[System]
Gender: Male.
Age: Unknown, due to warp influence.
Faction/Race/Species: Adeptus Astartes.
Sub-Faction: Fallen of the former Dark Angels of Caliban.
Rank/Position: Former techmarine.

Mental and Physical Traits: Xepherial is a logicalist and a pragmatist to a far greater degree than his Adeptus Mechanicus mentors would be comfortable with in current times. He is sharp of mind and exemplifies a scientist in his pursuit of truth and understanding. Ideally, his fighting is done by the machines he communes with, which can be quite substantial with all of them working in blessed coordination. He prefers to plan ahead and be prepared for battle, but should he personally engage, his sharp mind can simultaneously command four extra limbs in addition to his own, making him a terrifying opponent indeed. He doesn't have much experience fighting unarmed and unarmored and doesn't plan to gain that experience. He's standard size for a space marine but of course does see to the maintenance of his biologic components as diligently as he would any weapon or vehicle. He is typically quiet and confident and fully devoted to the Emperor while also fully respecting the presence of the Omnissiah in all non-sentient machines.

Appearance: Xepherial looks surprisingly youthful, with straight black hair and light colored skin. His eyes are a confused shade of hazel, but he usually wears his helm. He always wears his artificer power armor, a variant of the Mk V Maximus, with the left pauldron being black and bearing the old icon of the sword and wings. The armor of the right arm and left leg is red. His servo-harness is black, bearing two servo-arms, a combi-tool, a Fyceline Torch and a Plasma Cutter. The Machina Opus is clearly visible on his midsection and right pauldron, while his chestplate bears the typical Imperialis.

Wargear: Calling upon his training from Mars, Xepherial was able to repair and maintain his gear. He has the servo-harness and four accessory arms which wire directly into his spinal column for maximal control by his brain. He carries a bolter and still has his Omnissian power axe. Other than that, he is accompanied by whatever constructs he has either built or found across his path and restored.

History: Xepherial began as a native to Caliban, was recruited and trained, survived, and a century or so later was sent to Mars. He spent the standard 30 year cycle at Mars and then returned home, just in time to miss departing with El'Johnson and the majority of the Dark Angels forces in the Crusades. Apparently, Luther and the Lion had some kind of disagreement that was mentioned only in whispered rumors that had caused some bad blood. For the next 50 years, El'Johnson kept failing to return to Caliban, and everyone began to suspect a problem. Xepherial had been "left behind" with the Lutherian Dark Angels, and was on that side of the fence when Lion El'Johnson finally did return to Caliban after the Horus Heresy and civil war broke out. Xepherial remembers everything.

That was because it all happened only less than 50 years ago, according to Xeph. The warp storm had sucked him in and thrown him across time AND space far into the future. He originally had no idea where or when he was and wandered alone on a strange hostile world on the edge of the warp that was ruled by human warbands and mercenaries. His first encounter with the natives quickly demonstrated that he could not be easily taken down and salvaged, so a truce was eventually reached. Xepherial agreed to temporarily join the warband, exchanging his service for information and supplies. He came to be a respected oracle of sorts giving his adopters quite an edge in their inter-gang wars simply by upkeeping their machines.

The forsaken denizens of his world seemed to quickly become more and more depraved over time, and the worship of chaos was something Xepherial couldn't stomach. For years, he listened to communication lines and plotted his departure form the world, driven by the need to discover what had happened to his home planet, his chapter, and his honor. Finally, the predictions of a psyker, a shaman among the natives told him a set of coordinates where he must go, that "one of his kind" would be found there, but also he gave a warning. His brothers were his brothers no more, and if they found him, they would kill him.

Xepherial eventually acquired a small ship and was able to revive its machine spirit enough to fly once more. Deciding he would rather die than waste a warrior's years on some Emperor-forsaken hellworld, Xepherial launched himself on a mission of faith.

[User]
His minion audibly cringed at the Ogryn's rush toward them both, but having seen the Ogryn in combat proper, Lucius was hardly intimidated, not that he would have been either way. A charging Ogryn involved a lot more screams of blind murderous intent, or whatever instinct the brutes ran on. Sure enough, the character soon stopped before reaching him, eyeing up the cowering wretch that claimed to serve him, then asking who it was, and admitting that he didn't like the man. But of course not. Lucius himself didn't like him. But, because he had to come up with something to cover his tracks, he shortly stated 'No need to worry. This is my-'

Minion? Slave? Serf? Servant- yes, servant, he'll understand that.

'-servant,' Lucius offered, the slight hesitation covered by a near-imperceptible elongation of "my". 'Rest assured, he is without weaponry, and will bring no harm to you or anybody else.'

But it seemed the Ogryn was now preoccupied with other things. Scanning, and some internal conflict that he hadn't been aware Ogryns could engage in... was that another group of intrepid explorers he espied? Or perhaps more foes. Regardless, he eyed them up, deliberately placing a hand on the handle of his sheathed sword to make sure they knew he was present. There was a, a sort of bipedal fish alien in the group... and an Eldar, who by the looks of it was of the sort who took greatly to torment and torture. Disgusting creatures both - that was one trait, at least, that he retained from his time in the Dark Angels proper. And it was clear their allies held more truck with them than he'd ever be comfortable with.

But he'd deal with them when the time came to it; for now, he turned his attention back to the Ogryn, who was currently explaining in so many words that it was scared and confused, and needed to get back to "da, uh, ship", presumably whatever Imperial ship it had come from to begin with. And that, it seemed, was his in. He strolled the rest of the way over to the Ogryn, placing a firm, reassuring arm round the giant creature's shoulders.

'Well, if you need directions back to your ship, my friend- by the way, I don't think you told me your name yet?- I'm sure I can help you search. And you people over there too, mind,' he called to the small group who was observing him and his possible newfound ally, and his servant. He'd rather not do that, but realistically, he needed more than one meatshield to survive in the Hulk for much longer.

'I can't imagine why this is what has been willed for me, but perhaps some of you will be able to serve under the Emperor's merciful guidance, anyway,' he offered in as congenial a tone as the situation allowed for, well aware that if one person already thought he served the Emperor, he had to pretend the same for all of them, else somebody would be disillusioned sooner or later. 'And in any case, the more of us there are, the more effectively we can cover one another's backs, and the fewer of us will be slain, is that not so?' No doubt, of course, that the Eldar would backstab everybody in the group the moment she got her chance, but since he knew it'd be coming, he'd be able to mete out justice to her the moment she began to execute such a maneuver.

@DepressedSoviet@Hank

[Assistant]
Urgrugg felt somewhat unnerved by the presence of the psyker traveling with him. It wasn't anything Zuriel had said, or even done, that set the ork on edge. As a shaman, he had been around other manipulators of the warp before. Only hours before, he had summoned one from the very bowels of the warp itself, and one of the strangest examples the other side had to offer. No, it was something else about the creature that Urgrugg found unsettling, but he couldn't quite place his talon on exactly what it was.

His thoughts were overcome with other worries, though. An echo came through the halls of the great, metal labyrinth. Something, or someone, had made a very loud crash. Judging from the sound itself, something metal had been thrown against, or possibly fell upon, some wall or floor of the hulk. Quickening his pace, Urgrugg moved down the corridor, following where he thought the sound had come from.

At first, it seemed like a wasted effort. The sound, while violent, had been brief. There were no other loud sounds accompanying it, which implied it was likely not caused by battle. In fact, thinking about it, the sound of metal striking metal in this place was likely commonplace. After all, the entire thing was made of huge metal structures, all crashed and compacted together, in completely random ways they were never meant to be part of.

Then, he heard something else. It was much more faint, but again, it sounded like metal on metal, and came from the same general direction. The ork continued on, moving steadily towards the sound, though pacing himself more now. Then, he heard another sound, and some time later, another. Each seemed closer, and before long he discovered why. Someone had been cutting door ways through the inner workings of the hulk, and from the heat of the metal, it had not been long since they had been through.

His suspicions confirmed, the ork moved with more urgency. He gave no thought to his companion, though he could tell from the sounds behind him he was being followed. There was no point talking about any of this. They both would have heard the sounds, seen the evidence, and come to the same conclusions. The plan would be the same for both of them. Find whatever was leaving this very obvious trail.

That said, they were not being quiet. As an ork, Urgrugg was very accustomed to the need to charge towards his foes, and fully capable of doing as much for a good deal of time. With the sounds of new passages being made acting as his guide, he felt them growing closer. Before long, he could even make out the sounds of very heavy, metal-clad steps ahead of them. They were faint, but they were growing louder.

When the sounds of the foot steps stopped, Urgrugg finally slowed. He continued moving forward, but it would do him no good to run full speed into an enemy he had yet to even see. Drawing closer, something else caught his attention. The unmistakable scent of a battle field, though an old one. To an ork, that smell practically meant home. It was getting closer, as well.

As Urgrugg came to what he expected to be the last corner, he finally turned his head back, making sure he was not alone. In preparation for a battle, the ork let loose a hint of his power. With barely a thought, he brought his weapon to life, turning it from wood and crystal to the full potential of the force staff it was. Though he had been unsure at first, Urgrugg was convinced someone was waiting around the next corner. They had been tracking something, and more importantly, they had been tracking it towards the source of the beacon that had drawn so much attention to this lonely hulk. His weapon ready, Urgrugg rounded the corner, braced for an ambush.

[User]
As Urgrugg began to run, he noticed something rather quickly.
Before the clanging steps of the magi besides him was rather noticeable, however, as he began to run the sound stopped.
Glancing back he noticed Zuriel floating along instead of running.

Zuriel was glad that the mysterious... someone, they had been following was just around the corner, and that the ork volunteered to go first was very acceptable in Zuriels mind as well.
He tilted his head as the imposing ork looked back to see if he was still there, ironic he humoured to himself.
For the moment he looked forth and moved Zuriel lost his physical presence and reformed himself as the smoke cloud, falling slower than gravity to the floor and flooding out into the corridor.

At the same time the ork activated the energies of his staff. Probably some sort of crude force weapon, impressive, not many could form these rare weapons, and to think that an ork, stupid as they tend to be, had managed put the unwilling and uninspired masses of humanity into perspective. To show that most of man was more stupid than a simple ork.
Zuriel figured that this was probably not a simple ork. Considering orks normally did not tap into the warp in this way.

[Assistant]
Movement. Close. Regular pattern. A living creature, bipedal. Xeraphiel stood quietly from where he was analyzing the foot prints and aimed his bolter in the direction of the new sounds. Just as the source rounded the corner, Xeraphiel's illuminators flared, blinding the creature and making it obvious in great detail to the techmarine.

An ork? An immediate assessment determined the ork had no weapons, other than a staff of come kind that radiated energy. Truly, Xeph had expected another broodlord. He had no idea how orks got on this hulk, but an ork was still a xeno and an enemy, and a dead ork was a lot less of a problem than a live one.

Urgrugg might have made out the form of a space marine just before the lights obscured his vision.

Then Xepherial opened up a short burst directly at Urgrugg's chest.


[System]
Age: 17

Gender: Male

Race: Human

Weapon: Trepination Blade

Not only will this sword ruin your day with its impossibly sharp edges or if you're-gods forbid-stabbed by it, it can focus and fire a steady beam of energy through its length and out its tip when powered with Dust. The scabbard for the sword is a bright red, and tapers with the blade. It has since been upgraded to include the ability to mecha-shift into a katar.

Shield

Specialty: Up Close and Personal. Oswald's semblance is obviously most useful for this style of combat, as it prevents enemies that excel at range from getting to a viable range from him, so long as he can get within fifty feet of them. As he wields a sword and shield, Oswald is capable of both a bruiser role and a tank role. So long as he's in his opponent's face, he's comfortable fighting in whatever manner is appropriate for the situation. When he attacks, Oswald is ruthless, leaving no openings, and even using his shield as a weapon at times to keep himself from giving his enemy an opportunity to attack. On the defensive, he becomes a fortress, blocking with both sword and shield, refusing to give up any ground.

Semblance: Closer- Oswald can instantly close the distance between himself and another living creature (Grimm or no) within fifty feet of him, moving from wherever he is to about four feet from his target.

Personality: "Speak Softly and Carry a Big Stick." Oswald is a friendly enough guy when he's with friends or allies, and he tries to keep the peace whenever fights break out. He tries to be the first on the scene, and acts as an enforcer to make sure things don't get crazy. If a fight does happen to break out, he'll try to bring it to an end before anybody gets seriously hurt. He strongly favors the diplomatic option when available. If someone makes it clear that that option isn't available, though...well, he breaks out the big stick.

Color: Onyx

Emblem: A heavily damaged dark stone tower, with a small white figure standing proudly atop it.
Emblem

Appearance: Oswald stands at about 5'10" tall, weighs in at a mean 220 pounds, and sports a pair of dull brown eyes topped by a short head of dark black hair. He typically wears a heavy red cloak with onyx pauldrons over a pair of black pants and a white collared shirt. Under his cloak, he has a pair of onyx steel gauntlets, a dark red canvas brigandine and wears a pair of dark black greaves under his pants. He's rather light-skinned, and his face has a small scar under his nose that goes through his lip diagonally. As for shoes, he always wears a pair of black work boots.
Oswald

[User]
ARMOURY to P.E.

The back and forth between him and Rayna almost made him laugh. Victor knew he was on thin ice, but he wasn't especially fearful since Rayna was far too much fun for that and well he couldn't really imagine her with an angry face. Questioning Victor probed "Anymore? So you had a rank then? Well regardless, you are my Captain right? Your wish is my command and all that Oh Captain my Captain."
Humming away to himself Victor reassembled his prosthetic, happy that he could repair it with proper tools. Unlike removing it, connecting his arm gave Victor a rather different experience. The dread of loss is replaced with the tolerance of pain, as once it is connected the arm starts it's work of activating it's artificial nerves, giving Victor the sensation of being next to an open fire for the first five minutes. It was annoying and made him want to run it under cold water, even though he knew it was rather pointless. Once it cooled off Victor stretched and tested it's mobility. Pleased he started tapping each of his fingers and was happy with the feedback he got from the small hits. Just in time too since the bell rang out soon after his last tests.
"Well Captain, I have P.E. now. So I'm heading that way. I better hurry up, it would be rather impolite to be late. I'll see you when I see you next." with a smile and a wave Victor wandered off to get changed. It actually took longer than Victor intended to get changed, his own shirts generally had larger sleeves to accommodate his arm, but Beacon issued uniforms were average, making him be extra careful and take those extra few seconds.

Coming out of the change room Victor tried to keep his run stable. Since a metal arm is heavier than a normal arm and although he can keep pace with most people, Victor's stride was rather... unbalanced when compared to others. Listening to Mr. Kore Victor was a bit concerned about the talk about asthmatic attacks and heart attacks. It's fairly obvious what I have, but beyond that... I don't think I have any issues. Wait... two miles? Well that's... doable I suppose, although Captain Rayna already led me on a marathon turned scavenger hunt. As everyone started off, Victor stalled a bit, but soon had his engine running. The weight of Victor's arm made him have an inefficient run, causing him to have a slight zig-zag pattern to it. A single sentence flashed through his mind You're like a drunk dog trying to find his tail Vicky! smiling he decided to stay close to the back of the pack, in an effort to avoid any unfortunate collisions.

[Assistant]
Sapphire Rode - Physical Education
Sapphire was tempted to throw something sharp at Aurellius but alas she'd neglected to bring any small sharp disposable weapons to PE. She of course still had her daggers but she preferred to keep those under wraps. Not everyone in the arena would have been able to see where she'd gotten them from given the angles of sight present in her and Oswald's sparring match and besides if the teacher saw her pull out deadly weapons in class she may be prevented from bringing them again and Sapphire never went anywhere unarmed.

Sapphire got slightly nervous when the teacher ordered them to run two miles. That was several laps around the track, it was not that Sapphire was not used to running or even that she disliked it, on the contrary nothing really compared to the feeling of the wind in her hair, the problem was the rib she'd broken in Forever Fall during their initiation. It would need another week to heal properly. During armoury it had disturbed her how quickly she'd become out of breath because of that rib. If she couldn't run, if she couldn't move faster than the next strike, she was done for.

However Sapphire Rode was not someone disposed to complaining or letting injury remove her from the field of battle. She'd grown up in a home where injury was no excuse for skipping combat training. So she began to run.

Sapphire kept her torso as straight as she could to compensate and made her best efforts to keep from breathing too hard on her left side. She could manage two miles, it was easy. Yet something was wrong, normally she'd outstrip most anyone, even Geni who was currently running ahead with impeccable technique but now she was barely managing to keep up with the middle of the pack. Her chest was burning, pain climbing with every breath she took. When they were past the mile and a half marker Sapphire slowed before her legs gave out beneath her, she collapsed to her knees but refused to let herself fall completely. Sapphire was shaking all over and her breath was coming in ragged. Maybe it would have been better to sit this one out.

[User]
Oswald Connoly: Armory --->Survival

Sapphire's guess on how Oswald's Semblance worked was disturbingly accurate, but she was a bit off on why he hadn't used it during their match. Before he could reply, though, the girl was already making her way to her next class. Shrugging, he decided that it was about time he made his way to Survival, then. Making sure he had all of his belongings, he made his way to the run-down building that served as the Survival classroom. It was a fitting place for a survival class, at the very least.

As he entered the classroom proper, Oswald noticed someone who could only be the professor playing the guitar while sitting on a rock. The room itself was....minimalistic. A single desk, some noticeably old weapons, and a mattress with a sleeping bag. Wait...did the professor actually live here? He'd had temporary camps more ornate than this. Still, if the professor wanted them to experience this style of camping, he wouldn't refuse. Survival skills were a necessity in the wild.


[System]
Age: 23
The son of Oberjarl Efraim Volsung, the current elected leader of all five of Noxus's five jarldoms. Direct heir, and the only son of Efraim, Aulfr is a common and important face around Askitorp, or the "Ash Town." During the training of the next generation of the Noxus chilluns, starting at age 8, Aulfr quickly excelled, both because he was part of the Volsung family, known for appearing 'weaker,' than the other jarls and warriors, because they're generally look more foreign than the usual hulking Noxun warrior, but they're almost as strong, and twice as fast and cunning. Aulfr has a reputation- people he's been in a fight with generally don't get up in the same day, or within the same three days. People tread lightly around Aulfr.

[User]
Aulfr was really woken up when she decided to punch his nose.

Almost immediately after he punching him, he rolled inward, to the other side of the bed, snatching his hands out to clamp on her wrists. He was angry, the punch erasing his good mood, and he wasn't in any mood to play games. He held her down, wrists clamped down on, positioning himself so that she couldn't kick, she couldn't throw him off balance, or wriggle out. The best thing she could do was spit on him, and that'd be making him even angrier.

Growling, he replied, "How dare you, speak back as if you are of equal ground and standing? I sought your favor, and gave you an offer that none other would ever receive, but that still doesn't mean that, until you have done your side of the deal and I am seated up, you are under my command, owned by me!"

Glaring at her, he rolled his jaw, as if contemplating what to do with her, before continuing.

"If you had noticed, you were the one that downed it and immediately asked for more. Being the oh-so-kind soul I am, I let you have more than any other. Especially since you were originally going to be nothing more than a pretty face. You know my ambition, and you know my ultimate goal, and you know just as well as I do what I could do with a name like yours. And I have a good idea of why you're always targeting the scum of the world- so you can either stop lying to me, and work everything we got to the best advantage, or you can forget being free ever again. Even if you escape me, we'll always be on your trail."

At this point, blood dripping from his nose was slowly dripping down, staining her neck a crimson red. He let it bleed- the pain enraged him even more, which was reflected in his eyes. And they were eyes that promised worse than death for those who crossed him.

"You are a lady with a name. A name that can be used to instill fear- and also a name behind that one, which can be used against those who had done wrong against her. Don't you agree, Aleksandra? I suspected who you were from the moment I saw you, even more so because of the story that accompanied your name, and the stories that started appearing after your name became widespread after your disappearance. The only thing I did was ensure that you had an asset I might use. So be an asset, or be a toy."

He stayed down on her, making sure that she couldn't move unless he let her.

[Assistant]
Aleksandra growled and tuned him out, her head pounding ferociously as she struggled against him. And then, slowly, she stopped. The color drained from her face as she wiggled her hands, trying to loosen his grip. Can't move... His grip was as solid as stone. He loomed above her, blocking everything else out. The warmth that had been so comforting the night before was now suffocating her. Can't move! And the expression on his face... She didn't think she could feel this dread, this terror, not anymore.

Cruel laughter. Leering grins in the dark. Her brothers. Her brothers. Can't move. She started thrashing like a wild animal, trying to headbutt him and scratch at him, screaming at him to let her go, let her go. Pressing her legs together tightly, though she knew her strength was no match for his. CannotmovecannotmoveCANNOTMOVE. She tried everything, yanking and kicking and jerking about until she was exhausted, her throat hoarse from screaming and her head splitting from her wicked hangover.

"Don't do it," she choked, forcing back her tears. They didn't listen, dripping down her cheeks like the traitors they were. She fell back against the sheets, limp and hopeless. "Don't, don't, not again," she whimpered, trying to hide her face in her shoulder. She began mumbling through her growing sobs. "Can't move, hurts, not again, not again. Monsters. Monsters," she moaned.

Rusalka holding her down. Vasily hovering over her, his expression cold and dead as he hurt her, and Rusalka laughing through it all, like it was a fun game. Her own family. Her blood. She didn't want to be hurt like that again. And the one person she was beginning to trust had betrayed her completely. He probably didn't know the effect his pinning her down would have, but it made no difference at the moment. She was petrified.

[User]
Aulfr watched her thrash with growing unease at her growing terror and hysteria. He had to tighten his grip several times, but she didn't come close to getting a single limb lose- and his stomach knotted at her reaction. He knew, then, that he may be a monster, he may kill or murder, force others' hands with blackmail and threats, but not violate and truly, truly destroy.

And his unease disappeared with a rise of comprehension, of understanding at why she was acting so. The position was perfect for... less than honorable people to have their way, especially on the girls who were already small and petite. But that was the thing- he was honorable. A monster, maybe, one that'd step on anyone who got in his way, but not one that'd go out of his way to cause needless pain. Oberjarls stayed in power based on ability to govern- if he tried to oppress his own, he'd quickly end up strung up by a rope.

He let her go, leaning back to watch her slowly curl inward, trying to turn her back towards him. He rolled off the bed, letting her be free, but she didn't jump up and attack him, like he half-expected her to. No, she actually was breaking, right now.

A very special fire burned in him at that moment- one that he wanted to unleash on those who would do such a thing. Not even the Oberjarl could rape a citizen without major punishment, and likely being removed from his position. Unless they were slaves- no one cared about slaves, and the lowest of servants were generally considered more akin to slaves than citizens.

Refusing to admit to even himself that he felt genuinely bad about setting her off in such a way- though his nose hurt like hell (he quickly popped it back into place with some amount of tears and pain)- he slid an arm under her shoulders and knees, lifting up the sobbing wreck of an assassin. He doubted a bed would be a pleasant place for her, right now. So he sat down in his best chair, the one that the woman he was holding called her sewing chair, and sat her in his lap. He wrapped an arm around her, and reached up to stroke the woman's night-black hair.

Whispering reassurances in her ear, he rocked her slightly, trying to remember how his mother had comforted him, in the few years he had with her. The mere thought of the only person that showed him genuine care in his life made his heart drop; normally, he'd shove it aside and replace it with hardness. But no one was visiting; he had a reputation that still lasted. They wouldn't enter unless told to, or dire news was at hand.

So he hugged her a little tighter, stroked her hair a bit gentler, and rocked her a little more caring, as tears pricked his own eyes. Even when he was feeling vulnerable, he suddenly found that he couldn't let it out; this was the best he could do. The thought sobered him, as he tried to comfort the scarred disowned bastard that had found herself in his care.

[Assistant]
Aleksandra wanted to run, but her legs would not carry her away. She wanted to scream, but she couldn't speak. She wanted to hit Aulfr until her hands no longer existed, but all she could do was lay there, shaking so violently that her teeth clicked together. Just when she thought she could move herself, Aulfr reached down and did it for her. She almost started screaming again, thinking maybe he'd just been pretending not to hurt her to make her more scared. She was in his lap, and her muscles tensed into rock, but then his arms were around her so tightly it was almost hard to breathe, his fingers gently combing through her hair.

She kept shaking, kept chattering her teeth, but it slowed fractionally. She couldn't bring herself to relax against him, so she curled into herself, letting him do what he felt he needed to to make this right again. She was embarrassed beyond all reason. He was never going to hurt her, of course he wasn't. He was a brute and a man who had his needs, but he was honorable in that regard. But the fear of being overpowered, of a man looming above her with that cold and distant expression... It would never leave her.

She had stopped crying the moment he took his weight off of her. She hated crying, and couldn't recall the last time it had happened. Years and years ago. Maybe even that night, when her brothers had robbed her of her entire sense of self. She could still hear their voices in her ear, their breath hot on her cheek. Dirty little whore. Must run in the blood. Vile whores' blood. They'd left her lying on the bed, so petrified she couldn't even shake. She'd stared up at the ceiling for Saints-knew-how-long, tears streaming from her eyes silently.

She sat in Aulfr's arms for nearly an hour. She couldn't stand being touched any longer than that. She was shaking still, badly enough that she had to hold onto the bed to keep standing. The bed. She made a disgusted face and forced herself to stand on her own. Where to go? Not the chair. Not just the floor. Somewhere dark and quiet and where sound was muffled. Her gaze went down, then she grabbed a pillow from the bed and slid underneath the frame, letting the heavy blankets cover all surrounding sides. Dark, warm, quiet. Safe. She would have preferred a bath so hot she wouldn't be able to feel her skin for two days. But this would be okay.

[User]
Aulfr watched her scurry herself away under his bed, concerned for someone who would do that. To make matters worse, he just realized that under his bed was the only place he couldn't get to- making it a viable place for assassins to hide and wait for him to lower his guard. Similar to how it was being used now, even though the assassin that was under there wasn't out to kill him, for the moment, at least.

So he stepped into the hall and called for a hot bath; he knew it'd take somewhere around an hour, and being of the practical mind common to the higher ranks of Noxus, he didn't try to hurry it up by panicking the servants into a serving frenzy.

He debated trying to get to Aleksandra to try and pull her out and help her in some way, but he was clueless as to how to do both. Either way, she'd be just fine, and wouldn't be able to escape, where she was now, nor would it be an easy position to attack from, if she decided to do so. So he waited for the bath to heat up, before a servant eventually knocked on the door.

He didn't answer it; rather, he stood up, opened the bathing room door- it also had 'facilities' in the corner, but he rarely used them, since he was always out and away from his room- and checked the water from the pipes. Convinced it was hot enough, he let it open all the way up and start pouring out at full blast, gravity doing the work.

Turning back to the room, he got down on his hands and knees, and peeked under the edge of the bed.

"I know you can hear the water running... Rayt. Would you like to take a bath? You're a smart girl- you know it's hot."

Reflecting on himself as he was speaking, he knew that calling her a girl was obviously wrong- they were both well into their primes, her prime just happening to be much smaller than the average in Noxus. Either way, he couldn't tell if it was simply a word he was using because of her size and appearance- she certainly looked young enough, and seemed more childish when she wasn't wearing something as tight as she does now- or because he used it affectionately. He shrugged it aside; it didn't matter.

He'll chew her out later. For now, she needs to recover from her panic attack.

So he reached under, and gently pulled out the shaken Aleksandra. He didn't try to pick her up, or really touch her, just pointed and let her stumble over. He shut the door behind her, and then settled back down into his chair to wait.


[System]
Character Sheet
Age:
23

Gender:
Female

Bio:
Charlotte was overseas on a college trip when the bombs fell and wiped out a large portion of the human race, having travelled from her family home in what was once known as the United Kingdom. Fortunate to be away from any real population centre she survived with a small group of her classmates and a professor holed up in the somewhat remote cabin that their trip had rented throughout the martial law period (What little communication they had with the authorities soon stopped). They remained for some several months surviving as best they could on what little supplies they had, trying to get as much information as possible about the outside world and the fate of their native country. Inevitably the small group had to leave their relative safety and return to what was once civilization before they starved to death. It did not go well.

Hardly prepared for the devastation and death that greeted them as they made their way slowly into the city they saw the remains of countless killed by both the bombs and several more killed more recently. Somewhat naively the group went looking for help, but instead stumbled across one of the many savage gangs that had crept up filling the power vacuum left by the now gone authorities. Before they could even introduce themselves Charlotte's professor was greeted with a hail of bullets, killing both him and another student instantly. Fleeing for their lives Charlotte was separated from all but one of her male classmates and friend, the pair of them running until they could run no more, taking refuge in a now thoroughly dilapidated building.

They spent several days hiding and attempting to survive, but it was soon disrupted when in the middle of the night they were stumbled upon by a trio of cruel scavengers. Unable to escape it soon became clear that the interlopers had rather unsavoury desires, having stumbled upon a young and relatively undamaged woman with little to no protection one thing sprang into their minds. Charlotte struggled against them frantically and somewhat hysterically, aided briefly by her friend (until one of the men buried his hunting knife in his gut and kicked him to the ground). Biting, kicking and screaming Charlotte somehow managed to grab onto a loose piece of concreate and swing it with all of her strength into one of the men's heads as he tried to unfasten his pants, giving her the briefest moment to scramble away and run. In her panicked state she fled into what was once a kitchen, sadly with no other exits – the remaining two men now stood between her and her survival. Fortunately for Charlotte the kitchen was still littered with cooking implements and so as they both charged at her she managed to clumsily grab a large knife, as the first man tried to grab her and force her to the ground she fought with everything she had.

A screaming blur of adrenaline and several scuffles later Charlotte found herself curled up on the ground sobbing, covered in the blood of her would be killers. Her body ached from the numerous bruises and small cuts she had sustained and her mind was a mess, but she was otherwise not seriously hurt.

Making her way back she was just in time to watch her last friend bleed to death as she frantically tried to stop the flow. At the very least the now dead men had enough supplies on them to keep her alive and moving.

The next few months surviving presented a huge learning curb to the young woman, she slowly and cautiously began to move from place to place, scavenging and surviving as she went. After the first three men she had killed she took few chances and generally came to avoid all other people she came across, though it was not always possible and as a result she has now killed seven attackers in 'self-defence' (though truth be told she wonders if she couldn't have avoided the last few…)
Now hardened to the outside world, Charlotte is vastly different from the carefree happy girl that once came to this country.

Personality:
What remains of Charlotte's personality is vastly different from what it once was, now severely guarded and cautious when it comes to meeting outsiders, seeing them now as only threats to be avoided or opportunities to be exploited. She has somewhat lost faith that there are any decent people left alive out there and so is becoming as harsh and uncaring as the outside world.

Currently Charlotte is a something of a tipping point in terms of her personality, poised to plunge off the deep end and become the very thing that has caused her so much suffering and pain to begin with. Though retreating into her own shell it may not be too late for her to come back into the light before she turns her back on the world permanently.

Gear:
- Hunting Knife: The same knife that ended the life of her friend, Charlotte took it and has developed a somewhat macabre liking to it.

- Clothing:
Charlotte wears the clothing she came with, though now somewhat ragged and patched up. Her jeans were once a clear light blue colour, but are now smeared with countless stains so they appear a much darker shade, the knees have ripped out and been patched several times. Similarly a light green vest remains hidden under a grubby dark gray hoody that has been fixed several times and has now got several additional pockets and even a bandolier fixed into it. A green afghan hangs around her neck and she often uses to cover her face, which when combined with her hood at least hides her face when appropriate. Her once flawless shoes are now worn through and similar covered in such grime it would be impossible to distinguish what colour they once were.

-Items:
Basic first aid kit (mostly used)
Heavy flashlight (no battery)
Canteen
Box of cereal bars (12), Skittles, Tin of Tuna, Tin of tomato soup, Jerky.
Carton of cigarettes (3)
Lighter & Fluid (1/2 empty)
$14,012 (found on a corpse)
Flare gun & 2 red flares.

Role:
Charlotte hasn't found a role as such, though some very well may start to describe her as a wanderer or even rogue, perhaps some going even as far as bandit - though to be fair at this point that would be an exaggeration.

[User]
Charlotte grimaced as the figure of a stranger moved out of the darkness and announced herself, instinctively she wanted to run but resisted the urge. Jake and Quinn were between her and the newcomer and she was slowly starting to feel a little more trusting towards them, after all they had saved her and were now looking for somewhere to stop and fix up her leg.

Jake addressed the stranger and Charlotte waited nervously for any response. She was tired and pain still throbbed through her, she hoped this wasn't the start of something and that they'd be able to stop for the night, having escaped the Blood Army and made it this far. She kept silent towards the back of the group feeling a little useless as Quinn surveyed their surroundings with a trained eye.

[Assistant] Alyssa let the knife fall deeper into her hand as she saw them pointing the gun at her. She saw they put it down and her grip slightened slightly. Looking at thew man who asked her the question she shrugged slightly. "Only if your willing." She stated. She was slightly nervouse being around them. She sighed shaking her head as she sighed. She should of knew that they would be suspicious of her. "I'm not part of the blood army." She cleared out though she knew they weren't going to believe her. " I heard you were starting a settlement group?"

[User] Jake had a confused look on his face. Settlement? Not really. He didn't even know everyone that much. He knew Quinn probably wouldn't stay for long. He knew almost nothing about Charlotte. She could be planning to kill him in his sleep. He did give her the benefit of the doubt though, having some faith in her. He then focused on this random girl. "It's a possibility for the future." He said, looking around to make sure no one was going to attack.

[Assistant] Alyssa half nodded as she sighed. She wasn't sure about what else to say. She must of heard them somewhat wrong. She shook her head. "Oh, okay then." She stated as she bit her lip. She shook her head as she sighed, as she placed her hands in her pocket. She sort of just awkwardly stood there for a moment before she shook her head. "Never mind."

[User] Jake felt bad that she was walking away. "Wait." He said, looking at Charlotte and Quinn before looking back at the girl. "Where are you going?" He asked, curious as to where she came from. This area was deserted for the most part and there weren't many houses. There was a lot of factories and industrial ares around them. Jake wasn't sure if she even had a place out here.

[Assistant] Alyssa half turned around towards him. She was surprised he asked but she debated whether or not she actually wanted to tell him where she was going. Could she trust him? The thought that if he wanted her dead he would've tried came into her head as she thought about it. She sighed as she eyed him. "In a house I guess, such as." She stated simple not putting emphasis on it. She shrugged as she said. "I'll figure it out, don't worry about it." She didn't want to be a big worry for them, well she didn't want to be a worry at all. "I'll be fine."

[User] Jake's police side started to take over again. "Ma'am, if you need help, let me help you. I come in peace." He said, his gun lowered. He did keep in mind that she could be setting him up, but he saw no harm that she could cause. He looked at Quinn, knowing he wouldn't like the decision to try and help.

[Assistant]
Quinn couldn't place it, but something about the girl seemed unnervingly familiar to him. It set his nerves on edge trying to suss it out, but he just couldn't quite put his finger on it.
If there was one thing he could tell, she wasn't Blood Army. They had a certain bearing about them that gave them away, and she didn't carry herself the same way. That detail helped him relax and he straightened, letting his gun return to it's holster at his hip.
"We're looking for a house," Quinn interjected raising his hands non-threateningly, "If you have one, we'll gladly make a trade for a nights accommodation. I have some tools, I can repair something if you need."

[User]
She bit her lip as she shrugged. She nodded as she stated,"I currently got everything I need now." She stated. She shook her head to the house comment. "Well there are a bunch. Just pick a random one." She said. She didn't think of it as a hard process, nor a very complicated one. "Just make sure its abandoned." She added on shrugging.

She eyed her eyes glaring Quinn. His voice, it sounded familiar, very familiar. 'Only if it was light out!" She thought to herself. She couldn't see much. She wanted to figure it out so she stated. "But the one here should be fine." She stated. She had a few questions she wanted to ask Quinn.

[Assistant]
Quinn glanced to Jake, checking his reaction. He seemed level-headed and the right guy to trust in this kind of situation. The light was fading fast and Quinn wanted to be indoors as soon as possible. Quinn felt a bead of sweat make it's way down his cheek from under his makeshift bandages.
No doubt Charlotte would appreciate somewhere to get off that busted leg.
He squinted at the girl for a second, still trying to pick that face and where he'd seen it before. It made him anxious, not knowing. After a moment that seemed like an hour, Quinn turned around.
"Come on, let's get you inside," he said to Charlotte as he extended an arm to her, "Gotta take a look at that wound."

[User]
Jake couldn't help but let out a breath of relief. He was glad that this girl hadn't tried to kill them. Well so far. He put his gun away, slinging it around his back. He looked for a good house, spotting one a few hundred yards away. He let everyone know that's where he thought would be best.

He got back into the car, starting it up to go to a safer location. But something caught his eye out in the distance. Four figures running in a group. They were all synchronized with their movements and seemed to have some nice, matching gear on. "Guys...I think there are some Blood Army up there..." He said, pointing to the figures now walking towards them. They hadn't spotted Jake and everyone yet, but they'd surely do so if they didn't move now.

[Assistant]
Alyssa nodded. She heard the engine begin and turned towards it. In a way, it had been a while since she had heard one being started up, and in a way it brought up bad memory's. She shook her head trying not to think of that at the moment. 'The past didn't matter' she told herself, though Quinn had her on he edges of her feet. Something about him ringed a bell. She still hadn't been able to get a full scope of his face. 'Could she trust him?' She wondered.

She took a step toward the car, about to get in, when she heard him shout out the comment about the blood army. Looking up, she caught a glimpse of the four men that ran above. There was no doubt about them being blood army. It was impossible to deny. She quickly took a glance around her.

There wasn't much in site, but she could see plenty of hiding places. Two houses stood over a tall. In between the two buildings there was a small passage way. It was dark, and she had no clue where it lead to. There were to many places to hide, for all she new they were already trapped.

She threw a blanket over Charlotte's head. " Stay down." She told her. She could tell she was injured and wouldn't be able to run. "The rest of you need to run." She stated clearly. "They won't check the car inside out."

[User]
Charlotte accepted Quinn's arm for support as she continued to nervously eye Alyssa, though the others seemed to think she was alight she couldn't help but notice that she was looking at Quinn a little funny. Fatigue prevented her from taking much more time considering why that may be, she was eager to settle down and rest for the night, her leg aching and the occasional stifled yawn escaping her.

Just as Quinn was about to lead her into the house Jake had selected his warning rang out, Charlottes mood once more sinking as he said the words 'Blood army'. Her fatigue vanished and she squinted to make them out as best she could.

"Don't these guys ever give up?" she groaned. Alyssa handed her a blanket to conceal herself and Charlotte looked nervously from her to Quinn and Jake.

"What are you going to do?" she asked uncertainly. She didn't like the idea of hiding, the thought of staying hidden whilst her companions fought for their lives didn't sit easy with her.


[System]
Note: Any positions which are not filled will be filled by NPCs. Additionally, positions can be created by characters in their CS if it is approved by the GM.

Crew
Pilot -- Moira Selag Sphere, LovelyAnastasia
Co-Pilot -- Gera Zsoldos, BurningCold
Navigator -- Available
Mechanical Engineer -- Marie Antoinette Vandersnappe, The1Rolling1Boy
Electrical Technician -- Available
Quartermaster -- Alessandro Minghetti, DeepestApology

Willman Expedition
Fireteam Leader (Sergeant) -- John Howard, FortunesFaded
Assistant Fireteam Leader (Corporal) -- Royland Asterwick, BurningCold
Rifleman (Private) -- Daniel Østergaard, Starlance
Rifleman (Private) -- Jethart Igneal, CrazyShadowy
Doctor (Medical Professional) -- Anton Kyznetsov, BurningCold
Scientist -- Erin Middaugh, Kaiachi
Official/Inspector -- Elizabeth Sinclair, FortunesFaded

Character Sheet

Name:
Age:
Gender:
Profession:
Nationality: I would recommend stating both the specific nationality (Like, Japanese) and also the political bloc that country belongs to (I.e. American Alliance)
Birth Planet: Or station, in the case of the BASS or the Willman
Appearance: Please write a description. If you'd like, you may include a picture as well in the space above the "Name" section. Please do not use drawings or anime.
Strengths: You must have at least as many weaknesses as you do strengths, and no less than two.
Weaknesses:
Personality:
History: This may be as brief or expansive as you'd like it to be. Just remember, revealing and expanding upon events in a character's life is far more powerful when done IC – and that when you write something here, and not in the IC, other characters won't know anything about it.
Family: Does your character have a spouse, or children? Are their parents still alive? Here you may list the names and ages of the character's immediate family, if you so choose. This is mainly here because, again, lots of death in act one. You may end up playing as one of these folks in act two, if you so choose.

---

Age: 38
Gender: Male
Profession: Operations Sergeant, United States Special Forces
Nationality & Affiliation: American, American Alliance
Birth Planet: Earth
Appearance: John stands at six foot two, with short brown hair well below military regulation length, and a hard and emotionless face. His eyes are dark brown to match his hair, and his body is muscular just by the sheer requirements of his work.
Strengths:
Primary – John has been enlisted in the United States Special forces for over a decade. He's been trained on Earth and in the colonies. He's been deployed to more places than most have visited. Simply put, he is a shining example of a competent and resourceful soldier.
Secondary – Due to the rigor of his work, John is in peak physical shape, far surpassing most men, despite his age of nearly forty.
Tertiary – John has been managing fireteams and personnel for years. As such, he's developed inherent tactics to deal with team morale and tricky situations involving his group. Combine that with a natural sense of charisma, and John makes a fine leader in even relatively hostile environments.
Weaknesses:
Primary – Though he isn't stupid, John has absolutely no schooling on the fields of science, including astrophysics and biology. He is totally in the dark when the conversation shifts to these topics, or when application of this particular brand of knowledge is necessary.
Secondary – While John has developed a sense of rapport and communication with his subordinates, he often comes off as brash and demanding to civilians, especially during stressful situations when he needs to give orders directly without wasting time. As a result, he may end up alienating some of the civilian members of the expedition, or be unable to rally them the same way he would with his squad.
Tertiary – Ever since the death of his wife two years' prior, John has developed a concerning alcohol problem. It manifests more when he isn't deployed and has more downtime, but lately he's started carrying a flask with him almost everywhere, and a bottle of whisky can always be found somewhere in his quarters. He uses the drink to stave off a deepening sense of hopelessness and depression, a void which his work has long since ceased to fill.
Personality: John Howard is a man who tries his best to hide his emotions, and does it quite well. While it may not be unusual for him to crack a joke or give a halfhearted smile, there isn't usually any amusement in his eyes. He's quite good at instilling emotions in others which have long since withered in himself. It's been a long time since he's felt true happiness. Still, he is the type who gives his all no matter what has happened, and he has not stopped being an exemplary soldier. He cares for his fireteam and the civilians on board the expedition in equal measure, even though they may not ever see that from him, and he has no desire for them to.
History: John was born an only child in Boston, Massachusetts, to a Colonel in the U.S. Army and a financial accountant. His mother died when he was seven, and his father – the Colonel – was never all that great at raising a kid. They moved around often, wherever he was needed, and John simply learned to give up the prospect of making meaningful relationships. Initially, he wanted nothing to do with the military, and, partially trying to distance himself from his father's legacy, went to college for business. He graduated with decent grades and a job out of the gate, at a tech startup. However, he found no joy in it, and after his father was diagnosed with terminal cancer he resolved to go into the military. His dad passed away soon after he finished basic training. For a few years, he was alone; all he had was his work, and he did very good work. He rose through the commissioned ranks of the Army, before being selected to join the Special Forces. It was around this time that he met a girl, Susannah, at a bar while he was on leave. The two started a relationship that kept blossoming even when he was away on duty. They married a year later, and were together for just six months before an incident on the highway caused her car to be thrown into the oncoming lane, and she died. John was away when it happened – he didn't hear until days later. Ever since then, he's been alone, just as he was before.
Family: John has no family.

Name: Elizabeth "Lizzie" Sinclair
Age: 31
Gender: Female
Profession: Colonial Affairs Junior Administrator for the Mars Colony
Nationality: British, Commonwealth
Birth Planet: Earth (But she spent most of her adult life on Mars)
Appearance: Elizabeth is a petite brunette with sharp blue eyes that carry a sense of mischief and intellect. She is by all accounts attractive, and she often wears a smirk that seems to be a precursor for a witty retort. She stands at 5'4", and is in pretty fit shape for a government official. Elizabeth's hair is often done up in a loose bun, and she teeters between looking professional and being comfortable. The result is her own unique style, which gives off the impression that she really doesn't care what anyone else thinks, but has still managed to have quite a successful career despite it.
Strengths:
Primary – Elizabeth is highly intelligent and resourceful, having managed to rise from total obscurity into a prestigious post in the Commonwealth's governing administration on Mars.

Secondary – Elizabeth has a silver tongue; she is gifted in the art of conversation, and can almost always win someone over to her side with enough time and exposure.

Weaknesses:
Primary – Elizabeth has zero combat training, other than very basic self-defense lessons taught to her by her father as a child. As a result, she is near useless in a combat zone, and must rely much more heavily on her charisma than her martial ability.

Secondary – She has the tendency to bite off more than she can chew: whenever opportunity comes knocking, she takes it, regardless of if she has the time or skill to handle it. Usually she's able to feign stability, though there have been times where this has come back to haunt her.

Personality: Elizabeth is disarmingly genuine, to the point where most people forget that they're talking to a bureaucrat. She insists that people call her Lizzie or Liz, and remains optimistic even at the darkest of times. She is the unique mix of ambitious and kind: willing to do anything both to further herself and help all those around her. Additionally, she has a sharp wit, and is one of the first ones to crack a joke when it is needed. Most of the time, she simply doesn't let things get to her – when they do, Elizabeth becomes quiet and detached, but rarely ever lashes out.
History: Elizabeth was born in Canterbury, England, to a nurse (her mother) and a police officer (her father). As a child she seemed to have a natural charisma, and made friends with everyone even as she excelled and thrived in an academic setting. She was an exemplary student in college, graduating third in her class at Oxford, and was offered a job as an administrative aide immediately after graduation. After about two years, she was offered a promotion in the Mars colony and took it, boarding a shuttle and leaving her family and her planet. Upon reaching Mars, she found that the largest human colony was beset with a myriad of issues. The birth rate was off the charts following the successes of the Bessel Station's sustainability initiative, securing the stability of food for the colony. The population was growing at an alarming rate, and the infrastructure simply could not accommodate it. Elizabeth set to work fixing that. She dedicated the next five years of her life to getting things done from a position of obscurity, before being praised personally by the Colonial Governor of Hampton (The Commonwealth colony on Mars) and promoted yet again, this time as a junior administrator for the Global Coalition, in the upper echelons of the colonial political sphere. From this position, she had the ability to develop relationships with some of the most powerful people in the solar system – including the Governor, the Prime Minister of the Commonwealth, and Francois Moreau, the Executive Director of Colonial Affairs for the Global Coalition. It was he who asked her to join the expedition to the Willman Lab, as he felt that her resourcefulness and administrative talents may be of great use in the case of a potential colonial catastrophe.

Family: Elizabeth has a brother, Aaron, who is four years her junior and is currently an associate at a law firm on Earth. Both of her parents are still alive, and are retired and in their sixties living in England.

[User] Jethart turned to face Daniel, "yes sir, while I do have to follow they're orders and treat them as my superiors, it doesn't mean I have to respect them. I just have to do as I'm told." He took a deep breath, turned to walk away from the group. "While it is a bit odd, it's who she is. She can do that if she pleases, if I talked to my boots you'd think the same if I'm not mistaken, that'd just be me being myself." Jethart walked to his original seating sat down and hunched over trying to fall back to sleep. Maybe he was hoping for some rest before the mission started.

[Assistant] *Marie pokes her head over the seat and makes a little person with her fingers and have the little run and jump over the seats infront of her pretending that it was her running and junping over things to get different tools and parts from different areas. She used to the hand to make another and pretended it was someone else, someone she would love and care in the future. She chuckles at this idea of someone falling in love her and someone actually having a crush on her, or just someone actually wanting to be mpre then friends with her* {Hehe that's such a silly idea... I wonder who brother is doing with her girlfriend...} *She then remembers this video game she would play with her brother and she made a little gun with her hands and pretended to be reliving the memory of playing that game* "Pew... Pew Pew... Click click" *Marie says mimicking the sound effects in the game the best she could*

[User]
Internally, Erin was on fire. The embarrassment from her social ineptitude was overwhelming, so much so that she could curl herself into a ball upon the floor and hibernate until the next generation took hold of politics.
Externally, her ears might have turned red. With a breathless and merry laugh, she directs an apology to Anton "Oh cripes, I'm sorry about that." She brings a hand to the side of her face and chuckles lightly, directing herself toward Liz afterward, "And ta you as well. I've done gone and made a fool of myself. The good doctor here is right, I mean no offense. Just a bit startled was all." She tilts and bows her head sheepishly, her eyes darting to the side as if to follow away the sight of any good impression she might have made. "T'is a pleasure to meet the both of ya, anyhow."

[Assistant]
John ignored the commotion at his back between the pilots and some in the crew, and listened to Royland. At the mention of his family, John was a bit caught off guard. No wonder he volunteered for this mission, he thought to himself – the prospect of danger, albeit small, is still too great to sit on the sidelines and speculate, especially when loved ones are put into the mix. At the very least, he knew that Royland would give this mission his all.
"I'm glad to have someone on this ship that knows the Willman," John said. "And I assure you, no matter what the situation, I will do all within my power to locate and protect your family. I trust you'll do the same."

At that, he heard a mention of him by the cluster of crew behind him; one of his soldiers had gotten into the mix, and now the Pilot was wondering about departure. John gave a polite nod to Royland before checking his watch turning around to address both the group and the rest of the individuals in the room.
"The launch sequence is set to begin in ten minutes. At that time, the facility's ground crew will prep the ship for an upward take-off, and we will have reached the Earth's upper atmosphere within the hour," John ambled away from the center to find a beverage, and came across a few bottles of water set out for the Sentinel's passengers. He took a long sip, before continuing. "Please keep your hands and feet inside the vehicle at all times," he quipped, before raising a brow at Moira. "And no starting a brawl before we get past Mars, yeah?"

Elizabeth Sinclair

At that point, Erin had turned bright red with embarrassment, which was the opposite of what Liz had hoped to achieve. She simply smiled brighter, and took a step back so as not to invade her space. "The pleasure's all mine, Erin," she answered, before pivoting to the left with an outstretched hand to Anton. "And Doctor Kyznetsov, you've proven to be quite insightful. Yes, Director Moreau asked that I attend. He was worried that the situation – whatever it may be – could have destabilized society at the Willman, and wants me there in case they need a hand getting back on track." At that, she heard Sergeant Howard announce that the Sentinel's departure time was almost upon them. And about time, too, she thought to herself, having idly overheard the heated debate not ten feet away. Hopefully this bunch will survive the trip over.


[System]
BASIC
Goes By: Maleficent (alter-ego)
Age: 5,739
Gender: Female
Race: Half-Sindarin, Half-Silvan Elf

APPEARANCE

Portrayed By: Angelina Jolie with a slight Russian accent
Hair Color: Dark, Auburn-Brown
Eye Color: Luminous Yellow-Green
Skin Tone: Porcelain Pale
Height: 5' 11"
Weight: 119 lbs
Body Build: Tall and Slender

Wing-Cloak

Natural Elven Attire (with and without wings)

Battle Outfit

PERSONALITY

Likes: Humans, Elves, Dwarves, Happiness, Animals, Flying, Her Godsons
Dislikes: Chaos, Greed, Spiders, Darkness, Orcs, Sorrow
Strengths: Fighting, Beauty, Wisdom, Inspiration
Weaknesses: Mentions of Her Past, Loneliness, Anger
Fears: Losing Her Family, Her Past

Overall Personality:
Mysterious | Regal | Soft-Spoken | Larger Than Life | Elegant | Compassionate | Unpredictably Vicious

Everyone believed Saeril to be born a creature of chaos and pure evil, but they just do not know the true story. Rather than a woman who is evil, Saeril was instead a benevolent young woman of purity; she valued the peaceful nature on Middle-Earth, and she had a fierce passion of guarding various realms and its inhabitants. As a fierce protector, Saeril is a desired perfectionist, and a woman of her word; due to the despair and sorrow of even the most vulnerable of races, she focuses on finding the best intentions for them, even if it means to risk her life. As she suffers from a devastating past that involved the Deceiver's corruption upon her mind, Saeril is truly hurt and very lonely inside, interpreted by her amnesiac guilt for her crimes. Her ultimate goal was to redeem herself and dissipate her inner darkness.

However, she never anticipated this goal to be changed when she rekindled herself with her Dwarven godsons, Fili and Kili; she grew to care for them as a motherly figure, forming an adopted-parental bond with them. Despite herself being closest to the youngest, Kili, Saeril was devastated after witnessing Azog kill the eldest brother, causing her to scream in agony and grief. Determined to keep the youngest from falling into the same fate, she became strictly protective of Kili. As his blessed godparent, Saeril would do anything to keep him alive, and as a result, she went with him in many ventures, though she did not always agree with them. Regarding him, her bond with Kili was very strong, therefore her main goal was to keep him safe.

Saeril will not hesitate in giving others her blunt opinion, and she would often guide them when they are upset or need advice. Proud and proper she was, she will never bow to anyone she disagreed with. Evident by her relationship with Thorin Oakenshield, it's complicated when it comes to terms of trust; she betrayed him (as he claimed) by revealing the truth of the quest, and by "stealing" the starlight jewels from his treasure hoard for King Thranduil. Although she was claimed as not "trusting", Saeril openly showed that she cared a great deal for him, saving his life multiple times on different occasions.

BACKGROUND

Date of Birth: YT 1578
Place of Birth: Fangorn Forest, located north of Rohan
Social Ranking: Royalty (formerly)
Family:
- Kili Durin (Godson; alive) (Dwarf)
- Fili Durin (Godson; alive) (Dwarf)
- Dis Durin (Compadre; unknown) (Dwarf)
- Hermia (Mother; deceased) (Sindarin Elf)
- Lysander (Father; deceased) (Silvan Elf)
- Ulla (Aunt; deceased) (Sindarin Elf)
- Kinloch (Uncle; deceased) (Sindarin Elf)

Other Relations:
- Gandalf the Grey (Mentor; alive) (Maiar)
- Thorin II Oakenshield (Friend; alive) (Dwarf)
- Aragorn II Elessar (Friend; alive) (Man)
- Azog The Defiler (Enemy; alive) (Orc)
- Meliya Ardorion (Friend; alive) (Silvan Elf)

[User] "You forget the front gate is sealed. There is no way into the mountain", Balin interrupted her. "That, dear Balin, is not entirely true", the female said before she reached into her suit, taking out what seems to be a key. "You will need this", she said to Thorin, holding it out to him.

[Assistant] "How came you by this?" Thorin eyed the strange female warily, though the dwarf prince was quick to pluck the key from her grasp as it was rightfully his, therefore he should be the one to hold and carry it.

[User] "It was..given..to me, by your father, Thrain, for safekeeping. I was to be trusted with it. Keep it, it's yours", she did hesitate on the first part. She hated to lie, but it was worse to be truthful. She killed Thrain, and took it for her own as memorable trinket; this was what she told Gandalf when he rescued her from the dark enchantment. "If there is a key, there must be a door!", Fili pointed out as he looked at the map in the distance.

[Assistant] "There is, but we'd have a task of finding it. Dwarf doors are invisible when closed, we'd never find it if we don't know where to look." Gandalf explained.

[User] "...and the answer is hidden somewhere on this map. We don't have the skill to find it, but there are others who can. The task will require a great deal of stealth, and no courage. But if we're careful and clever, I believe that it can be done", Maleficent explained to them. "That's why we need a burglar", Ori agreed.

[Assistant]
"And a darn good one I'd imagine." Bilbo agreed with a nod of confirmation, placing his hands on his hips. "An expert, at that."
"He said he's an expert!" Oin exclaimed in delight, suddenly pleased with Gandalf's choice as with his bad hearing he had obviously misheard the hobbit's statement.
"Wha-? No, No! I'm not a burglar, I'm a hobbit!" Bilbo protested vehemently, "I'm sorry, but you'll have to find somebody else!"

[User] "And I'm afraid I have to agree with Mr. Baggins. He's hardly burglar material", Balin commented. "Aye, the wild is no place for gentle folk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves", Dwalin agreed. Soon, the dwarves all started speaking over each other.

[Assistant]
Having had enough of all this squabbling and bickering over Bilbo's suitability for the task, Gandalf finally lost his temper and decided to remind this company of dwarves of the true nature of his power, just to be clear on the matter. The wizard rose quickly to his feet as the room darkened and his voice boomed through the walls loudly.
"ENOUGH! If I say Bilbo Baggins is our burglar, then our burglar he is!" with a slight sigh under his breath, Gandalf released the power he had summoned and returned the light to the room, his expression softening slightly.
"Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet, they can pass unseen by most should they choose to. And while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of dwarf, the scent of hobbit is all but unknown to him, which gives us a distinct advantage. You asked me to find the fourteenth member of this company, and I have chosen Mr. Baggins. There's a lot more to him than appearances suggest, and he's got a great deal more to offer than any of you know, including himself. You must trust me on this."

"....Very well." Thorin conceded, although somewhat reluctantly, as he glowered up at the wizard. "We will do it your way."
"No, no, no!" Bilbo tried to protest, though it appeared it would do no good, as Thorin simply ignored him, his gaze turning to Balin, the oldest looking dwarf of the company.
"Give him the contract."

[User] "Orin. We're off!" "Please" Balin rises to his feet, holding the contract, reading off of it. "It's just the usual summary of out-of-pocket expenses, time required, remuneration, funeral arrangements, so forth", he passes it to Bilbo. "Funeral arrangements?", he opens the contract and starts reading it. As he is reading the contract, Thorin whispers to Gandalf, "I cannot guarantee his safety", already feeling wary and skeptical about having a Hobbit along on a perilous journey.

[Assistant]
"Understood." Gandalf nodded his head in confirmation.
"Nor will I be responsible for his fate." the dwarf prince added firmly, not wanting to take the blame should something unfortunate befall the halfling.
"Agreed..."

[User] "Incineration?", Bilbo paled. "Oh, aye, he'll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye", Bofur informed him in a slur. Bilbo tries to take all this in. "You alright, laddie?" "Huh? Yeah, I fe…", he trailed off as he looks to be catching his breath. "I feel a bit faint" "Think furnace, with wings" "I…I…I need air" "Flash of light, searing pain, then poof! You're nothing more than a pile of ash!" Bilbo thinks for a moment, then looks over at the dwarves. "No", he simply said before he collapsed to the ground.

[Assistant]
"Oh, very helpful Bofur." Gandalf grumbled over at the dwarf, rising from his seat the wizard used his magic to gently rouse the hobbit, who then proceeded to make himself a mug of tea and settled in his armchair.
"I'll be alright," he assured the wizard, "Just let me sit quietly for a moment."
"You've been sitting quietly for far too long!" Gandalf retorted sharply.

[User]
"It appears we have lost our burglar. Probably for the best. The odds were always against us. After all, what are we? Merchants, miners, tinkers, toy makers. Hardly the stuff of legend", Balin stated to Thorin. "There are a few warriors amongst us" "Old warriors. You don't have to do this. You have a choice. You've done honorably by our people. You have built a new life for us in the Blue Mountains. A life of peace and plenty. A life that is worth more than all the gold in Erebor", Balin explained to him. "From my grandfather to my father, this has come to me. They dreamt of the day when the dwarves of Erebor would reclaim their homeland. There is no choice, Balin. Not for me", Thorin shook his head. "Then we are with you, laddie. We will see it done", his friend put a hand to his shoulder.

Maleficent sat near the fire, near the two dwarves named Fili and Kili. She could remember them somehow. They were familiar to her, and their names were coming back to her. No, it couldn't be, could it? Were they? It was almost making sense to her now. Getting courage, she instead approached the youngest, and sat near him. "You're Kili, aren't you?", Maleficent asked the young dwarf.

[Assistant] Kili looked up as he heard someone speak to him and blinked at Maleficent, nodding. "Yes, my name is Kili." he confirmed. "Why do you ask? Do I know you?"

[User] "I figured that I'd know you. And I think I do", Maleficent responded to him in her soft voice. "I think a long time ago that I've seen you. You were children, I think", she pondered in thought. "There was a woman with you. I think...her name was...Dis?", she guessed, trying to find the name of the dwarven woman she too has met.

[Assistant] "My mother." the young dwarf confirmed with a nod at hearing the woman mention his mother's name. "We don't see her very much anymore, but Thorin looks after us."

[User] That was her? It was all coming back to her now, but she finally had it. Widening her eyes, she looked at him. "I remember...", she began to say. "You're my godson, Kili, and your brother", she continued. "She told me that I'm your godmother", Maleficent concluded. "She chose me to be your co-parent when you were just infants", she nodded. "I ran. I figured thought I wasn't capable enough to actually watch a child"

[Assistant] "Perhaps that is why I remember so little of you." the young dwarf suggested, his shoulders rising and falling in a shrug. "All the same, it's good to see you again...I think." he didn't want to be rude, but it seemed awfully strange to him for her to suddenly turn up out of nowhere and claim to be his godmother, he didn't know her in the slightest!

[User] She already noticed and knew that he didn't know her in the slightest. It was true that he wouldn't. Who could know someone and know them if they barely have knew them? It was true that Maleficent didn't feel ready to approach them after the blessing, if she could remember. Plus, she barely stayed with them. How could she prove it? Probably stay with them at all times? Maybe not. Remind them of their mother? Perhaps. Say something that only they would know? There was really no logical evidence with her for proof. Memories were screaming at her in her sleep as well as seeing them everywhere. She looked away to the side. "Do you know what a godmother is?", she asked him in curiosity.

[Assistant] "Someone who's supposed to look after us if our mother ever can't." Kili answered, his eyes watching the flames dance in the hobbit's fireplace. "But I don't think we need one, Thorin looks after us."

[User] That hurt a little, but honestly, it was true. She was strong-willed, but not too strong. "What if he couldn't? How would you feel?", she curiously said before looking at the fire as well. It danced, and danced, like sprites on a flower. "Best for family to stay together, right? Like you and your brother", she finally chuckled for the first time in a while. It has been a while since she ever laughed since she has been here.


[System]
Dove Character Sheet
Nicknames: Cannibal Corpse
Age: 35
Gender: Female
Rank: Special Investigator

Yuuka is a special case. Like some high-ranking Investigators like Kureo Mado, she possesses and uses multiple Quinque in battle. What makes her special is how she uses them. After a long career of throwing herself recklessly into battle against high-ranking Ghouls with little concern to her own life, Yuuka has lost a lot of things. Her arms, a segment of her jaw and a few of her teeth, the left half of her face, and everything below the waist. To compensate for this, she uses specially-made Quinque as replacement limbs. Appearing as prosthetics when not in use, she carries them literally on her person at all times instead of in a bag or suitcase, allowing her to blend in more naturally in areas where there are Ghouls. They include:
 -Right Arm "Migi" (Rinkaku): A tail-like appendage with many leg-like cilia that ends in a poisonous pincer like an insect. The tail's appearance most strongly resembles the spider-tailed horned viper, and it can expand and contract, giving her arm a longer range of movement (at the cost of opposable thumbs while in use). Pictured here in its inert form.
-Left Arm "Hidari" (Koukaku): A giant, club-like arm that's in gross misproportion to the rest of her body. It can be used to shield her and has a powerful punch, and when cocked back it can be fired like a pile-driver in an attack with a slow windup but a devastating finisher, capable of obliterating cars and mortally wounding most Ghouls.
 -Lower Body "Hara" (Bikaku): Her legs have been harvested from a single Ghoul and take the form of raptor-like insectoid legs that have a powerful kick and can run and jump at incredible speeds. Her maximum jumping height is 240 meters and she can run at 370 kilometres per hour, roughly one-third of mach speed and faster than the human eye can follow. This allows her to keep up with the fastest S and SS-rank Ghouls without an Arata, pursue prey across the city and over extreme vertical obstacles, and even dodge bullets to some limited capacity, much like A and S-rank Ghouls. Pictured here in their inert form.
-Face "Me" (Ukaku): A flesh-like covering that hides the left half of her face that was clawed off by a Ghoul, it is easily mistakable for a burn mark, but when it unfolds it becomes six small, featherlike wings capable of firing crystallized Rc cell bullets at high-velocity. Or in other words, a Quinque gun. Like ukaku Ghouls, it has limited stamina and thus limited ammunition, although its exhaustion affects Yuuka little. Therefore she uses it sparingly as a trump card when backed into a corner.
Due to the way her prosthetics are designed (and due to the way prosthetics work in general), her nerves must directly interact with the Rc cells in her new limbs in order to control them, meaning she is directly interfacing with Ghoul flesh when using her Quinque. The more of her limbs' powers she uses, the more violent and irrational she becomes, attacking friend and foe without thinking and even losing control of her limbs. The longer and/or harder she fights, the more feral and Ghoul-like she becomes. Whether this is her limbs having an effect on her body and mind or just the result of adrenaline mixing with painkillers and antidepressants is unclear.
Gentle and matronly, with hints of a bottle fairy, Yuuka occupies a curious space between big sister and team mom. She genuinely cares for her subordinates, and doesn't seem to mind that other investigators mock and fear her. Overall she's a hard-working and kind-hearted person who likes to have fun with her subordinates, but when in battle her personality changes completely. She has developed an acute bloodlust towards Ghouls and will attack them viciously without stopping, often continuing long after they are dead. Her behavior towards Ghouls can only be called sadistic and uncaring, thinking little of human traits like civility and empathy and reverting to primal, animalistic fight or flight mechanisms. She doesn't understand what's wrong with this, as she thinks of Ghouls as bestial sub-humans who are not merely evil but monstrous in their thinking and who must be destroyed, like putting down a feral animal. To her, one species must prevail as the rules of nature dictate, so there is nothing wrong with exterminating Ghouls with extreme prejudice.
Yuuka graduated from the CCG Academy at age 20, and was immediately partnered with the man she would later marry, 1st-class Investigator Matsuoka Kenji. The two developed an extremely close bond, and soon began dating. Before long, they were married, with a child on the way. Yuuka worked hard for the sake of her husband and her newly born child, rising through the ranks quickly to become a 1st-class Investigator just like her husband. Together, they took down a record-breaking number of Ghouls, going undefeated and suffering minimal losses for three straight years. That winning streak finally came to an end during a standoff with an S-class Ghoul that crippled Kenji at the cost of its own life. Battered and broken, the victorious couple were separated after Kenji was demoted due to his injury, which prevented him from working in the field. It was this separation that ultimately proved fatal. The CCG had suspected the Ghoul they'd taken down had actually been part of a much larger gang, perhaps even an organization like Aogiri Tree, and in the end they were right. Other members of the group caught Kenji off-hours and without his Quinque, and tortured him for hours before Yuuka and the CCG managed to rescue him. By that time he was mortally wounded and close to dead, a barely recognizable lump of meat, but he still had enough life left in him to warn his grieving wife about the danger that was still to come. He'd overheard some of the Ghouls talking about searching their house. Concerned for their child's safety, Yuuka rushed home, only to be met with the gruesome sight of a Ghoul devouring her three year old son in much the same way a human would dig into a cut of veal. It was this that finally made Yuuka snap. She attacked the Ghoul, breaking all of his limbs and slowly torturing him to death until the CCG finally arrived at the house and restrained her. Since then she has become an even higher-ranking investigator, and years of throwing herself near-suicidally into fights with Ghouls has begun to show. She has lost her arms, parts of her face, and the entire lower half of her body. In an unorthodox decision, she has decided to replace each of her missing parts with Quinque collected from Ghouls she's killed, making her a truly unique Ghoul-killing machine. Recently she's been partnered with the newbie investigator Hisoka.
Because of her limbs and the disturbing way she fights, other investigators fear and loathe her and refer to her by her Ghoul-given nickname "Cannibal Corpse" behind her back. While the CCG's best physicians assure her that mingling her flesh with that of a Ghoul in such a minimally invasive way won't result in the kind of hybridization that creates one-eyed Ghouls and that this increasingly violent behavior is all in her head, it has done little to dissuade other investigators from mocking and belittling her as a race traitor and a half-breed. Her nickname, "Cannibal Corpse", is a combination name that refers to how she obsessively cannibalizes Ghouls so she can make new Quinque, and how she should by all rights be a corpse after all the wounds she's received. Hence "Cannibal Corpse", a half-dead scavenger who's more Ghoul than human.

[User]
Using what little strength he had left Akurai managed to lift himself of the bludgeoned man just to take two steps and break down next to his father's body. "Come on now dad. Don't play like this, just... wake up. Please?» He knew it was useless, but something inside him just refused to accept the reality. Grabbing onto his father shoulders he shock him slightly, hoping and praying that it would somehow bring him back, but it was to no avail. Laying his father's body back down Aku felt the tears stream down his face as he could no longer deny the truth and as he did the rage and anger had subsided and was replaced by only sorrow. However another feeling from deep inside him also started to resurface, the feeling of hunger.

The hunger had grown greater as he had used his remaining power. The headache he had had turn into the worst on he could remember, almost splitting his head in two. His body shivered and twitched as he tried to deny his instincts. "I can't, I won't"He repeated to himself as he felt his mouth water by the sight of flesh and blood. "I refuse to eat them" His stomach twisted and turned and Aku let out a groan of pain. Biting down on his lip he pushed himself away from his dad and into a corner. He sat there and felt his emotions and instincts play thug of war with him. His mouth watering while he himself bit down on his lip until he remembered something he could eat.

Crawling out from the corner he made his way over to his pray, bloody hand prints stained the floor as he moved and soon he reached the puddle of a man. Reaching down into the bloody mess he felt substance and tor of a part of flesh. Holding it in front of his mouth he repeated "This or them, this or them" until he finally gathered the courage to bite down. However as soon as he felt the taste of the flesh he gagged and dropped the piece. Never had he tasted something so foul, something so disgusting and stomach turning. However only moments later he grabbed the piece back up and took another bite, this time managing to swallow some.

The meal took a few hours as for every second piece he felt his whole system disagree with what he was forcing into it, but he kept it all down and kept forcing himself to eat more. "Last leg now" He said to himself as some sort of motivation to just get done, to just get this hell over with.

Getting up Aku made his way to the shower. His body was numb and his face was emotionless, he was working on autopilot. His clothes made a splash as they hit the floor and as he stepped into the shower the water turned a crimson red. His knuckles stung as the water and soap ran down them and revealed the slight bruising and cuts the bludgeoning had led to.

Stepping out of the shower he quickly dried himself, brushed his teeth and then found a bag. Going into his room he filled the bag with clothes and everything else essential. Down stairs he found the safe he knew was hidden in the wall and tried what he was sure was the code, but that didn't work. The ribbons shot out of his back and he ripped the safe to shreds and then quickly stuffed the money hidden inside into the bag.

Making his way towards the door he stepped over the bodies littered around the living room and as he reached the door he turned and said "Thanks… thanks for everything" then he closed the door behind him, put on his hood and embarked into the dark .

[Assistant]
Totsuka Chou

The dark haired girl glanced behind her at the appearance of the red man, following after him as he walked into the room. As light flooded her, only then did he realize what a true mess she was, her basic manners making her feel uncomfortable as her blood crusted shoes stepped against slick linoleum.

Chou looked from Ishin to the couch, her hands gripping at her skirt as she wondered if it was a test- she was dirty, and no doubt Ishin could see that, yet he wanted her on the pristine looking piece of furniture? Instead, Chou coughed to clear her throat, adapting a straighter stance.

"No need," she answered, voice small and strong all at once, "I only came here to ask for clothes. I'm almost done my meal and I want to lure another one..." Her eyes glanced down at her attire as she added, "But I feel like I'll attract the wrong sort if I keep wearing this..."

As though remembering she was asking for both a changed of clothes as well as the right to hunt in Ishin's grounds, she added, "But don't worry- I'll bring another kill as an offering for you, too, Kuhaku-san, I'm not the greedy sort."

[User]
CCG Headquarters
"Special Investigator Matsuoka?"

Yuuka was surprised to hear her name called and turned her head to face him. The boy standing in front of her was a real cutie. Looked foreign, brown and well-built, like a little mishka. He couldn't have been more than eighteen years old.

"Rank 3 Investigator Araújo Hisoka. I'm your new partner, I think."
This kid is the new recruit? He's not much older than Tatsumi would've been, if he...

A noodle flopped freely and struck Yuuka right in her good eye, making her wince. Yuuka sighed and brushed the cup and the remaining noodles off of her head.

"Sorry about that, there was a little thing with some other investigators and uh... anyway, it's unbecoming of me as an investigator to look so messy in front of my new partner. Feel free to chew me out later for my unprofessional behavior, Sergeant Hisoka sir!" she said, mock saluting. "So you're the newbie, huh? It's nice to meet you. My name's Yuuka. Matsuoka Yuuka, Special Investigator. I'll leave it up to you to decide what to call me."

Yuuka held out her metal hand for Hisoka to shake.