[System]
Gender: Female

Appearance: Has a more pointed pair of ears than your ordinary goblins. Sharper, narrower eyes as well. Also looks grumpy and haughty most of the time.

Personality: Just like how she looked when she was a human, and how she looks now as a goblin, she has a haughty and stand-offish attitude to her. She had a sharp gaze and she rarely smiled in front of others. Only when she was doing her own thing alone when you could usually find her smirking to herself. She also had a strong sense of justice. She would refuse to bend her own moral code to achieve her goals. She also hated losing.

Past Life History: She used to be a high school student before all of this happened, and she was pretty much the epitome of an honor student. She even became the student council president as a result. She was pretty indeed, but she was also infamous for being quite nagging to the other students, particularly those she deemed lazy and/or irresponsible. She also had a war of sorts with the anime club in their school who wanted to put in all sorts of manga and light novels into the school library. As a literary lover herself, she couldn't stand that such low quality works in the library, especially since she used to be the librarian before becoming the student council president. Thanks to that however, she was quite familiar with all the reincarnation light novels that was getting popular at the time. Quite an irony that she ended up becoming a main character of one.

Gift: The ability of language comprehension. Thanks to her fondness and capability of reading difficult books when she was still human, she now had an affinity for learning languages. For now, she has some understanding of the human language.

Other: She particularly hated those reincarnation story protagonists who would receive a powerful ability right off the bat and then proceed to lord it over to the rest of the world, especially when they acted immorally with it.

[User]
Rekzild

---

---

After his initial compliment made towards both Sabu and the human woman Rekzild had fallen silent for a time. In an action that was clearly developing into a habit he wandered a little way off, setting himself against a tree as he took in what had been said, and the bits of conversation that were still able to reach him. For many it would be overwhelming, or one would think at the very least, yet him and his fellow newborns all seemed to be catching onto everything that was spoken without much issue. Even the strange blood hungry kin of his possessed a startling ability to understand all of the things that had transpired. Was this something typical among goblin kind, or was there something exceptional about their batch?

He lifted his head for a moment, cocking it to the side when he heard mention of preparing to depart to the human city in a short amount of time. This was welcomed information, though it would seem that the others had more questions that required answers before they could depart. Unsure how long this portion would take Rekzild rose from his position against the trunk of the ironwood tree and made his way back to the chief's side, who had been largely abandoned by the others. Stopping at his side he looked out towards the ones interacting with his son, buzzing around him with millions of questions that they fired off at a rapid pace.

Throughout all of their questions most didn't pertain to him. He had no interest in learning magic, nor discovering if he was capable of it, he had received the name of the location he could find books already as well as an explanation on how to acquire tools to write his own, and he certainly wasn't interested in making the chieftain's son prove his lineage. The only thing mentioned that he found truly interesting was the Stored Knowledge Matrix. Such a device would prove immensely useful, if he did not have to rely on others to translate for him he could successfully manage himself on his own.

Before he could take another action he was taken back by Sabu unleashing his power in a more vibrant display. Rekzild could barely draw air into his body, but fortunately the display was short lived as it vanished almost as soon as it had appeared and he could breathe once more. Inhaling a couple of times he walked back towards the chief's son, head tilted back to look up at him.

"If you are willing to help them acquire magical testing would you help cover part of the cost of a Stored Knowledge Matrix for me? I know you said it is ridiculously expensive so I wouldn't expect you to cover the entire cost, I will accept the debt and work it off, but assistance would be greatly appreciated sir."

[Assistant]
Iris took 'a few steps' back a bit further than intended and ever so 'subtly' legged it back to the chief to hid behind him. Not that it helped much.

The effect was terrifying as Sabu manifested a great specter of a many headed dragon, or perhaps a manifestation of the idea of dragons, whose gaze bored into her very soul and pinned her in place. She felt like a minuscule spec in an uncaring cosmos at the mercy of beings far more powerful than herself who did not care that she existed. It was horrifying. Maddening. Fortunately it was over relatively quickly. She was not sure how long she could have endured it.

In the aftermath she was left gasping for breath in compensation for the breathing difficulties the effect had created.

"Please. Never do that again."

She noticed that the chief had not been affected as much as her. Because he had power, because he had evolved. She needed to gain that power so she would never feel that helpless again, and the first step to that was to find out if magic would be a good path to that.

"Can we go for that magic testing now, if we are done with" she avoided saying showboating "demonstrations?"

[User] Redd had stepped back from Sabu. Despite his prodding, he knew he was dangerous, however his ego seemed to require him prove himself on his own terms. He considered poking that just because he had powers that seemed related to dragons doesn't mean that he had the ancestory of dragons, however the other newborn goblins seemed to want to get in his way. They will rue this day, but that is not for now. But he was going to drink the blood of dragons, he was just not have it diluted.

[Assistant]
Kluuto

---

Kluuto nodded in a satisfied agreement at Lyminia's remarks against the uppity goblin. She wasn't as satisfied towards the other goblin's response however, who just said that Sabu could just handle him on his own. It didn't mean that she doubted Sabu's abilities however, oh no, not at all. But she just simply disliked the uppity goblin to the point that she wanted Sabu to punish him in some way.

And right away, Kluuto got her wish.

Sabu, in an attempt to prove beyond any doubt about his dragon blood, gave a demonstration of his power. And what a powerful demonstration it was. When he did his Potential Release technique, Kluuto could feel every inch of her body bowing down to his amazing and terrible power. It was truly the power of subjugation. The power of the king of beasts that ruled over all.

Kluuto panted after Sabu returned to his normal form. She could feel her heart beating loudly and a layer of sweat covering her skin.

Kluuto could see the effect of the demonstration on the uppity goblin as he backed away himself without being told to. She smiled. At least he got his comeuppance.

"Please, never do that again," she heard the hazel-eyed goblin said. She had to agree with her though of course, she didn't say anything, just so she wouldn't be seen as a coward.

She then heard Rekzild asking for an assistance in getting the Stored Knowledge Matrix, even to the point of wanting to accept debt to get it. She didn't understand why he wanted it so badly. But if Sabu agreed, then who was she to object?

"Yes, I want to hurry on to the magic testing as well," Kluuto added to the hazel-eyed goblin's request. "I believe we've dawdled here for long enough."

@DracoLunaris@Malchivo@Moonlit Sonata@Holy Grail

[User]
Lyminia

Lyminia found herself pushing her willpower into simply breathing and moving seemed to be far harder than that. Such a display of power left her in awe for a moment, the sensation of pressure and authority throughout her entire body from this tyrannical source left her feeling...invigorated, actually. So far she had not truly felt alive for a moment, or ever faced such a force far beyond the scope of her own. Ah. It was something that got her blood pumping, her mind racing in that brief time, and left her wanted to grin with a wide grin. This. This power like Sabu had was something she wanted to aspire to, to reach the level of in her own manner and way. Digging, magic, however it could be made possible. That drive to become better than she was welled up within her like a tidal wave, and indeed she could not help but allow the wicked and excited grin overtake her face completely in the process of this new wave of genuine feeling and...joy?

As the others began to talk again, Lyminia did her best to pull her composure back together, though this was a visible struggle for her with just how much she was feeling and thinking in the wake of it. Indeed, the effects of that "demonstration" had reaped their toll on her. She wanted to become strong. Stronger than anything. To be able to better herself and feel that..."alive" once more. It was not like she would ignore the tribe or anything. No, this would be for the good of herself and the tribe. At least, those members of the tribe that did not include the blood-colored dunce. Then again, oddly enough it was his possible attempt to get blood that left her feeling this way. Odd. Very, very odd if she were to be honest about the matter.

This aside, the fact was that the others and her were in agreement that they needed to get into town already, to get to the magic testing portion, and to get things done without further delay. If she could learn magic, she wanted to know and to work for it before the digging tools came along. If she could not learn magic, then she had no business trying to learn it and would devote her labor and hard work into other areas. Such as the simplicity of that particular matter in the eyes and mind of Lyminia.

"Hah...Yes, we should get going into town. Now, preferably." the female Goblin said, slightly huffing still after the exhilaration she had just felt, her breathing more rapidly slowing back down to a normal pace as she regained her composure,
 the female doing her best to regain formerly more somber appearance with that bit of camaraderie she had felt towards Sabu just before as well, "Many of us would like to know if we can use magic or not...and if you could tell us if there's places we could learn things like the human language from as well afterwards."

---

@Leotamer @DracoLunaris @Moonlit Sonata

[Assistant]
Sabu
After his brief display of power, Sabu seemed to calm down considerably. Or at least, calm down by his own standards. The Lesser Draconic Goblin let out yet another of what the newborns would likely have mentally registered by now as his trademark laugh, giving the newborns a slight nod. "Very well, very well. Those who would like to visit the human village, follow me! You will have the privilege of getting my personally-crafted tour of Ironwood City." He remarked, turning around and, without another word, setting off in the direction of the just-visible structure in the distance.

For those who would have chosen to follow him, the trek over was relatively short all things considered, and was largely uneventful. The pathways between the city and the forest seemed relatively well-cared for. A grand gate stood at the entrance to the city, two armored guards positioned at either end of it. With Sabu's approach, though, they visibly relaxed.

"<Well, look who's back. How'd the spar with the General go?>"

"<Gahaha! She's advancing quickly, but not enough to outpace me!>"

"<Careful man, keep this up and you might make her visit Old Crazy for another experiment.>"

"<Oh, huh, don't recognize these ones. They new?>"

"<Correct! It's their first time leaving the forest, so I'll be giving them a tour.>"

After the conversation between Sabu and the guards in the human language, Sabu turned back to the younglings. "When you enter the city, the guards put a spell marker on you so that they can track you, and remove it when you leave. It's their way of keeping tabs on people, and preventing something like someone entering the city, murdering somebody, and then sneaking out. You'll feel a light tingle, just don't try and resist it." He explained.

[User]
She was glad that they were finally under way and so quickly hurried after Sabu when he turned to go to the human town. As they got closer she had to admit it was rather interesting, though it was perhaps odd to see human dwellings before those of their clan and as a result she kept reminding herself to not think of all these things as normal so as to not instantly alienate herself from her actual home when they went to it.

She was rather perturbed by the explanation of the tracking mark, it sounded like a gross invasion of privacy. Would they know when she wet to the bathroom? That was not a nice thing to think about.

"They don't trust us do they? Bet they wouldn't track us if we were human." she muttered, mainly to herself. She was kind of assuming the guards wouldn't understand her like she could't understand them. be kind of embarrassing if they heard her badmouthing them

She made a mental note to look out for places to sneak into the town as they got their tour. It would be useful if she needed to do anything in the town that she did not want nosy humans to find out about. She wasn't sure if she would ever wan't to do anything that would require such sneakiness, but it would be nice to have the option available.

For the time being she let them put the tracking spell on her. It should be noted that Iris had run out of plants to chew on the way to the town, apart from the daisy crown that she was still sporting which she liked to much to ruin, which was probubly contributing to her souring mood.

[Assistant]
So this is the human city... I feel somewhat nostalgic looking at it...

Kluuto stood behind Sabu as he talked with the two guards guarding the gate to the city. It would make sense that they would have a security like that, seeing how there were a lot of dangerous monsters nearby. She heard about the spell marker and it could be a nice and easy way to prevent and punish crimes. However, she wondered if every city resident had it or it was just for foreigners. She heard Iris mumbling that they probably only gave it to goblins like them. Well, she herself didn't really mind it that much, but the invasion of privacy could certainly be a problem. Trading freedom for security. Perhaps the humans had to do it in this harsh world.


[System]
Gender: Female
Age: 14

Appearance:
5'2'' and 105 lbs, Jakobe barely hits her recommended weight. Certainly not an imposing figure. Much less so with her soft features and scared grey eyes. Her long red hair is always pulled back in a ponytail, away from her eyes. She usually wears a simple t-shirt and jeans under her layers of winter clothes, her only form of accessory being a blue diving watch on her left wrist. It's less for use than it is for sentimental value.

Personality:
Quiet, reserved, and jittery. Jakobe is a girl of few words. She's grown used to have very few people to talk to, so she's used to keeping her thoughts to herself. Extremely level-headed though easily flustered, Jakobe is a born survivor. She prefers being in the background, away from attention, safe in anonymity. She's small enough to get her way in that regard. Her family drilled paranoia and cynicism into her as a means to keep her safe. As such, she isn't very good or trusting when it comes to people. She hasn't seen many of them in her life, after all. But she is still a naïve child, and if you make her feel safe even a little bit, you'll find her almost attached at your waist. She is desperate for company, terrified of being left alone. Alone, she's defenseless.

Young as she is and so new to her powers, what with her ingrained skepticism, Jakobe has little to no faith in herself. Much less the prophecy. Like most of the people in her homeland, she finds it absurd, despite knowing of the powerful magic that exists in the world. All she wants is a home, somewhere to feel safe in. She's not really sure how far she'll go to get that.

"I'm not safe. I was once, but he took that from me. He takes it from all of us."

Bio:
After years of the Elemental King's infanticidal rule, Scandinavia's population has become small enough to be housed in few and scattered apartment blocks, sky-scraping behemoths, so tall that the only lightning that ever struck did so on their lightning rods. In Sweden, these are called jättetrakter. The people within these barely ever leave them. There's nothing but miles and miles of desolate towns in between them. The jättetrakter are slowly becomes ghost towns themselves. Their inhabitants age, and without children, their numbers only grow smaller. With the exception of Stockholm, most jättetrakter nowadays are only half filled with people, whole floors left void of life.

One such jättetrakt, where Skogstorp once stood, is more than just brick and metal. In its foundations lie ancient spells, enchanted runestones whose magic muddles even the Elemental King's. Its walls rumbled, power outages plagued it, and the skies seemed to be always ravaged by thunderstorms. It wasn't long before the place was called haunted by its inhabitants. When enough of them died out, the few people who lived in it abandoned it, in favor for the Stockholm jättetrakt. It's lonely silhouette was a grim reminder of the toll of the Elemental King's rule. Yet, its walls hid a secret that threatened to tear down this same rule: a child. Fourteen years ago, Bengta Söderström fell pregnant. She, her husband, and mother sought refuge within these haunted walls, hoping their daughter would be safe from the Elemental King. It was a only one of hundreds of abandoned jättetrakter. Surely the King wouldn't think much of it. They'd all heard of the prophecy, that the Elemental King's infanticidal rampage was due to his fear of eight children destined to overthrow him. Ridiculous. How could children overthrow a king? All they were sure of was that their daughter was in danger as long as she was a child. If they could just keep her hidden until adulthood, until she isn't a threat to the king, she would be safe. All they had to do was wait, and hope Jakobe would grow to womanhood before she could fall into the Elemental King's hand.

Jakobe, like most inhabitants of jättetrakter, never really saw the light of day, raised within the metal confines of her home. But she didn't mind. She was never drawn to the outside world. Out there she could be seen. Out there she could be hunted. She was happy, safe, even if just with the company of her parents, grandmother, and Mattias, the sole survivor of a elkhound litter they found in the higher levels of the jättetrakt. No, Jakobe wasn't lonely. What she was is afraid. The Elemental King's power only kept growing, and her family only kept wasting away. She could tell her father's knees didn't work as they did before, the growing grey hairs on her mother's head. Her grandmother grew weaker every day. The Söderströms were fighting against time. They were few, fading. None were warriors, and none could defend themselves from the Elemental King's wrath should word reach him of the child they keep in secret.

Their worst fear became true when one night a group of rangers sought shelter in their jättetrakt. They found young Jakobe in the lower levels, and when they attempted to take her, her family came to her help. They lost. Her father, mother, and grandmother were all killed, and she was alone. One of the men grabbed Jakobe by the hair as she tried to escape and pulled. There was a blinding light, a sound like cymbals crashing together. The men fell to the ground, burnt and smoking, hearts no longer beating. Jakobe was next to her father's body, digging her face in his chest, sobbing.

More would come, she knew that much. She had no choice but to leave her home, or she would surely be captured by the Elemental King. She couldn't save her family, but she could honor them and carry on their task by staying alive. With only some supplies and Mattias at her side, Jakobe left her home. She had no idea where to go, no idea what her newfound powers meant. She only knew she had to move. Nowhere was safe. Not as long as the Elemental King was alive.

Element: Thunder/Lightning
Power: Technopathy. Jakobe can communicate with and control technology, which made upkeep of the jättetrakt easy. It's a power she doesn't really know she has. Her family always thought Jakobe was just really good with technology, so that's what she believes.
Location: Currently the Danish coast, just past the Øresund Bridge. She's exhausted right now. It's a long bridge.
Family: Åke Söderström (father), Bengta Söderström (mother), Catrine Nyberg (grandmother)
Friends: Mattias
Sentimental Attachment: A watch she took from her father's corpse
Other: Nut allergy. Oddly comfortable in confined places. English is like a second language to her. Thick accent,though.

Pet Name: Mattias (Mats)
Pet Age: 7
Pet Gender: Male
Pet Species: Norwegian Elkhound

Pet Personality:
Mattias, as any elkhound, is an extremely loyal, brave, powerful beast. Having been raised by Jakobe, he shows her complete dedication and would do anything to keep her safe. He would never back down from a fight for her sale, not even against creatures twice his size, as elkhounds do. Mattias has tons of energy and needs to release it, oftentimes in the form of bouncing along his master, running in circles, or even digging holes in random places. He is Jakobe's only friend, and she his. Anyone that threatened either of them has hell coming.

[User]
Copenhagen was quiet. Jakobe didn't know whether to be relieved or scared. But Mattias didn't seem to be worried in the least, judging by his ever-energetic appearance. His judgement was enough for Jakobe. Still, there was no harm in a little wariness. She stuck to the back alleys, crossing every street with a small, nervous prayer.

In the distance stood three giant jättetrakter. Though they probably aren't called that, Jakobe thought. That was a Swedish word. She wondered what the Danish word was for them was. Whatever it was, they were an oddly comforting sight. Jättetrakter were designed so that the people who lived in it never had to leave them. Some levels were entirely apartments, others were shopping centers and food courts. There were levels made entirely for the production of food, acres of land where crops fed off artificial light. The highest levels were the power plants that gave the entire building energy. The underground levels were water treatment facilities and dumps. Jättetrakter were entirely self-sustained. Which is why the countries that had employed them all had such concentrated populations. Jättetrakter needed a certain amount of people for them to function. Most people were more than happy to move to the giant apartment blocks. Jättertrakter meant there might not be a lot of people walking amok, which meant less danger of being spotted.

Jakobe found herself frozen in her tracks. A lump formed in her throat, her limbs felt heavy, and her eyes began to sting. Her mind went back to her home, to a month ago. To blood. She stood there for a while, her grip so tight on the handlebars that her knuckles became white. Eventually she was able to snap back to Copenhagen. Her eyes fell on Mattias sitting in front of her, staring up at his master. "Let's not take any chances," she said, more at herself than her Mattias, then began pedalling again.

After nearly two hours of back alley bike riding, shortly after the Sun set, Jakobe saw a pyramidal blue roof with spear-like extensions. It was curious architecture to say the least. But something about it seemed to call Jakobe. She found herself headed towards it without even realizing it. She skidded to a stop before the entrance, but Mats bounced on inside it. He deemed it safe. With a shrug, Jakobe followed him inside.

"Mats!" she squealed as she stepped off her bike, "This is a train station."

[Assistant]
✦ Changi Bay, Singapore ✦

 Hushed whispers of nosy bystanders were beginning to turn Nicholas' ears red. There was quite a crowd gathering now. Glaring into the faces of countless strangers who all looked down on him in pity only pissed him off more. Despite being unable to understand the language, it was hard to miss when someone was talking about you. Their stares sharp as knives, the injured young man grit his teeth and let out a low snarl; like a cornered beast ready to pounce. With what little energy he had left, Nick sprang to his feet and thrust his chest out at a young couple who were muttering under their breath.

 "This ain't a freakin' show! Quit staring!" He spat, the pair shuffling backwards at the young mans threatening outburst. Through the anxious expressions plastered across their faces, Nicholas couldn't tell whether or not they understood him. Though when the young couple, as well as the rest of the group, began to disperse he knew for sure they had taken the hint. Without a need for the tough guy act, Nicholas slumped down against a post and began panting. With the throbbing pain in his ribs and gut, he wasn't sure he could make it much further.

 "Hey, are you alright? You look hurt? What's your name?" The voice sounded faint and reserved, like that of an angel. That thought really gave cause for alarm. Surely Nicholas wouldn't be so lame as to die from a few aches and a knee to the gut. On closer inspection though, Nicholas saw a young lady rush to his side. The blades in her hands scattered into a flurry of dazzling shards. Nicholas was barely able to speak at the sight, but was happy to accept her assistance in standing up. With an arm slung around her shoulder, Nicholas couldn't help but pass up the opportunity to make light of the situation.

 "I thought the Prince was supposed to rescue the Princess, yet here we are." God that was lame. Straightening himself up as best he could, Nicholas cleared his throat before continuing to talk as if he hadn't said anything.
"I'm alright, just got roughed up by some goons. The names Nick."

Sanata, @DragonKingUK

[User]
Danish sure is a lot like Swedish, Jakobe thought to herself. She was surprised by how easily she was able to understand the signs hanging from the sealing and some of the brochures and maps lying around. She picked one up and recognized the outline of Sweden, Denmark, and Germany, multiple lines running across them. It was a station map of a train, ICE. Almost absentmindedly she stuffed the map in her pocket and went further into the train station, unconsciously looking for the train it described. Surely enough, she soon found a train with the same initials from the map on its side. She ran along the rail to the nearest doors. The train was dark, just like all the monitors around the train station. They'd all probably been off for the last couple of years. There wasn't much travel nowadays, and what little there was was mostly through handheld teleporters. Jakobe would've killed for one of those just about now. Like most of the rest of the world, she saw little point in any other mode of transport. Specially trains.

"Wait here," she turned to Mattias, "Sit!" Mattias obeyed and Jakobe turned to the train doors. She knew what to do, she knew she could do it. But the only time she actually did it was a reflex. And she'd killed people. Suddenly she realized how close Mattias was to her. "Actually," she said as she led Mattias away from the train. She pointed to a spot a good fifteen feet away from the train doors, "Sit here." Obedient as ever, Mattias did as told and watched as Jakobe returned to the train.

"Okay," Jakobe took a deep breath, widening her stance in front of the doors. If anyone had been watching, they might have made the wrong assumption that Jakobe knew what she was doing just based on her stance and determined frown. They would be horribly mistaken. She honestly had no idea. Still, she closed her eyes and concentrated, visualising herself on the other side of those doors. After a few moments of doing so, nothing happened. All she accomplished was give herself a headache. She stomped her foot in frustration, but before she could open her mouth to shout, the familiar sound of cymbals crashing flooded her ears and threatened to crack her skull open. Then came the sudden weightlessness. Almost immediately she once again felt gravity's pull and found her feet in solid ground again.

"Vad i helvete?!" She stumbled in surprise, falling hard. She was even more surprised to find herself inside of the train, not a bit of destruction in her wake. Only the soft crackle of electricity and some of her hairs on end indicated that she had in fact teleported. Mattias had come bounding to the door and sat, staring sadly at Jakobe from across the glass doors. She smiled at him with a wave.

Oh, my God, I can't believe I got it. Jakobe squealed in excitement with a little jump. Her smile disappeared as she realized she has teleported. A second time. There was no denying it now, no escaping. She was the reason so many children before her had been killed, why her family was killed. Jakobe had dreamed of being many things, but one of the Chosen was not one of them.

Her mind would've continued down this train of thought had she not realized something else. "Wait." She turned looked around at the dark train. "What the heck do I do now?"


[System]
"There are two kinds of pride, both good and bad. 'Good pride' represents our dignity and self-respect. 'Bad pride' is the deadly sin of superiority that reeks of conceit and arrogance." - John C. Maxwell
Age: 16
Gender: Female
Nationality: Russian
Appearance:
Nonna is an average looking woman, circa 173 centimeters tall. Coming from the cold Siberia, her complexion is fairly pale. The girl weighs around 70 kilograms, yet doesn't look overweight, but rather imposing with her gymnastic figure.

Her face is quite angular, dominated by her icy blue eyes and snow blond hair that reaches below her shoulders. She doesn't like to wear makeup as her hobbies leave her sweating profusely more often than not and it would just be a bother.

She likes to wear clothes that display her social class in some manner, yet are utilitarian in nature. Most often her winter clothes would be lined up with fur rather than synthetic materials, but keep enough pockets and easily cleaned outer material.

She carries herself straight, whipped out by her athletic hobbies, military family background and a good dose of pride. She seems aloof, as even when she smiles her lips barely arch up. It's hard for her to just stand still and she often chooses to pace instead, do something with her hands or at least chew a gum.

History:
Nonna is the daughter of an English fashion designer and a Russian officer. Despite being of mixed descent and having some of the English patronizing bigotry in her blood, she considers herself Russian as that is where she grew up.

Never being short for money, Nonna lived the life of luxury. She had however many expectations put into her, as the only heir to both the clothes company and to her father's military tradition that reached as far back as the Tsars. She could never shake the feeling that her father would have liked to have a son as a firstborn instead, but despite that she succeeded in overcoming every challenge he put in front of her, even considering enlisting in the military rather than going to the UK to a business academy that would prepare her for the other half of her inheritance.

Personality:
Due to her upbringing, Nonna is well mannered and won't shy from a conversation with anyone. That however doesn't mean you are going to like what she says to you. She is downright cold most of the time, but under the ice is a heart. Normal people and their problems don't interest her as much, but if you have something special or even unique about you, she just might come talk to you.

Her friends she considers family and will do much for them, but if you get on her bad side, you'll find out why Stalingrad still strikes fear to the hearts of Germans to this day. Her biggest flaw and yet a strength would be her pride, which can be exploited against her and yet is the source of her success.

In her free time, she likes to equally engage both her body and her mind. A bit 'damaged' by her family's social status, she is slightly above the amusement of the 'peasants', choosing a bit eccentric - and expensive - hobbies.

She treats Pawnchessmon with respect and as an equal partner, both of them striving to be the best they can be. They both would have liked it better if they could do that on their own, but they grudgingly acknowledge their partnership makes both of them much stronger.

Skills:
Fencing: Nonna has been training her swordsmanship since her early teens, becoming rather proficient with the weapon.
Tactician: Trained by chess, poker and with knowledge of military, Nonna can usually come up on top of statistically stronger opponents due to her admittedly ruthless plans.

Digivice: The color of Nonna's digivice is black, with a rim around the display and the buttons being made in silver.

Trivia:

* Voice actor: Marina Devyatova
* Theme: Youtube
* She is disgusted by anything lower than a fish on the evolution scale and downright scared of spiders.
* Nonna always keeps her hands and mouth busy.
* She speaks fluent English albeit with a thick accent, but when zoning out or under strong emotion, she tends to slip back to Russian.

Relationships:
TBD
Species: Pawnchessmon (Black)
Apparent gender: Female
Appearance: See the wiki link
Personality:
Pawnchessmon is a rather silent character, preferring to let the much more self confident Nonna to do the talking. Her faceless appearance also doesn't exactly help, and she could be mistaken for a statue for most of the time.

She is fiercely loyal to Nonna, to the point of following her and her commands even if she doesn't agree with them, because she considers her partner to be the 'king' piece on the board. Also, as a digimon taking on characteristics of a footman, she doesn't have too many qualms with using deadly force.

Her own ambitions are obstructed in mystery even to her partner, but she chose Nonna because she believes the girl can give her the strength to become the queen - the most powerful piece on the board.

In her later digivolutions, Pawnchessmon's moral compass starts improving, although as she enters the ranks of chess nobility, she isn't able to acquire black and white look on the world, relishing in intrigues and tricking her opponent. She does however get the strong urge to protect her own side in the conflict. When biomerged with Nonna as Queenchessmon, she is a very formidable opponent, strong both in body and in mind, and completely unforgiving of anything and anyone who crosses her path or touches anything dear to her.

Attacks:

* Pawn Spear: Stabs with her spear.
* Pawn Buckler: Charges with her buckler held up.
* Pawn Lightning: Fires a shockwave with a lightning fast strike.
* Vpered!: Pawnchessmon's first move is made at double its normal speed.
* En passant: When Pawnchessmon's opponent charges into their first attack, she gains a burst of speed to dodge it and strike the enemy from behind.
* Promotion: Pawnchessmon gains mega-class power for a single strike, provided she is located behind the target's back. This depletes her power completely and resets her into an In-training if the target is an Armor digimon, Champion or Ultimate, or to a fresh if the target is a Mega or DNA digimon.

Digivolution line:

* Fresh: Metalkoromon
* In-training: Kapurimon
* Rookie: Pawnchessmon (Black)
* Champion:Knightchessmon (Black)
* Dark Champion: Mekanorimon
* [Crest] Ultimate: Rookchessmon (Black)
* Dark ultimate: Gigadramon
* [Biomerge] Mega: Queenchessmon

	+ Where the regular version has pink trim Nonna's has blood red color.
	+ Instead of the heart motives, this variant has skulls.
	+ Rather than a cricket stick, this one carries a lance.
* Dark mega: Chaosdramon

Trivia:
* Voice actor: Emily Marie Neves
* The Mon never seems to get easy, always standing in attention and alert even when asleep.

Relationships:
TBD

[User]
When Angemon began to talk and explain, Kazero was still looking around at the rest of the children and digimon present. He was etching their forms and shape to memory encase they were separated sometime in the future. If Tsunomon's original reaction to finding Kazero near the beach rather than Kamina was anything to go by, then it's possible that even humans in this digital world could be the enemy. While panning his gaze from the back of the council room everyone was gathered in, Kazero spotted Tsunomon's gaze locked onto the blue furred dog-looking digimon next to a kid similarly blue hair and clothes. Kazero could only think of one reason for Tsunomon to set his eyes upon another digimon in this group so intently. When Angemon explained that only 8 digidestined arrived thus far Kazero began to count the kids in the room. Before he could confirm the suspicion he had over Angemon's math, Tsunomon broke the silence.

"Seven digidestined." corrected Tsunomon. "I'm not sure specifically why, but my tamer's digivice brought his cousin into the digital world instead." Tsunomon looked to Kazero to explain himself, throwing Kazero into the limelight forcibly. Kazero looked at Tsunomon wide-eyed and now heavily self conscious.

"Err... okay. So - my name is Kazero. You can call me Zero.... or don't, it's cool. I was in the real world with my cousin. We were being attacked by a digimon," Kazero paused to glance at Tsunomon's face to more accurately recall their prior conversations. "A Devimon. The light came from the sky, carrying the digivice. We were attacked and the digivice attempted to shield us. I got knocked into a river with the digivice and then woke up in your world. I'm sorry about the mix up, but I think my cousin is hurt in the real world. You said something about Digiyears. Tsunomon was explaining that time in the digital world is different to that of the real world. Originally I was going to ask for a way to leave and get my cousin back, but it sounds like the amount of time it would take me in the real world, this will all be over by then. And you're already missing two people." Kazero paused, taking a depth breath and resolving his nerve. At the same time, Tsunomon - starting to second guess what Kazero was about to say - began to feel weak and jelly-like. "I'll take his place here and go back to him afterwards-"

"No." replied Tsunomon flatly. Kazero turned to the unrepenting judas.

"But I-"

"No" insisted Tsunomon. Kazero scooted down to Tsunomon.

"Dude! Come on man! Why are you doing this? You guys need help now. I'm not what you wanted but I'm here." protested Kazero in a whisper.

"You are not what I expected. I expected a digidestined. Instead I got his civilian sidekick. You have no business in this war. You have no business in this room. You are useless and only present a liability and danger to everyone else here and you need to leave." persisted Tsunomon, raising his voice so that everyone in the room could hear his words. Kazero stood up straight, realising that Tsunomon was not going to start a dialogue with him. "Good people have died! More will likely follow! This is not an opportunity for you to play a hero!"

"Hey! I'm not disrespecting what you're going through! I'm saying I want to help! I know this is serious and I know I can do something no matter how small it might be. I got the digivice to transport me here! I've spent most of my life around Kamina. Something must have rubbed off-" Tsunomon headbutted Kazero, making him drop to the ground gripping his forehead.

"Are you stupid or just belligerently moronic? The anomaly of the digivice reacting to you instead of my tamer are so minute I can't even be sure it is a full one percent!" barked Tsunomon.

"One percent..." replied Kazero. "That's Enough. Even if I only have one percent of what makes Kamina special, then I can definitely prove myself useful." Kazero struggled back to his feet, his forehead grazed from where Tsunomon's horn scratched him. "You hate me. That's okay. I'm used to that much, but I'm not going to fight back. When this is over and we're victorious and your people get your homeland back, you'll want to meet Kamina and I'm not going to tell him I made enemies with you on the first day I met you." added Kazero. His voice was lower than before when he was basically shouting against the world. "I'll carry the digivice for you until you can get hands of your own. After that, I'll stay out of your way bro." negotiated Kazero.

[Assistant]
Salamon managed to sneak out of the room and followed Angemon through the hallways up until Kaburterimon and the other Digidestined became visible, realizing this most likely meant Angemon wouldn't go out and fight she hightailed it back and ran into the room completely unnoticed as far as she knew.

Hawkmon who did notice the Rookie Digimon leaving but didn't say anything because he knew her reasons was relieved to see her return unharmed and flew over to her while Angemon was talking about the current situation in Digiworld. "You're lucky, you could have been killed." He whispered to her. "As if, Angemon would have protected me."

After the Angel Digimon was finished talking one of the newcomers and his Digimon started arguing, part of Danny wanted to interfere but some had good points and probably needed to work things out for themselves in their own way so he seemingly ignored them.  "While what you said was no doubt important Angemon, I think it's better to focus on more practical matters. For example how are we supposed to use these Digivices?"

[User]
Listening to the tale of this world, Nonna forced herself to hold the sigh until the very last moment - and what a sigh it was. "So, in a nutshell. What you have is five digimon calling shots for everybody. What happens is that one out of five that could possibly challenge them on equal grounds decides to enter a fight with 20% odds of success, and as his last wish after his nigh-inevitable failure, he tells the powerful being with the ability to bend barriers between worlds not to erase the evil, but to bring a couple of kids in to do the fighting? Yeah, no."

Nonna finished her summary with her head tilted to the side and stupid-cheeky smile on her face. "If I understand correctly, none of you are permanently destroyed if you are defeated. Which leads me to wonder - if most of you got up in arms, how could possibly only five digimon regardless of power stand up to the rest of the world throwing hell their way, when it would come to you at little cost in life. If you intend to win a war without sacrifices, clinging to the hope of mighty heroes rising and solving your problems for you, you have a rough wake up scheduled." the Russian sneered, waiting for the digimon to answer before she continued.


[System]
spoiler, this character is set to 'die' and be inactive for the remainder of the game
Species: Half-automaton, half-golem.
Age: At least a century (factual), thirty-something (appearance).
Gender: Male.
Appearance: Looks like a regular handsome middle-aged man with greying black hair. When viewed from relatively close, his skin has several slices throughout, and the reflective sheen of the inflexible ceramic material it's made of could not be mistaken. Dons any such variety of male medieval formal wear.
Bio: History tells of a great human painter from more than a century ago. Henri Dominique Greene. His works, signed 'H.D.G.' at the back, still adorn the walls of Kindeance's castle. Portraits of old monarchs. Images of nature, oddly lacking for animals. A medical document stating that he began coughing out blood, whenever he painted animals who'd then come out alive from their canvases. A letter to the royal mage whom he courted and was later engaged to, informing of his decision to isolate from society. A second letter, an invitation to his funeral, held at the Greenes' mansion.
 None but the King have yet made the connection between that painter of old, and this non-painter who shares nearly the same name, aside from the surname of his true mother before the Greenes' adoption after her passing. Nowadays, he roams the kingdom as a mage and handyman, and, since very recently, lecturer to the prince.
Traits: Golem Automaton - Inorganic body. Immune to physical pain. Immune to poison and disease. Immune to basic needs like food, water, air and sleep. Absorbs mana within close range. Converts most sources of energy into mana. Resistant to most forms of magic. Has a 30-foot radius of perception (via a low, constant emission of infrared; has a byproduct of perceiving temperatures) around his core's center of mass. Hears by picking up vibrations on those in contact with the core.
 Metal Sense - Can sense most metals and the global north direction. Not a spell.
 Artificial Qi Vessels - Spells only affect those under at most indirect physical contact.
Skills: Eidetic Memory
 Lesser Occult - Limited knowledge on witchcraft and demonology.
 Arcane Aptitude (mastery, source) - Can mimic others' spells, given enough exposure or instruction.
Spells: Telekinesis (innate)
 Temperature Increase (innate)
 Core Spreading (innate) - Injects a piece of his golem core into an object, qualifying the object as himself for the purposes of other spells. Lasts for up to 2 spells.
 Inorganic Repair (100%, Ember)
 Ward (2%, Scroll of Ward)
 Flash (0%, Scroll of Flash)
 Arcane Bolts (5%, Scroll of Arcane Bolts)
 Detect Magic (1%, Cedar)
 Enhance/Grow Vegetation (2%, Cedar)
 Ultravision (1%, Jazdia Crystalspark)
 Incorporeal Form (1%, Solomon Sparrow)
Equipment: Bottle of a curious powder, small  - Inflicts sneezing and nose blindness.
 Cedar's inventory - Dark brown and green 'holocaust cloak'/robes. Large wooden staff. Small hand axe. Small boot knife. Ball of twine. Antler knapping tool. Flints. Modified water barrel. Rope. Shovel.
 Crate of vodka bottles × 2
 Crate of whiskey bottles × 1
 Deck of cards - 52-card deck, made of cardboard, paste and paper.
 Henri's Eye × 2 - Enchanted orbs of ivory, used to see. Has to be within 3 meters of user.
 Iron kite shield
 Ironsword Family Medallion - Belongs to Matilda's birth father.
 Map to the ruins
 Metal flask - Mineral oil.
 Pocket watch
 Scroll of Ward × 3
 Scroll of Flash × 3
 Scroll of Arcane Bolts × 3
Other: Insides made of mostly iron.
 Black shoes with bronze soles. Loud clacking footsteps on hard surfaces.
 Keeps calling Cedar 'Cedrick'.
 Has never killed anyone. Yet.

[User]
Solomon Sparrow
Location: Royal Hunting Forest, Kindeance

---

 The longer Solomon remained at the forest, uncovering what the guards already knew. It is true that some time had passed between the incident and now. Perhaps it was enough for the scents to fade even for Cedar. Yet, with much of the evidence from the intrepid attack still present, the golden apple of progress lay just beyond the reach of the investigators. Solomon felt out of his element, as neither the injured nor the dead were present anymore. That possibility was one of the main reasons he continued. Since they had since been removed, buried, and not available, Solomon pondered different methods of uncovering the true trail.

 "It was an idea. Not a popular one in more ways than one it seems." said Solomon, dropping the idea of involving the horses, living or dead. The only true clue they had was Cedar eliminating the red herring trails in favor of the one lead by blood. A promising lead, but in the time it took for them to lead, that trail would only go so far. At least it could lead to a direction and maybe down a road. At least there, Solomon could direct the group the likely towns.

 Another clue surfaced with Matilda recognizing the arrows Henri had collected. So far the arrows were the only thing the abductors left behind. Made in Rorthgaard. Solomon had been there several times, the smith Matilda had mentioned wasn't world renown, but for the many who knew of him, his work was unmistakable. However, the village was only a few miles away. It would take a horse less than an hour to travel that distance, even if they rode straight avoiding the roads. At best, the information there would confirm the assassins may have passed through. Unless the bloodied trail led that way, it was best if Anderson's men looked into it.

 Solomon looked over the map Anderson had presented. His trackers had covered an extensive amount of ground, but there were still a couple paths left unchecked. "You managed to investigate half of them it seems. It may be too late to gather anything useful from the other trails at this rate. You have the arrows from Rorthgaard, a potential enemy informant at the castle, and the bloodied trail, which Cedar could lead us through. If its manpower you need, I can provide, as so long as it's not a technical skill you require. Otherwise, I don't see much more usefulness staying in the forest itself."

[Assistant]
"I dun' need anythung as smells like em' dipshits-- i's the dogs as needs at--- Yas can fin' a splotch er two o'er yonder... Not that yas can see it 'spose... If'n ya wants ta track the idjiots as napped the boy, I keen help with tellin' the dogs-- but I's agrees with the funny white man on thisa one." Cedar rumbled. "If'n we split up, we's can cover more ground. Miss Matilda keen take the doctor an' Mr Anderson an his dogs to chase down the idjiots-- This feller an' me can go track down the missin' horses. We kin catch up la'er."

Cedar paused for a moment, as if contemplating an impossible task, before attempting to emulate Anderson's whistle, and failing miserably. He tried again several times.

"Gull-darnit-- Mr Anderson, kin ya call the boys o'er agin? I ain't ne'er been able ta do 'at... --On accounta muh mouth looks like 'is-"

Cedar pointed to his face then opened his mouth wide, revealing a rather frightening compliment of very sharp, meat tearing teeth with gaps between them where they would meet when closed. There were differences with what a keen observer would identify as being 'properly bear'-- false molar surfaces lined the insides of the last 4 incisors, before the real molars, indicating his human parentage-- but in all other ways, that mouth was "Decidedly Bear", with a dark colored and corrugated roof, a long and slightly purple tongue, and a long narrow shape. It was decidedly not suited to whistling in any capacity.

Anderson made a bemused wince and shook his head, then put his fingers in his mouth and whistled. Once more the dogs bounded up in a jumble of excited bawling, drooling, and tail wagging.

"Your show Master Cedrick" chuckled the man with a smirk.

"Thank'ya kindly Mr Anderson" retorted Cedar with his own.

After a few minutes with the dogs looking between Cedar and Anderson confusedly, he led them off to various parts of the scene, pointing out the particular scent they should be tracking. Anderson knew they had picked it up when they made their characteristic 'alert bawling' and animated pouncing with false starts down the trail. They were indeed good boys, and had not been given the signal to track, but eagerly wanted to.

Satisfied that the dogs knew what to hunt down, Cedar walked back up to the congregation in that lumbering shuffle of his, with the dogs trotting behind. As he reached where Anderson and the others were standing, they made furtive looks and whimpers between Anderson and the area Cedar had indicated, amid tail wags and excited eyes.

"'ere-- At'll do it. I got's muh own trail ta follow, ifn' we gunna fin' dem horses."

Cedar smiled, and probably shouldn't have. It looked more like an aggressive display than a grin. Only the alert posture of his ears gave it away as something different, besides his body posture and chuckling.

" 'is Way Mister Henri!" he chuckled, swinging his big head in the direction of preferred travel. He had already scoped out a good portion of the scene, and between it and what he remembered of his interview with the bird, he had a good idea which way to go. The horse tracks would almost assuredly all re-converge into a single path at some point, but it would save time to take the most likely and most direct set of tracks, which headed West.

--------

(some time later)

--------

Cedar's tracking of the animals took a meandering path through the trees, then over a clearing beside a rather lovely lake. The horses were together, but spread out just enough to be little shits about being caught, grazing on the grass leisurely. They did not really seem to appreciate Cedar initially either, acting spooky and stupid-- taking off with snorts, flagged tails, and farts amid squealing neighs to trot away from him repeatedly before he managed to finally get though their thick dumb heads that he wasn't there to eat them. They were robust, if squat little animals (to his perspective anyway), between 1.1 and 1.6 meters to the tops of their backs. Far too small for somebody like him to ride-- but maybe Henri could use one.

Some of the animals had managed to get their saddles and other tack free of themselves-- tearing the straps that had held them on, via aggressive rubbing and 'clever' use of low lying tree limbs. Thankfully it was fairly conspicuous and easily located in or near the offending foliage. The saddles and gear that were still in place were encrusted in dried grass and mud, from where the animals had tried to roll in the soft earth near the lake. It would take a whole day for each saddle to get them clean again.

One of the horses was clearly the Venerer's, given its very different livery. Cedar was glad it had made it, and the horse itself was surprisingly happy that its 'person' had survived the frightening encounter. Cedar liked 'happy endings.'

It took a reasonably long time to rifle through the contents of 6 horses worth of saddle bags. Most of the contents were camping supplies and 'abduction kit'-- Ropes, cloth gags, and small bottles of a curious powder that made Cedar's nose tickle, before making him go nose-blind. Lots of sneezing and boogery snorts later, it slowly started to return, but the momentary disability worried and troubled him-- He worried that the dogs might run into such an obstacle. Perhaps it was for the best that the abductors had been cut off from their supply. Henri did not act like he found the sight of Cedar having a snotty sneeze attack at all amusing. If anything, he looked rather put off by it, and recoiled a bit when Cedar located, then proceeded to try and offer the last item he dug out of this latest bag.

Among the miscellaneous odds and ends of camping and abduction kit, there was a curious bit of parchment, emblazoned with a map with a curious X on it. The map depicted a lake, not unlike the one they were currently next to, with what looked like some ruins in a marsh to the south, with the ruins clearly indicated.

" 'ere-- *(SNORT)* -- 'Ave a look at 'is--"

[User]
Henri grabbed the map, cross-referenced it with the lake, and figured out their heading. This has to be where Young Master is kept, right? No... This is probably a mere meeting point at best. Five days removed from the incident, there's probably nothing left in it to check. It wouldn't quite hurt to look though, being this close by.
 If there's any danger, he's confident in his own abilities. A bear of his size should be no slouch in combat either. Henri thinks of this, unknowing of Cedrick's age or actual combat experience.
 "We should swing by it. Just us two. I don't quite feel like calling on Matilda and the others, they're far away at this point." At worst, they'd be hindrances that Henri would have to protect or struggle to coexist in battle with. At best, he'd have wasted their time for nothing, after already having agreed to split up.

 Having already memorized the map due to his eidetic memory, he hands the map back to Cedrick and basically wills the items to sort themselves onto the mat that unfurled itself from previously being a saddle bag. Metals rolled on the right, and non-metals found themselves on the left. "We should sort all of this out first, though. Which one's yours, mine, or evidence. For starters," he grabs one of the small bottles of unknown powder. A potent irritant, seeing how affected Cedrick was by just a whiff of it. This should serve useful in the future, somehow.

 A force of habit. Henri drank from his metal flask that he pulled from inside his jacket, remembering the lake and the possible moistness of the air near it and the eventual marsh.


[System]
Age: 16
Demon: Defeat
Personality: Strong but shy, he's not afraid of much. Even before Defeat took residence in his head he often rose to challenges, failing more often than not. He has a habit of failing drastically and dragging himself back up and trying again. Stubborn as a mule, he will fight till the very end. Rez hates his full name, and so goes by Rez as his nickname. A little naive Rez tries his hardest, loves music, and books. He can fight, having been taught by an over protective older brother, but isn't necessarily the brightest crayon in the box. Not that he's an idiot, just that there are many things he thinks are unnecessary to know, or can be bothered learning about. Practical, that the word, Rez likes practical things.
Bio: WIP

[User]
After thinking for another moment, Kyo eventually just nodded his head. "I see, that makes enough sense. Thank you for the consideration, that's very kind of you." Honestly, he thought that the other one had a point as well; it would certainly be difficult to live like this with the demons. If they could do so, however, there probably wouldn't ' the many limits as to what they could do with the rest of their lives. As long as they were careful not to reveal their situation, anyway.

Still, if they could find another way out, he didn't doubt that many, if not all of them, would probably take that route. It wasn't sounding too likely just yet, though.

Stifling another yawn, the tired male shook his head in an attempt to stay alert.

[Assistant] "No there isn't any other way to get rid of the demons without dying. The demons are a part of us now. If they aren't inside us we die. I don't know what you want to do with your life. I am here to offer you a option. Whether you take that option or not is up to you. I think that despite our demons and the negative things that come from having them that we can do good in the world. I don't know how yet but I think it is a possibility. For now why don't I show you to your rooms so you can rest and think?" Katherin replies.

[User] At Katherin's reply Rez groaned, half at what she had said and half at the pain that was starting to lace through his head. It wasn't much at the moment, just a dull throb, but over time it would grow. The voice was right, he had to challenge someone, but he was also scared he would lose. "Great idea. Mister talkative here" he gestured at Kyo…… "I missed your name, looks like he is gonna collapse, and I really need to…… to……" he stammered to a stop, fighting inwardly with the voice, hoping for a blank that wasn't coming. "Please tell me you have nice beds, because I ain't sleeping on the floor………" He trailed off again, grabbing at his head as the voice started screaming, yelling that he had to phrase that more brutally, to provoke her, all of it above the pounding of his headache. The problem he thought, was that, even though accepting challenges was easy for him, delivering them was not always.

[Assistant]
Kyo almost missed what was being said, so it took a moment to fully process what he had heard before he could type out an acceptable response. "I should be alright, this is not the first time I have had to deal with the differences in time zones. Still, I agree that a rest would be very beneficial. Thank you."

Since the boy nearby seemed to be acting so strangely, he stopped for a moment to look toward him. "Are you alright? Is something bothering you?"

[User] "I'm Fine just…… I just need to sle…… Challenge…… Fight……" The voice was slipping through, speaking with Rez's voice, "No! I…… Fight you…… In … a bou…… , Game of Snap!" Rez shot the last part out in the hope there would be no chance for the voice to intervene. "I challenge you to a game of snap." He knew it was crazy, and that the others would probably think he was weird, but the others weren't normal either. He looked at Kyo, pleading with his eyes that the other boy would agree to the challenge. He didn't know why he chose Kyo, but now the challenge was out……… He just hoped it was accepted.

[Assistant] The dark-eyed boy watched quietly for a moment before typing his response. "Snap?" He tilted his head to the side, giving the other male a slightly curious look. "I'm not sure that I know of it, but I can certainly try."

[User] Rez's shoulders slumped in relief, he hadn't even realized he was tense. But not knowing what Snap was? ……Okay. "Well snap is a game of card, where you each get half the deck and turn over one card per turn. If two cards of the same number come up in a row you slam your hand down and shout 'SNAP'. You try to be the first person to do this. If you are the first person you collect all the cards in the 'discard' pile and start a new pile. The aim of the game is to get all the cards." As he was talking, the voice having dropped it's voice by a few decibels, Rez hooked a deck of card out of his pocket and started shuffling them nervously.

[Assistant] Kyo nodded at the instructions, watching carefully as the other boy shuffled the cards. "It sounds simple enough. Should we take a table for the game?" The request had been a bit odd, but seeing how he had just been acting and the way he seemed to have loosened up a bit at that moment, the quiet boy wondered if perhaps it was an issue with his demon. Can it be calmed like that? How curious...

[User] "Yes a table might help, I always played it on the floor, but it's your choice as the challenged." Rez realized that it probably would have been easier to have picked a quick game, like go-fish, or memory, but snap had been what was in his head, so snap is what he had said. He looked at Katherin, hoping she didn't mind his being really rather rude. "You don't happen to have a spare table lying round?" He queried.

[Assistant] "A small table?" Katherine typed. She nodded. She indicsted for the two of them to follow her. She lead them down the hall past several doors to what she called the game room. It held a pool table. A round table. A foisall table a dartboard, and other game related items. "This is the game room. There are cards and chips over there."

[User] "Thanks" Rez said, grabbing a chair and slouching at the round table, He kept shuffling the cards, Ignoring the voice whispering that he should rig the game, the voice may be a scoundrel, but Rez hated to cheat, if he was going to win he was going to win this fair and square, whatever the consequences. As he dealt, splitting the deck into two piles, Rez asked something of Kyo; "Hey, can… um… you do me a favor? If I lose…… can you leave me alone for a little while?" He wasn't sure how harsh the consequence would be, but he never liked others to see his weak side. "Please?"

[Assistant]
Kyo looked around the room that Katherin had led them to in awe. This castle really was prepared for everything, it seemed. It made him wonder what other kinds of rooms it held. I'll have to ask for a full tour later, if she has time...

Turning back toward the girl before following the other male to the table, he nodded in gratitude. "Thank you, this is quite impressive." Once at the table, however, he couldn't help but worry a bit again at the way Rez looked while shuffling the cards. His request, too, sounded a bit...perhaps melancholy? Or maybe just tired? He wasn't sure, to be honest, but he nodded. If this was something to do with his demon, then it made sense that it probably ended with something less than pleasant to have others see.

Of course, I'm sure you know all about that by now, don't you? You had such interesting ones a couple of weeks ago, it's actually really fun trying to come up with ways to top that~.

[User] Finally, with two even piles of cards before him, Rez offered first pick to Kyo. "Gentleman first" he joked, covering up his dread for the end of the game.

[Assistant] Kyo placed his tablet down next to him on the table and took the card pile to his left, sliding it closer to where he was. Placing one hand on the top card, he nodded to indicate that he was ready and got ready to flip the card as soon as his opponent did so.

[User] Pulling the other pile closer to himself, Rez placed on thumb on top of the top card and his fingers in a position that left them ready to grasp the bottom face of said card. It meant that when he drew the card it was facing away from himself, leaving no room to call him a cheater; a favorite tactic of old opponents.

[Assistant] Kyo quickly flipped his card directly onto the table as soon Rez moved, somehow feeling an extra urgency to move quickly. Looking down at the result, he soon moved his hand back to his pile when he realized that the cards were different. Just as quickly as the first time, though, he drew a second card to place down a moment later.

[User] Kyo was Fast! Rez grinned matching his pace and flipping another few cards, blacks and reds, one after the other. It wasn't till about their seventh card that a match came up. Double sixes. Tugging his right hand, the one he had been using for flipping cards, out of the fray, Rez slammed his left hand towards the table, calling "Snap!" as he did so. It wasn't a rule to use the other hand, just habit.

[Assistant]
Kyo blinked at how quickly the other boy had claimed the cards, a bit too stunned to react himself for the moment. Perhaps he hadn't been as prepared as he thought after all. Either way, at least he was sure of how it worked now.

Nodding in acknowledgement, he placed his hand back on the top of his stack and started quickly flipping cards over again. Once another pair showed up, he tried to slam his hand down the same way Rez had before. Checking the cards after, he could see that it was a pair if fours this time.

[User] Well Rez though, He seems to have gotten the hang of the game Rez got himself another pair, and then accidentally attempted for a six and a nine, the voice urging him on. When he saw that they weren't even a pair he blushed scarlet red, much the same colour as his eyes, standing out radically against his white hair. "Sorry" He mumbled, shamefaced, before indicating he was ready to start again. But that had left him flustered, and for the next few pairs he barely realized they were there until they were gone.

[Assistant] Kyo took another few pairs, noticing that the boy in front of him seemed to have gotten a bit distracted. Now that he thought of it, he wasn't entirely sure what he was trying to get out of the game. Did he need to win or lose? What happened either way? While he was lost in his own thoughts, he almost didn't notice the next pair himself. He shook his head quickly as he tried to refocus.

[User] Missing a pair, and barely snagging another, Rez tried really hard to ignore the voice, yabbing on about random cards, cards that weren't even in play! Did the voice WANT to lose?! Gritting his jaw, Rez focused, at least as much as the voice would let him; and promptly lost another handful of pairs! Why in the world would the Voice want to lose? It knew as well as he did it was not pleasant, that there was a price to pay, but really he thought, it was probably because he had been the one to challenge, not to be challenged, as then the voice would help as much as it saw fit to. But that was beside the point. The point was slowly but surely Rez was losing, and he was going to take it like a man, ……or an albino boy at least.

[Assistant]
Kyo didn't really realize how many pairs he had collected until he lost another pair and took another look at his pile. It was getting pretty tall; there were probably only a few more pairs that could be played before the game ended. Though, he still didn't understand much besides the fact that the other male seemed to become more flustered as time went on.

Wait, should he have just let him win? Would that have been more helpful?

The realization made him hesitate at the next pair out of distraction, though he could see that it probably wouldn't do much good at this point when he tuned back in. Only a few cards left. It made him wonder, though; if they didn't get any matches for the last two cards, how would that affect things?

[User] Rez ran out of cards to place, he got quite a shock too, watching the center pile as he was, he reached for a card 'flipped it over' and realized he was holding nothing. Blinking he glanced at his nonexistent pile, a taste of bile rising in the back of his throat, there was only a slim chance for him to win now, a slim chance to continue the game, and he was going to take it, that slim chance. Glancing up at Kyo he explained what happened now; "Since I've run out of cards, you just keep putting cards down, and wait and see it ther is a pair, if one comes up and I get it, we continue playing normally, if however you get the pair, you win." He had known people to be in the same position he was in and come back and win the game, but that was few and far between, and not likely, but Rez always fought to the bitter end.

[Assistant] Kyo nodded, looking back to the table and flipping over more cards. Oddly enough, it seemed to be taking a really long time for a match to show up. Four, five, six...ten, twelve, fourteen... The air felt awkwardly tense to him by the time the sixteenth card revealed another pair. Almost doing a double take, he closed his eyes for a second as he felt his hand almost move on its own, just waiting for the sound of either person's hand hitting the stack in the center.

[User] Seconds, that's all it took. Rez was seconds behind Kyo, but those seconds cost him dearly. Spotting the pair Rez slammed his hand down, too slow, accidentally squashing Kyo's hand beneath his own. Already he could feel the pain beginning to lance through his head, ricocheting off his skull, reverberating, slowly growing stronger and stronger. Snatching his hand back from the table, Rez looked at Kyo, pleading with his eyes, hoping the other boy remembered that Rez just needed to be alone. He would thank him for the game later, when he could think clearly again. NO…… seconds, gimme seconds. Rez begged silently, struggling to keep his hands from trembling, a futile effort, what with his whole body shivering like he was out in the snow with summer clothes.


[System]
Age: 26

Sex: Male

Height: 5' 11"

Build: Tall-ish, lithe, and wiry.

Style: Ratty, unbuttoned, flannels and hole-ridden jeans.

Hair, face, other body things: Constant dark stubble, suitably cringy tattoo of the anarchic "circle-a" on his chest, scar on his lip (from when his ill-advised lip ring was torn out during a concert).

---

Concept: Tavish is a "retired" punk rocker who's youth was colored by poor choices, good music, and a distinct anti-authoritarian streak. A few rude awakenings led to him getting clean, but he never did regain a trust in authority. He inherited a bar from his retired parents and now leads a semi-legitimate life, harboring a great deal of resentment toward the powers-that-be.

Disposition: Caustic, adventurous, and impulsive, Tavish has started trying to be more easy-going and keep his short temper in check.

Fears: Handcuffs, helplessness, relapsing

Morals: Tavish sees the world as "us against them," and find his moral code a great deal more flexible when the victims are the powerful. Stealing from your neighbor is wrong, but shoplifting from a superstore is a-okay. It's shitty to bring your friends to a fight with the asshole down the street, unless that asshole is a cop. Tavish also prizes voluntary cooperation, even if he's not the easiest guy to work with.

History: Tavish was born to a Scottish father and an Irish mother in Glasgow, but his family moved to Utopia when he was thirteen. His father used all of his savings to purchase an old building that he converted to an almost-respectable pub. He aced every test he ever took in school, but displayed a pervasive apathy toward his studies. After several years of barely passing classes that were well within his ability, disciplinary action due to his proclivity for fighting, and a visit or two from the truancy officer, Tavish dropped out of school to start a band with two of his friends.

Their music career never really took off, but that didn't keep them from trying. None of them were virtuosos with their instruments, and Tavish's singing voice was only barely tolerable. There was little to set them apart from every other shitty three-chord punk band, but still they plugged away. Naturally, with the music came the drugs. Within two years, every member of the band was more or less dependent on some substance or another. Of course, drugs, punk rock, and a distrust of authority led to legal issues. Tavish served short jail stints for public intoxication, curfew and route violations, vandalism, and petty theft. During one of those jail stints, he was savagely beaten an officer after he made a joke about the officer's wife. The officer was reprimanded, but the incident was otherwise covered up. Tavish suffered a head injury that led to cortical blindness in his left eye.

Shortly after he got out of jail, his band played a small show in a bar on the outskirts of town. After the show, the bands drummer, Conn McCarthy, overdosed on heroin and was pronounced dead at the scene by paramedics. This shook Tavish to his core. He left the band and checked himself into rehab. He went back to his parents and was given a job in the bar. After a series of raids shut down other, less-reputable bars, his parents decided to sell the bar and leave town. Tavish, having some strange attachment to the city, convinced his parents to give him the bar and retire in Ireland.

Tavish was all set up to lead a normal, legitimate life, and it didn't suit him. He hired Sandra Claire, a down-on-her-luck Brooklynite, as his only other employee. Then, he fell in with the Resistance. He was risking everything his parents had built, and he loved it.

---

It was a slow night, and he was working alone. There were only a few people in the bar. Two grumbling old men sitting near his dad's beat-up old jukebox, complaining about Tav's choice in music. There was a middle-aged lady sitting at the bar, as far from the door as she could be, guzzling glasses of brandy as fast as he could pour them. Tavish was the only one working, and the relative quiet prompted a rare introspective mood. He idly looked over his liquor shelf, and moved to pick up a bottle. As he did so, he noticed a series of small, faded scars across his right knuckles. He frowned, remembering how he got them.

---

It had been two days after his twenty-first birthday. He'd just gotten out of jail, and his head still throbbed. He'd gotten the shit kicked out of him after he'd made a joke about one of the officer's wives. He'd taken a kick to the head, and his skull had bounced against the concrete floor of the cell. Damage to the occipital lobe. Loss of vision in his left eye. Bad, bad headaches.

He was pissed.

He'd have liked to get the cop who beat him, an Officer Beckem, but honestly, any cop would do. He, Conn, and Obi got blitzed in Conn's apartment and headed out onto the streets.

Tavish couldn't remember the officer's name, but he remembered his face. Young-ish, with a brown buzzcut and narrow blue eyes. He'd made the mistake of patrolling alone in a darker area of town. They jumped him and dragged him into an alley. Obi and Conn pinned him to the wall. Tavish hesitated, just for a moment.

"Come on, mate, we don't have all fucking night." Obi said, urging him on. Tavish steeled himself, then punched the cop as hard as he could in the face. The officer looked him in the eyes, and even though all three of them wore masks, it felt like he was studying him. Tavish punched him again. And again. He paused for a second, and his head throbbed again, and then he found the anger. He kept punching. Eventually, the man's muffled protests through the crude gag Conn had put in his mouth devolved into groans of pain. Blood stained his fist, but he hardly felt it. He remembered the friends he'd had that were stuck in prison, the classes he'd been forced to take for dissenting speech, his fucking head.

"Tav. Tav, stop!" Conn said, and Tavish was snapped out of his trance. He noticed that his hand was hurting. He looked down at it. A few of the guy's teeth were stuck in his skin, and there was some bruising on his fingers, but his hand looked better than the officer's face. "You're gonna kill him!" Tavish took a few deep breaths, but he was so pissed that he though he'd choke. He started to wind up for another punch, this time with his uninjured hand, but Conn let go of the cop and grabbed him. "Tav, please." Obi got the idea and also let go, and the cop slumped over, still breathing but out like a light. Tavish grunted and tried to get to the officer, and his friends grabbed his arms and started pulling him away.

---

Tavish shivered, frightened by the memory of his anger. He'd lost his temper since then, lost that level of control, but he'd been lucky. He ruined friendships, even a relationship or two, but he'd never gotten that destructive.

He did one of the breathing exercises he'd learned in rehab. Inhale, count to four, exhale, count to four. Conn was dead, now, he'd OD'd about two weeks after that night. Tavish hadn't seen Obi in months, and the bassist was probably strung out on some stranger's bathroom floor right about now.

There were times he missed his old life. The band, the drugs, the endless nights.

This was not one of those times.

He heard one of the old men start messing with the jukebox, and his head snapped toward him.

"Touch that fuckin' jukebox and I jam those fuckin' IPA's so far up your arse, you'll be shitein' out hops for a week."

The men sat back down.

---

Skills:
Improvisation: (1) Anything can be a weapon if you've got a little imagination, and Tavish has plenty. (Perception)
Bullshittery: (2) Though he's not proud of it, Tavish is a talented liar.(Perception)
Scrapper: (2) Tavish used to be quite the brawler. He's no martial artist, but he knows how to throw a punch. (Strength)
Musicianship: (1) Though he hasn't picked up his guitar in a while, Tavish is a perfectly passable musician. (Perception)

Stats:
Reflexes: -1
Speed: 1
Endurance: 0
Strength: 2
Will: 0
Perception: 2

Resources:
-Baird's Pub: A smoky little hole in the wall in a poorer part of Utopia, with a two bedroom apartment above it. Makes enough money to sustain itself, and gives Tavish a little bit less than a full time minimum wage worker's salary in profit.

-The "Shite-Mobile": A beat-up old 1994 Oldsmobile Cutlass, which requires a lot of TLC to run on the best of days and is practically useless in the winter.

-Saturday Night Special: Tavish purchased this cheap, unregistered, .38 revolver when he was nineteen. He gets little enough chance to use it, anymore. He keeps it hidden under the bar, jut for peace of mind.

-Guitar: Tavish sold the electric guitar that he played in his band a long time ago, but he held on to his father's dusty old acoustic, just in case.

Connections:
-Thomas McClellan: Tavish's maternal uncle, a primary school teacher that moonlights as a drug dealer, a fact known to no one in the family except Tavish.

-James and Moira Baird: Tavish's parents, retirees living in Galway.

-Oscar "Obi" Bowler: Tavish's childhood friend and the bassist in his band. Currently a drug-addled gas station clerk with, for better or worse, ties to what little organized crime remains in the city.

Theme Song: youtube.com/watch?v=-ej2YISuJ60

Misc. Info: Though he's in a bit of grey-area, ideologically, Tavish still enjoys reading Kropotkin.

[User]
Felix blinked, taken aback at the appearance of the world's most bothersome bartender at this meeting of supposed revolutionaries. More so, he was surprised that she had apparently chosen to scale the building rather than check inside.

"Uh, yeah... most places do. You were contacted as well?"

And then, Felix frowned, looking at the other man on the rooftop - who, evidently, had also climbed the building. Or some building.

"Speaking of which, what exactly is going on here? Have I accidentally stumbled into some kind of wall climbing fetishist meeting? Why is everyone suddenly arriving to places having climbed buildings to get here?"

[Assistant] "Oh, I see. De little boy tinks he's a big... Smart Man becawze he knows where all de stairs are. Ya' dig?" She had to stop to huff out some air due to the climb. "Sawhry, we weren't all blessed wit' de knowledge dat dese abandoned buildings have wawhkin' stairs, asshole!" Finally, she moves towards them, stretching out her limbs and at least allowing herself the knowledge that she was able to climb the building. Unlke this guy, apparently. "Smart enough tuh know all about stairs, but not smart enough tuh take off dat squirrel whose died on his head"

[User]
"I mean... it's a building. A multistory building, built by people who - at least generally - either cannot or will not scale the side of it to get upstairs to go to the bathroom. I mean, what- what else do you expect? You didn't even check inside, what the heck? And what's this about my hair? Do you have any idea how rude you can be?"

Felix huffed at her in annoyance, his hand still discreetly wrapped around the grip of his gun, finger off the trigger, safety still on.

"As if your accent wasn't bad enough, honestly. You're meant to know English - I'm the foreigner here, after all."

[Assistant]
"Aye, dinnae worry, you get used tae it after a while." A thick Scottish brogue echoed up the staircase, and it was followed by a lanky, dark-haired, scot. He looked around at the assembled people, those who must've received messages similar to his own. He'd known that Sandra would be there, and he had to admit that it was nice to see a familiar face. She wasn't the only one of those, though. He knew Felix. He and the detective had something of an understanding. Felix would buy drinks and leave nice tips, and Tavish would keep an ear out and violate that oh-so-sacred bartender-patron-confidentiality by telling Felix anything he might find interesting. He smirked teasingly at Sandra. "Or desensitized, anyway."

He looked at the only one of the three he didn't recognize, and he wondered briefly if it might've been smart to bring his revolver. He'd have liked the added insurance, but he didn't have a holster. He could've tucked it into the waistband of his pants, but that seemed like a good way to sit down weird and accidentally fire it off and the last think he needed was a .38 bullet to the groin.


[System]
Age: 22.
Height: 5'4".
Eye Color: Cerulean.
Hair Color: Brunette.
Occupation: Waitress.

[User]
She floundered. Every step felt an eternity. Every step was heavy. The heels of her boots scraped against the stone cold asphalt. The light drizzle had malignly turned into a beating downpour, each drop of water resonating loudly against stuff of metal and plastic. She was freezing, but her mind was numb. The surroundings were dark, but she could no longer recall the time of day; was it early morning or late night? Commotion and ruckus spurred all around and occasionally penetrated her senses to disturb their trance. She had lost count of how many hours or days that had trapped her in this state. It was a blur of passing lights and awful sounds—a nightmare to some, a dream to others.

Olivia Wilhelmsson was her name. To the fleeting eye she was a seemingly unknown but attractive composition, displaying uncanny symmetrical features. In a now past life, however, customers relished her excellent service and blazing speed. The routines of those fading memories were unremoved from bodily actions and reflex. As such, the fortunate few who had crossed paths with Olivia thought her a nurse. For she brought water when they thirsted, searched for food when they hungered, and offered them the warmth of her presence when they chilled. She never answered when they inquired, nor did she accept when they invited. Olivia's destiny was only her own to give.

People were afraid, and rightfully so. Rumors of Hellish creatures, lurking in the dark, spread throughout the masses akin to wildfire. The whispers of fear were close to her ear. Children anxiously looked to their elders and teddy bears for sanctuary. The words of attempted comfort echoed loudly in the crowds, some being stronger than others. Olivia frowned at how certain parents seemingly ignored their weeping young. Pitiful, she thought. But blast and judge the actions of others and the universe will put you to the test yourself. A boy of perhaps six or seven years of age suddenly bumped into Olivia's side. Their eyes met in silence, as the mass of people droned towards treatment.

"Hello there," said Olivia.

The boy stared at the girl twice his height in silence. The brunette woman glanced at those close to her, but no signs of next of kin were apparent.

"What's your name?" she inquired.
"Adam," said the boy and tightly embraced his stuffed toy, which appeared to be a koala bear.

"It's nice to meet you, Adam. I'm Olivia," she said and squatted before him. "That's a nice teddy bear you've got there."

The boy remained silent, glancing at his stuffed toy, and then back at the woman. Olivia felt sorrow within her heart as she noticed the boy's shivering and seemingly malnourished features.

"Are you here all by yourself? Where are your parents, Adam?" Olivia inquired.
"No, I don't know," Adam responded, confusing as it were.
"You're not here by yourself, but you've lost your parents; is that it?"
"Yes."
"Well, then we have to find them, don't we?" said Olivia and offered her hand along with a blinding smile.

The boy firmly embraced the brunette's hand and gazed towards the back of the masses. Olivia's worst fears were thus realized; if she wanted to help this hapless young man, she would have to leave her time invested position in the queue. The thought of taking the boy with her began to infest. However, at the other end of that thought, a pair of parents in despair lingered. Olivia shouldered her backpack and squeezed the boy's hand.

"Okay then, let's find them," she said.

Olivia was showered with gratitude twenty minutes later. The family was reunited and all was well. The mother and father insisted on providing Olivia with whatever supplies that they could spare, but she declined. There was no need to praise or reward that which came naturally. The parents expressed their guilty feelings for forcing Olivia to leave her position in the queue, but the brunette reassured them that they needed not to think of it any further. The world had become such a dark place, and so rapidly, that a little bit of light was always appreciated no matter what the cost. Adam's parents insisted that Olivia stayed with them for the duration of the screening. She could do nothing but accept their kind offer.

A surge of doubt crawled into Olivia's heart and mind when a seemingly familiar woman approached and called her by name. The stranger appeared official, considering the outfit and respirator. The latter clouded the woman's face enough for Olivia to feel at a disadvantage, but deep down inside the familiarity was prevalent. Everything about the resolute woman synched with Olivia's memories of her sister. However, it was dark and she was tired, edgy on her feet and defensive around her newly found friends. The brunette subtly guided the family behind her own presence, a protective sign.

Olivia considered the woman's proposal, unable to determine whether or not it was a humble request or an oppressive order. However, there was little to lose at this point and her gut screamed and pleaded her to venture further. Olivia turned to the family and thanked them for their hospitality. She then squatted before Adam and gave him a kiss on his cheek.

"Don't you run off anymore now, okay?—stay with your Mom and Dad," she spoke.

Olivia straightened her posture and faced the looming authority. "Is my sister here?"

[Assistant]
Brooke waited in silence. For the longest moment, she was afraid Olivia would simply disregard her 'order' and tell her to shove off. Honestly, the woman had no plan on how to react. All she knew was that she had to get Olivia out of here. It was breaking protocol, but when Brooke ventured into the city as her orders dictated, she wanted to go in with the knowledge of her little sister being far from the contaminated zone. The riots hadn't reached the barricades yet, but experience told her desperate people resorted to desperate measures. She'd been on the receiving end far too many times. Even instigated some herself to complete her objective. The things she did to preserve her country's freedom. It'd make the common man swoon.

Watching the family Olivia stood protectively in front of, Brooke wished there was something she could do for them. However, trying to get her sister out of line and expedited out of the city was already breaking so many regulations she could hardly keep them straight. The families that had gathered were simply unfortunate. No doubt some of them had better jobs than her, Brooke was in a position to do something here. For once, it wasn't wealth that was going to save these people but connections. In a better situation, she would've simply laughed at the middle-upper to upper class. Now? She felt sorry for them. They lost everything after all. Their lives, their homes.

When the goodbyes were exchanged, Brooke reached over and grabbed her sister by the arm firmly as she led her away. "Your sister is here. The matter she's attending to is classified," Brooke said. It was odd to talk about herself in the third person. It'd have to do until they were safely out of sight. "We issued an early extraction for families of the DCD. Did a vehicle not come for you? When the germs hit, you should've been track down and taken far from here."

Nodding to a soldier, Brooke ignored his perplexed look as he resumed his patrol. The woman had already weaved together an alibi should they be stopped. Olivia was a person of interest that her superiors wanted to talk to. It was a very unstructured lie, but did the soldiers know any better? Her circle hardly told them a thing as they operated. As long as she flashed her badge, they let her be. If they gave her trouble, she reminded them who she reported to.

Opening a tent at the edge of the compound, Brooke looked around. It was empty - thank goodness. Leading the way towards a desk, she sat Olivia down as she quickly disabled the respirator. Taking a deep breath of fresh air, she looked on her sister with a mixture of emotions. Things had ended badly for them last time she spoke. They had a falling out, and that was that. Now? Brooke hardly cared about all the drama, the jealously, the arguments. She couldn't get through to her parents, and just having her kid sister alive was enough for her.

"Liv," Brooke said as she sat across from her sister. A smile tugged her lips up as she took the younger Wilhelmsson in. "I thought they came for you. The cars. They told me they'd get you out of here. When you weren't at the drop off, I was worried. Have you heard from mom or dad? I couldn't get through. Were they with you?"

Brooke chuckled ever so slightly as she sat back. She checked the time. She had to leave soon. Such terrible timing this reunion was. "I can't stay for long," she said as she reached over and grabbed Olivia's hand that rested on the table. She gave it a gentle squeeze. "I need you to get as far away from here as you can. I'm sorry I haven't called or anything. I hope you're still not angry at me? Even if you are, it was good to see you again. Your big sister's on the job. I'll fix things up and come find you. I promise."

[User]
The iron fist wrapped around Olivia's fragile limb relived a good portion of her doubt. Jumping to conclusions was not her game, but she had been handled like a ragdoll before, and throughout her childhood. The senior sister was the stronger of the two. She was the faster of the two, the better of the two. Contemplating that fact, Olivia determined her sister to be sour milk—not spoiled milk but sour milk, specifically. It was an acquired taste. Olivia had sometimes served it with various brands of cereal to foreign guests at the restaurant where she used to work. She once ate a moderately sized bowl of it herself. No words could describe how disgusting it was. One of the guests, an elderly Scandinavian gentleman, explained that it was very much a cultural food. There was little to no chance of enjoying it if you did not grow up with it. Brooklyn was Olivia's sour milk. As an outsider, Olivia hated her; as her sister, Olivia loved her.

"Hey! Take it easy," the brunette grunted. Luckily, she had been able to secure her backpack before being man-handled away from the droning masses. However, her steps were nonetheless reluctant; no longer heavy or floundering but light and resistant. "Classified? Don't give me that shit. Just take me to my sister or I'll just go back to the cattle pen," said Olivia with strong tones of sarcasm and contempt.

Transitioning into the tent away from the rain was much appreciated. There was no presence of warmth to be found, but the lack of icy drops falling from the sky was good enough. Olivia attempted to make sense of the mess that was her hair, slobbering all over her face, while the authority lady made herself busy by removing the respirator. The brunette's eyes were fixed on herself, thus she did not notice who the woman was at first.

"Look, lady, I don't know what this is about, nor do I care, but you better take me to my sister before she finds out about this, because she is going to kick your…-"

Olivia was interrupted by a, to her, well known nickname. The instant she gazed upon the woman, it felt as if Bruce Lee himself had resurrected and punched Olivia in the chest; as if the Witchdoctor from Indiana Jones ripped her heart out; as if hitting a tree with her car at maximum speed; all the while falling from an airplane without a parachute. Olivia's eyes welled up and she threw herself at her sister, embracing Brooke with all the strength that could be mustered. The brunette gasped, puffs of air emanating from her presence, unable to speak properly. However, the scent of sour milk crept ever so closer.

"They did come, but I was helping Amber when the chaos broke out. You remember Amber, right?—my coworker. Anyway, we got held up at her place, and then we were separated at the train station," Olivia whimpered, trying to dry her eyes. She exhaled deeply. "I don't know what happened… I tried to call mom and dad, but all services were down."

Olivia's brief moment of relief was drowned with despair once again when her sister retorted. The brunette withdrew her hand from Brooke's embrace. Olivia's gaze turned contemptuous once again; that disgusting taste of sour milk rapidly filling her mouth.

"What? You're going to leave me here?" She exclaimed and violently stood up from her seating. "It never stops, does it?! Even when the world has gone to shit, you leave me behind while you go off to play with the big kids! How fucking dare you?! You're not leaving me behind this time, Brooke, because if you do, you'll never see me again. That's a promise."