[System]
Gender: Female

Human? You know it!

Personality: If you ever need her, Emma is probably sitting at the back of the class or writing a story in her room. She's not necessarily introverted, but certainly prefers time to reflect on things. She demonstrates a considerable amount of compassion and intelligence, but falls short in terms of rational thinking and physical prowess. In many ways, Emma is "just about average", which is just fine by her. In terms of combat, she's not any more accustomed to fighting than any other girl her age, but she's certainly not afraid of it. However, if there's a way to get out of a situation without doing unnecessary damage, she'll almost always shoot for that first. She loves her friends! And would like, totally die for them (whether she means this or not, time will tell). Gosh she loves Lisa Frank!!

Physical Description: About 4'9", she's not necessarily tiny, but not really medium height either. Somewhere in between. Looks young, thin, with straight black hair that she dresses, but not too much. She normally wears a headband, shorts, keds, and one of the old t-shirts she's inherited from her brothers. So, so, so many bracelets. Could roll around in the dirt and still come out mostly clean.

Favorite Morph(s) (Add later; our characters have not fully discovered their abilities yet!): ;)

[User] Lalna nods, and gives a slight smile to Emma. "Oh yes, I am perfectly fine, it is just... I have always wanted to save the world, do something good for the world without the use of science that could potentially backfire and cause what happened in Terminator... And now, we can use our morphing for good! I have spent all day working out how this could work, and it seems, if we have the ability, we can use it as a weapon against the yeerks, transform into a small insect for covert operations, transform into a large carnivore for guerrilla warfare, and even breach the yeerk base, wherever it is using our morphs! That is, if they work." He says, sounding out of breath and slightly more calm then before, but still excited. He uses his mild knowledge of military tactics from the movies and shows on the telly(such as M.A.S.H) his dad watches on his Sundays off to talk about ways they can fight the yeerk menace, when he notices the deer pointed out by Emma. "Oh! A... What do you call them... A deer, yes, that is the word! If we can get the deer's DNA sequence, we can actually have our first morph, which could be very useful!" He says, looking fondly at the deer, thinking of the possibilities, when his thoughts are broken by a wild Mason accusing him of using drugs on all of them. "Oi, 'old on a minute mate! What's this about me giving you all drugs? Why on earth would I bloody do that! For one, I wouldn't know how to make drugs to cause hallutionations, since I am not a medical chemist, and even though I have access to a variety of chemicals due to my dad being a chemical engineer, I would never use them on you all, since I don't want to hurt anyone! I am a biochemist, an engineer, a true scientist! I don't know why you think I would harm you, for I have no intention of it! Far from it, I actually want to help everyone I can, even if they do not match up to my superior intellect! Maybe you are a primitive brute who is hostile on things they don't understand, but I can assure you, this is all real if we all see it at once. At least, that is what the little voice in my head says. I am not crazy!" He says, going quickly defensive and backing up, trying to defend his case like the mad scientist he is. He quickly goes off topic and starts talking about the voice in his head, that acts as a mentor to him, most likely as a result from the chemical fumes he comes into contact with every few days. He then notices Steph, and tips his helmet to her, quickly changing his attitude, pretending his conversation with Mason never happened, a good skill of his. "Oh, don't worry, I haven't told anyone about this... Because, if I told anyone about this, they would either dismiss me as having some sort of drug trip, which is likely due to me being an apprentice to a mad scientist, lock me up in an insane asylum, which is likely as well, or try to bring me to a psychiatrist. Who would we talk to? We could try to contact the andelites, but I would need to spend days working on a device to try to contact them, which I can do while everyone else does the grunt work. If I can get into contact with them, we will be able to tell them of the Yeerk menace! But we would need to hold off the invasion, which how can we do it? We are only a group of kids, and only one of us, that is me, is intelligent enough to even begin to experiment and fabricate things to hold off on the enemy." He says, quickly going off on a tangent, sounding thoroughly crazy and even a little psychopathic as he begins to talk about things that are not even related, but could end up being a good answer to a different question.

[Assistant]
Emma used Lalna's rambling to break away for a second. She cautiously approached the deer... and to her surprise, it didn't run away. Actually, it was almost as if they were bowing their head. Though scared, Emma reached her hand forward and accepted the graceful creature's blessing. As her hand met the fuzzy head, she instantly felt weird, and she could tell it did too. Its eyes fluttered for a second as the tension in its body vanished under her touch, and she felt herself relax as she visualized the being before her. After a moment of deep connection, she took her hand back.

"Guys," she called, "I think this is legit. Look." She indicated the deer. "I just touched it, and it's like... hypnotized, I think? And I kind of felt weird for a second, and I mean I still do... listen, I think the Andalite guy said something about acquiring the DNA of these animals, right? I think I just did that. I'm... kind of scared to take the next step though." She looked down for a second, and jumped a little when the deer woke up and took off back into the bushes.

"What do I do with this?"

[User]
---

Tammy was surprised that a deer had come so close to them having hunted the creatures in the past and found them to be the most careful of animals because of their prey status in the animal kingdom. Then when Emma reached out and touched the animal and it froze it reminded her of a spotlighted deer in the headlights of her snowmobile back home in Alaska.

She would have given it more thought but the argument about being drugged as well as the odd way Lalna spoke distracted her from further examination of Emma and the deer's interaction.

Clearly Mason's claims that "You all know we just got pricked by… Some drug laced needle, or inhaled some toxin or something that gave as hallucinations right." seemed an attempt at denial of the facts presented.

Most of the details she'd been able to find out about such things usually stressed a strong sociological component shared by the people who claimed to have seen such wild things as religious apparitions when she'd tried to look for books in the library on psychology early that morning.

Goddess how she wished that there was a larger library nearby but there wasn't so she had to go with the local availability. The thought made her giggle a little when she compared it to Killdeer which had a library so small it had a sign that said it had a capacity of only 50 allowed by the fire marshal.

Then she turned her attention towards the oddly named boy Lalna
"Oh, don't worry, I haven't told anyone about this... Because, if I told anyone about this, they would either dismiss me as having some sort of drug trip, which is likely due to me being an apprentice to a mad scientist, lock me up in an insane asylum, which is likely as well, or try to bring me to a psychiatrist. Who would we talk to? We could try to contact the Andelites, but I would need to spend days working on a device to try to contact them, which I can do while everyone else does the grunt work. If I can get into contact with them, we will be able to tell them of the Yeerk menace! But we would need to hold off the invasion, which how can we do it? We are only a group of kids, and only one of us, that is me, is intelligent enough to even begin to experiment and fabricate things to hold off on the enemy."

His Ego was huge which was obvious in the way he spoke and normally she'd have just laughed in his face but in their present situation she didn't feel like laughing because on many of the things she agreed with him. If they told anyone about what they'd seen so far even Killdeer might not be remote enough to escape the ridicule they would suffer and if people believed them they'd all get the E.T. treatment. The government would make them all disappear into some lab where they'd be studied like some lab rats and possibly imprisoned for the remainder of their days or even killed so they could study their brains and bodies if this Shape changing ability was the real thing.

It was then that she made up her mind that like Alex Rogan recruited by the Rylan Star League to fight the Ko-Dan Empire she'd make her stand and go down fighting.

So finally she broke her silence and said I understand why everyone is freaking out but the idea that we all suffered the same hallucination is doubtful because I've don't even know any of you all that well and I am sure I share only a little bit of the same experiences and influences any of the rest of you do.

Till a year ago I attended the Ross School in Killdeer Alaska where we all shared the same experiences because the town only had 193 kids between 5 to 18 years old. From what I read this morning we would all need to have similar life experiences and beliefs which just listening to Lalna makes me sure isn't the case.

She had to laugh to let off steam before she continued because even she found what she was saying so off the wall
Occam's Razor which says "The simplest explanation is usually the correct one." it was the basis of Sherlock Holmes.

Denial of what we have all experienced is more harmful than accepting and testing it; if our tests fall flat then we turn ourselves in for testing by the headshrinkers.

Besides I'd love it to be true that we aren't alone in the galaxy and that there are people out there trying to fight some evil force on our behalf and if that's true I also don't want to play the damsel in distress and let them do the fighting on my behalf

[Assistant]
"You don't know that for sure." Mason said, arguing against Tammy's reasoning and gesturing towards Lalna in a meaningful way. "Are you guys listening to yourselves? Aliens, invasions, and super powers? That's crazy talk, that sort of thing doesn't happen. But you know what does happen, freaks like him exposing kids to dangerous drugs because he's wandering around free as you please and not locked up in the loony bin where he belongs!" For a moment Mason's anger grew to the point where he felt like striking Lalna, and removing a few teeth from the egocentric man's big mouth. Curling his hands into fists he took a step forward but was almost immediately halted by Emma's sudden movement. Awestruck Mason watched in disbelief as the young girl stepped forward and laid a gentle hand upon the deer's upturned head. The creature seemed frozen, as if turned to wax, not even blinking as an invisible energy passed between acquired and acquirer.

 The spell was broken by the deer's rapid exit. Mason sat down hard on the dirt path, clutching his head as a fresh migraine permeated his consciousness. Whatever he had just witnessed, it was real. There was power there, a power he'd never really imagined to be truly possible. No amount of rationalization could really allow for comprehension with this new reality and at last Mason accepted that there may be some truth in the unexplainable. Faith would have to accommodate where reason fail to provide.

 "I – How – I don't understand…" Mason moaned still somewhat unwilling to believe that, even though Emma could touch and hypnotize the deer, she could now morph into it. Although it only made sense that if one part of the equation fit, the second part should function properly as well. "Elfangor, he thought-spoke to us didn't he. He told us to focus hard on the creature we acquired and we would change…" Mason sighed, squeezing at his skull to try and rid himself of the pain. "I'm not sure we should do this, if it is real. How much could five kids and a nut-job scientist really do against what we saw in that construction site? We'd end up getting killed, or worse getting our families killed. And I can't lose another family, not again."

[User]
"Just... focus? That's it?" Emma was incredulous; was it really that simple? "Okay, I'll try it, but I'm going to need peace and quiet. This is kind of... terrifying."

She took a deep breath as all fell silent, their eyes fixed on the small girl. Okay, okay... think about the deer. The deer... She began to recall every detail of the deer: its eyes, its soft fur, its graceful form. As she thought about its ears, she felt a tingle on her own skull, like... like her ears were moving? She began to notice all sorts of changes in herself, big and small. Everything was shifting in her body, and she began to cry out.

"Guys! What-what is this! Ah!" She fell forward, poised on her hands and- not her knees, but her hooves? She felt scared and sick and yet so amazed all at once. Her skin tingled as it sprouted fur, and her newly formed ears twitched at the slight sounds of the forest. "Th-this is sooooghaghhh!" Her mouth stretched into a snout. The changes were complete.

Suddenly, she was extremely afraid. Like, terrified. She bolted into the woods.


[System]
Age: 23

Appearance:

Profession: Impalement Artist

Bio: Kathryn, or Kate as her friends call her, was an orphan from the night she was born. She was left on the front walk of an orphanage and nearly froze to death that night until a caretaker heard her weak cries and brought her in. She was raised there, becoming close friends with another young girl who had been taken in. At the age of 7, she and her friend ran away from the orphanage and found themselves as part of a traveling circus. That is where Kathryn was really raised, taking an interest early on in the art of impalement, specifically throwing knives. Eventually, she proved her worth and earned her own act in the show, though she had plenty of scars to show her journey.

Name: Elijah Petrova

Age: 27

Appearance:

Profession: Animal Caretaker/Impalement arts assistant

Bio: Eli grew up in the circus, his father being one of the main proprietors of the many animals the circus required for its shows. He knows many trades within the show, after all he basically lives and breathes the ring. After his father's passing, Elijah decided to remain with the circus and continue his legacy with the various animals. He also helps Kathryn with her knife throwing act, since they had met when they were both young, they learned the trade together. She convinced him eventually to let her thrown sharp pointy objects at him, and he eventually grew to trust her with his life.

[User]
Claire snorted. "I can stay clean for days if I wanted too, alas my sweet kittens would miss me then." She finished eating the apple and threw it away.

"Well, I am queen of the kings of animals." She pouted when Kate laughed at her, brushing some hay out of her hair. "More than anyone else could claim."

"Yeah, Yeah. I can handle Elena. She's just another lioness, albeit of a more terrifying kind." Claire laughed. It was too true a description regarding the circus director.

She waved farewell to Kate as well when they parted ways. Her first stop was to clean herself up in one of the baths. As she wasn't particularly fond of water she didn't spend long doing that, and returned to her own wagon to find that someone had been inside it. She hoped they'd just come looking for her and not gone snooping through her belongings. Either way, she changed into a different set of clothes. They were torn here and there, because it seemed more realistic if her kittens did scratch or roar at her while she did her lion taming act. No one wanted to watch a bunch of big cats lying still, enjoying being petted and purring loudly. It wasn't what they paid for.

She picked up one of her whips as well, and then headed back towards the cages of the big cats. On the way there she made sure to pass by Elena's wagon, since she wanted to check if she was in her wagon or walking around keeping an eye on everyone. Claire heard chanting coming from inside the wagon, not a rare occurrence, but usually it was in a language she could recognize as a language. It didn't sound like Russian or English. It sounded like she was speaking in tongues. Claire raised an eyebrow, but kept walking, confident in the fact that Elena wouldn't be coming to check up on her anytime soon.

Claire released a couple of her kittens that were already awake. The panther and a lion to be more specific. The panther walked out of its cage with its head turned upwards, acting like a true prima donna. Claire petted her on the back, and got a glare in return. "Oh shush, Sheila."
The lion acted more like he was glad to see her, putting his paws around her neck and purring. "Good morning, Scar, lovely day."
She spent a couple of hours going through their routine, changing which one of her feline partners she trained with every now and then to make sure no one was going to try to act more wild or playful than usual that day. Sheila was the only one with an attitude on her, but she was always like that and still performed with the most grace during training and show.

Claire only had to use her whip once, and even then she hit the ground to make two of the tigers stop play fighting and pay attention. The sound of the whip alone was usually enough to control any one of them. She hated when she had to actually use it, so it had happened that situations had gotten out of control before she went that far.

Once her stomach began to complain, Claire decided it was time to take a break. The animal caretakers would come and feed each of her partners, but she had to find food herself. She headed over to where Kate would be practicing and found her alone.

"Oh, did your manly assistant not want to eat dinner with you?" Claire teased. "I guess only the wild cats dare approach someone as sharp as you. How about eating something, or would you rather get another hug?"

[Assistant]
It was a long practice for Eli and Kate, but they both had to be perfect if each of them wanted to limit the number of stab wounds on their bodies. As the hours passed, they moved from weapon to weapon and act to act, planning out the night's show so that it went off without a hitch. Eventually, it was time to practice the spin board: a giant round piece of wood that rotated on a pole, and on it was a silhouette of a human body, about the size of Elijah.

"Alright now remember, tonight that'll be me in the flesh... try not to kill me, yeah?" Eli walked up to the board and gave it a tug, sending it spinning around in circles, the target dancing around in rotation. Kate drew in a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment, and then opened them. She sent out three knives, one after the other in steady rhythm, and listened as they each hit the board milliseconds after the one before.

Eli stopped the spin board and grinned, "Very well done, Kate. Try to replicate that tonight." He looked up at the sky and then around, noticing it was lunchtime as people were moseying about with their food. "Well, I've got animals to feed before I find my own meal. Don't have too much fun without me." He waved as he walked off and Kathryn was left alone to clean up from practice and find herself supper.

She had just finished putting away her blades when Claire strolled up, chipper as ever. She opened up her arms wide and grinned, "Well, why not both? At least you smell better this time." She gave a quick wink and a chuckle along with it before embracing her friend. "Now, what shall we eat? I do believe I have some more apples in my wagon if this animal you speak of has developed such a craving." She laughed but finished putting away her blades and then dusted off her hands.

"How about we head to the commons tent and see what they've got cooked up? Might be something worth while since we are in London after all. It at least has to be better than that rubbish we got during the Dublin show." She patted her friend on the back and began walking towards a large white tent that sat to the east of the main camp.

Within meters of the tent, the smell of food could be smelt as the aroma drifted out the doors and into the open air. "See, it already smells better." Kate grinned and walked inside, looking over to a line of tables where cooks had arranged the day's meal. Nothing fancy, but a sufficient amount of lamb and roast summed up the protein, while potatoes, cheese, and bread rounded out the rest.

Kathryn grabbed a plate and filled it with meat and bread, staving from potatoes due to the aforementioned Irish tour, where potatoes were in every meal of every day. She waited for Claire and then exited the tent to find them a nice place to sit, finding a sunny, grassy area on a small hill that overlooked part of the circus camp.

"Well, Queen Feline," She took a bite of lamb, "how are your creatures today? Should I expect an excellent show, as always?"

[User]
Claire was a bit surprised and considerably disappointed when Kate took her threat as an invitation. While she had nothing against hugging her friend and she had taken a bath, it would not do if others began to notice that she was tame and huggable, not wild and a bit of a misanthrope - preferring the company of Solomon over most humans.

She followed Kate to the commons tent, where the smell of meat permeated the air and made her stomach grumble. "Mhm, I need meat if I want to keep up my reputation." Claire said in response to the comment about the Dublin show. "Raw meat doesn't taste that good even if they were willing to share." They hadn't been though. Not even Solomon.

Claire put lamb and roast on her plate until those working the kitchen commented on how she should be eating other things too, to which she responded with a growl. She did take some bread and quite a bit of cheese as well though in the end.

When Kate left the commons tent, Claire raised an eyebrow and wondered why they wouldn't be eating there. She wasn't so much of a savage that she didn't know how to use a chair and table, as uncomfortable and crude as those in the tent may be. She went with her anyway, and sat down with her back against a rock.

It was a nice view from up here. They could see part of their home while eating, how very quaint. Claire picked up some of the lamb with her hands and began to eat it, so that when Kate asked her a question about her part of the show she could only mumble a response. She quickly swallowed and put the food down.

"Queen Feline…?" She grimaced, but then grinned. "So what should I call you? Pretty princess with a bow?" Claire laughed, then bit off another piece of the lamb to chew on. "My kittens are just dandy. Some of them are a bit playful like usual, and Sheila is a bit temperamental like usual. Of course you should expect an excellent show from me, and I better see one from you as well. Do I finally get to see you miss your target and hit your man, huh? I'd like to see the shock on everyone's faces if you do." She smiled at Kate. "Especially your own."

Claire returned her full attention to the food, but made sure to listen to whatever Kate had to say. It wasn't uncommon for her to talk and Claire to simply listen. She enjoyed simply being around the other girl who'd escaped with her from the orphanage all those years ago. To Claire, it was enough to sit in silence at times.

Once she'd finished eating, greedily gorging down the meat and then finishing off the meal with the bread and cheese, she changed her position so she was lying down in the grass and closed her eyes. That rock had been a bit painful against her back. She knew she may fall asleep for a short nap if she didn't watch herself, but at least Kate was right there to wake her up. Unfortunately, Kate already knew that Claire didn't smell bad this time around, so she had nothing to dissuade her from doing it. She sighed, and smiled.

[Assistant]
"I'm afraid if I miss my target I may very well be out of a job, so let us hope that is not the case."

Kate laughed and pecked at her food, going on with the conversation. "And I am a pretty princess, thank you for noticing." She grinned and then looked out over the camp. The Big Top was not set up yet, but the workers could be seen setting the support beams and assembling the large tent in preparation for the night to come.

Kate set her plate to the side, but continued talking to Claire, even though responses were few and far between. She had a bad habit of rambling on about many random things that had no particular relevance, but she was glad to have a friend that was willing to listen to her endless talking and not beg her to shut up.

"So I heard the horse trainers had to go out and catch the equine after someone left the stable gate open. Crazy things are happening around here, let me tell ya. People need to be more careful..." She kept talking, about anything that came to mind. It was several minutes later before she realized she had not heard from Claire in many moments.

"Oi, are you still hanging in there? I know I've said a mouth full, but-"

Kate saw that her friend was lying on her back with her eyes closed. The sun was beaming down, warming their skin and marking a clear and beautiful day, which was something of a pleasant surprise. Kate watched Claire for a few minutes. How at ease she was and how confident she was with herself and her big cats, it impressed Kate.

She wished that she could have that same confidence, but she was happy as she were with her life. She allowed herself to reminisce about all those years ago, before either of the girls were here with the circus. They were miserable, left alone in an orphanage with little hope of being adopted. Sure, the caretakers there were kind and caring of them, but for Kate at least, she craved more even at that young age.

That's how they ended up here, in one of the best and most renowned circus shows in the entire world. She smiled to herself as she thought about it, realizing she never would have had the guts to leave or to join a circus had it not been for Claire. Looking down at the camp, she began to notice people stirring again, as the sun was beginning its descent towards the horizon. Kate gave Claire a shake and grinned.

"Wakey, wakey. I hope you enjoyed your cat nap, but we have a show to perform in just a few short hours."


[System]
Age: 2445
Gender: Male
Species: Elder Vampire (Human)
Looks:
cdnb.artstation.com/p/assets/images/i…

Personality: Martel is a surprisingly jovial and goodnatured fellow, kind and caring to those he calls friends and an utter nightmare to his enemies. He loves sharing stories of his countless adventures to everyone who would listen. He never asks for monetary payment for anything these days - after all nearly 25 centuries of adventuring have left him a very wealthy man. He does not hide his vampirism, but keeps his bloodthirst in check at even the worst situations.

Skills: Master level swordsman, mage and thief, greatly enhanced physical strength, reflexes, speed and durability, Near-immunity to mind affecting spells, vast knowledge of the planes, near-immunity to the effects of sunlight.

[User] Mira glanced over at Travis again and then put her stein of light ale on the bar gently, "I'll take another." Mira glanced over at Assallya, slightly surprised to see another elf. Mira had little quirks and attitudes written down on a little pad of paper and the page was mostly filled with Travis's quirks. "I thought I was the strange one..." she muttered to herself, what she had written down on the paper as the bartender handed her another stein of light ale.

[Assistant]
Cointooth heard the voice and immediately recognized it. He'd sold that guy... what was it? Ah yes, he sold him that Soul Sapphire a few months back. A bit over half a year, now. Name of... Travis, probably? That sounded right.

Cointooth flashed a smile at the approaching mage, his golden canine tooth throwing a spot of yellow light onto the wall. "Mister Davison," Cointooth said with the usual Goblin rasp. Goblins were said to talk as if they were in the middle of chewing a mouthful of gravel. Cointooth was no exception, but his voice was strangely deep for a Goblin.

"I hope that trinket I sold you was of good use." Cointooth had acquired that particular gem through a fence who'd picked it out of a wizard's pocket. Grabshine had gotten it extra cheap, since the fool had no idea what he had. Grabshine bought it at normal Sapphire price, and sold it to Travis at above average cost due to a "recent shut down" of a mine in Al-Zaram that provided much of the sapphire for the region. Cointooth had been a very happy goblin for about a week off that purchase.

"I am glad that the winds of time and circumstance have brought you to me again. Have you found yourself in need of additional trinkets, or is this simply a friendly visit?" Grabshine took a deep breath through his nose, then took a pull from his pipe and blew a stream of blue smoke. Travis smelled of a human on the cusp of seeking someone to warm their bed. Apparently he'd spotted someone he fancied. Cointooth said nothing of this for now. But he would bring it up when it seemed right.

Crim

[User]
For just the briefest moments everything was a blur, time seemed to slow down, everything sounded... strange. Then the tall, pale man stood very casually in front of the bar counter. A massive black sword slung lazily across his back, it's rune covered blade fully visible. There seemed to be nothing actually holding the sword attached to his back, but judging by the low hum of magic surrounding the man it would have not been a surprise if magic was at work.

The Duke of Blackwood smiled warmly as he spread his arms, parting his cape made of many different coloured patches of finest silk. He wore a wide brimmed hat and in his left hand held a smoking pipe made of finest wood and ivory. In each of his fingers was a ring with different gemstone on it. Martel took a moment to look around the tavern before casually pocketing the pipe and pulling finely made lute from under his cape.

He strummed the instrument lazily for a moment, the lazy strumming become a slow tune that began collecting speed. At least his entry this time had not included crashing through the roof whilst fighting a dragon.

[Assistant] Mira stared at him for a few seconds before muttering something to herself in elvish. She didn't see him much as a threat but was very intrigued by him. She continued kinda muttering to herself in elvish as she wrote on her little pad of paper. Mira was would glance over at him every few seconds, slightly humming along to the melody.

[User] "It did the trick quite well." Travis said with a smile and a nod. "Certainly helped with containing that elemental in order to deter those thieves, if you know what I mean." Travis chuckled a bit as he nudged Cointooth inferring that the thieves met with a more grim fate than just being scared away. Travis sipped from his cup again and almost spilled when a sudden gust came over the table as if a large paper fan had been swung in their direction. "No, this is not a business trip." Travis said peering over the many patrons to see where the gust had come from, but to no avail. He rest in his seat once more before continuing. "I'm not here of my own volition, mind you. I asked Chester if he could find some drink and food for after my ritual. Pretty clear instructions I thought..." Travis sipped once more before putting on a disappointed look. "Nooo... not to an Imp. Chester decided he would do it the other way round, gah... Should have never given him that stone of summoning." Travis looked into his mug. "I guess if you have a live Owlbear for sale?" Travis was joking, of-course, Owlbears were illusive, and highly territorial. The fact that he left one dieing, and would likely be dead soon without completing the ritual, somewhere near meant that it was likely the only one for a few hundred miles. "How's business been? Still able to find those unique trinkets and charms I see." Travis said as he looked over Cointooth's back. He could feel something muffled from within the bag, as usual, a magical presence that Travis was never quite sure was a spell on the bag itself or something hidden by Cointooth for just the right buyer.

[Assistant]
Crim

Cointooth's mouth widened in a jagged grin. "Do I have owlbears on my person? No. Do I know exactly who to talk to about getting you one? Yes. I do. There's a healthy market for the beasts, though not one most know about." Cointooth took a long pull from his pipe and blew two streams of blue smoke from his large nose.

"These trinkets are for the commoners. The passersby, you know? The folks who need a little something to make their lives a touch easier. A locket that can point north, a ring that illuminates in the darkness, a hand sickle that can cut on its own... simple things. Any mage could make them, for a steep fee. But I sell them much cheaper. Much cheaper, indeed." Cointooth never lost his grin.

"But of course, for clients such as yourself, I have much deeper pockets than I seem. I've a great deal of items that can be of interest to mages and their like. Especially those with Specialty Interests."

[User] (Sorry, didn't realize I needed approval, once approved this will be edited to be my intro)

[Assistant]
The tall man kept strumming his lute and suddenly started singing in a clear voice. He sang a song from times long past, of the the heroes of his youth, the Grand Conclaves of Mages and their wars against Dragon Kings long since forgotten by those not well vested in the bardic lore. He sang of heroics and tragedies, keeping the speed and tune of the songs fast and positive. His fingers danced on the strings of the lute with the skill of a man who had dedicated a very long time of his considerable lifetime practicing his craft.

Martel walked around the bar with a confident saunter, a spring to his step as he played and sang. A good natured, warm smile on his lips as he went from the heroic and tragic songs to a fun drinking song about a farmer and his pig - The song was admittedly quite bawdy and rather explicit in it's wording, but it was all in good fun.

[User]
He was flying in the ear-popping night air on his way to the Red Dragon, a place he had not visited for a great while. Kobe had grown dissatisfied. Every meal was the same. He could not find a long-term buddy. He needed a new residence, one without roaches and other pests. What makes a vampire's human side relevant? Alcohol.

The drink was engineered every time you turned around. This one was an Italian light beer, and the other one tasted like lemonade, and another one was from Russia and it was a non-alcohol alcohol. Kobe was light flying around. He had two shots of liquor, to get in the mood. Maybe an Italian beer thought the ninty five-year old bloodsucker.

He arrived on the street where the Red Dragon was. He slowed down and stopped halfway there. He was on the side walk, and looked around to understand the area. The first and only thing he noticed was an open 24/7 bakery south from where he prospected. How tasty that would be! He would go retail on their asses when he was ready to. Suddenly, he tasted liquor on his tongue. So, he walked up the street and entered the bar.

He did not say a word. He looked the place over, and it was as good as ever. He kept on his baseball cap, and his jeans and the well-made yellow colored boots. He had gotten warm with being solitary, but for now he sat at the bar and ordered one beer. He didn't realize it, but even sitting at the bar, his aura pushed everyone away. But, he was feeling several people.

[Assistant] Darksoul trudges through the allyway, sighing as he travels. I need a drink. Something strong, before I kill something again. He drums his fingers on the hilt of his blade, and drifts out of the allyway. Looking up, he sees the brightly lit bar. Red Dragon, eh? Sounds like my kind of place. His eyes glow white, and he floats up to the door, flinging it open. He moves through the crowd, following the sound of singing. Something about a pig? He gets to the bar itself, and sighs. "Bartender. What've you got that's strong?"

[User] Martel brought his song to an end and stashed his lute under his cloak, making it disappear again. He chuckled and bowed with a flourish before lazily, but confidently sauntering over to the counter. "It is rare these days to see another vampire." He stated politely, not really looking at Kobe, but clearly acknowledging the younger man's presence. "Then again... many things are a rarity. Adventure? Damsels in distress? Proper elven wine? All of those fine things are a rarity! How are you, neighbor?" The black clad man turned his red eyes towards Kobe and flashed a smile. "Had any adventures worthy of song?"

[Assistant]
The young vampire put a tell on himself when he looked at ShadowDragon, but his attention drifted.

He looked upon the one saying to him how they shared the gift together. The things he had listed demonstrated classic vampire chronicles from all over the world. He had things under his belt, and if this man cloaked himself in black and performed to this big bar scene, he was something.

It wasn't like it was pioneering ball-and-chain technology. None of this was new. Scary, aged and skilled vampire lurking around in the night, half drunk from wine, erect from the smell of so much hot, sweaty blood wandering around, practicing spells and what else there might be.

When the old vampire joked with him, and asked him to play a song, then wound up eye to eye for a clear second which cast a little fear in Kobe. But, he smiled.

"Who are you, the pied piper? I like you. It's not in my time that I have an associate. Play something new, by the standards of that man walking through the door with the color red in his hue and an luminescence from his socket. He looks like he could be dangerous. Should we call him over, or do you know the more interesting"

[User] Mira glanced over at the two vampires and muttered something to herself. She seemed more intrigued by the two then afraid and she was tempted to ask them about their names. Mira scribbled something down on her little notepad she had with her. Her silver eyes had a slight glint of intrigue as of the fact she had never actually seen vampires before.

[Assistant] Darksoul looks up at Kobe, and bears his fangs in a smile. "Sing, bard. Sing us a song of battle." His white glowing eyes bore into Kobes, and he chuckles. "Regale us with your music." He gestures with his glowing black sword, and drains his drink. He turns slightly, his undead presence beginning to corrupt and rot the chair he's sitting in.

[User]
Martel flashed a warm smile - it was perhaps strange to see a vampire able to show proper, positive emotions. He took a step back and spread his arms, bowing politely and sighing like he had been expecting Kobe's question. "Well, my young compatriot. Allow me to take the stage and provide proper introductions then! You are in the presence of His Grace, Martel Griffonsbane, the 1st Duke of Blackwood, Master Bard Extraordinaire, Magna Alumni, 1st Blademaster of the Order of Golden Dragon, Wielder of the Weave, Teller of Tales, Feller of Foes, Singer of the Songs, Planeswalker of Great Renown, Shatterer of the Black Seal, Slayer of Arioch, Wielder of the Black Blade." He straightened up and motioned at the large black sword at his back. "This here is Stormbringer, the Black Blade, forged by the Chaos Gods many eons ago. In mine hands he has gained the title Bane of Arioch." The black blade seemed to hum in approval to the old vampire's words.

"I hate to brag - heh, nay, that would be a blatant lie. I am a horrid braggart when it comes to such things. Then again, after centuries of adventuring these titles have piled up." The man chuckled and rolled his eyes. "Perhaps all of you would appreciate a drink or two? On my tap of course! Today all the drinks are on me!" *He did a very... bardic... flourish towards the collection of drinks and towards the counter. "After all, very few people tend to be able to stomach my songs and stories with a dry throat!"


[System]
Andredian | 30 | Male

Appearance

The first thing an outside observer may notice about Aldrich is his almost perpetual frown. His features severe and eyes always focused and scanning his surroundings in an almost paranoid manner. Beneath his weathered armour lies a body marred by the scars of hardship and abuse, his back a criss-cross of shining white scar tissue left by a vicious lash, as well as a collection of scars on his extremities caused by all manner of martial weapons. Nevertheless he stands tall, with pride hefted on his shoulders and carried with earned dignity.

Personality
When Aldrich speaks, he makes sure not to mince his words. He's blunt to a fault, and never raises his voice, save to bellow a roar of fury towards any opponent unfortunate enough to find itself on the wrong end of his sword. However, were one patient enough, and gentle in their prying they may uncover a rather dry sense of humour, and his own ironclad sense of justice. Justice dispensed at sword point more often than not. Though it must be stressed, that although Aldrich is no stranger to violence, he abhors the battle, and loves only the victory. If he ever appears to be brutal or barbaric in his manner of combat it is only due to his desire to end a conflict quickly and decisively.

Background

* Profession - Man-at-Arms (presently adrift)
* Class - Warrior
* Heritage - Lowborn

History
Aldrich was the son of a farmer who sent his boy off to become a Knight. It was the only way out of the drudgery of peasant life the family had any hope for and Aldrich's parents were all too eager to ship him off. He was placed under the care and tutelage of Lady Erissia, a famed and renowned Knight of The Crimson Guard who trained him in the manners of martial arms and courtly duties. He proved to be a clumsy swordsman, and struggled with reading and writing, yet ever-stubborn Erissia refused to give up on the boy. He eventually became a squire and was able to ride with Erissia and her Knights in battle. It was during a fateful skirmish in the land of the Dwemorlocks that Erissia and her Knights were slain. They were there on a crusade of righteousness, the Dwemerlocks standing against everything they held sacred, and longed to spill their foes blood upon their own shores. Their eagerness would lead to their deaths.
Aldrich, trembling at the sight of his mentor slain before him, anticipated his own death with terrible certainty.
Yet it did not come. Instead, he was captured, enslaved and forced to fight as a prisoner. At first he refused, throwing down the weapons and crying to any gods who may listen to offer him deliverance from his foul captors. His pleas fell of deaf ears, and with each lash of the whip his will was broken down until he learned to spill blood for the sadistic pleasure of the crowds.

It was this way for several years. The clumsy boy who used to fumble and drop his sword was now a hardened warrior who had killed too many men to bother counting. His body had grown accustomed to surviving on whatever rodents or insects he was able to snatch from his cage.
Life changed upon the addition of a new prisoner, one also native to Andred. They found a kinship with one another based on their mutual lineage and similar circumstances. They did their best to keep their friendship a secret, as they each knew it would result in severe punishment. Yet it was enough to return some light and life to Aldrich. The pivotal moment came when he was forced into combat with the man, pitted against him in a battle to the death. Aldrich threw down his sword and shield and loudly refused to fight. The friend he had made, with tears in his eyes, plead for him to strike him down. His willingness to sacrifice his own life for Aldrich only enforced his refusal. How could he kill this man who displayed such noble grace, in this land where nobility seemed strange and foreign? Aldrich was lashed to unconciousness right there, but not before he was made to watch his only friend run through.

Unbeknownst to Aldrich, a visiting Basilean noble on a mission of diplomacy had been in attendance. Lady Viera DeFeis was moved by the the man who refused to fight, even after he was shredded to pieces by the cruel whip. She negotiated his sale, and they were all too happy to be rid of the troublesome slave.
Now liberated from the Dwemorlocks he returned with her to her homeland where he served as her bodyguard until her death from illness where he was released from service. With nowhere left to call home, he took to the roads, taking advantage of his freedom to see the world. Lady DeFeis had often told him of the exotic locales her travels had taken her to and he longed to experience the same. Too many years shackled in a small cage left him with a deep yearning for freedom.

Reason for Travel
With no place left to call home, Aldrich felt the call of the uncharted southern lands. He felt compelled him to make his way there, and he managed to scrounge enough money to book passage aboard the Skirmisher.

Motivation/Goal
Aldrich longs to find a home to settle down, yet also has to quell the disparity in his heart and overcome the traumas of his past.

Capabilities
Despite his initial incompetence, Aldrich became a fearsome swordsman, favouring a sword and shield combination. He can also make deadly use of a shield in a pinch. His fighting style lacks finesse, yet makes up for it in pure ferocity.
Due to years of staving off starvation by eating whatever he could get his hands on, he developed tremendous constitution, able to weather the effects of disease and poison beyond what a regular man might.

Equipment

*
*
*

Money

Languages
Northern

---

[User]
Compared to Andredian soil or even just the soil of the Caelic isles he was most used to, the sand of this anonymous beach felt like lava. Not only was it scorchingly hot, but it also gave way in a manner perfectly suited to slow down things while making them more strenuous as well. Silently, Lachlan made a few small steps backward until his feet reached a spot that was regularly covered by the waves. Even more soft, but so nicely chill!

"Getting to Darkwater along this beach, even just assuming that there's no body of water between us and there ? Not with me! I vote for the jungle!"

Not that he did like that choice very much either as he could already imagine how the plantlife would turn the pure heat into a sweltering heat, but it would be less troublesome in other ways...

"We should try to stay close to the beach however, simply because if Darkwater is somewhere around this place, following the rough outline of the beach will guarantee us to find it." Having already navigated around some debris, the Caelic man was not hesitant to add: "It might also guarantee us to find more junk, some of which might be useful..."

Hadn't he just spotted something shiny glistening in the sun that was too large to be a grain of sand ? The red haired walked a few steps into said direction, pulling what turned out to be a carving knife out of the ditch. Some sort of leather bag seemed to be what it had fallen out of. Lacking any means to hide any items taken anyway, Lachlan just held it in his one hand while presenting the knapsack to the others.

[cllor=yellow]"If nobody else wants, I'll take this bag. Somebody should take the thing definitely unless we all want to walk around with our hands full! And we all should search this place thoroughly before leaving. If we made it here, a lot of other stuff might have made it, too."[/color]

Water would be nice... Lachlan started searching without stating specifically what else he was looking for while waiting for the others' reactions.

[Assistant]
---

As Jacqueline limped across the beach, ignoring the dead bodies in her wake, she noticed movement. At first, she worried it was local beasts smelling the fresh kills and hoping for a decent meal, but the figures were human-shaped. That didn't mean they weren't dangerous and Jacqueline cursed the Captain for removing her weapons.

As her eyes settled, she noted that they were part of the passengers on board alongside her. She hadn't made conversation with them, but she recognized them nonetheless. She limped her way over, noting everyone looked worse for wear. As she got closer, another figure on the ground moved. She became on guard again, wondering if the dead were coming back to life until she saw it was the Captain.

The options were not great, but it bet sitting on the beach cooking in the sun and waiting for gods knew what. If they were going to make this trek on foot, she would have to gear up. She scoured the beach for something, anything really, to help her. She saw a blade on the ground and almost cried tears of joy until she noted the cutlass was rusty. It would do in a pinch, but she would have to either fix that or find another weapon. She also saw a bottle of rum. She picked it up before any of the greedy others got their mitts on it. She poured a fair amount on the wound, feeling the sting of alcohol hitting the broken flesh. It would do for now. She then took a hearty swig before offering the bottle up. Drink up! Who knows when we will get another chance." It was probably stupid of her to drink rum over water, but if she got drunk enough perhaps she wouldn't notice she died of dehydration.

She gazed at the jungle. "I say we go through the jungle. Grab any weapons we have. You never know what lurks there." She raised her cutlass, letting it glint off the sun. She assumed the others could handle themselves, but one never knew with men.

[User]
Kjetil Svendsen

Kjetil was relieved to find that he was not alone on this beach and there were survivors. Only giving a simple nod to Holfort as he followed Holfort to the others. Where they found the Captain and some others. Are these all that survived? Kjetil thought and listened to what the Captain said.

So, either go into the jungle or stick to the coast. One was unknown, and the other also unknown, but in the hot sun and walking on the burning sand. He would rather take his chances with the jungle, but before then, he thought to try and find a weapon of some kind. He simply sighed. What he would give to have his axe and shield again. He would feel alot better with something he could defend himself with.

So without saying a word, the Norgardian departed the group and went to search for a weapon of some kind. After searching the bench, he did find something that brought him a warm smile. An axe, by the look of it, and it was embedded in a piece of the broken hull of the ship. Kjetil walked over and firmly grabbed it with both hands and pulled. After two attempts, he managed to free it from the hull. Then examining it to make sure it was up to par, and once he was satisfied. Kjetil started to make his way back to the group.

But, as he was starting to walk back, he noticed two water flasks. Realizing that they need some fresh water and who knows where the nearest river or lake or spring is. So Kjetil walked over, picked the two up, and tested if they had anything in them. Testing by taking a
small sip of them. The first one, to his joy, was fresh water, and as he went for the second. He quickly spat it out, "saltwater," he cursed. So he put the freshwater flask away on his person and emptied the saltwater one, even though it was filled with saltwater. If they can find a source of freshwater, then he can refill it and have two water flasks to share with the group.

After that, Kjetil returned to the group and held out the freshwater flask. "I found some water and try not to drink it all right now." Him patiently waiting to for someone to take it and spoke again. "I say we take our chances in the jungle. Sure we may find more stuff on the coast, but staying in the sun and walking the hot sand. That is not something we should not do in our state."

Now to see how the others feel about that, he is just happy to be armed again and with a weapon he is familiar with. Time to see where they will go, and they had to choose soon. For Kjetil does not want to be around when the wildlife shows up to eat what is left of the crew, and he knows full well how to defend himself. Hopefully, the others can do or at least be useful somehow.

[Assistant]
Aldrich listened as the other spoke, offering up their suggestions. Their options were limited to the burning hot beach, or the sweaty humid jungle. Neither prospect held much appeal, but Aldrich was no stranger to harsh conditions. From the moment of waking to now, his sense of awareness had sharpened into focus. The deeply ingrained habits formed from a life of servitude and subjugation were thankfully not lost on him now. It was a bitter kind of gratitude, but one he was in position to balk at. Seeing now that the Captain was alive and - relative to the numerous dead - well, Aldrich began to scan the beach for anything at all he might use. His eyes settled on a snapped and splintered boarding pike. It was roughly about a foot shorter than himself, but upon picking the thing up he felt satisfied enough with its weight, and reassured by the solidity of it in his hands.
As he had stooped down to retrieve it, he noticed a fluttering in the breeze. Walking over to inspect, he found a rough piece of torn parchment, miraculously pinned beneath some detritus from the boat. He gently pried it out and looked it over. It appeared to be a map, though Aldrich could make neither heads or tails of it, a sad holdover of his stunted education. He scowled at the enigmatic document, but kept it all the same. Someone else was bound to be able to decipher it's secrets.

Turning back to the group, now all similarly armed, he offered his own findings.
"Not much to be had here, but I found this. Seems to be a map," he added somewhat sheepishly, "I don't know how to read it." He held it out for someone to take, as he gratefully accepted the water flask from Kjetil. Aldrich was well accustomed to rationing, and would not succumb to the temptation of slaking his thirst, despite how dry his mouth currently was.
"It seems as though the jungle is the popular option," Aldrich reasoned to them, "At the very least we should find some welcome shade, but perhaps we should try not to go too deep. If we can keep the coast in sight, or at least in earshot we may stand a better chance of finding our way."
Though, as he spoke his eyes landed on the peculiar carving at the mouth of the jungle. It's likeness' teeth bared in a ghastly snarl, as if to ward away any would-be interlopers.
Despite the stifling heat of the sun, Aldrich felt a chill descend his spine.


[System]
Alias: None, as of yet.
Species: Kryptonian

Power/Ability Set: Fuelled by the yellow sun of the Solar System, Clark's power set is something not even fully known to himself. Incredible strength, durability, flight, eye lasers and senses many times more capable than a human's are but the most obvious representations of this. As he has grown older and gained greater control of his ability to harness the power of the sun, his capabilities, and the extremity of them, has only increased.

Personality:
Clark is a good man, and that has defined him for as long as anyone can remember, that and a determined desire to stay out of trouble, don't draw attention. A Kansas boy with the powers of a god, the Kents raised their adoptive son to treat anyone with respect, and he finds the crass rudeness that has lately defined American politics and society to be utterly at odds with the America he knows from his hometown. These two sides of Clark, the man who wants to do good, and the man who wants to stay low, cannot always co-exist, increasingly they are challenged, and soon he must pick one.

Biography:
Kal'el may hail from Krypton, light years from Earth, but Clark Kent was born and raised in Smallville, Kansas. A farm boy in nurture if not blood, Clark knew more animals then people practically until High School. He never seemed to excel at school, although several teachers, the ones who actually noticed such things and weren't just in it for an easy pass shouting at kids, reported a profound sense that the boy, then young man, was holding himself back, not living up to his potential. Clark didn't exactly make any friends either, sure very few people disliked him, most hardly knew him. He passed through school about as much as a ghost as one could. He turned down offers to join various sports teams, despite his prototypical build, and clear physical health. Once he had his diploma, he was out of Smallville.

Clark didn't apply for any universities, he went straight to the East Coast. He walked into three separate Ivy League universities. Professors and Heads of departments laughed at the country boy breezing in an expecting to be heard. They laughed less when in five minutes he solved problems they had entire teams working on. Entire teams of PhD researchers. Kent also walked into the big sports schools, came as a walk on, for Football teams across the coast. He almost drowned in the number of welcome packs he was sent after footage of this freak athlete began circulating around the coaches. In the end, the attention made him panic, and so he looked for something faceless, the kind of person who's never noticed, not really, but always there, watching. The Daily Planet just happened to be the first port of call, and Clark, impressive in his interview, was offered an unpaid internship, on account of his low grades. Two years later and Clark is a full time reporter, the only one on staff without any form of degree or other qualification.

The young man turned reporter has covered the election exhaustively, and with such enthusiasm as to 'almost' overshadow the darling of Metropolis journalism, Lois Lane. Nobody talks about second best journalists though, just like Clark wants it.

[User]
With the entirety of Downtown Gotham tearing itself apart and the city looking to be torn apart by the chaos, fire and the gas attack - one might say a hero was needed.

That was what Alicia Snow aka the superhero know as Ice did. On one part, she also used to live near the Downtown Gotham area - as well as that the fire could likely spread further. As such, with the threat of gas in the air - Ice improvised at that, one thing she was good at that. Using a slightly modified paint-mask to prevent from breathing in the toxic gas at that.

She flew through the air into the Downtown area at that, using her ice powers to suffocate the fires raging around the area. It wasn't much, but since it was chaos down in the streets - and the fire department likely at worst, days away, it was her task of getting the fires down before they spread and started engulfing the people inside them in flames. She used her powers to boost herself from roof to roof - coating the fire raging inside them with a sheet of ice, suffocating the flames and much more at that.

Being dressed in her usual uniform, namely a blue leotard that allowed her maximum skin. Which was the way how her powers operated, in someway that she was still trying to understand how. As the chaos in the streets were getting worse, she took the chance and jumped down - encoating her entire body in a large body of ice. Upon landing on the ground as an ice golem, she quickly started freezing the large gangs and those, whom were causing the most destruction. A little chill here and there, but it wasn't anything harmful at that, just enough to stop then until the police got the area under control.

It was a good thing that ice was both tough, and insulating - since the chaos on the streets was, for a lack of a better word - a chaos.

[Assistant]
Mari McCabe was in Metropolis for the last few days doing a photo shoot. Her agents had told her that a charity show was being held in Gotham and that she needed to be there by the end of the week. She had been working on a line of new clothing inspired by the Tantu Totem and the powers that came with it. Because of these powers Mari had dawned the mantle of Vixen and began to fight crime where ever she was, robbery, gangs, and killing sprees, she had even fought Cheetah on an occasion or two and won.

Her plane had landed in Gotham hours ago and now she was at he venue for the charity trying her best to get rich politicians and dignitary's to donate their money, this money would go to helping orphaned African children. While she was talking to some Senator, an explosion blew the front doors off the building ,sending many people back and wounding a few, the lights went out and all you could see where the fires from out side rage on as you heard all the rich folk and scream and guns, fighting, and violence from out side. Pople ran out side, but Mari went to her black bag that carried her black and orange costume. After putting it on she exited the hall and went out onto the street of downtown Gotham. It was madness, people are running fires where burning and crazies where out.

Vixen began to help local authorities, deal with the gangs she found squads of cops being bullied by some small groups of gun wielding thugs in back allies. She channeled the cheetah and swiftly took care of the thugs with lighting speed. When she channeled an animal she not only took on its physical traits but she became that being and had learned with control she could use this to her advantage. She could use the instincts, and precision that a cheetah had as she took down her foes with ease and moved onto the next group. As she did this she noticed the fires beginning to die down and soon go out and a ice golem fell fro the sky and landed in front of the larger gangs.

Vixen saw it was freezing them and did not attack it instead she moved to help, by disarming the gangs. Fighting who ever the golem missed and knocking them out. Using her speed she jumped in front of it and waved casually. "Hi Iceman thing. I don't know who you are but maybe we should work together to help this situation?" She said to it as chaos raged on.

[User]
His name was Barry Allen, the fastest man alive, and... he was late for his flight. Barry had been in Gotham the past few days helping the Gotham Police Department on a connecting case. Now he was stuck in traffic taking a cab ride to the airport. Barry was always the type to be late to things before he got his powers and decided to keep on doing so once he did. The guy who's always late couldn't possible be the fastest man alive. He was almost tempted to just get out and run there. If he was too late he'd have to stay in Gotham another night. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but he was ready to get home.

His thoughts of getting home was then interrupted by the buzzing of his phone in his pocket. He took it out and checked to see that he had gotten a missed call and a text message. Was he that out of it that he didn't notice the phone call? The text was asking him if he was at the airport and if he was okay because of all the chaos. Barry looked outside the window and noticed the smoke rising in the city. He asked the cab driver to turn on the radio so they could find out what was going on.

The news station talked about a terrorist attack in Gotham and suggested that everyone stay inside so they could be safe. They also announced the grounding of all flights. Not that Barry was planning to go home anymore anyway. He couldn't leave Gotham like this. Up until now he decided to not even hero up while in the city. It wasn't his place to do so. Not unless there was something going on around him.

"Stop the car." Barry said as he started unbuckling his seatbelt.

"Traffic isn't even moving." The driver replied confused as to why he'd even want to stop the car anyway.

"Right. Right." Barry looked at the meter and took the fare out of his wallet. He even gave the driver a little extra. He then got out of the car and waited for the driver to pop open the trunk so he could get his suitcase. Once he did Barry was out of there. He ran normal speed to an alleyway and hid his suitcase before pulling out a ring. He put the ring on and touched the top causing it to spring open and release an expanding suit. Barry used his super speed to put the costume on and became the Flash.

As soon as the suit was on he was out of the alley and speeding through the city. Whenever he came across a group of criminals he knocked them out them out and left them for the police. He got civilians to safety whenever he came across them and he even put out a few fires. He was feeling back in his element. He missed this and just hoped any of the resident heroes wouldn't mind him helping out.

As he went through downtown he could feel a change in temperature from the rest of the affected areas. He turned a corner and noticed what looked to be an ice golem and someone else in a costume. He was expecting more to see the infamous Batman but the night wasn't over yet. He ran up to the duo and said, "I'm the Flash. Need any help?"

[Assistant]
Kindred@Queentze@Ezekiel

Ice breathed heavily after the gangs were dealt with and was surprised - when another woman came to help her out at that. And judging by her appearance and attire, it was likely she was another superhero at that. "OH? Uhm, sure. Of course," replied Ice from inside the golem at that. Despite the rebreather she still sounded female at that for Vixen to understand.

Then they got another one at that. Namely that being the Flash - the so-called fastest thing alive on Earth. Well, two superheroes in one day, either things were getting better or the situation was just that bad.

"Oh. Uhm," muttered Ice, not sure on how to use their powers for that. She only knew how to throw around Ice and not lead people. "We got gangs roaming around this place. Also we got fires in the place. We need to get both under control, in the case it might spread further."

"I can handle the fires. We would need somebody to handle the gangs. And thirdly to get the cops here," she spoke, thinking logically in this case. "Some police officers should be around the vicinity - or likely overwhelmed. They are likely the best bet to help keep the citizens safe. Somebody has to go either rally or rescue them, so we have somesort of push against the criminal element running wild here."

[User]
"And this will work? I've tried countless combinations, it never quite seems to stick with those of a...higher constitution." The emaiciated figure of Doctor Crane sat hunched over his work station, deep in the Gotham underbelly, once a respected figure on the science of the mind, he had, without a doubt, broken his own. The pursuit of his goals had become absolute, and this presented a bound towards the perfection he yearned for.

"Quite certain, the toxin added to the serum should overpower all but a few notable exceptions, but, this is only to be released when instructed." In contrast to the hunched figure of the doctor, the man that stepped out of the shadows was the model of sophistication, a fine tailored suit and dark rimmed glasses of expensive taste. This was the sort of money that required anonymity, not fame.

"Of course, of course." The Scarecrow responded, a little too quickly, he grated under the impression of control, but it would be worth it, to have continued access to the hidden substance that amplified his already potent work. "You may thank the Presiden-Elect for his generous investment." He turned to look at the man standing aside from him, a crooked grin spread across his features. The other man only frowned.

"You will not repeat that, under any circumstances, or there will be a price to pay."

Now

The small gathering of heroes, three together at once, seemed to herald the next stage of the chaos that was Gotham City, something equally felt by the mystical mind of one John Constantine. A wave of darkness seemed to pass through the city, unnoticed by those not attuned to the ways of magic, a curse, screamed with uncomparable fear.

In the next moment, however, the consequence was more than visible to all. The riots that had swept the city descended further into a violent orgy of paranoid attacks. Roving gangs that had united against the monsters they all saw in the shadows, suddenly turned on each other, seeing the same darkness in their hasty allies. Those police units deploy to maintain order and contain the panic when they could not, found their equipment no defence against whatever new threat attacked them. Soon, the spattering of gunfire in the night air became a blaze, as the National Guard turned on itself.

Gradually, in the minds of those capable of perceiving such things, John Constantine among them, the pulse of this new attack brought with it the feverish whispering of words, a sobbing cry, echoing across the pulse of power;

Azarath Metrion Zinthos


[System]
Abstract: The quiet, roof-hopping delivery girl.

Detail:
Meryn is a twig of a girl. Short, thin, and physically unimpressive in almost every way, people can often mistake her for a young boy, rather than a full-grown woman. She has sandy brown skin, long, straight black hair that she often keeps in a braid, and pale green eyes. Meryn also wears a small wooden pin with her name engraved on it, stuck to her jacket.

She was born without the ability to speak, but she rarely has any trouble getting her point across. Though she carries herself with a subtle confidence, she's acutely aware of what she is and isn't capable of, and is constantly trying to push that boundary. Independent, fearless, and just a little bit spiteful, telling her she can't or shouldn't do something is usually the quickest way to get her to do it. Although she seems aloof and closed off, Meryn is more soft-hearted than she first appears. If someone comes to her asking for help, she can't help but comply – even if she does roll her eyes and drag her feet along the way. It's easy for her heart to override her head, and her naivety can sometimes get her into trouble.

Though she grew up as a street urchin, and was generally looked down on by the majority of society in the first few years of her life, it wasn't long until she discovered a hidden talent: if she wanted to get somewhere, there was very little that could stand in her way. She could scale walls, leap from rooftop to rooftop, slip between bars. Soon enough, the entire town became one big playground to her. Eventually, the townspeople recognized her skill at getting from one point to another quicker than anyone should rightly be able to, and she began delivering notes and parcels for change. Today, Meryn is the most trusted delivery system in town for all sorts of letters and goods (that aren't too big for her to carry). When she's not swinging around the town like a monkey, she enjoys all sorts of music, and has recently started picking up different instruments from her customers and experimenting, with varying degrees of success.

[User]
Chaos.

She was surrounded by noise and light and screaming, terror that dug up old memories and made her want to find a tree to cry in. Feela ran down the stone covered path between the boulder-tents in a frantic haze, animal skin shoes slapping against the hard rock as she searched for her prey through the film of terror that obscured her surroundings.

The Dark-folk. That's what her teacher had called them. She had heard the ones calling themselves Traveler talk about Demon, and they seemed to be the same. She was supposed to kill the Dark-folk wherever she found them, they were dangerous and terrible. Her teacher had also told her to stay away from the Rock-tribes and their strange, square villages, but she had never told her which rule was more important, so here she was, surrounded by boulder-tents and cold-shiny-rock, and she hadn't even managed to find her prey. She should have left it alone, let the Rock-tribe deal with the wooden Night-folk, but what if they couldn't?

so what? a tiny voice said in her mind. Not in words, since she had lost her words long ago, but in feelings. let them die. Where were Rock-people when mother died, sobbing?

Feela came to a stop and shook her head violently, the bone shards on her necklace jangling loudly, it must have come untucked while she ran. She squashed that tiny, furious voice in her head and looked around again, trying to pick up some kind of trail.

[Assistant]
The spiral staircase seemed to spin rapidly around her while the clouded daylight shrank far above. The floor rushed up at her, and she might glimpse the lines of a sigil etched into the stone before a gust of wind surged and spun out of the darkness below, twisting around her with enormous power. The wind slowed her fall, turned her upright, and set her feet down carefully in the middle of the sigil before it dissipated. She would feel a little lightheaded, drained of energy. The sigil had been powered by her own will to live, after all.

"Who's there?" An old man was standing between Meryn and the only open door, a book clutched in his bony hands, wielded like a bludgeon. He was a thin, crochety looking fellow, with a hunch in his back, a bald head and comically furry eyebrows. He wore a threadbare housecoat over his faded pajamas, and his slippers had been worn to the heel.

The room at the bottom of the bell tower was round and clean and filled with shelves of books. There were ancient tomes and new paperbacks, pamphlets and maps and binders full of drawings. Though all of it was in an array of sizes and materials and degrees of wear, no library could have been more excellently maintained.

The old man's sharp eyes studied Meryn a moment before they went wide -- and he scowled with a deep jowly frown. "What you doin' with Spook's mask?" After another moment his eyes widened one more time in realization. "Don't you tell me he's kicked off." He lowered the book slowly, confusion and regret lining his old face.

Through the eyes of the mask, the old man's dreams were like the old scuffed books on the shelf: gray and deep blue, etched with old tired frustration and a long, eventful life.

---

Switch stood with her weight on one leg, hands in her cloak pockets. "Okay," she said with a nonchalant shrug, grinning. "You're you, man, you be you, do whatever you want. The city's crumbling to the ground and everyone in it is about to die if they're not dead already. The food's poisoned, the water's poisoned, there's no one to call for help because the city's self-sustaining -- but hey, you're a big boy, you can make your way on your own. Just think, now you won't have to pay those thugs back."

With the same grin, she leaned back against the wall, keeping herself between Ronken and the only exit. She placed a cigarette between her lips, and -- after the click and bright cupped glow of a lighter -- exhaled a slow smoky breath.

"Listen. Ronken, right?" She tilted her head at him. "You're infected. I hate to break it to you, but eventually you're gonna look like me, so get used to it now. I gave you a pendant." She gestured at a string necklace that hung around his throat, threaded with a round reddish stone with a rune carved into it. "It's slowing down the spread of the Crystalline. Don't take it off. Again," she took another puff of the cigarette, "you're welcome." A small smile crossed her thin face. "There's stuff that people like us are pretty good at. You can say we walk the edge between dreams and reality. I brought you back 'cause I think you're capable of a lot more than you like to let on."

She took out the box of cigarettes and held it out to him, grinning.

---

A burst of hot steam hissed out of a broken pipe and billowed into the darkened road. A rat darted into an alley where a woman's corpse was sprawled. Vacant windows gaped lifelessly. A robot sat broken on the street corner, creaking as it raised and lowered its arm brokenly. At the other end of the street, a house burned; black smoke blanketed the sun.

There were traces of demon-soot everywhere -- Feela's quarry had certainly died here, but the corpses had gone.

Footsteps rushed down the adjoining street ahead. A small boy with black hair, a wool jacket and a gas-mask ran full-tilt into the crossroads, where he skidded and turned around, breathing heavily. He spotted Feela and stopped, stunned by her strange appearance.

"What are you doing?" he called urgently, his voice muffled by the mask. He beckoned to her with a hand. "Come on! We have to get to the shelter! You'll miss out on the rations! Have you seen anyone else?"

[User]
Feela backed away from the steam, remembering that it could burn her. Why these strange people kept the steam from their cooking pots in tubes baffled her, but wasn't worth figuring out. The smell of fresh death and burned Dark-folk filled the air here, and she found herself feeling foolish for having charged into this place for nothing. Just as she was about to turn back, a boy with a frightening black mask ran up to her and started making sounds at her. For a moment, Feela couldn't make sense of the noises, but before long an old part of her mind, long unused, started waking up again. Still, there were words she couldn't puzzle out in the things the boy said.

"Raas-or?" She said, trying to force the words out of her long unused voice. Frustrated by her failure, she screwed up her face and tried again. "Whaaaat es ah raaas-un?" The words came slowly to her memory, and didn't sound quite right, but she thought she had gotten close. Using words again felt strange, like the first time she had used her folk-weapons. Realizing the boy was still waving his hand at her, Feela followed uncertainly. She was lost and confused and more than a little scared. Dark-folk she could fight, but this place and it's baffling features were something else entirely.

[Assistant]
Meryn swayed on her feet, disoriented. And tired. But then was that really a surprise after the day she'd had? She'd barely had time to glance around the tower's interior though, when a voice cracked through the air. Heart in her throat, Meryn spun to see an unimpressed, unimpressive old man holding a book like he meant to club her with it. But then he saw her mask.

Spook.

He knew Spook. He had answers. He'd know what to do.

A flash of movement above caught her eye though and Meryn looked up to see the dreams of the three runners getting closer. Right. She was being chased. People were shooting at her. She'd just lead someone to his death after losing her friends and Spook and bringing a fatal disease to a town and now people were actively trying to kill her, she didn't have time to explain to him, to tell him how dangerous the situation was –

But… but maybe she could. Meryn ripped off the mask.

Standing before him was a girl with wide, pale eyes. There were speckles of dried blood on her face, though it was impossible to tell if it was hers or not. Her hair was a long black mess, an unraveling braid only held together by knots and tangles. Her bare clothes – a frayed undershirt with a thick dark stain near her waist where it stuck to her skin, and a pair of pants with one leg ripped off below the knee – hung on her stunted frame after a childhood of too little to eat. She was a mess of dirt, sweat, and blood, her urgency electrifying the air with every frantic breath she took.

Meryn darted forward, mask in hand. She thrust it up to the man's face, nearly hitting his nose, the eye holes as accurate as she could get them. He'd see her dreams. She hoped. Would he know what they meant? Would he know she was terrified?

Every muscle was tense as she held the mask in a quivering hand, heavy breaths pushing her chest up and down. She could only stare at the old man through the eyes of the mask as her teeth bit into her lower lip and her eyebrows pulled together.

There was thump on the roof of the bell tower. It was followed by two more. Meryn jumped back, glancing up. She was out of time. She could barely hear over the thundering in her ears as she dove for the closest hiding spot she could find: the shadowed corner directly under the spiraling staircase. She gripped Oliver's bell when it chimed with her movement. Meryn pressed herself into a tiny ball, tired muscles aching for rest. There was a pounding in her head. She couldn't keep this pace. She couldn't keep going like this.

A runner hit the first step on the stairs.

Meryn pressed her eyes shut, clenching her jaw. She'd get through this. She had to get through this. Her hands were balled so tightly that they shook with the strain.

The second runner entered.

She pulled Spook's mask back over her face and opened her eyes again. She forced out a silent, quivering breath. Her eyes were trained on her old boot, like she was afraid to face whatever was coming for her.

The third.

Meryn finally looked up to see… the delivery guy? She blinked.

There was no doubt: those were his dreams she could see through the wall. But they looked… ok? Certainly less lifeless than they'd been when he'd fallen. Heck, they looked even better than they'd been before that. And from their position they even looked like he was standing rather than laying flat, leaking on the ground.

The runners' quick steps reverberated down the staircase to Meryn's hiding spot.

The crumpled letter that had been in her bag lay where it'd fallen on the ground at the foot of the stairs, unnoticed.


[System]
...his friends call him Turk.

Age: 46

Race: Urloj, A race of reptilian humanoids.

Appearance: He stands at about six feet, with a spindly thin frame and long arms. His face structure looks like that of an amphibious dinosaur. He has large, shiny, yellow reptilian eyes and small slit nostrils and a head that extends forward. Other than that, he is a bipedal upright standing humanoid. His skin is composed of red and orange scales that aren't very slimy at all, but upon contact with water his scales stay wet for a long time. Such is life for a cold-blooded species. His hands have webbed, clawed fingers that are very dexterous, and from his mouth a long, snake-like tongue can curl forth.

Personality: Turk is an experienced Urloj, and with his experiences comes a sort of wisdom. He may not be smart or educated, but has a lot of something called common sense. He's not very literate, and he doesn't know a lot about your fancy pants magic, but he can start a fire, tie a knot and sail a ship just fine, if you ask him. He's not at all ambitious, instead choosing to enjoy the simple things in life. That being said, he's very patriotic, and has is very keen on representing his country in this new land. He's rough around the edges but isn't mean-spirited.

Abilities:

Turk, as an Urloj, is naturally and extremely talented at swimming.

Turk is a carnivore, diet consisting of raw fish and insects as his diet.

He's cold blooded, which means he does need to occasionally stop and rest in the sun.

He's a trained veteran sailor of the Urlojian Royal Navy.

Another trait of the Urloj is being able to hold their breath for a very, very long time.

Salvaged Item: A small dagger, perfect for cutting ropes and knots on a ship.

History: Turk grew up in a small fishing town outside the Capitol of Urlojgoka. He led a very rural existence, and really was a perfect patriot of his country which he had grown to love and respect. To protect his homeland from any and all threats, he joined the Royal Urlojian Navy, the finest Navy in the world. He protected the coast for a long while, and would have climbed high up the ranks had he accepted the promotions. No, Turk said he wasn't fit to lead, even though every crew respected him onboard the ships he sailed. He much preferred to raise the sails himself. When the call went out for a crew to sail to the new world, Turk was more than willing to step on board The Arrowhead.

Nation of Origin: Urlojgoka

Nation Lore: Urlojgoka is a nation comprised mostly of archipelago, to the north-east of the rest of the continent. It is one of the smallest nations, with only a few million people inhabiting the warm waters. Thousands and thousands of years ago, they were but a collection of warring tribes battling each other with long canoes, jumping into the water to do battle under the waves. They have since been united, but there is still remnants of these long lost days in the culture of modern Urlojgoka; for a popular sport revolves around two teams in canoes attempting to capsize the other.

A great admiral and warlord known as Uurgu (a name which has found derivatives of itself in many families last name, such as Turk's) united the islands and founded Urlojgoka. From there they expanded, eventually taking claim to the rest of the other islands. It was not as easy, for the native species of the island were savage evolutionary off spring from the Urloj. The Urloj became victorious over their counterparts a decade later, as a result they developed powerful naval ships to assist them in their conquests.

Since then, they have stayed mostly to their own business, defending their territory with one of the largest navies in the world. During times of war, several nations attempted to take the resource-rich islands for themselves, but all failed in the end. Only one invasion managed to get to the Capitol city, and in an event that is still sung about today, twenty thousand Urlojian militia men and guards swam to the water and overran the enemy ships by climbing up the hulls and killing the crew on board.

During times of peace, they spend most of their time exporting valuable sea-goods like pearls and exotic foods that most other nations don't have regular access too. It's quite a sight to see all of a civilian ship's crew leap overboard to look for underwater natural treasures.

Other: He has a strange, rough but bubbly accent.

[User]
Distracted from her frustrations, momentarily, by the appearance of the eastern fox woman, the smallish high elven girl turned to face her fully. The taller girl was dripping wet, soaked just as she had been moments ago. After a few moments of silence, Irial sighed, narrowing her eyes slightly as she did.

"What do I look like, a towel?" she asked, irritation in her voice. Irial wasn't exactly keen on being seen as some sort of utility that anyone could walk up to and use any time they wanted. And yet, well, the Dry spell was a simple one. Any race with magical potential had devised it at some point, and therefore Irial had never become accustomed to casting a more generically named version. No, it had remained in the old tongue, as translation had never been required.

"Ephix Tann," she commanded, flatly, as the orb of blue-grey light formed in the palm of her hand once more. Just as it has done for herself, the twisting light drew the water off of the kitsune, drying her entirely. Just as before, Irial tossed the orb away, not even looking where it landed. It was just water, after all. It's not like anything out in the open could get more wet. The problem with the spell was the difficulty in targeting. 'Maer'(self) and 'Tann'(other). Desginating a specific target rather then 'person closest to the caster' was pretty much impossible. Oh well.

"Don't go expecting that sort of treatment if you get yourself soaked again," Irial added, waving her staff as she did in an illustrative fashion. "I'm not here for the sake of stupid mistakes."

She glanced at the boat. Good, it looked like strong people were going there. Irial herself was, well, particularly useless when it came to physical feats. She could, however, use magic to assist in locating items. Lifting and moving them herself? Not only was it nearly impossible for her to do so with anything heavy, but she hated doing it as well.

"... You do... whatever. I'm going to the boat."

[Assistant]
The group of survivors had apparently decided to split itself between two groups--well, three, if they counted that Turk guy diving back into the ocean for some food--which didn't much worry Masaru, in all honesty. At times like these, too many people working on a task was bound for disaster. How did that saying go again? "Too many chefs ruin the pot" or something? Bah, it wasn't as if he was one for proverbs, anyhow.

So... That garuda, the antman, the hunter, and that grumpy little elf had decided to tag along with him to the shipwreck, while everyone that wasn't Turk (or, well, that kitsune girl) had gone off to salvage supplies from the wilds near the beach. He could live with that; after all, it wasn't as if checking that ruined hull out would be an easy job.

"We should probably meet back here once we're all done with whatever it is we're doing. If anyone finds a good place to set up base, bring us there after we return. Won't get us all unless we're all here, right?"

Without asking for any further comments as he walked along, Masaru found it a shorter walk than he had anticipated to get to the ruins of The Arrowhead that had been brought to shore. Well... At least it had washed ashore and not been stuck at the bottom of the sea, right? That hunter had been gathering driftwood from the area soon after waking up (which Masaru found to be kind of a weird thing to do instead of checking for a functional body), so at the very least it was safe to assume that the storm that had tossed everyone off had taken place... Well, close enough to shore.

Damn, that sucked. So close, too.

Standing in front of the wooden vessel now, Masaru noticed that there was a gaping hole in the side of it that was large enough to fit a few people through at once. While convenient, the oni could only imagine how bad the damage was inside.

"Hold on; let me check things out first," he said, holding up a hand before stepping into the shipwreck. Light was filtering into the ship now, thanks to the sun's position and the multitude of holes in the ship. Well... At least it meant that nobody would be stepping on anything nasty any time soon.

"Alright, we're good. Check the place out; we've got a long ways to go."

Upon closer inspection, the place was a freaking MESS. Boxes holding supplies of all sorts were splayed out, the supplies within now tossed all over the ground or missing altogether. As much as this sort of development was to be expected, the fact that it was all still gone now was... Painful.

"Careful, though; broken glass all over the place. I think this was where they were keeping some of the more delicate stuff, so I think there might be a chance that something was kept safe enough for the ride," Masaru sighed, holding a now-shattered bottleneck that somehow managed to still give off the smell of liquor. "...Sadly can't say much about this, though."

Shaking his head, Masaru carefully placed the material to the side before continuing to (slowly) sift through the debris. Alcohol, though...

Maybe they had also kept the food here too? That would be REALLY helpful. But... Well, hopefully it didn't get the taste of the sea soaked into it or get eaten or something else by now. That would seriously... Not be good.

[User]
Yukine looked down and frowned when Irial snapped at her about not being a towel. The kitsune hadn't expected her crew mates to be in the best mood, but this was the second time in a matter of minutes that someone was being rude to her. Hopefully this was just a product of everybody being in a bad mood and not a sign of things to come. However, Yukine's eyes lit up when the elf actually decided to be a pal and dry her off. "Yay!" She exclaimed once the water was removed and tossed away. She giggled and did a little twirl. "Thank you! It feels so much better now." She gave Irial a solemn nod when the elf warned her that this was basically a one-time deal, and then she said, "Okay, I'll be careful. I won't waste your generosity." She gave the elf a small bow and then grinned. "And I promise I'll return the favor as soon as I get the chance. We'll probably be spending a lot of time together so I hope we can become good friends."

Yukine was about to offer the elf her hand, but then Irial reminded her what she had wanted to do in the first place. "Oh right! The boat!" With that, she happily skipped through the sand, joining the salvage party and ignoring the soreness in her limbs. Things looked pretty bad, but the one thing she couldn't complain about was the fact that this was already shaping up to be an exciting adventure. Masaru was the first person to enter the wreckage, and then gave the okay to follow him into the ship.

Yukine placed her feet carefully. She had lost her sandals on the boat, and was now walking around barefoot; while her training had given her somewhat calloused feet, a shard of glass was the last thing she wanted to step on. She cautiously sifted through the wreckage, her frown growing ever deeper as she saw all the soaked and ruined supplies. The gravity of the situation suddenly began to sink in on the kitsune. They had no tools, no materials, no food... Screw building anything, they would be lucky if they found what they needed to survive. Just as she was about to abandon hope on finding anything useful, though, she saw a glint of metal.

Yukine pushed several boxes out of the way and started shoving some rubble aside. Then, she let out a sudden shriek. "Ewwww!" She looked around at the rest of the salvaging crew, and gave a nervous laugh, realizing she might have alarmed them. "Hehe... no worries. Just touched a slime ball." She used a broken board to scrape away the sea slime, and then huffed as she moved a heavy beam out of the way. There was her prize. Miraculously in tact, a small scythe that she brought along as part of the farming equipment. "Hmm, it would have been better if it was a hoe, but it'll be useful... if we can grow anything. Hey guys, I think some farming stuff might have been around here. Did any of the seeds make it?" She pulled her scythe out of the rubble and hopped down off of the pile of garbage to see if anyone needed help moving anything.

[Assistant]
Turk's feet no longer touched the underwater sand and were in free float. The familiar sounds of water all around him would be comforting, but these waters were unfamiliar. It'd be a long time before he would feel competent in the new oceans. A transparent eyelid slid over his eyes when he entered the water- a neat trick that had proved useful to his people for countless generations.

The water was chilly, to say the least. He pushed himself deeper. Pieces of wooden debris would occasionally float past, as well as stray furnishings. A busted barrel rolled along the sand towards the deep ocean, where it vanished into the distant blue fog. There were a few crustaceans crawling about digging at things. Small fish fluttered forth in little schools, darting to and fro. They were thin and green, and far too tiny of a morsel to eat, and even too tiny to grab easily.

The fish darted away, and Turk saw the cause. A bigger fish, around the same size as a trout, came into view. Turk was floating underwater, almost completely still, to avoid startling the his prey. The trout fish came a little closer, and Turk kicked off of the sand mound and leaped after the trout. It avoided his grasp and swam away. Boo.

Turk broke the surface of the water with his head, and glanced around. The endless ocean curved at the horizon in front of him, and when he turned around he saw a few of his companions picking through the wreckage. He was a little farther away from them now. Unsheathing his dagger from his holster, he took another breath and dove under the waves.