai

Logan watched as the man pulled back his crossbow ever so carefully and he let out a brusque breath, Again? I thought I had dealt with these jerks. He threw up a carbon wall before he could shoot, and he ran behind him, quickly jumping a fence that was in the alleyway and briskly dodging all of the garbage thrown on the ground by bums. He pulled out the prototype "fire extinguisher" and thought about using it. Too overkill. Logan had decided and threw it backward, hoping that the hunter chasing him would trip over it. After doing so he continued sprinting, but hoped it exploded a tiny bit. The destruction would be glorious, you could almost see the fire burning in his eyes. Logan jumped into the air and made a carbon pillar shoot from the ground under him, extending his jump height tremendously. He landed on a rooftop of an apartment and let out a breath. I don't want to deal with this right now. I have to try and fit in, not get noticed like that...

[User] Pain subsiding, Trick stood up as a small girl came over, she was a witch as evident by the magic she used. He glared as she went over to help the hunter. "Stop helping him you whore." Trick roared at he girl, venom dripping from his gaze. The flames on his body changing to a deep, bright red. The heat increasing, "You have made a mistake here young witch, remember this." The fire brightened to a golden bloom, blinding those around. Trick's body crumbled to ash, carried away in the wind; leaving only his mask, half melted on the ground.

[Assistant] Aidon rushed to the hunter and witches side. Still catching his breath from the smoke that was still in the air. "I've never seen anything like him" he said directed toward Dimitri. He looked at the girl and held the hilt of his scythe. "W..why do you chose to help?" He looked at her, studying her for an answer. "Why do you not fear us?" He watched closely then looked over to the pile of ash in where the fire wizard had disappeared. An unsettling feeling came over his body. This young girl was strang indeed.

[User]
Dimitri huffed and wheezed in pain as the fire wizard disappeared in an admittedly impressive theatrical manner. The threat of the wizard having gone, Dimitri stayed rooted on the ground and tried to catch his breath as best he could through the smoke. It took the hunter a few seconds - the kick to the groin had winded him a lot more than he showed- but Dimitri found the strength and presence of mind to avoid blacking out or vomiting, as well as to wave his burn free hand up and down slowly to wordlessly tell Aidon to stand down.

Dimitri coughed and turned his head slightly over his shoulder to spit out a glob of saliva that was streaked with soot, a foul premonition to the ungodly amount of soot he'd be hacking up or sneezing out in the week to come. "Well that sucked ass." Dimitri croaked to Aidon through an exhausted smile as he tried to act as if everything was fine. Dimitri spat once more before he turned his attention to the witch. Dimitri stared at the young woman in puzzled silence, almost as though looking for the answer to a difficult question before he rose his weapon overhead almost as if to bring it down on her. The weapon crackled menacingly for a few moments before going completely silent as Dimitri deactivated it and collapsed it into it's concealed state and brought it to the clip on his belt. Dimitri could practically feel his ancestors rolling in their collective graves as he extended his arm to the witch for a better look, "Your help would be much appreciated. But my friend does have a point; Why would you help me? You know what I am, don't you?".


[System]
Nickname(Optional): Pfft, no.
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Physical Appearance: Of Average build with short dark hair, Neil isn't exactly the most unique specimen. He is fit but not noticeably so. He isn't big at all, but he is also not small. He has a face girls can find cute, but not exactly dreamy. Tanned skin and a ruddy complexion from all of the machine's he's worked on, coupled with the calluses on his hands gives him an experienced look despite the very youthful appearance he has. All in all, other than the twinkling of his eyes and the trademark grin, he is essentially average. He has dark eyes and very dark brown hair, enough to be considered black under most light. He's about 5'10 and 165 pounds.
Clothing: He often wears baggy pants, mostly military cargo. He likes to wear single colored T-Shirts. Usually he wears red.
Personality: Oh, now that is a question. To say Neil is eccentric is...well, that hits the nail on the head. Very good with hand-eye coordination, competent combatant, good engineer, and a daring pilot. But prone to sarcasm, snide remarks, unorthodox behavior, and just good old fashioned explosions. He's a born jokester, though behind his charming yet insufferable demeanor belies a certain intelligence, and to those he enjoys, he does tend to have a big heart.

[User]
Sayeeda jogged through the rain to where a group of men were huddled. Again she was surprised at the ornate uniforms and armor, they looked scared to her but then again they had held these monsters at bay for hours. It wasn't a trival accomplishment. They were an odd group dressed in soaking finery, stained with blood and dirt. One of them stood up and cast back his cloak in what she could only think of as a theatrical gesture. Armor of gold and white enamel gleamed dimly in the rainy afternoon light. Sayeeda instinctively stepped backward, horrified that anyone would annonce themselves so obviousloy on a battlefied but of course the Xenos didn'g have snipers. Still it was a sloppy dangerous habit. The seargent walking behind her evidently thought her hesitation was disrespectful and tried to shove her forward. Sayeeda slammed her elbow back into the mans belly and the soldier let out a choking gasp and feel to his knees.

"Ah a warm welcome to you as well," the armored man declared in a surprsingly rich cultured voice. Behind them the plasma cannon finally exploded with an actinic flash and a sharp boom. Everyone ducked and pieces of hot metal pattered down around them sizzling for a moment before the rain cooled them. Another salvo from the Highlander tore into the enemy. The noble straightened although there was a slightly paniced look developing in his eyes.

"I am Prince Aiden Amalric, heir to the throne of Atrantos," he declared grandly, making a bow only somewhat spoiled by the fact that his cloak of fine white cloth was both sodden and filthy. Aiden was an attractive man in his early thirties with peircing blue eyes and an impecably manicured handlebar mustache. It gave him a dashing rakish look

"I'm uhhh... Captain Junebug Cykali," she responded wondering if she could curtsey or something. The princes mouth compressed into a smile.

"Junebug? There is a story there I'll wager but it can probably wait till we get out of this particular deathtrap."

"Yes," Sayeeda agreed, "Problem is that I can't land my ship in this storm or under a hail of rocks. A few hits to the thruster nozzles and we would be in real trouble. Even if I could we could never get everyone aboard before those things overan us."

[Assistant]
Neil side dodged another rock, the thrusters igniting for a split second to keep the Highlander airborne. A few rocks had even dinged the ship, but Neil had made sure it was on the thick hull plating and nothing fragile. He felt like the rocks were taking the role of hail in the storm, and it fit in a cosmic punishment sort of way. Then again, better up here than down there where the cast-aways and his captain were.

After another minute, he knew this was getting nowhere. Even though he could easily mow down any of the Xenos from up above, it still left spots open, and to his horror some of them seemed to be able to regenerate by fusing together, as if they were single-celled organisms made giant, recreating themselves. "If these things aren't made from bio-engineering, then I'm a police officer." He was glad some of them were a bit too vaporized to attempt regernation, but it was still too much for the ground force.

"Alright, that's it." Neil said, snapping the steering up and telling Lonney to take control once more after sending Lonney a new algorithm.

"Aye sir!"

Taya walked in, almost bumping into Neil before he caught her. "Any news on Junebug?" She asked anxiously. She wasn't as nervous as she had been the past few missions, but then again Neil guessed she had been through a lot since they'd met. "Yep, we're about to save her." Neil told her matter of fact, and passed her into the corridor. She spun around. "Wait, how!?"

"Get to the cargo bay and you'll see!"

She hesitated for a moment, and then when a boulder glanced off the ship and caused a large 'bump' next to her, she squealed and scampered after Neil, wanting to be anywhere in the galaxy but here. She then felt the same way ten fold when she made it to the cargo bay and saw Neil begin to work on the truck.

"What in the hell are you doing!?" She gasped, very certain he had gone insane! Well, even more insane than usual!

"Head to the bay hatch and strap yourself in!" He called from under the jeep. "Open the door when I give the signal."

Taya heaved in breathe, hyperventilating at their situation, but she did as she was told as if her body was being controlled by some unseen force. Vaguely she realized her waking self had drawn within to make sure she didn't start crying, and once she was strapped to one of the wall straps, he stood next to the button that would open the hatch. Neil suddenly slid out, pulling a large item out from under the hover-truck. Taya knew it to be the reactor engine.

Once Neil got to his feet, he unslung his grenade launcher and grabbed the handle to the reactor, his free hand grabbing onto one of the overhanging chains of the 'workshop."

"Now." He ordered, and Taya pressed the button.

The hatch door opening brought a torrent of rain and wind surging into the Highlander, nearly yanking her off her feet and out of her skin. To her surprise, Neil wasn't effected. Or even amused, which was even more surprising. He had complete concentration, and a closer look revealed him wearing some form of head phones? With the time apparently right, Neil let go of the reactor as the Highlander swirled round over the enemy Xenos. The floor inclining slightly to the left and the reactor shot out into the mountain's run.

Almost as if he foresaw the Highlander steadying, Neil stepped calmly forward and let go of the chain, both hands on the grenade launcher. His muzzle followed the descent of the reaction, until the hundred pound steel contraption landed on one of the beasts and crumpled it from the velocity. It had only just begun to pick itself up, lifting the reactor as if in curiosity when a krak grenade struck it squarely.

The resulting explosion rocked the Highlander, Neil only having time to comment. "Sick" before he was flung into the wall. Below, the explosion sent shockwaves down the mountain, crashing into advancing beasts and incinerating most of them within a hundred meter range, giving those further up the mountain a much needed respite. Neil was out cold, blood trickling down his skull from somewhere within his thick mane of hair.

To Taya's surprise, the Highlander then began to lower itself closer and closer to the plateau where the royal soldiers held the line, the cargo hatch lowering to allow passengers. Taya was not there to see Neil placing in the algorithm to do such a thing before they ever made it into the cargo bay...

[User]
The whole peninsular rocked with the concussion as Neil's improvised fusion bomb converted a hundred hectares of rocky coastline to blackening volcanic glass. Dust and debris rained over the beleagured defenders like hail. Sayeeda's helmet had integral sonic dampers which deployed instantly to save her hearing, most of the soldiers and the nobles and retainers weren't so lucky and clutched their ears in stunned amazement. Junebug clicked her helmet over to milimetric radar to cut through the grit.

"Neil! Light up the landing bay lights bright as they will take," she shouted, unnecessarily as her commlink transmitted the message and modulated it to a comfortable volume for recipients. She grabbed the staggered noble and shoved him towards the Highlander. A moment later brilliant white strips of light, visible through the storm of grit, appeared around the entry way. Sayeeda started bodily grabbing soldiers and attendants and shoving them towards the lights. Most managed to stumble under their own power.

"Junebug," Taya's voice came breathlessly in her ear, "I have you patched into the locals communications net..."

"All units withdraw to the lights, fall back while you can troopers!" the shocked troops needed little encouragement but Junebug grabbed those two stunned or too scared to move.

"Seargent, you and your men collect the wounded!" she called to a squad of troops that came jogging out of the storm in fairly good order. The dust was settling rapidly as the rain continued to pelt down. She vaulted up onto a rock and looked out over the expanse of blackened destruction. Shockingly she saw movement at the edges of it. Beyond the range of any thrown rock, but curious she dialed up the magnification on her helmet. Creatures, many blackened and burned by radiation were hurling boulders into the still molten glass. They were making a causeway.

"You have got to be kidding me..." she mouthed in open mouthed awe at such an endeavor. Whatever these things were it was clearly best to leave the planet to them.

"Captain!" a voice shouted behind her. Sayeeda turned to see Aiden Amalric standing behind her. He held a plasma rifle in his hand and an odd metalic cyilinder in the other. SHe was surprised he wasn't cowering aboard the Highlander, he certainly looked pale enough to be going into shock.

"All my men are off the beach, come we must go!" Sayeeda's respect for the noble rose a few notches and, ignoring his outstretched hand vaulted down from the rock to land beside him. Together they ran for the Highlander, booted feet ringing metallic on the gangplank, the ship already beginning to rise into the air on vectored thrust. By the time the hatch had closed the Freighter was skimming the wavetops, out to sea and beyond the range of any further projectiles.

Taya was busily handing out cans of cola and medical supplies to the two dozen survivors. One of the men with millitary training appeared to be setting up an aid station. Dripping wet from the storm and full of adrenaline jitters, Junebug clambered up the latter and into the cockpit. Aiden followed uninvited though Sayeeda made no move to block his way. She stuck her head through the door to look down at her pilot.

"And here I thought MY plan was crazy," she commented with rueful amusement. She turned her head to look at Aiden.

"Also you totally owe us a new fusion bottle."

[Assistant]
Lonney could pilot the ship for a time, but despite his advanced nature, he was still AI. He had been limited by the strict Imperial Artificial Intelligence laws and could not make a jump himself, or give tactical decisions beyond basic maneuvers. Neil needed rest and some time in one of their small medical chambers. One of the courtesans had kissed him on the cheek and a few hailed him as a hero, along with Junebug and Taya. If he'd been awake he would have capitalized on such attention, but it took a few hours for him to regain consciousness and once he did, he had his head bandaged and he stuck to the cockpit until they hit the closest R.I.P. tide.

As Neil set up the proper functions to keep the ship steady and safe within the R.I.P., Prince Alden had taken the time to personally thank Junebug and Taya for the rescue, inviting them along with his senior officer and his closest councilmen and advisor to sit and speak, finally having some time to talk.

"I feel as if we owe you the kingdom as well as our lives," the Councilman said, who introduced himself as Ranald Antioch, former soldier and now aged advisor. He was bald, with a sharp nose and an even sharper beard of grey, though his eyes had not lost any of their luster (and if they had, he would have been quite the fiery youth!). If Junebug recalled, he had been firing into the mass of Xenos as well, at least at the end. "Prince Aiden would not admit it, but he is the only heir to the throne that has any worth."

"Ranald," Amalric scoffed, almost embarrassed to be praised as such in front of Sayeeda. He cleared his throat, and turned to Junebug and Taya, his eyes grateful and his smile informally fetching. "I would hate to admit it, but we were caught with our trousers dropped and you showed up as if sent by Gideon himself. Thank you. Both. We're sorry we're keeping you from your busy schedule of...?"

"We're simple traders~" Taya said breathlessly, her lower half shifting nearly in a wiggle and her eyes large and awestruck as she spoke to the Prince. They were so wide one could see the ship's overhead lights within them, ironically giving them the faux appearance of stars. She had just gotten done helping the last of what she had suspected were refugees until she noticed their uniforms and professions, and once she found out they were entertaining a prince she seemed a tad less mature, though still holding herself together.

"I see," Alden said. "Where to?"

"Headin' to Alpha Centuri, yer Lordship." Lonney pipped in. The senior officer gazed upwards and around as the others did, but he gave a disbelieving laugh. "By the Gods." He uttered, extremely amused at the AI not only advanced enough to answer with a personality, but also with such a rough accent.

"I see there's another tale to learn. You've quite the ship and crew here, Captain Cykali." The Prince commented, obviously impressed.


[System]
Age:
30

Sex:
Female

Race:
Half Dwarf by her mother, half Human (Rivaini) by her father.

Class:
Rogue/Duelist

Appearance:
At first glance, Feri could quite easily pass as a strangely tall Dwarf, or a very short human, what with her mixed blood giving her a strange height for both races. Her figure is less stocky than that of a female Dwarf, with a more defined waist and hips, and being generally slimmer in the arms and legs. However, in human standards, she would be considered as curvaceous and voluptuous. Her face too, is more angular than that of a dwarf, with prominent cheekbones, full lips, and green eyes.

Feri's Rivaini heritage has given her a tanned complexion, lighter than that of her Father, but enough so to indicate she is no pale-skinned Fereldan. Her skin is mostly clear around her face, barring a few freckles across her nose, which will appear when she's been in the sun too long; however, her body is littered with scars of past skirmishes. While most remain minor, the pale scar tissue stands out against her tanned skin and makes them more obvious. Not that she cares, that is – the main one she dislikes is a particularly deep one running down the length of her back. The tissue there is knotted and ugly, but as it's usually hidden by either clothes or her nearly waist-length hair, she doesn't really have issues with it. As for her hair – a black so dark it almost has tinges of blue in it – it is rarely tied up, usually with some strands plaited together to frame her face, or pushed back with a colourful scarf or bandana.

As far as her outfits go, they are as lightweight and durable as any other rogue's. Leather and fur in a theme of browns and blue's; her leather armour consists of a teal cotton undershirt with elbow-length sleeves; a brown corset and leggings along with knee-length leather boots, light leather pauldrons and gauntlets with teal fingerless gloves beneath. She also has a lightweight and tattered brown leather coat, trimed with fur along the neck and shoulders and tied with a blue sash. As for jewellery, she has seven piercings; two in each earlobe, three along the cartilage of her right ear and two along her left; she also wears her father's amulet (Medium in size, gold, and with a sapphire pendant set within), and a woven leather bracelet – a good luck token from Antiva.

Personality:
While generally a pleasant sort of individual, Feri can often come across as brusque and tactless - not caring much for whining or complaining, she prefers the philosophy of "Get over it and fix the issue." There's no point in feeling sad or angry over something you can't control - all it will do is make you feel worse and not help the situation at all. While this advice can often seem overly harsh - especially if the situation is particularly dire - Feri can be compassionate. She feels a driving need to look after the underdog, the weak or the helpless, particularly children. Because of that, she is appreciative of strength and solidarity, particularly in the face of danger.

In terms of the varying politics of the land, Feri tries to keep herself removed from it all - unless it begins to threaten herself or her morals. She will not stand for discrimination against a race or people, particularly if it is over something they cannot control. Sympathy is often shown for elves and Mages for the toils of their lives, unless they've been ungracious towards someone offering aid. While she can understand hesitancy when trusting others, she gets annoyed when someone becomes angry at everyone for what only a small group has done. To her, life is too short to remain angry for all of it.

Backstory:
Work in progress - y'all know it anyhoo!

Weapons
2 shortswords, steel.
Several steel knives of varying length and style hidden about her body.

[User]
She couldn't stop a grin growing on her face as Rannon recounted stories from his childhood. Feri could feel the warmth and nostalgia in his voice, and it was almost infectious. What with how grim he'd looked when thinking about his past since she'd known him, she'd expected some depressing tale of slavery or abuse. A common tale for peasants, and not just in Ferelden. More than a few of the crew of her father's ship were runaways from some horrible life. She wondered then what Rannon would be like on a pirate ship; the image in her mind was both amusing and... rousing. Before her imagination ran away with her, Feri thought up a response for her friend.

"Well, you'd be surprised how much fighting and flower-picking have in common." She responded jokingly, amused at the thought of a tiny version of Rannon throwing punches at village louts while clutching onto daisies. "And it's always nice to stick up for siblings. Nice to have siblings, actually. I remember as soon as I hit the age of 6 I was begging my parents for a little brother or sister. I don't doubt they didn't try plenty of times, but I think a union between a human and dwarf was too rare to yield more than one child." She shrugged idly, gazing into the dregs of her tankard. "I had to make do with the mousers we had on board, but they soon got sick of playing soldiers and darkspawn with me." They also couldn't hold swords, or attack her when she demanded. But the yowling was a pretty good impression of a genlock, though her 6 year old self certainly didn't know that.

"How many siblings do you have then? Did they join the army like you?" She asked, realising that Rannon hadn't mentioned his family at all before now, and certainly hadn't mentioned any brothers or sisters. Glancing down at the panting Mabari, Feri also wondered how long Rannon had had Gideon. Judging by their bond, she could only guess a good few years.

[Assistant]
Rannon gave a small laugh, smiling at her joke and watching her eyes. Below the table his right knee bounced, and he rested his chin on one of his hands as he watched her talk. There was a warmth in his chest and a restlessness to his body, yet at the same time he was comfortable. In essence, by the maker was she cute. Her smile and her exotic eyes, and the curl of her hair waving down her shoulders. Not to mention she was funny and witty.

And of course, those thoughts led to him appreciating how...attractive her form was too, but he did his best to suppress those thoughts. She was both adorable and hot, but she wouldn't ever consider the same about him. Now wasn't the time in any rate, even though he very much would rather think of her than dwell on the burnt remains of his current life.

"You played soldiers and darkspawn?" He asked, letting out a chuckle. "You know if we weren't already doing that more than enough, I wouldn't have minded playing that with you. I love sparring, honestly." It was one reason why he was in the tournament. Or, why he didn't mind being in the tournament. He was there by necessity of their situation of course. It was just, if this was a normal day in normal circumstances, he could see himself joining recreationally too.

"How many siblings do you have then? Did they join the army like you?" She asked. He gave a softer smile this time, and his eyes traveled down to the table. "No, none of them did. Edmund's an armorer's apprentice, and Wilfred I hear is going to follow my mother's business." Rannon said, thinking inwardly. "They're both younger than me. Edmund by 2 years and Wilfred by 4. I haven't been very close to them in awhile, though. Me beating up those people who messed with them was when I was a kid." He breathed in deep. "After I joined the army, I'd only seen them a few times."

He wondered if they were ok. He knew they had to be. Ironbrook wasn't without its outposts and watch, but still... Rannon pushed those thoughts away and focused on the present. His eyes lifted back up to Feri's face. He didn't know what to say next, actually. I know this will sound weird but I like listening to you talk, can you talk more? Yeah like that'll be smooth. He paused, simply looking at her contentedly. "I think I'm kind of too tired to think of anything to say, but I also don't feel like sleeping yet." He said, hoping she caught on instead of thinking he wanted her to leave. It was nice sitting here, honestly.

[User]
The thought of sparring with Rannon, in play or not, brought a flush to Feri's cheeks and a strange warmth to the rest of her body. She almost didn't hear the rest of his conversation about his brothers as her imagination ran wild. She had noticed the way his body had moved on the battle-field, and even in the most deadly, sickening of situations that the Darkspawn brought forth, she had noticed his form. He was so tall and powerful, his movements brutal and merciless, and yet, there remained a dancer's touch about him. The way he wielded his sword, the almost effortless way he pushed his opponents to the ground, and the ever-stoic intensity in his steel eyes. Feri could rightly imagine herself in the place of his foe during a sparring session; grappling with Rannon as they both strove to win, emotions running high despite the harmless nature of their contest. The thought of that situation - the context and the proximity that Feri would have with him - was a certainly provocative (And distracting) one.

Without her knowing, Feri had settled into a relaxed position - arms propped up on the table and hands cupping her chin and keeping her head aloft, an almost dreamy smile resting on her face. Upon realising Rannon had stopped talking, Feri snapped out of her daydream, though she noticed that she'd been doing that a lot lately around him.

"Two brothers? Lucky guy. Though I guess being the oldest of three has it's downsides too. There was a family in Lothering where the eldest was always chasing after their younger sister and brother. Pretty sure the girl was a mage though, so life was always a bit more hectic for them." Feri replied with a light laugh, and then continued talking. Whether Rannon was done speaking because of the subject or... another reason, she didn't mind. The only complaints her mother had had about Feri when the pair had made it to dry land was that she talked and day-dreamed too much. It turned out you could get away with both of those traits aboard a pirate ship when your Father was Captain, but not so much in a quaint village mostly filled with suspicious Ferelden farmers. In short, Feri could talk endlessly, and it was quite refreshing to hear someone was willing to listen rather than being told to shut it.

"Over the years at sea, it wasn't very often that I met someone who was around my age. As a child it didn't bother me so much, because I had my mother, the very unwilling cats, and usually most of the sailors who would play with me when they had the time. A lot of them had children back at wherever their spouses lived on dry land, so I think they enjoyed spending time with a kid when they couldn't see their own. But... when I turned into a teenager, things became far less comfortable." Her pose shifted so that her arms were resting lightly on the tabletop, left hand playing with a woven leather bracelet on her right wrist as a fond smile appeared on her face. Although having moved, Feri remained leaning into the table, so that her face remained only a few inches from Rannon's.

"Most of the crew were strapping, young men at this point. Still several years older than me, but by the time I'd reached 16, I was the same age as the wenches they chased after in every dock we stopped at. Probably fearing the wrath of the Captain, they'd avoid me like the plague. I must admit, I wasn't making things easy what with being at that time in my life - I'd find myself giving lingering looks at the more attractive of the men as they worked on the deck, and I was losing my childish looks more and more as the days went by. At the time, I was irritated at how much they skirted around me. In hindsight, they were being extremely sensible." Feri laughed quietly, shaking her head at her own childish silliness. Although she had looked more womanly at that age, she still had the naive mind of a child.

"But the first man I met that really paid attention to me took my breath away. Keep in mind that it doesn't take much to take an idiotic teenage girl's breath away, especially under the circumstances. It was a reunion, of sorts. Some of the more respectable pirate Captains are friendly with one another, and it's commonplace for them to meet up every couple of years or so. The crews all mingle, the Captains swap war stories, drink to fallen comrades, that kind of thing. There's usually music and dancing, plenty of food, and of course, alcohol. The man in question was one of these Captains. Unusually young, as he'd taken up his father's mantle after his untimely death a few months prior to the reunion. The crew seemed to love him though, so he was the perfect candidate. Made it all the more flattering when he paid special attention to me during that time. Maker, it didn't take much to impress me back then." Feri's laugh was a bit louder this time; this story was one she had told a fair few friends as it usually garnered a couple of laughs, but it suddenly occurred to her that perhaps Rannon didn't want to be hearing about this story. Or would he? She wasn't sure. It felt different, somehow. Not because they hadn't been friends for long, but because she felt that Rannon could be made uncomfortable about hearing her past crushes, rather than just laughing along with her like comrades in the past had. Feri wondered if she had better change the subject, but part of her reasoned that the end of her story would be a comfort to Rannon... if he was feeling what she thought he was feeling, anyway.

"This guy was older than me, though still at an approachable age. An attractive, powerful Captain all interested in the pretty young daughter of Captain Ianto Kobald? Of course, I was overwhelmed. But the thing is, he was an utter bastard. It wasn't obvious at first, especially not to the naive little thing I was back then, but underneath all that charisma and charm, he had some pretty skewed morals. Ones that I didn't exactly approve of." Feri's head dipped forwards slightly towards Rannon, the nearby fires casting shadows across her face and making her green eyes glint all the more brightly in the reflection of the flames. The lighting was making fine work of Rannon's profile too; highlighting his strong features, deepening his scars, and illuminating his grey eyes so that they looked like steel in a forge. It was certainly a face one could easily get lost in, even when one was busy thinking about past flings.

"I suppose the morale of my story is to not give in to emotions so easily. I was lucky I had some wits about me, enough so that I could realise I couldn't have a happy future with this man. After that close call, I dealt with my lack of age-similar comrades much more readily." As she said this, her gaze left his and met with the table, her forefinger idly tracing the scratches on the scarred, wooden surface. "To this day, he's been the second most captivating man I've ever met." Feri's eyes flicked back to Rannon, a knowing smile on her face. "Though nowhere near the kindest."