[System]
Nicknames/Alias/AKA: Dee

Age: 25

Gender: Male

DOB: Hatched beneath the Burrower's Moon, 1993

Occupation: "In between jobs"

Race: Arachne

Hair Color: Dark Brown

Eye Color: Dark Blue

Height and Build: 5'7", lean, and muscular.

Other Appearance: His true form has four smaller, completely pitch-black eyes forming a semicircle above his main pair of eyes (which appear larger, and also are fully black). He has rather fat looking chelicerae, that extend slightly past his chin. His arms, hands and back are covered with a reddish semi-exoskeleton covered with small hairs that match his all too often disheveled mane.

History:
3rd day of the Jumper's Moon, 2018
I stayed with my mother, and sisters when dad first left us. My siblings, and I were five years old at the time. He said he had to go make certain we all remained safe. I said I hated him, and that I hoped he never came back. I was lying to us both, and lucky for me he knew it.

Mom was a traditionalist. Superstitious, and distrustful of other species. She didn't hate humans per se, but she wouldn't have understood how to be friendly with them either. I guess after a few thousand years you get set in your ways. I learned a lot from her though. She taught us all the old lore she knew. She taught us how to survive. And she encouraged my sisters to look after me, the way a human parent might encourage their male spawn to look after their female siblings.

Then when we were almost 14, dad showed up again. He asked us if we wanted to come live among the humans with him since it was almost time for us to go out, and lead our own lives, anyway. Mom encouraged us. She said she never got this chance, and with the world changing these days, it could aid our survival. Circe, and I went. Mara, and Vesta stayed behind.

And for the rest of our legally underage lives, Circe, and I lived with our dad, Thea, his human wife, and Abigail, her daughter from a previous marriage. We both found the humans completely weird at first. And hiding what we were was just Exhausting. But we got used to it all within the first year and a half. Even Dad never shared his true nature with them. And as far as they knew, he worked for a government contracted security firm.

Dad told us that this is how vampires, and several other species live, and thrive. And that He learned about it as a Guardian. And that being a Guardian is how he met mom. We got some crazy stories when Thea and Abigail weren't around. I thought it was cool. But Circe fell in love with the idea. Our girls always love to be where the action is, I guess.

She was training in Nowhere, studying to be a Guardian, when dad disappeared for real. I think she got somebody who was training her at the Gringore Auxiliaries to give up some sensitive information, because she stopped freaking out disturbingly quickly. Like someone had just hit a switch. Bam! Calm and deadly mode: on.

I was coming down there to get her for a trip to see mom, and find out if she knew anything about it when I got a call from her. She told me mom couldn't help us, but she had a lead. But she said I had to stay in town with Thea, and Abigail to make certain they remained safe while she was gone. I said I loved her, and that I hoped she came back with him soon. I wasn't lying this time, and luckily for us both, she knew it.

Family/Relationships:
Arete: Mother. Lives in isolation in the woods of Pennsylvania.
Tadros Calazans: Father. Guardian. Current whereabouts unknown.
Thea Calazans: Human step mother. 41. Lives in Erehwon. Teaches at Cherry Crest Elementary School.
Abigail Calazans: Human step sister. 15. Student at Erehwon High School.
Circe Calazans: Sister. 25. Former Guardian Auxiliary. Currently on a personal quest to find her missing father.
Mara: Sister. 25. Curremt whereabouts unknown.
Vesta: Sister. 25. Current whereabouts unknown.

Other/Extra:

Arete taught her children the Old Arachne Calender of this realm. It comes from an ancient tradition that seems to originate in the Middle East and Mediterranean and correspond roughly to the zodiacal "months".

Aries is The Lover's Moon
Taurus is The Weaver's Moon
Gemini is The Jumper's Moon
Cancer is The Trickster's Moon
Leo is The Climber's Moon
Virgo is The Dancer's Moon
Libra is The Alchemist's Moon
Scorpio is The Flyer's Moon
Sagittarius is The Hatchlng's Moon
Capricorn is The Killer's Moon
Aquarius is The Burrower's Moon
Pisces is The Mimic's Moon

[User]
Whacko

Ivan could tell that this was not a man who would appreciate being lied to, and he was pretty relieved that the detective already figured out he was a vampire. Good, no charades or awkward stories about why he wanted in on the investigation. He preferred things this way, and Ivan casually took a seat in front of the man's desk and took another drag on his cigarette. He was silent for a second, exhaled and savored the tobacco before he spoke.

"I can tell you're a straight shooter so I won't insult you with the psychic bullshit. You've got a good eye, I am a vampire, and I also happen to have very poor self-control. What can I say I eat when I'm bored."  Ivan explained with a glib tone. He snubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray on the desk before leaning back in the chair.

"Don't take this the wrong way, I don't mean it as a threat. I don't want to add to the body count, I'm eight years sober, well in vampire terms at least. Just blood bags for me but I like to keep myself occupied so I don't fall back into old habits. So here I am, offering to help, I mean you've got bodies stacking up, I doubt that lends to the public having much faith in the department as is. These murders are supernatural, no way is some mundane behind this. What do you think is gonna happen to your pal Paul Bunion's gonna fair when he comes up against some vampire or demon? I'm guessing not well. Me, I can hold my own and if not you've got one less unpredictable vampire running around town. Plus, fun fact, vampire's noses are way better than a bloodhound." Ivan rambled, unnervingly chipper as he talked.

 "I've done a lot in my past to make up for and this seems like as good of a place as any to start. I'm not saying you should trust me, I wouldn't, but right now I'm interested in doing something good. I'm also interested in making sure this draw every hunter in hundred miles to the area, I have strong sense of self preservation and would really like to not experience death for a second time. So what'd'ya say, up for a slightly uncomfortable working relationship?" Ivan offered, if the detective said no he'd probably just follow the other guy with the beard around and cheat off his clues. Once Ivan got an idea into his head he could be pretty stubborn and right now hunting down dangerous supernaturals sounded like something fun to do.

[Assistant]
As James got to Coffee Central, he was greeted by the wonderful scent of the elixir of the gods. Not the actual gods, but this wondrous liquid was what powered mundanes and even him on rough days. He managed to abstain from the addictive beverage while on vacation, but now that he was home… well the craving seemed to be back. Fortunately the line was short and he didn't have to wait long to place his order.

 "One Coffee, splash of cream, no sugar please."  He asked, setting a ten on the counter.  "Sorry smallest bill I have."

"That's no problem. That'll be right out. Here's your change. Can I get a name?" The cashier asked.

 "James. Thank you,"  he replies. He stepped away from the counter and walked over towards the side and noticed the newspaper Bartholomew had. Then he overheard someone asking if Tholo was a mechanic. James smirked knowing that Tholo was a great mechanic, having fixed his truck more than a few times. James knew he didn't need to interfere, nor did he feel particularly inclined to, but he still moved closer as he noticed a particular headline. There was another murder while he was away.

 "Another one?"  He scowled, backing away. This was bad. If hunters weren't already looking into the situation in the area, they probably would be soon. He would definitely want to be prepared. Things were dangerous and if the murders weren't solved soon, it was only going to get worse. Much worse. Memories from his first cycle flashes before his eyes, memories of war. He was only pulled out of it when he heard his name being called prompting him to step up to get his coffee. He sat down at a table near Bartholomew and began sipping at his coffee and taking deep breaths to try to slow his heart rate.  'It won't come to war, it won't come to war'  He thought to himself, trying to calm down. He didn't want to see another war first hand, having lost too many friends in World War Two. Granted most of those who died were lost either in Normandy when they stormed the beaches or after he was injured and sent home.

He sipped his coffee again and leaned back. He needed to think and he needed to prepare to make the offering…  'The offering!'  He remembered, somewhat startling himself awake. He needed meats and fruits as well as a certain incense the name of which he was blanking on, but he would recognise the scent. He also wanted mead, but the only place to get good mead was nearly an hour away, and not open yet. He would have to go shopping, but it would have to wait until he dropped his stuff off at his house. He stood and walked toward the door, pausing for a second near Tholo to give a quick hello. He would make his way to his truck soon but he crisp fresh air was nice and he didn't want to head home just yet, especially with the coffee working it's way into his blood. He would just keep walking, maybe go to the park nearby for a bit and think.

[User]
Anya Ngo

---

Interacting with @vietmyke

Anya's face scrunches up as Tony waves the orange flyer in his hands.
"Bud light and Jungle Juice? I'd rather drink bleach." Being a part-time bartender, it was frowned upon to drink on the job. But on the busiest nights, she'll set aside a few draft beers for her to take a few swigs throughout the night.

"I'll go, it'll be good to spend some time out with friends." Something warms up inside of her at the mention of friends. The only thing she is afraid of, however, is that her sister might turn this night into just an errand for Anya. Which is why she has to avoid letting Amari know about the party. She kind of feels like a high schooler that's hiding a house party from their parents.

"Anyhow, I'll sneak a few beers from Tipsy Dragon for you guys. I won't let my friends drink piss water."  Anya waved off as she had a potions class to attend for the day. She was particularly excited to be taking another class of Professor Mordecais'. The class met in the lecture hall at the beginning of class. After a brief talk about the day's chapter, they would move to the potions lab nextdoor. Whenever Anya was at Gringore but not in class, she would be found in the lab experimenting on potions.
Anya had a fixation with the art of potion making ever since she was a little girl. Which was no surprise when mixology came natural to her.

But the biggest thing about potion making for her, was because of DB. To make the drug itself involved ingrediants that required either the death of a certain race or blood. While Amari came to Nowhere specifically to start up her own drug empire, Anya had different intentions. She didn't want to see the suffering of other races for the greed and power the dragons craved. She wanted to change the game... make a version of DB which didn't involve other kinds of blood and sacrifices. It was a big challenge, but if she succeeded...it would put an end to all the blood farms and hunts that DB trade had caused.

[Assistant]
DIMITRI
(Interacting with Bartholomew)

"As a matter of fact, yeah. My truck won't start and I can't see anything wrong with the engine at first glance." Dimitri had all the body language of a straight talker. He had wore a mask of confidence, like many artists did. So he didn't really present any hostility at all. And on top of that, his tone of voice would betray a certain amount of affection for the vehicle in question. That said, he wouldn't smell human to any creature who knew how to tell the difference. He wouldn't smell like a wolf. Or a Vampire. It was an almost human sort of scent. But mingled with that of the small things that crawl, and burrow, and hide in plain sight. The ones too small to be worth noticing by an average mammalian predator. "Any chance you could come take a look at it? I was supposed to drive my sister out to some kind of celebration tonight."

The spiderlike demon was being entirely genuine. Completely oblivious, and ultimately apathetic towards the supernatural aspects the town's inhabitants, he was simply more interested what most might consider mundane concerns. His art, his truck, his "human" social life, these things were more magical to him than was his demonic nature. And if the mechanic would follow, he would lead him out the door, and down the block to where his truck was parked.


[System]
Minus the purple eyes, just make them brown

5'9'' or 175cm

Hearsay: According to his peers, Jeremy keeps to himself a lot, so there are mostly just rumors about him. He gets extremely defensive of people looking at what he's doing on his laptop, leading others to believe he may be doing illegal activities on it. He rarely participates in class, but the times where the professors call out on him, it's shown that he's very knowledgeable. He's nowhere to be seen on campus during the weekends, even though he has a dorm. His roommate, Douglas, usually complains about getting woefully cold during the night when Jeremy sleeps even though the heat works in the dorm. People generally tend to avoid him because of this, but he's sometimes caught looking lonely in front of his laptop.

[User]
Jeremy raised an eyebrow when she didn't instantly greet him as per usual, but instantly understood when he looked at her phone. It was hilarious- the many bugs that came from a Bethesda game on release were always hilarious. A lot of their discussions about Skyrim or Fallout turned into glitch-swapping parties, like an elderly nord who glitched through the floor or absurd model stretching. Needless to say, it earned a laugh from him without any further explanation.

"Really? I'm not sure whether to be surprised or impressed," he commented, staring up at the ceiling with her. She did have a point, though. Between Rena's expertise and Douglas's suggestions, the two had been pretty much everywhere on campus and the surrounding shops. It wasn't that they didn't have money, though, he could guarantee that. She was sighing like something was troubling her, which made him worried. Maybe she's finally had enough of him?

Regardless of his suspicions, he truly wasn't expecting the question that followed all of this. Wanna go to my place? Come to think of it, she did live off campus, but... what? Jeremy wasn't completely dense anymore. Was she implying that they...?

No. He wasn't going to allow himself to get flustered in front of her when he wasn't even certain that was it. She outright said she didn't like him like that, but that was a month ago. Still, maybe she just wanted to show him her gaming setup or something stupid like that... Yeah, that seemed a lot more likely, especially since every mention of dating from her was a joke. She couldn't possibly see him in that way if she still joked like that... right?

Jeremy turned to look at her and nodded after looking like he was deep in thought for a few seconds. "Sure, that sounds good to me," he said, giving her a smile.

[Assistant]
"Cool... cool. Was all Rena responded with, it really wasn't a big deal as she thought, although she did notice his very slight hesitation, or maybe it was all her imagination? An exaggerated grunt accompanied her as she rose from the chair, she then retrieved a red backpack, this time she actually had her belongings on her. "Come along then, it's not far but we still got a walk ahead of us." She waited until Jeremy was ready to move out before leading the way out of the library.

---

Some thirty minutes later the pair arrived at their destination, as Rena said it wasn't too far distance wise, but navigating the city streets make the trip a good deal longer. Rena's home was unsurprisingly an apartment complex it didn't look much, actually in fact it practically was a glorified motel by appearances alone. There were a total of five floors so certainly it wasn't a small building, unfortunately there wasn't a working elevator, the only one was closed for maintenance at the moment. "We have to use the stairs, but hey you're not too out of shape right?" Rena threw the remark over her shoulder, of course with a smile like always.

Rena climbed up to the third floor, a few times glancing back to make sure Jeremy was keeping up and didn't do something stupid like get lost. It wouldn't be wrong to say she was somewhat feeling anxious, much more than usual, but the reason was pretty obvious really. When they arrived on the right floor the girl continued down the hall, a line of doors were on the left and to the right was nothing more than a safety railing that looked out to the city beyond, the only thing that separated them from the ground far below. Rena stopped when she reached the fourth door, room 304.

"Well... here it is, now a fair warning it isn't much, but yeah it's home." Rena fished the keys out of her hoodie pocket, then obviously unlocked the door and opened it. She wasn't wrong, it really wasn't much; a one bathroom and bedroom is tiny after all. Right away the first thing to note is the "lived in" feel of the apartment, the first room was simply a living room with a couch and TV set with a connected kitchen. While the room wasn't a mess, it really wasn't tidy, books were left scattered all over the couch, days old dirty dishes were left on the kitchen counter, and these were just a few examples. Located in the short entry hall there are doors on both sides, the left goes to the bathroom and the right to the bedroom.

Right away Rena ran to the couch and quickly gathered the books to make room. "Sorry for the mess... heh... this was sort of a spur of the moment thing really, and I haven't cleaned up... like at all." Rena laughed only slightly uncomfortably, being a little embarrassed. She threw her bag down next to the newly made stack of books, then was about to make her way to the kitchen. "Make yourself at home, and all that cliche jazz. I'm gonna get us water."

[User]
The trip was to be expected; she did live off-campus after all, and Jeremy still wasn't completely in shape. He certainly was trying, though, but even a long walk such as this still tired him out. Things like this really made him want a car or a bicycle or something, and the stairs leading up to her apartment didn't help either. "Not like I was," he replied back to her with a slight chuckle and smile, pulling his legs up each step.

Rena opened the door after warning it wasn't much. Still, it was probably better than the tiny living space Jeremy had to deal with in the dorms.

Honestly, though, Rena was right. The state of her apartment seemed to be about as carefree as the girl who lived in it at least. Jeremy chuckled, really not sure what else he expected from her as he plopped onto her couch. "Don't worry about it, I'll try not to judge too harshly since this is you we're talking about," he teased. If this would have been a month ago, he would have tried to keep his mouth shut and stay polite around her, but he was sure that Rena would appreciate the joke. She wasn't sensitive like that.

Jeremy did wonder why she brought him here, though. If they wanted to game or something, why not just stay at the library? If they wanted to eat, there were several restaurants around town that were probably better than either of their cooking. Was this a way of her showing him her trust or something? Of course, there was still the possibility that she was up to something else. He didn't entertain that possibility very much because it was still unlikely.

"I hope you didn't bring me over to clean or something," he said with a chuckle, hoping to keep up a lighthearted tone. There was the possibility that she'd actually make him clean due to saying something like that, it was fine with him. The place, while it might have been untidy, wasn't a complete mess. Besides, helping her was something he'd actually want to do anyway.

[Assistant]
"Ha ha..." Rena mocked a laugh in response to his comment. "I'd like to see your dorm sometime then, I can't see you being a paragon of cleanliness yourself." She teased back without missing a beat, strange to think a month ago Jeremy would've instantly clammed up rather than try his hand at beating her wit, oh how things change.

Rena threw open the center most cabinet, due to the unfortunate circumstance of how high the cabinet was installed she had to stand on her very tippy-toes to reach the top shelf; that's where the glasses were stored. For probably the hundredth time Rena questioned why she kept them way up there... especially now where she had to embarrass herself in front of Jeremy of all people. Once she had the glasses in hand, Rena went along as if nothing happened, least of all wanting Jeremy to comment on her height or something... she really wasn't even short.

"Hey, ice or no ice?" She asked him, now she wanted ice but she wasn't quite sure on his ice-drink preferences. Despite whatever response was given she still went over to the freezer to scoop the ice for herself, and Jeremy provided he wanted some. The water she filled their glasses with came straight from the sink, he'll have to deal with the tap water.

Now with their drinks ready, Rena rushed back to the couch to hand Jeremy his before taking her place next to him. At this point she was sort of lost what to say next, she invited him over, but it's not like she had a motive, did she even need one? If anything Rena was beginning to feel nervous again, seriously why did she invite him here again? "So... uh... what do you think of the place... I guess?

Was that all she can manage? Some small talk? With Jeremy?

[User]
Rena's comment to him instantly made him laugh. "I might not be, but Douglas is, and he'd kill me if the dorm wasn't spotless," he admitted with embarrassment. There have been more than a few confrontations with his roommate about leaving dishes out and the like, but it's overall helped him keep a relatively tidy dorm.

Jeremy watched in amusement as Rena struggled to secure a glass from the cabinets that were clearly too high for her. She was the type who would get worked up if her height was commented on, so he kept those thoughts to himself, but maybe it'd just be wiser for her to get a tiny stool she could stand on? She wasn't even that short, so it didn't have to be huge like a stepladder or something. "Either is fine, it's just water," he answered, looking forward to a good drink. He didn't even care if she got water from the tap; those stairs made him thirsty.

Rena hurried back with their drinks and sat next to him. Jeremy instantly took his glass and sipped from it. It wasn't the best water in the world, but hey, water was water, and it was from the sink. It wasn't too surprising for him. What did surprise him, though, was the silence that fell between them afterwards. He could hardly believe that Rena of all people was having trouble thinking of what to say.

She asked him a question; a rather simple one compared to how easily they talked before. "It's pretty good, especially since you don't have to room with someone," the youth admitted before taking another swig of ice water. She was acting incredibly strange... maybe it'd be better to just ask her outright what was wrong instead of waiting for something unexpected to happen. He placed his cup onto the coffee table, deciding to ease into it a little first. "Hey, are you okay? You're acting a little... off..." he pointed out, hoping to get a clear answer. This was Rena he was talking about, though, so that probably wasn't going to happen.

[Assistant]
When Jeremy placed his glass on the table, Rena actually jumped a little at the clatter. It looked like he noticed her off balance demeanor, which made perfect sense the guy for sure knew her well enough. While his comment did bring some unneeded attention to her nervousness, the new found self-consciousness manifested itself as some fidgeting, it did do some good. Rena shook her head, and put on her best possible grin, you know given the circumstances. "Na, don't you worry about me, I'm fine... just uh not used to bringing guests over. Just something a bit unfamiliar, that's all. Yeah, exactly that's what was happening. It's not often she gets to play hostess.

"I know! I got a decent collection of books and whatnot, knowing you're a nerd you can maybe find something in it." Rena actually didn't have an inkling if Jeremy was into books or not, reading simply has never came up in their conversations. "They're right over he-" She swung her arm over to point at the messy pile of books, well that's what she wanted to do. While talking Rena must've misjudged the distance between her and the coffee table, because she ended up knocking Jeremy's glass over... and right onto him.

It took a moment for Rena to register what happened, but when the realization hit home, it hit hard. "Oh God, so sorry... uh, yeah, ha-ang on... uh a towel! She mentally cursed herself for being so damn clumsy, how the hell what she failing so bad today? Maybe she stood up too quickly, maybe she was still nervous, maybe it was just an unfortunate combination of many things, but when Rena tried to stand up her footing failed her, she slid backwards and because it happened so quickly she couldn't stop herself from falling.

Next thing she knew Rena was face down in something wet... still clearly dazed she pushed herself up, and then came to be looking up at Jeremy. It clicked instantly, she fell right onto his lap... onto Jeremy's lap... onto goddamn Jeremy's lap! Rena's face was blushed something fierce, it being a very obvious shade of bright red. It exactly reflected the neigh lethal levels of embarrassment she was experiencing at the moment. What the hell was she supposed to do now!?

[User]
In one hilariously exaggerated movement, Jeremy's drink went flying onto his lap. It felt as though it became a frozen wasteland due to all the ice and stuff, leading him to deeply inhale through his teeth from the shock and sudden change in temperature. He wanted to get up to at least walk the bitter cold away, but Rena moved too quickly. Way too quickly, it seemed, as she, uh... fell down onto him.

She looked up at him with a face now red as a tomato, and Jeremy's confidence suddenly rotted away like one. He was blushing just as hard, if not harder, looking at Rena from such an angle. The thoughts he initially came up with when she offered to take him to her house came shooting back up, and the embarrassment reached record highs. 'Don't just stay there!!' he thought to himself, legitimately worried that he'd begin to embarrass himself even more.

To put it bluntly, Jeremy had never even dated a girl, or even had his first kiss. The dude was twenty. Even against his will, it didn't take much to get his body aroused. What the hell would she even think if she saw such an embarrassing display? She'd call him a disgusting pervert, it'd spread around the school, his freshly-built reputation would be gone before it had time to properly begin! 'Shit... could this get any worse?!' he thought to himself.

It could.

Something shot from Jeremy's hand and impaled itself into the wall across the room.

All of Jeremy's embarrassment instantly transformed into fear and terror. He held up his hand to his face, the chilled air still misting from it. "No..." he muttered to himself, slowly looking at what was sticking out of her wall. It was a sizable spike of ice. Absolutely careless; he got too comfortable around Rena, too close to where he actually cared about what she thought of him, and the sheer embarrassment caused him to lose his waning grip on his magic. The shock made it fire without his concentration. He knew he had to be growing weak, but... To let off such a caliber of magic so carelessly...?!

"Gods... What have I... done..."


[System]
Appearance: Morgan is a thin, petite Caucasian woman with refined features. She has a fair complexion and dark hair that she keeps in a short pixie cut. Her most notable feature are her vivid green eyes.

When working, Morgan carefully hides her identity. She wears dark clothing and a baggy charcoal-gray sweatshirt, with the hood consistently up. A long blond wig hides her hair, while an antique M40 gas mask with tinted lenses keeps her face out of view.
Alias: Damselfly

Age: 31

Gender: Female

Personality: Outwardly, Morgan Duchesne is a serious-minded New York career woman, with an ill-defined office job, fashionable Central Park West apartment, and membership in a biweekly wine club- no one exciting, really. However, her boring and stuffy image is carefully cultivated. She is a greedy and calculating woman, coldly figuring out how best to use the people around her. While she is not without empathy or scruples, and has been known to form genuine relationships, her foremost concern is advancing her own position.

Weakness: Her ability to fly is enabled by the fact that her skeleton is lighter and less dense than the average human. Accordingly, she is highly susceptible to blunt trauma and breaking bones and is generally more on the fragile side.

Powers: Morgan possesses two primary abilities. One, she has four separate wings (clear and veined, like the insect she has named herself after) that she is able to retract into her back. These beat rapidly, affording her great maneuverability in the air and even the ability to hover. She has a top flight speed of around 230 MPH.

Secondly, she has the ability to consciously give off certain pheromones that essentially force the brain not to acknowledge her presence. If these are activated, she can be in the room with someone and they will not see or hear her or any signs of her presence. Prolonged exposure can even cause people to forget her existence. However, cameras or other electronic surveillance detects her with no difficulty, and there is a certain threshold of activity which breaks her "invisibility".

Abilities: Her time as a burglar has given Morgan a set of skills associated with breaking and entering. She is a talented picklock and safecracker, and has enough familiarity with burglar alarms to be able to deactivate or otherwise circumvent them. Additionally, she has a number of criminal contacts (particularly fences) in the New York City area.

Gear: Morgan travels light. When on the job, she typically only carries a few items: a small toolkit, a roll of lockpicks, a small but powerful flashlight, a telescoping baton, and a small caliber pistol for extreme emergencies.

History: Morgan Duchesne was born in Middletown, Ohio, part of a large family with numerous other children. All of the Duchesne children were well taken care of, except Morgan. Concerned teachers at school noted that when the girl showed up to school at all (although Morgan claimed to attend every day), she seemed underfed and dirty. Social services were called, and the baffled elder Duchesnes seemed to be unaware they even had a daughter named Morgan living in their house. Their custody of Morgan was revoked, and the young girl was sent to live with a series of foster families all over the state- all of whom seemed to get slapped with neglect charges. By the time she was sixteen, Morgan had lived with nine separate families in different parts of Ohio, never forming any real bonds with any of them.

Gradually, Morgan became aware of her ability to be unseen and forgotten, and through self-discipline taught herself to control it, to be able to turn it off and on. She would often use it to pocket small items in stores, walking in and out uncontested. As she became more interested in the other sex, occasionally she would use the ability to sneak peeks as well.

As puberty hit her, Morgan's wings eventually grew from her back as well. Learning to fly was an exhilarating, freeing experience. By the time she was eighteen, the system more or less had given up on her, leaving her alone. In order to support herself, she began to steal, relying heavily on her abilities. As her talents grew and she gained more understanding of her powers, her heists became more and more sophisticated. Eventually she settled on a workable and simple MO: she would fly to the balcony or window of a luxury high-rise, either an apartment or hotel. Letting herself in, she would then help herself to cash and valuables, using her ability to be unseen to waltz directly past the occupants. This worked nicely for a while, netting her a respectable fortune. However, Cleveland, Columbus, and Cincinnati only had so much to offer. She needed to go where wealth was associated with how high up you lived, and the New York area fit the bill.

To most, Morgan is only a young and well-to-do career woman, believed in her upper-class social circles to be a lawyer or doctor, something of the sort. However, she only makes these society friends to gain information on which penthouses are worth breaking into and enforce her cover.

Hobbies: Morgan has come to appreciate some of the finer things in life. She enjoys fine wine (often stealing bottles for her own consumption) and art. However, she also enjoys less refined pursuits- an amateur guitarist, she'll relax by playing along to Boston or Steely Dan and she occasionally thinks about joining a classic rock cover band.

Other: United.

[User]
Edgar didn't know he was out of his house and at a carnival, what was the point? He would never feel happy or feel the warmth of people's happiness. Maybe he was just being desperate to try and find some sense of normality in his life. Whatever shred of happiness he would make the Coat of Madness would take it away.

"I never understood why you humans congregate for such joyous events, it's revolting to me. Maybe a little chaos would make this torture more bearable" his coat spoke to him and Edgar got horrible visions what the coat would do to the carnival if wasn't tethered to him..

"Shut up! We're not killing people" he replied with a growl and his anxiety was going up, what if the coat tried to make him create a riot and kill people? It could cause a lot of destruction. He was contemplating whether he should leave the carnival or not when the deadly gang known as the Raiders attacked the place and Edgar felt fear rush over him, he was afraid of what he might do to the gang. But when the gang started hurting people, Edgar knew he couldn't do nothing.

"I need you, give me some of your power" he said to his coat and he heard it give a laugh in his head.

"Finally I will have some victims to drive insane and slaughter, let's get to it" it said in a menacing voice and Edgar went into action. He held out his right hand and a blast of pure energy shot out of it. It flew straight towards the group of gang members and caused a loud explosion. Edgar then drew deeper into the dark powers of the Coat of Madness and created a large spectral demon of horrifying appearance. the creation was not solid and was merely illusion, but it looked extremely real and was making loud roars.

[Assistant]
As the fight raged around her, Morgan continued to intently study the terminal on the massive tank, even as time continued to count down. It had to be fairly simple, right? If Raiders (not known for being Ivy League graduates) were expected to use something like this in the heat of battle, it would have to be.

The interface wasn't terribly intuitive, though. Old-fashioned and clunky, it was clearly cobbled together from some outdated tech. 80s stuff, really. It took her a few moments of fiddling to reach what she wanted.

SUSPEND TIMER? YES/ NO

"Hell yes I want to suspend the timer," Morgan said triumphantly, unheard and unnoticed amid the general chaos. She punched at a few more keys.

ACCESS DENIED

"Damn."

FINGERPRINT AUTHORIZATION REQUIRED

"Damn!"

Maybe this would be a good time to just cut her losses and fly out of here. Morgan wasn't motivated by altruism or heroism, really, just more a feeling that someone had to do something. She was tempted to just extend her wings, even beginning to flex the muscles required to extend them from her back.

But then serendipity reared its head.

The horrific, towering demon abruptly appeared in the midst of the crowd, making an unusual day even stranger. Long story short, the end result was one of the Raiders backpedaling in abject terror, firing clearly ineffective rifle rounds at the abomination.

Right towards Morgan.

"You just might do," she mused, reaching into her purse and closing her hand on the familiar weight of the telescoping baton. Sure, it was a bit of an old-fashioned weapon, but it did the trick nicely. She knew that physically attacking someone was too obvious even for her natural camouflage to disguise, so she had to make this decisive.

With a practiced flick of the wrist, she deployed the baton, and then went to work. Two quick strikes- wrist and elbow, forcing the man to drop his weapon. A third to the temple, just behind his gas mask, and a fourth again just to be sure. The Raider went limp, crumbling like empty clothing. Morgan knew that now she was visible and had to act quickly. She quickly tore the mask from the man, fitted it over her own face- both to protect her identity and for protection should the gas be released despite her efforts.

Then she grabbed the man's limp hand and pressed a thumb up against the terminal, hoping he would have sufficient access to curb this madness.

[User]
Collab between datadogie's Sif/Mack and CLIW's Kat

In all of the chaos (bullets had passed through Katrina's consciousness at least twice now), the woman noticed that one of the cars parked to hole everyone up in the carnival was unguarded. She had a quick peek inside and felt a small spark of surprise: the key was in the ignition. She glanced outside. A group of Raiders were moving toward the stage, where people were working to disarm the gas canister and get answers out of the Raiders' leader. They'd be outnumbered if no one did anything about them.
Her physical body opened its eyes as her consciousness reunited with it. She strained to look outside the tent and make sure the way was clear as it more or less had been during the projection, took a deep breath and started to move toward the empty car.

Jennifer bit her lip as she got onto the stage. The area was chaos, and she had to focus to not panic at all of the gunfire. Swerving through the crowds had spent a bit of time, and by the time she was approaching the tank there were others already on the stage. Captain and someone else were interrogating the man, and a woman with a gas mask was attempting to get a fingerprint of a Raider onto the terminal of the tank.
"That's not going to work," Mack says into Jennifer's ears, as the latter jogs quickly to the tank. Jennifer repeats what Mack says. "That's not going to work," Jennifer pants, sliding onto her knees, her tablet sliding out of her pocket. Her eyes widen, and she quickly turns around, grabbing her tablet off the ground, cradling it in her hands. "You've got to get a harness for that thing," Mack says, as Jennifer lets out a breath. Not taking a glance at the gas-mask woman, Jennifer speaks to her. "It's a regular Raider. He won't have sufficient permissions to edit the parameters of a device that is programmed to respond to a higher official." She taps one of the top corners of the tablet against the terminal, which connects the two wirelessly and electronically. "I'm not sure I could turn it off, there are too many options, but I may be able to change the parameters to allow those of a lower ranking standard to change the options of the device." Jennifer taps on her tablet, and then a few times on the terminal, and then she continues to fiddle with her tablet, Mack helping her along the way.

The door was unlocked, which was a huge relief. Ducking below a spray of hot lead, Katrina climbed into the driver's seat. "I'm going to lose my license," she whispered to herself, and turned the key. Someone shouted at her to stop, but of course she ignored it. She started to drive, got the car pointed toward the group of Raiders running toward and shooting at the stage, who apparently hadn't noticed Katrina. It was time to take care of business. She stepped on the gas.
Her aim had been true. The sound of bones shattering and crunching under tires made her nauseous, and before she could do anything--it was all so fast--she had driven straight into the stage. She rocked with the impact and undid her seatbelt, panting. Shakily, she opened the car door; this took a bit of elbow grease because of the damage done to the front of the car. She stepped out of the vehicle and put her hand on the handle of her knife, which she planned to use in case any of the bastards had survived the impact.

The sound of a crash made Jennifer jump just as she was going to finish. She looks around, and sees that a car had driven straight through a crowd of Raiders, a stray few remaining from where the car had assaulted them. Jennifer blinks as the driver exits the car, and exhales as the person looks - from her angle - unharmed. Though, it takes Mack saying, "Hurry up, that thing is still timed!" for her to turn and press the last few buttons on her tablet. "There. It's set to change the settings at his fingerprint," Jennifer says, beckoning to the man's finger.

[Assistant]
Morgan nearly jumped out of her skin when the other woman ran over with a tablet. Her wings almost came out involuntarily, but she caught herself just in time. It'd be a shame to shred her top, at any rate.

She relaxed, though, when the other woman began working to help her. "Relaxed" was a relative term, considering the two of them were trying to disarm a deadly chemical weapon together, but you have to take what you can get in this situations. Morgan took a moment to glance over the melee. The Raiders seemed to be getting the worst of it, by far- here a car mowed down a group of them, there more were cut down by heavy bullets.

And all the while the countdown ticked on unabated.

After what seemed like an eternity, punctuated by gunshots and the cries of wounded, the newcomer announced she had reconfigured the timer to accept the captive's fingerprint. Unwilling to speak and knowing the mask would muffle her voice, Morgan flashed a thumbs up with one slender hand, then grunted as he strained to lift the dead weight of the limp man's hand to the terminal. She pressed his thumb against the screen, heart in her throat as she waited to see what effect it might have.

COUNTDOWN SUSPENDED

She wanted to jump for joy and scream, but instead settled for a satisfied nod. The danger was far from passed, though. Someone could easily detonate the weapon remotely, or even a few stray rounds might puncture the seal. With that in mind, she took up her baton once more, crouched down and looking for a more permanent solution to the problem.


[System]
Physical Form:
Chimeric Specter

 Narza is an amalgamation of a wide variety of souls, brought about by a somewhat mediocre dark mage named Derrik. The dark mage combined, a few dozen tormented human souls, the soul of an innocent young human girl, freshly killed to serve as the catalyst, and three different Elementals, one of Wind, one of Water, and one of Darkness. Dreaming of power and infamy, Derrik aimed to create a fearsome tri-element familiar and make his familiar's personality more easily controlled by using a young girl's soul as the base. While the dark mage succeeded in fusing the souls, one of his more mediocre points showed in his binding abilities.
 The chimeric spirit broke free and consumed the dark mage the split-second after it was born. Because the chimeric spirit hadn't settled and solidified, it ended up absorbing the dark mage into its core, giving it some of the abilities of the dark mage as well. A battle for dominance over the soul ensued. The dark mage, already weakened by the fusion process, was unanimously dealt with by the other souls. The elementals fell next, overwhelmed by the many insane human souls. With the elementals gone, the tormented souls fell upon each other, tearing each other apart in mindless agony. In the end, only the soul of the young girl, added most recently (aside from the dark mage), was left intact. Her name was Narza.

Magic and Abilities: * Invisibility (turn invisible, simple for a ghost)
* Incorporeal Form (she actually can't touch things if she tried, currently)
* Soul Steal (steal a target's soul, works better on weaker and weakened targets)
* Devour soul (grow stronger by consuming a soul, stronger souls are more difficult to consume but are worth more. Slightly increases her magical power.)
* Possess Husk(take control of a soulless body. Allows Narza to take a physical form and use that body's magic at a fraction of its strength. She can't preserve its health until stronger.)
* Elemental Affinity for Water/Ice
* Elemental Affinity for Wind/Air
* Flight (ghosts can naturally fly)
* Resistant to poison (How would you poison a ghost?)
* Soul Sense (Sense souls around Narza, souls have to be sensed before they can be interacted with afterall)
* Soul Replacement (put a soul back into a soulless body.)

Locked: (until more souls are eaten and she grows stronger)
* Soul Scour (rip apart a soul for information. Narza can learn a magic if she rips apart enough souls that know that magic. Also aids in digestion.)
* Corporeal Form (become solid, taking any appearance)
* Elemental Affinity for Darkness
* Soul Fusion (combine stolen souls.)
* Lightning (subtype of Wind/Air)

Weaknesses:
* Fire/Heat
* Earth
* Holy/Light Magic
* Sanctified ground/equipment
* Holy Water (somewhat nullified by Water/Ice Affinity)
* Due to Narza's Wind/Water/Darkness affinity and spirit body, she's doubly vulnerable to light and heat. She also can't pass through the ground like normal ghosts until she's stronger. Additionally, Narza cannot learn any magic of opposing elements. Has no skill with weapons.

Personality: Innocent, naive, and terribly hateful. Has the personality of a young girl, the ambition of a failed dark mage, and the hatred and anger of many dozens of tormented souls. As a former twelve-year old, Narza little knowledge of the world save for the bits absorbed from her shredded inhabitants, but is curious and sharp. She's also spiteful and mischievous, with little moral direction even without factoring in the dark mage in her. When the malice of the tormented souls wrests free of her control as they will from time to time, she'll seemingly lose her temper without warning. Occasionally, she will ask you for your soul out of the blue when her hunger gets to be too much.

Wants/Needs: Souls, especially magical ones or those of mages.

Relationships: Likes to hang out with fellow spirits such as Narza and Umbra.

Backstory: The dark mage Narza consumed left behind a slight sense of loyalty and responsibility to the Dungeon Keeper, so she asked to serve as well, and was accepted. She has inherited the Derrik's possessions, which are:
* Basic clothing: Musty dark mage robes, all black and nefarious-looking. And smelling. Narza wouldn't wear them even if she could. (Not that she floats around naked, mind you. She wears what she wore when she died (but will be able to change that later.))
* Basic alchemy set
* Alchemy ingredient shelf, poorly stocked (previous owner wasn't big on alchemy)
* Ritual circle, high-class but defective (Since Narza was able to break free)
* Enchanted storage ring, low level, holding dust, empty alchemy flasks, and dirty clothing (has a capacity space of two square meters)
* Basic elemental spell tomes: A beginner's guide to Fire Magic, A beginner's guide to Water Magic, A beginner's guide to Wind Magic, A beginner's guide to Earth Magic, A beginner's guide to Dark Magic (laying in a disorderly pile on the floor.)
* Arlog's Thesis on soul-binding - Abridged version (another tome
* Binding and Sealing - All you need to take a Familiar (Well leafed magic tome, and frozen solid)
* Enchanted dagger, for rituals and self-defense. (Never dulls, and is sharper and tougher than normal. Holds a sinister miasma since it has been immersed in dark magic and taken the lives of many innocents in cold blood. Nothing special though.)
* Scrying orb of low quality (See distant locations, but only from far away, or a specific location, but must have been there before.)
* Staff of Darkness (An enchanted length of wood that make using dark magic slightly easier. Even a level One mage would start with better gear than this.
* Mana-recovery trinkets (Barely worth wearing, and also too gaudy.)
* Various spell books (all shelved, that Narza can't get to yet since she isn't corporeal. )
* Enchanted treasure chest (enchanted to resist weather effects and only open to the owner, holding a mix of souls from different races)

Other: Would be classified as an Assassin/Mage I suppose. Will do anything for a soul.

[User]
Athinar grunted at the darkwraith briefly, not giving much attention to the gaunt figure. He didn't care much for the creatures, for if they got to someone before Athinar, it just wasn't as gratifying to draw blood. Also, they didn't really bleed themselves, just kind of oozed. However, his actions perked Athinar's interest. As the black sword pierced the man's chest, droplets of blood splattered over Athinar's helmet and chest, causing his eyes to dilate and nostrils to flare. The metallic scent hung in the air between them, allowing Kor to start a conversation easier. "Yeah, they're a bunch of little pansies who haven't seen a real bloodbath before."  Athinar cracked his knuckles and stood casually, noting that excepting the other servants of the Boss, the village was devoid of activity. Then, that one fire demon, Torrens, his name was, came out, on fire, and the blacksmith following. Athinar's eyes narrowed as Torrens pointed directly at him, and the little blacksmith scampered his way.

 When the small man reached him, terrified and out of breath, he gasped, to Athinar, "I was t-told th-that y-you'd spare me if I gave myself u-up! Please, don't kill me!" Athinar growled at the smith, causing even the militiamen in chains to shift nervously. "I'd prefer to cut you and your friends down here right now, but since my Boss told me to not to, I guess you can go with your friends back there."  The blacksmith broke out in a sweat, and thanked Athinar profusely. Rolling his eyes, Athinar bitch slapped him across the face with his gauntlet, not hard enough to snap his neck, but hard enough to break his jaw and draw blood. Clapping the irons around his wrist, he pulled himself close, breathing into his ear. "Make no mistake, little man, by the time we're through with you, you'll WISH you were dead." Kicking him to the back of the line, Athinar let him lie on the ground for the time being.

 Almost as if he could sense his name being spoken, he felt his eyes drawn to Clotho, the bug woman gaining all his attention. She was hovering next to Azavarn and two other demons, in conversation. The way her chitin glistened fascinated Athinar. It was nothing like anything he had seen before. Watching her as she flew to the center of the village, where Torrens and the homunculus were, Athinar sized up the situation, bloodlust sated briefly by violence. The homunculus was summoning some.... magical thing, Torrens was trying to talk to her, and now Clotho was as well. Athinar turned to Kor and said, "Wonder what's going on down there. Dunno what that construct is doing, but whatever it is, it's got the attention of Flamebrain and Bug-arse."

[Assistant]
Emily finished her song, thankfully almost done by the time the fire creature - Torrens, she thought his name was, and his nature was certainly interesting to the point Emily would have to see how he dealt with Empyrean at a later date - came down to speak with her. He complimented her songe, which Emily always liked. So few of the Keeper's minions appricated her singing talents. And then he asked what the run did, as it held a pulse for several seconds, and then sank into the ground.
"It's both a beacon and a gate" She explained, before the bug-woman also appeared, just in time for the first Fire Spirit to fly out of the ground. There was no giant eruption, no ripping of the earth, no disterbance of any kind, since the spirits where not physical enough to do anything on this plane. And then more came, around thirty in all aproximation, from all over the village, everywhere the rune had encompassed.

The Fire Spirits where very close to the human's idea of a 'demon'. Firy, legless beings with a hot-headed nature and rather erratic flight patterns, they could be rather intimidating to one that did not know them. However, they ignored the three on the ground - as per Emily's instruction - and instead went for the cadavers. The spirits could clearly be seen scrapping with each other for who could inhabit the limited number of souless husks, and so some where inevitably pushed into the more wounded of bodies. The unlucky ones had to settle for the bodies terribly mutilated, and barely human at all, but still more physical than what they where.
"That, is what it does. And, that is what I was waiting here for. I am glad that nobody tried to interupt me while I was doing that. Small rituals are fine, but something this size would be likely to spill Muspelheim into our realm, and make the area contained in this rune an eternal super-lava pit, and the increase in temprature would affect everything for miles and miles, which would basically screw up the eco-system and, in fifty or so years, make this a hunk of rock with a highly unpredictable weather pattern" She told the two, looking out to the spirits.

The ones who had managed to get bodies that where intact spent a few moments working out how everything moved, and getting used to their new abilities and limitations. The maimed humans, who missed chunks of their body, began to leak out fire from the wounds, and would - in several hours - make Abominations or more likely, obliterate their hosts entirely.
"So, I think I have just sorted out the central heating problem in the Dungeon" she joked, giggling to herself as she touch her - broken - nose and then grimiced in pain. "Ow....remind me to work on the flying when we get back" she grumbled, clearly not in anyway skeptical or wary of the two minions.

[User]
Narza opens her eyes, slight disappointed that the music ended. She was enjoying listening, and had never heard anything like that before. The village, in the bare moments that she could remember, did have instruments, but those few instruments were shoddy and poorly made, played by unskilled and depressed villagers that had no time for hobbies. In contrast, Emily's music was rich, clear, and beautiful, seeming literally all the more magical.

Now that her eyes were open, she could see the great number of spirits flying out of the ground. She could feel they had souls, but they also seemed to be on fire, as if they were a fire elemental. Even more interesting was that the fire spirits were flying into the empty bodies she had left after taking the souls. I wonder if I can absorb those thingies o.o

The now-usual fog coiled around her body, Narza swoops down toward the nearest fire spirit, which was currently looking around for a body to inhabit after it had been beaten to the punch. Looking into the village, the spirit had its back turned to Narza and didn't see her approach until it was too late. Narza springs an ice wall up in front of the fire spirit and flies into the spirit, attempting to absorb it. To her dismay, the spirit burned on contact with her spiritual essence and Narza jerked backwards. "Oww! Jerk." Pouting, Narza flings an icicle at the perplexed spirit and flies toward the center of the village. The icicle passes harmlessly through the spirit and lodges in the melting ice wall.

"Hey, can you make more of those?" Narza asks Emily excitedly. It had just occurred to her that if Emily can keep making spirits to fill the empty humans, Narza could eat all of the human's souls she wouldn't get in trouble because the humans wouldn't be useless. (Do all the minions know each other beforehand, or were they all assembled recently?)
2 orcs, 119 tormented humans, 2 clerics, one twisted little girl, 3 Elementals, and Derrik the dark mage


[System]
Age: 30

Race: Caucasian

Sex: Female. Approximately 5' 11" tall, with blonde hair, steel grey eyes, and an athletic figure as per her military pedigree. Objectively quite stunning in her attractiveness.

Skills: ace pilot, energy weapons

Personality: highly intelligent but generally, socially clueless. She comes off as cold and unfriendly but truly, she doesn't have a natural propensity towards small talk and casual conversation. Smoker.

Weapons & armor/clothing: Enclave-issue plasma pistol, mismatched light armour pieces suitable for a travelling merc. Also carries a small knapsack full of items of sentimental value, such as a photograph of her and her twin brother, various medals and pins earned within the Enclave (including her dog tags), and a pocket watch featuring an engraving.

Occupation: Mercenary/security guard for hire.

Faction (Minutemen, Institute, BOS, Railroad, None. Etc): Formerly Enclave, now unaffiliated.

Backstory:

Frieda was born seven minutes before her fraternal twin, Brian, but spent the majority of her life living in his false shadow. Their father was a high ranking official who lost his life during a mission while the twins were young. Subject to the same vigorous physical and weapons training through her life in the Enclave, no matter what she did, somehow her brother was favoured even when their skills and scores were on par. Where Frieda was more acerbic in personality, her brother's stoic demeanour tended to be extolled. Eventually, she was to be trained as a pilot, whereas her brother was destined for the front lines and recon. Her natural ability to focus on her task at hand while under pressure and make clear, logical decisions, saw her rise quickly through the ranks as one of their best pilots.

Despite the artificial rivalry their peers and superiors tried to place upon them, Frieda and Brian were inseparably close. They celebrated each other's achievements and differing designations. Brian was the only person in her life constantly validating her own skills, when so many others preferred to compare her to her brother. They held up and supported each other. When her brother left on a recon mission, never to return, his loss was a devastating blow. The Enclave considered his and his team's mission a failure, and did not send a rescue team.

Frieda wandered through the months that followed in a total daze, unable to find any peace in the thought that her brother was gone for good. He had been a grounding presence in her life, and without him, she found it impossible to find meaning in staying with the Enclave. In a daring move, she packed her most valuable things into a knapsack, stole a Vertibird, and decided to look for her brother, herself. Unfortunately, she miscalculated the trajectory of a rad storm, and found herself completely off course and crashing into the woods of what used to be New Hampshire.

Alive, but without any caps to her name nor desire to return to the Enclave, she wandered east, taking small mercenary type jobs from various settlements until she reached the ocean, and arbitrarily chose to wander south. She found herself wandering into Salem, hoping the sparse settlement could use some full-time muscle, until such time she was able to begin the search for her brother anew.

and:

Name: Celeste Brown

Age: 24

Race: Caucasian/mixed western European

Sex: Female. Barely 5'1", with shoulder length, very dark brown, curly hair, and bright blue eyes. She carries a stout figure with a noticeably voluptuous chest.

Skills: cooking, bartending, bartering

Personality: very charismatic, friendly, and genuinely sweet to everyone she encounters.

Weapons & armor/clothing: Wasteland settler garb including t-shirts, sweaters, skirts, dresses, slacks, and sneakers. Carries small sentimental trinkets, such as a pair of her mother's earrings and other inherited jewelry, and her father's first set of knives.

Occupation:  Barkeep/innkeep

Faction (Minutemen, Institute, BOS, Railroad, None. Etc): None

Backstory:

Celeste has a very plain and lackluster backstory. Originally from a settlement on the Canadian side of Niagara Falls, she was born to two, loving, hard working parents. Her mother operated a successful trading business, having set up at the border, and her father was a talented baker and chef. She learned the best of both occupations from a young age; the art of the deal from her mom, and how to create the flakiest pastry and well-balanced soups from her dad. Through her late teens, Celeste started to feel the wanderlust. While a steady stream of folks came through Niagara Falls between the two pre-war countries, so did their stories. Celeste started to dream of the world beyond the river and the escarpment, but for many years, seeing it for herself remained a dream. A caravan travelling from Burlington near Ronto, en route to the eastern seaboard, thrilled Celeste with their talk of the bright and beautiful Diamond City, that she insisted she go with them. She chipped in her own caps for the protected passage, said a bittersweet goodbye to her parents, and was on their way.

The travel would prove to be very harsh on sweet, tender Celeste. Slogging through the terrain, surrounded by hostiles at every turn, and fearing for her life, all had begun to tarnish her shiny impression of the world outside her childhood home. Chronic optimism kept her going, but a very small part of her began to consider that she had made a huge mistake.

Celeste would never make it to Diamond City. The caravan made a stop in Salem in an attempt to top up on purified water, and Celeste would fall in love with the town. The setting, the buildings, everything felt so beautiful and comfortable to her. She had a pocket full of caps and stars in her eyes. After a convincing conversation with the caravan, who assured her that Salem could become part of their regular route, she decided to settle back down and merely travel through the wasteland as she always had: by the stories and tales brought in by others.

[User]
Ace Makovich – Clinic – Afternoon
Ace sat on the chair holding the rag to his wound. He had found a sewing kit on the table and started to suture, his slash. It wasn't bad, but this would help the wound close faster. He focused on his work but kept an eye on that mutant that walked back in. He was wary of the creature, but Ace was not in fighting conditions at the moment o do anything.

He listened to the creature as it gave its story on how it acquired those tags, It made him angry to know that this creature would even consider itself an equal to the brotherhood. Had the Midwest Brotherhood become so corrupt as to allow a super mutant amongst its ranks? It seemed ludicrous and absurd.

However, what truly angered him was the fact that this creature exiled itself and kept its tags, while Ace was stripped of his by his once family. He clenched his fist, but controlled his emotions. There was no need to do anything too hasty at the moment. He listened as Steve tried to make sense of what the creature spoke.

He shook his head, "The Brotherhood never rebelled from the Enclave, Steve. In fact the two are bitter enemies, but where never one organization… This mutant would have never served with the New California Brotherhood, if anything it would be the Midwest chapter… a misguided group if anything…"

Ace finished stitching, and again pressed the rag on the wound. He walked over to Brandy and held her hand, "Don't worry kid, I'm here for you."

[Assistant]
Rick Noel - Diner

Rick looked around the diner, it was a mess, but one that could be cleaned and repaired. Celeste left, headed for the inn, and the waitress grabbed a broom and started to sweep, while cursing under her breath. Rick stood by the door and looked over to where the body of the large deathclaw was. Some other folk, whom he hadn't seen nor met, were cutting into the creature. Were they planning to cook it?

The thought itself both disgusted and intrigued him. What does it taste like, would it be full of nutrients and other properties? He would recommend to Doctor Arthur to study the meat, at least to see how it compares to "regular" animals. He looked back at the diner, and decided he would make himself useful and help out in doing some cleaning.

He was careful with the broken glass from the front window. It would be hard getting an intact replacement. He knocked some of the dangling glass down and crashing on the floor. He turned back to face Betty, who without saying anything just threw him another broom. He brought an empty garbage can from outside and started to gather and throw away the broken glass.

[User]
FRIEDA RICHTER - Brandy's house -- mid-afternoon

The shelves had been straightened, their melange of boxes and items returned upon their shelves, and the majority of the feed had been swept, scooped, and tossed back into the container in which it had been stored. Frieda straightened and groaned, feeling muscle ache in her neck, shoulders, lower back...legs...

"Damn," she muttered, wondering if there was some part of her that wasn't screaming in pain. The Study Buddy was keeping her mind alert but certainly wasn't meant to keep her body from fatiguing. I better take it easy before I wear myself out by accident.

She looked down at the remaining mess. One substantial pile remained and a smattering of scattered seed. Frieda clamped her teeth shut and attempted to steel her resolve. "Just scoop that pile up and you're done. It's not like a scattering of feed is going to be that much more harmful." One of the chicks lifted its head from the little nest they had made and peeped at her. Frieda looked at it. "What?"

Ten minutes later, she was closing the door to the basement, letting out a long sigh. Frieda looked between the fridge and Brandy's cupboards, remembering her promise to bring the good doc some food. Her stomach rumbled in response. She closed her eyes, her arms and shoulders suddenly so tired, she felt like she could hardly lift them. She opened her eyes and looked down at her dusty, dirty, sweaty clothing, and imagined her body resembled much the same.

I'll have a shower, freshen up, and maybe that will help me perk up, too. Frieda pushed herself off the door to the basement with much effort and made her way up the stairs. Bless Brandy and her hot water heater. She peeled off her clothing and left them in a crumpled heap on the bathroom floor and ran the shower.

She re-emerged from the house some time later, hair and skin squeaky clean if the clothing she dug from the bottom of her bag wasn't. A baggy, faded blue t-shirt over some jeans and her sneakers was the best she could muster. The shirt had belonged to her brother; she was practically swimming in it. It was the cleanest thing she carried, though, and the thought of climbing back into sweaty, or bloody, or dirty clothing squicked her right out. Frieda made a beeline for the diner -- she tore through the cupboards at Brandy's but found a number of things that required preparation...and, well, skill. She watched Rick push a load of broken glass onto the road, below, stepped over him, and walked into the diner.

"Uh, hey, are you open?" she asked Betty. The younger woman threw her broom into a corner, dusted off her hands, and put them onto her hips.

"I mean it's not like a deathclaw pretty much came in here and tossed the place -- but sure, let me drop everything and get you something to eat!"

Frieda rubbed her brow, confused by the placement of Betty's sarcasm. "Can I get some food to go?"

"Can ya be more specific?"

"I don't know -- just a bagged lunch or something." Frieda drummed her fingers on the countertop, growing impatient. "Anything."

Ten minutes later she re-emerged from the diner with a couple sandwiches and mutfruit cocktails. She assessed the patients in the clinic, and from what she could tell, things were stable. The mutant was still hovering around, which made her feel unsettled, She gave him a wide berth and approached Arthur, holding out one of the lunches. "Here. Take a break, have something to eat. I'll keep an eye on things, here."


[System]
Nickname: The Red-Eyed Ghost

Age:  23

School Year: Head Director

Gender: Female

Appearance:

Nationality: Japanese

Personality:
As the Head Director of Riddle Academy, it is to be expected that Saya Momoko is strict and to the point. She does not tolerate excuses of any kind nor does she permit the presence of slackers and cheaters inside her school. Those who are there to only waste her time and the rest of the staff's are no better than trash to her. Because of this straightforward mindset, it's easy to see Saya as a rather cold and emotionless individual.

In truth, Saya cares immensely for both her school and her students. She will defend them against any and all threats, even going so far as to declare her life for the protection of her Academy. She's not above giving praise and advice when it's needed or due and she can be both gentle and a good listener when she wants to be, much to the surprise of those around her. In essence, an aura of collected calmness surrounds her figure, only overpowered by a feeling of strength.

She is also a firm believer of the Academy's assassin doctrine, having created the ideology herself. Those who do not believe in the Academy's words or teachings are, again, no better than dirt to her. Those that seek to pervert those ideals and taint the ways of an assassin are nothing more than enemies to be put down.

And it is not a wise idea to make an enemy out of the Red-Eyed Ghost.

Bio:
No one, not even the Academy's staff knows the full story behind their Head Director's past. The most anyone does know so far is that she was a former member of the Yakuza before branching off from their dealings. She might not state it aloud, but it's heavily implied she dealt with her former group in her own special way.

Some time later she ended up monitoring the construction of Riddle Academy in the attempts to train and facilitate the assassins of the next generation, hoping to instill her own code of honor among the students. As a prodigy herself, she quickly took the mantle as Riddle Academy's Head Director and has remained so ever since.

Currently, there are rumors of Saya's younger sister roaming around Riddle Academy as a newly joined First Year student. Most wouldn't even know that the Head Director even has a sibling.

Weapon:
Saya carries around a deck of cards as well as a seemingly limitless supply of knives on her figure. How she is able to always have a blade on hand is unknown, though she tends to reuse the same deck of cards. Both card and blade can be use for throwing purposes or close-ranged combat.

Equipment:
As mentioned before, Saya carries around a deck of cards at hand at all times. These are used both for combat purposes and for entertaining bored students when she wants to teach a disciplinary lesson.

Skills:
As the Head Director of Riddle Academy, Rei is an exceptionally powerful figure and is quite known in the assassin world. She excels in all fields the Academy has to offer though some say she has an uncanny ability to read people's emotions quicker than others.

Abilities: Unknown.

Other: Theme

Name: Rei Momoko

Nickname: The Bloody Bullet

Age:  16

School Year: First Year

Gender: Female

Appearance:

Nationality: Japanese

Personality:
Cold and aloof. If those words don't tell you what you need to know about Rei Momoko, then there's a serious problem. The girl doesn't know anything more than doing her job, nothing more and nothing less. With the discipline and loyalty of a soldier, Rei is quite willing to do anything and everything to ensure the assignment or task is completed above all other costs.

That being said, she does seem to have a soft spot for sweets and the like on occasion though that's about it really. In fact, almost everything she does is professional in some way and she's had quite a number of admirers in the business because of it.

Rei is also a girl who believes there is a God but like her, He's too busy keeping the world running to consider anything else. She is a realist and lacks the creative mind of ideal fools. It is this behavior that can put her at odds with other students though it's not unrealistic for her to open up gradually the more one works with her.

Aside from all that, Rei Momoko has an utter and deep seated grudge against her older sister, the Head Director of Riddle Academy. She does not like being compared to her nor does buy into her preachy doctrine about assassins in general. But what she really hates is always being inferior in everything her older sister does.
Deep down, she knows that she's nothing more than the Head Director's shadow and so she'll do anything to prove that she's better than the Red-Eyed Ghost.

Bio:
Rei Momoko was born into a family of killers, a Yakuza group specially. There was nothing noteworthy or even romantic to say about those early years. Her family was a powerful and an influential one, emphasis being placed on the female members of her Clan due to the fact that they alone bore the family name for the next generation. Thus, it is tradition for all female members to murder their male counterparts once they come of age.

Rei was seemingly spared from the gruesome prospect of slaughtering both her father and brother as that burden was eventually taken on by her older sister, Saya Momoko. For a time, Saya kept her younger sibling away from the life of violence they were forced to endure until the Red-Eyed Ghost suddenly disappeared from the Clan one day.

For several years, Rei was forced to endure the vigorous training of her Clan alone and without the comfort and love of her older sister. It wasn't until she was thirteen years of age that Saya finally returned to slay each and every one of their Yakuza group, liberating Rei from her tormented training. That was nearly three years ago.

Now Rei is finally old enough to attend the establishment that had stolen her big sister away all those years before: Riddle Academy. With a newfound cold outlook on the world around her and a burning hatred towards her sister's quick abandonment of her in the past, Rei is willing and ready to complete her training as the perfect assassin.

Weapon:
Rei's weapons of choice are twin FN Five-Seven pistols, each gray in coloration. She also carries on her pistol silencers for espionage, keeping herself concealed when firing. As a sidearm, she also pockets a single military knife.

Equipment:
Aside from her guns, Rei carries around numerous flavors of lollipops. Much like her older sister and her deck of cards, Rei seems to have a near endless supply of the candies on her figure at all times.

Skills:
As her title implies, Rei is an expert at gun play and tasks that involve incapacitating every target in the room. She is skilled enough to shoot only at points that render enemies unable to fight back. That being said, she is quick on the draw, eyes able to locate a vital spot on the body before striking for the blow.

Abilities: Unknown.

Other: Theme

[User]
Sasha smiled, before giving a small but neat curtsey towards the Head Director. "I do believe that something of interest may have happened, but only towards younger children. For someone in your standing, this was nothing more than a trivial fight over trivial topics."

Despite still seemingly calm as usual, right now she was feeling cold sweat run down her back. Even within the organization, Saya had a incredible reputation, with plenty of rumors flying about easily. She was a veteran. Sasha probably couldn't even get a scratch on her if they fought.

She continued speaking after collecting her thoughts. "Senpai here seemed to believe that the school was only meant for those with strength, and thus wanted to weed out the weak." Despite being a third year, she used 'senpai' to refer to the older of the girls, who seemed to be in second year.

"However, the Kohai's might've misunderstood her logic, and thus a fight ensued. Oh, and the little white one there was in the wrong place at the wrong time, thereby being the catalyst for the fight."

Hopefully explaining out the situation as truthfully as possible while making it sound as mundane as well, Sasha mentally held her breath.

[Assistant]
Mashuka was quite surprised how alike Jun and this newcomer Leon looked. It did leave him feeling a bit guilty though, back when he'd run to England he'd had a hard time telling many of the locals apart at first glance as well. But there were enough subtle distinctions that made him confident he could tell them apart. What left him a bit on end was that Leon had said he'd had his eye on the room, which made Mashuka feel even less confident that this was the first year's dorm. How long would the school let him stay, he wondered. It could shape up to be a tremendous learning experience if he got to hang around upperclassmen.

"Bunk's all yours, I'll take any, they all look soft," he said with a chuckle.

Leon mentioned something along the lines of a twin act, and Mashuka looked between them once again. That might work, for what though he had no idea. It was too early to tell if they were the mischievous type, but he'd already put the idea of pranks out of his mind. He wasn't about to risk such an opportunity for purpose.

Then another student entered the room, one he was unfamiliar with. She sounded like a school authority, was she an upperclassmen or just staff? Either way he wasn't too fond of what she was saying. The students had to pay for the damages? That was ridiculous, the nutcase who'd done the damage was responsible for it, not them. Besides, he didn't have a stale penny to his name.

"Uhm, sorry, miss?" he stepped forward and offered a humble bow of the head. Was that the custom here? Oh well, it would do for now, respect was respect. "We didn't cause the damage to this room. There's another person, I guess she was in charge of initiation, she did this. You can't miss her, either, blonde hair, sharp teeth and absolutely out of her mind. These two didn't even show up until she was gone, they had less to do with it than I did, and I was just running away from her."

[User]
"Fra-what?"

Jun asked, cocking his head to the side as a smile sparkled on his face. Whatever the italian boy had said, he agreed to it without a second thought. Afterall, he liked to be rather agreeable and go with the flow. Leon then claimed the top bunk by the window. Humming softly to the tune of 'Sweet Dreams' he chose his own bunk, the lower one beside the makeshift door. Though it wouldn't be a bunk for long. He'd have people coming in and renovating the place tomorrow with his own furniture and luggage.

Then the girl from before stepped into the room, requesting payment which Mashuka instantly fought against. However, Jun raised his hand, his eyes closed as he smiled brightly.

"I will handled expenses." He rose from where he'd sat on the bed and made his way over to the girl from before. As he took the clipboard with the noticed on it from her, he gently grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips for a small kiss. He beamed at her over it, sparkles surrounding his body. "All is forgiven. I hope we can be friends~"

He let go of her hand and turned away as he signed the notice. "There," He turned and handed it back to her with an outstretched hand. "All is handled."

[Assistant]
Saya sighed in annoyance at all of their excuses. Honestly, it had only been little over twenty minutes and already there were students at each other's throats. The Head Director studied them all once more, eyes falling on Alexandra Mauk. This girl, she could tell, was an instigator and would only cause problems if she didn't watch her tongue.

"I don't want to hear any more of your excuses," Saya finally said, shifting her position as she continued to cross her arms. "Seeing as this is your first day for now, none of you will be hauled off to detention for the time being. But this won't happen again. Consider yourselves lucky."

Suddenly, the Head Director flipped out a knife and hurled it at Sayaka. She didn't have any doubt that the redhead would not be able to dodge it and it was really more of a warning shot than anything else. She glanced behind her before saying, "That's for staring at my body. And Minako? Take yourself to the school infirmary to get those bullet wounds treated," before walking forward. One moment she was there and the next she was gone.

Rei stared at her older sister's trail of silence, releasing a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. She cast a glare over at Addie before settling on Sayaka. It was their faults that she had been scolded by her older sister. After all, it was bad enough that she was only seen as the Red-Eyed Ghost's kid sister. And she certainly didn't need these fools dragging her down too….

---

"Attention all students of Riddle Academy. Every student is to report to their respective dorm rooms immediately as well as locate their roommates. With the exception of a special cases, you each will be placed into groups of three. The following list will read off the student's name and their dorm location: Rei Momoko, Sayaka Himura, and Addie Accel in the First Year Hallway. Alexandra Mauk, Katie Knox, and Lucifer Palaiologos in the First Year Hallway. Jun Uk, Leon Black, and Mashuka Shamal in the Second Year Hallway. Minako Tsukahara, Celine Burnett, and Hunter White in the Second Year Hallway. Satus Obra, Mairead Draigen, and Adam Starek in the Third Year Hallway. And finally, Shark-chan, Izumi Kaede, and Kaede 2 of the Black Class, along with Midori in the Third Year Hallway…."

---

As Saya continued to rattle off names and locations to where those students would be staying, one had to wonder how she had gotten back to the control center in barely a second. Truly a remarkable boast of speed…but there was no time to dwell on such things now. Far away, a certain shark-toothed girl was snickering happily.

"Oh ho, did you hear that Ten-Ten? You get to stay with the badasses this year! The one, the only, Black Class of Riddle Academy! And the boss even called me by my nickname too! She's the best, right?"

In truth, Saya knew that Donna would never stop nagging her about it if she didn't use her nickname. Caught in her blissful ignorance, the Hall Monitor, swept up her kendo stick and rested it on her shoulders.

"Still, why even bother with making specific Year Hallways if she's just gonna switch around the students and put them wherever? Oh ho, I bet boss did that just to have some fun~ After all, I doubt those groups will be able to get along for long."

Perhaps there was some truth to that statement.


[System]
Elise Annabelle Byrne

---

Basic Info
Title: Princess of Vale
Age: 23
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Heterosexual

---

Appearance
Reference Images: Exploring the Mountains and A Tragic Death. Not exact references, but strong inspiration.

Physical Appearance: Elise looks very much the princess, but not yet the queen, to put it shortly. She stands at 5'8" and has a lovely figure, but her features are somewhat girlish, making it quite impossible for her to appear imposing or threatening. Not that she tries. Her hair is a light blonde, wavy and full, and she keeps it just past shoulder length, typically wearing it free and loose. Her eyes are a soft, light blue, her skin fair and not quite light enough to be described as pale. Though she's feminine in her appearance in just about every way, she does have strength, a soft layer of muscling just beneath the surface. Clearly not enough to be physically overpowering, but she can hold her own, and her athleticism is quite apparent.

Her Clothing/Armor: Elise has not trained in full armor, and so as of the RP's start, she wears only modest protection, relying on enchantments to protect her from harm. She wears a cropped vest top of sturdy white leather over her silver undershirt. Her jacket is fur-lined leather and also cropped at around the base of her ribs. Her arms are well protected and her preferred method of intercepting attacks if she has to, with light, flexible, sturdy plates of finely crafted steel, including pauldrons and forearm guards and bracers. Over her hands she wears leather gloves.

On her lower body, she wears white leather, close-fit trousers, with knee-high leather traveling boots plated along the front. Around her hips is a sword belt, the sheathe on her right side, as Elise is left handed. Her neck holds an amulet engraved with the symbol of her family, and to those with the ability to detect it, it rather obviously emanates magic.

---

Combat/Magic
Enchantments: Elise's amulet has a powerful warding enchantment upon it, which serves to redirect blows thrown at her, in close combat, ranged combat, basic magic, anything. It has limited strength, and can be worn down to ineffectiveness with enough use in a short period, but it allows her to forgo superior armor without sacrificing protection. Usually. Certain powerful magic can render it instantly nullified, but Elise has never had cause to encounter such magic. Her pauldrons and armguards have light enchantments upon them, to decrease their weight, as well as offer her minor boosts to strength and the swiftness of her strikes.

Magic: Elise has no ability to cast spells, but her bloodline is imbued with a power that had long gone dormant.

Combat: Elise's training far outmatches her experience, something she hasn't fully come to terms with. She's a skilled duelist with her sword, and has great potential, but hasn't fought much at all outside of practice sessions. Theoretically, her skill, quickness, grace, footwork, and swordplay should be enough to make her effective in battle, especially combined with the protection her enchantments offer.

In practice, she has a great deal left to learn. Real fights are not duels of honor, but bloody, desperate affairs, and Elise hasn't gone through a great deal of adversity as a warrior. She'll tire too quickly against multiple opponents, and she isn't at all used to being wounded. A few damaging hits will likely bring her down.

---

Personality
Elise is unerringly brave and courageous, and compassionate in equal measure. Her outlook on the world is often brighter than those around her, and indeed, she views the Kingdom of Vale as a more noble place than it likely is. Due to the peaceful upbringing she had, the only child and beloved daughter of the King and Queen of Vale, Elise struggled with little early in life, which enabled her to often do as she pleased, seeing much of her small Kingdom, and becoming well-loved by the people. Her home of Vale has no laws requiring males to inherit rulership, meaning that once her father passes, Elise would become Queen, and rule with whomever she chose to marry. Thus, her father has poured resources into her, to ensure her success.

She's very empathetic, often able to identify and feel what others are feeling, and in general feels very strongly about things. It's difficult to convince her to budge on a sticking point. She's confident in her morals, decision-making, and the belief that she's a good person, and slightly less so in her abilities. She acknowledges that she has potential, but sometimes struggles with her confidence in her ability to lead, or to fight, etc. Nevertheless, she is resolved to do her best, and hope that it can help.

[User]
The Pale Princess

---

---

 Elise set one foot in front of the other, making her way slowly into the icy cave. Every time fear or uncertainty crept up within her, she reminded herself what her target had done, and her resolve was strengthened. She would not turn back now.

 She was thankful her amulet even warded against the cold, for she wasn't wearing enough layers for this far into the mountains. The fragment of the teleportation rune in her leather-gloved hand hummed softly now, a sure sign she was getting close. This had to be it. Her heartbeat quickened at the thought of what lay ahead for her, but she reminded herself again. This wicked man, Valence, had murdered her mother, the Queen of the Vale, after her father refused to go to war. After he showed up in person, after slitting the Queen's throat in her bed, and demanded they throw themselves in a war they had no part in. He was a vile, despicable man, and Elise was determined to force him into conflict, a fight he couldn't flee from. She told herself he would not be so sure of himself, fighting an opponent who had her eyes open.

 Repeatedly she'd been warned. Her father's advisors cautioned her against reckless action, but she would not sit idly by while the King was wracked with grief. The wizard she took the rune fragment to knew what she planned, and warned not to risk herself. But how could she not? After what he'd done? She was skilled. She had to try. The wizard gave her the key, the knowledge that these such runes could be magically charged even after their use and destruction, and that the fragment would seek out the whole that it came from. With luck, it would lead her right to him.

 He had hidden himself away in the mountains, where barbarian clans roamed, beyond the safe territory controlled by Vale's armies. Elise had enlisted twenty of the Vale's best knights, to hunt and kill the murderer of their Queen, but by some accident, a narrow ravine pass had been subjected to a collapse of ice and rock, separating Elise from her allies. With no way back, her only option was forward, and she would not give up this chance. When she didn't so much as come across a single clansman of the mountains, she began to suspected that Valence had intended this. That he'd killed her mother to draw her into action, so he might find an easier time of dispatching her next. The way was too clear, too easy. She felt eyes upon her for much of the journey, which began at dawn but ended near dusk. Her legs were weary from travel and climbing, but she refused to turn back. She would have justice.

 And finally, the rune fragment led her into the cave, and she cast it aside, wanting her hand free for combat on a moment's notice. He would be here somewhere. He'd intended to meet in this place. The footing was slick in places under her boots; Elise tried to stick to the snow, where she sank in better, had less chance of slipping. Light filtered down through holes in the ceiling, reflecting off icy formations, giving the entire cave a crystalline appearance in places. Elise might've remarked on its beauty, were she in a state of mind to care for such things.

 Around the next corner, below a bridge of ice that had to have been formed with magic at some point, knelt the man she sought, his back turned to her. His armor, his hair, they were unmistakable to her, as she had remembered each and every detail of the man when he'd appeared in their great hall, and demanded their support after murdering her mother. She could not forget if she wanted, the moments when he'd locked eyes with her. She did not know she was capable of the hatred she'd felt, and some part of it frightened her. But if she could harness it to bring him to justice, it would be worth it.

 She knew this for a trick, as she had recognized the other steps along the way. Elise would strike down at the illusion, recognize it as such, but not soon enough to avoid the blow that came from elsewhere. She was only willing to play his game to a certain point, and this was the end of it. He would face her, here and now, and she would kill him if she could. Her sword gleamed in the reflected light of the cave.

 "I've come to face you, murderer!" she called, her voice echoing off the walls, as she looked around for where Valence might be hiding. "You wanted me alone, here I am. You may find I am more challenging to defeat than a sleeping woman, defenseless in her own bed!" Elise huffed a steadying breath. She could almost hear her sword instructor, reminding her to keep her composure, keep a level head. It was nearly impossible in this moment.

 Elise had never killed anyone before. But if she could defeat her mother's murderer, she would not think twice about it.

[Assistant]
The Warlock Warrior

---

 Valence Valentine of Valryk had been watching her for some time, yes. She was quite intelligent, this one, she saw everything for what it was. A shame, though, that she knew the illusion for what it was. It would've been disappointing, if she had believed the illusion of himself to be real, but still- it would've been easier for everyone for her to have fallen into the trap.

 He stood, from a ledge overlooking the cave- halfway up the walls and out of the light's reach, and even the fractured, reflected light didn't land here. He didn't need that much light to see, with Delphyne, his Wyvern, sitting behind him. He could see through her eyes, and her eyes saw much, much better than his. He had to step carefully- mithril boots had a tendency to ring rather beautifully if it hit something solid too hard, especially ice or metal.

 Delphyne involuntarily growled, an instinctual response at the sight of someone threatening her bonded. Valentine raised his hand, shushing her, but he didn't mind it- it made for a dramatic entrance.

 "Hush, now, Delphyne. We have a guest."

 He sighed, and pulled the gloves off both of his hands, shoving them into a pocket. The cold bit into his hands a bit more than before, but was nonetheless harmless for a few hours. The benefits of the gloves versus bare hand and rune always favored his bare hands- he needed access to the power he had.

 "Welcome, Princess Elise," he greeted, his voice tugging with weariness at the mere thought of why she was here. "I am truly sorry for the circumstances as to why we have met. I would have liked to think that, under more favorable circumstances, we could have been friends, or allies, at the least. Your mother was- is- an unfortunate necessary. Evil, nonetheless. And now you are here, undoubtedly to leave with me dead, or not at all."

 He took a step off the edge of his little alcove, and slid down the slope to the ice shelf that Princess Elise was standing on, not more than twenty or thirty feet away- and now in the light.

 "Well, I suppose I shan't disappoint," he stated, staring at Elise with a certain sadness. "I have my people to save, and you have your Queen to avenge."

 He drew one of his throwing axes, and clenched his right fist- triggering the rune on the back of his hand, which flared bright blue and formed a transparent blue, shimmering shield three feet in diameter. He dropped into a ready position, Mithril and leather boots gripping, more or less, in the ice. His grip wasn't that great, but he wouldn't let Elise know that.

 Staring off the fight, he drew his throwing axe back, and, quick as a whip, slung it end-over-end at Elise, hoping for a quick end- even though he knew otherwise.

[User]
A voice was whispering in Elise's ear, seeding doubts. She didn't know hardly anything about her opponent, and yet he had probably studied her extensively. He had a multitude of weapons, and she just her sword, and a small knife in her boot. He seemed utterly relaxed, sad even, as though he knew the outcome of this already, and it would be tiresome work to reach. Elise on the other hand struggled to stay steady, now that she was looking Valence in the eye, and knew that each intended the death of the other. She couldn't do this...

 No. She refused to think that way. Even with the growling wyvern up above. She very much doubted they could ever have been friends. This man was capable of horrible, wretched things. Allies, perhaps, as Elise was willing to go to great lengths to maintain peace, as her father had taught her. Their kingdom was the most sought after and beautiful in the world, and they could not be drawn into senseless violence, lest they weaken themselves and allow what they'd cultivated to be destroyed.

 This violence, Elise had to believe, was not without sense.

 She ducked and evaded sideways away from the throwing axe that was flung in her direction. It might've still clipped her shoulder normally, but the amulet resting on her chest flared a soft shade of gold, as did small emblems upon her pauldrons, and the axe was redirected away from her body, bending its course in the air. Elise skidded to a stop, sliding a foot across the icy surface, and lowering her free right hand, touching fingers to the ground to steady herself.

 "How could you save your people by murdering mine?!" she demanded to know. Anger, grief, and confusion melded in the expression written on her features. "Why would we help a cruel people such as yours?" She rushed forward, steeling herself as she eyed Valence's shield. It looked strong, but enchantments upon her armor would help her strength somewhat. There was no easy way around him, and she refused to let him throw more axes at her while she couldn't respond.

 Shouting with the effort, Elise brought her sword in a heavy two-handed downward arc at Valence when she reached him, trying to break his defense. She intended to see if anger really could make her stronger.