[System]
Nickname: The Hundredth Dan Black Belt, Master Monk
Age: Unknown, appears rather past middle age
Gender: Male
Originates From: Final Fantasy 1
Appearance:
An older version of the original Black Belt/Monk from Final Fantasy, clad in a well-worn martial arts uniform with monastic influences (inspired by the real life Shorinji Kempo keikogi) and walking around in wooden sandals. Standing at six feet tall and with a wiry but obviously athletic frame, though he has wrinkled and his hair is now fully grey and has thinned out somewhat he seems otherwise physically unaffected by aging.

Personality:
Isei goes through life seemingly perpetually relaxed and in high spirits, though he is also fearless, adventurous and drawn to heroic pursuits. He is tremendously confident in his martial skills and prone to unsolicited criticism of others in this regard, but given his level it's relatively justified. Despite this, his criticism isn't necessarily intended mockery and is often aimed at helping others improve, and he can both appreciate the abilities of others and acknowledge when he's matched or bested.

Items They Are Carrying:
-Keikogi: Isei's uniform has some magical capabilities. It is as tough as he is, which is quite significant, and conveys him the protection against elemental sorceries, status effects and especially devious instant death powers afforded by the Protect Ring and the Ribbon. Its effects that cannot be dispelled and the robes cannot be removed unless Isei wills it.

Abilities:
-Legendary kenpo master: A near peerless martial artist, Isei is capable of relying on nothing but his body to face down the most fearsome foes and match the famed Warrior of Light blow for blow despite the latter wielding several powerful artifacts. Though his physical gifts and feats are quite impressive, and he can employ abilities such as qinggong as well as any master, he lacks any grasp on spellcasting and makes little use of external release of his inner energy (chi, ki, qi, chakra, etc), preferring to let his body express his mastery and allow the fighting skills that can be taught to most any human to shine.

Kaminari Kick: Using a burst of inner energy, Isei launches himself into an explosively fast flying kick capable of carving a swathe through lesser enemies, as long as they stay in formation to be hit by it. Even being around the area Isei flies past can lead to being damaged by the attack's pressure.

Mantra: Drawing upon his inner energy, typically but not necessarily by uttering a focusing mantra, Isei can force his body to regenerate itself with effects akin to healing magic and cleanse himself of a variety of ailments.

Ikken Hissatsu: Ikken Hissatsu is a concept in karate which means "to kill with one strike", and while it's not meant to be taken literally it is still something to strive towards. By drawing upon his inner energy much like with his mantra, Isei can instead focus it all to deliver a devastating killing blow that doubles the power of his already fearsome strikes. He can twice draw upon himself for an even greater boost, any more and he simply overloads himself.

Mushin Hangeki: Mushin is a state of clear-mindedness where a practitioner of martial arts is left unclouded by unnecessary thoughts and so reacts freely to the situation at hand, reflexively and intuitively employing their highly trained and polished skills in an unimpeeded flow. Hangeki means counterattack. Effectively, the ability to instinctively react and launch appropiate counter blows when assaulted no matter the situation.

As a result of consuming the Oxyale, Isei can also breathe normally even in environments where he should not be able to.

Bio:
Though the prophecy spoke of only four Warriors of Light, destined heroes rarely go about their fate without companions. Isei, then a young, brash and often overmatched martial artist seeking to prove his worth, was one of two such adventurers aiding the quest to restore the Crystals and lift the veil of darkness from the world. Armed with nothing but his body, he would face such foes as the four world-changing Elemental Fiends, an ancient nuclear-powered Warmech and even clashed with the mythical Gilgamesh, emerging victorious (or at least alive) and growing in mind, skill and spirit from each trial.

Though the destruction of the time loop reverted much of the world to how it would have been without the influence of Chaos, and left the Warriors of Light unaware of their own prior adventures, Isei would not be denied his fate. Driven by subconscious memories of another time, he once again strove for martial excellence and once again pushed himself to become a master of legendary renown. There's only one problem, however. Having faced some of the gravest dangers in creation across two lives, Isei has been left with little to inspire or drive him and he would greatly welcome a challenge or at least a new experience.

Fun Facts: Considering the Black Belt/Monk was not an official Warrior of Light in the game's novelization or either of the two groups with the title in 8-bit Theater (still the greatest thing done with FF1), I decided he probably wasn't one after all. Four letter name because NES limitations.

[User]
@clanjos

"Oh...Really?" The lead Koopa said in surprise to Haruki's devil may care attitude. In the back, a small group of Koopas did their best to hide a net they had been intending on tossing over the two odd creatures in front of them. If they were willing to come of their own accord, it would be for the best not to agitate them. The head Koopa quickly cleared his throat.

"I-I mean of course! The king will happy to give you an audience," the Koopa said, more or less talking out of his rear as his group surrounded Haruki and Harvey, looking like a true guard "come, we shall escort you there."

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

Sir Eglamour charged forward past retreating Toads, the crashing battleship impacting the ground with a very audible crash. Some explosions occurred thanks to leftover bob-bombs still inside, the ship breaking apart on impact. Debris were scattered everywhere, crashing atop already wrecked and charred houses. Eglamour's dragon sat, somewhat on fire but functional in that the canons still could fire. And the crew still on board took advantage of that, firing cannonballs every which way they could. They had been instructed to fire on any Toad, knowing they could very well be part of the resistance, and they followed these orders to the tee.

"Hellllllllp!" Cried a voice from a nearby building, more than likely catching the knight's attention. A quick glance over would let him see one of the disheveled houses, but with a pair of Toads that had been a bit slow getting away from the wreckage. One of them was unconscious, buried under the ruble of their own home with a female friend of his trying to unearth him. The going was slow, slow enough for several of the gunners of the ship to emerge. A little over a handful in total, the Koopas withdrew into their shells and the Goombas hopped atop, riding over to the downed pair of Toads. What they intended to do them could not have been good.

Bug

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

@eemmtt

York watched as Roland went through the portal, hesitating for a moment to glance over to Ken. He still looked less than a hundred percent, something York easily took note of. He tapped out the ashes on the end of his cigarette, briefly wondering if Ken should really come with him. Things seemed relatively calm here, and it'd likely be best for him to recover at least from the concussion.

It was a good thing York hesitated on going through the portal too. Otherwise, he wouldn't have seen the incoming AI at all. York quirked his eyebrow as the hulking machinery approached, eyes flicking up and down Mizn briefly. Another non hostile machine by his mind's eye, perhaps even more so when he took into account the Third Law of Robotics. That was assuming he wasn't dealing with a particularly polite rogue.

"Your guess would be as good as mine," York explained to Mizn, shaking his head "though I'm guessing this portal is our best bet for some answers." He turned his attention to Ken briefly, York's usual straight face taking on a bit of concern for the kid.

"Now, if you feel like you can keep up, you can come. But that was a nasty fall you had earlier, so if you don't think you can I'd understand. Now then...If you'll excuse me, I suppose Roland is wondering what's taking me." York finished, turning on his heel and approaching the portal slowly. Roland's words played in his mind, how apparently these things always led to some great evil. If that were the case...Well, he and Zach had dealt with worse. York would persevere. He stepped through the portal, not looking behind him to see if Ken and Ainz followed.

It didn't take York long to at least recognize the odd creatures running around him this time. Video games weren't something York was fully familiar with, but it was hard not to recognize Toads, Goombas, and Koopas. Images of the phrase 'Your Princess is in Another Castle' briefly flashed through his head as to the untrained eye York looked completely numb to the chaos around him. In truth, he merely assessed the situation. He assumed anything or anyone that looked out of place were in the same boat as Roland and him, putting him in league with a large skeleton with an angel doing her best parrot impression on his shoulder, a large orange being who seemed content to pound upon Koopas and Goombas alike, and...Darth Vader.

"Well, at least we have powerful allies Zach. Though perhaps we may not fully be on the side of good this time." York commented dully, noting rather suddenly that Roland wasn't exactly looking very trigger happy at the moment. He could recognize sensory overload when he saw it, and Roland had it written all over his face and body language. He needed direction, and York...Well, he was there. He placed a hand on Roland's shoulder, withdrawing his own pistol from within his dress coat.

"Fire on the turtles and the brown mushrooms." He stated simply before doing just that, his bullets finding Koopa and Goomba alike. They fell down, several Koopas retreating to their shells as they watched their brethren fall around them. This just made it easier for Jasper to knock them around of course, sending more and more mooks to their doom by the second.

[Assistant]
These turtle guys were probably not trustworthy. Harvey didn't care. They might rob him and his new partner of all their Mags and probably try to sell them off as slaves. Harvey didn't care. They were a most likely benign gang, they were leading Harvey straight to their leader, and they weren't human. That was all Harvey cared about.

"No problems here," Harvey calmly remarked, "let's go see the king."

Harvey spared a glance at the troopas surrounding him. They were undoubtedly going to attack him. They would stuff him in a sack, and drag him to their king, and the king would turn into a Joy Mutant and kill everyone, because that's exactly how this day was turning out to be. Harvey didn't care. He'd go stomp out those lunatics that chased him here on his own time, on his own terms. Probably. More likely, they'd end up getting themselves killed trying to take down one of the big warlords. Vega Van Dam, or Rex Thunderstorm, or maybe even Lardy Hernandez. Yeah, this wasn't his problem. All he'd have to do is chill out with these guys' leader for a bit, maybe recruit a few dudes to work in his gang, and get back to gettin' back.

"Oh! Hey, Haruki! Harvey whispered into Harvey's ear as he waited, "How'd you feel about a little business partnership with me? I lost my old buddies, and Olathe ain't safe alone, you know?"

[User]
Amidst the pandemonium of this strange and devastated little town, amidst the fleeing toads and the charging koopas and the desolation brought about by bombs and warships there stood a spot of calm. Well, truth be told it was a man, and he lay rather than stand. Clad in monastic robes, he observed the developing battle with an amused grin fit more for a theater function than a battlefield. He was wholly out of place, and yet incredibly easy to miss in the ensuing chaos. Yes, Isei was quite familiar with chaos, and after what felt like an eternity spent in relative peace he welcomed a return to the pace of his younger years.

Of course, it wasn't quite the same. Whereas before he would've jumped at the chance to test his mettle in the confusion, to prove his martial arts worthy of war and capable of meeting any test, he felt little need to dirty himself right now. The battle and the enemies were so...beneath him. It simply wouldn't be sporting. He had done his part, moving unseen to clear paths and allow the tiny, terrified mushroom creatures to flee if they wished to. And now he observed, and given his expertise found himself drawn towards the one massive humanoid, yellow-skinned and with a leonine mane, rampaging around unarmed.

"Hmmm, you've interesting physical gifts, but those are really quite useless when applied without skill", he nonchallantly said to Jasper, who by the whim of fate happened to skid to a stop near his current resting spot, placing a hand on her shoulder to get a sense of her musculature. That they might not share a language never crossed his mind, he had quite literally walked across the breadth of his world and it had rarely been a problem. "You rely overmuch on size and strength, expend plenty of energy when minimal effort would suffice, yet you do not appear a complete novice. You should be most dissapointed in whoever trained you for not teaching you this, you could be so much stronger".


[System]
BASIC
Goes By (Nicknames): None currently available.
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Race: Human

APPEARANCE

Face Claim (Actor/Actress They're Played By): TBA / I've yet to find an actor for this character.
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Blue
Skin Tone: Slightly pale.
Height: 6'2
Weight: 170lbs
Build: Lithe, somewhat muscular.
Weapons: Twin swords, multiple daggers and knives hidden on him.

Overall Appearance:

Dark features, Visible, jagged scar that runs down his right eye. Various scars are hidden underneath his clothing.

Ghent is often clad in black or dark grays.
Most of his clothes are made from black leather; his cloak has a hood and a mask to cover the lower half of his face if needed. He has various weaponry concealed; he often wears fingerless gloves, laced up bracers, and boots.

PERSONALITY

Likes: Gold.
Dislikes: Talking, poverty, people in general.
Strengths: Picking locks, leadership, agility.
Weaknesses: Stubbornness, Greed.
Fears: Loss, failure.

Overall Personality:

Stubborn | Calculating | Complicated | Quiet | Incredulous | Shrewd

Ghent's family was very often poor and lived in a lower part of a small, poverty-stricken town. His mother passed away shortly after giving birth to her second son, Garth. Ghent was ten years in age when she passed.

Ghent's father turned to drinking heavily and he came to blame his children for the loss of his wife. Fearing for Garth, Ghent took matters into his own hands; at the age of thirteen, he took his younger brother and left home, never once looking back.

Life on the road was not an easy one, but Ghent was determined to tough it out so that they would not have to return to their father. At first, Ghent began with petty theft; he stole what was needed in order to keep them alive, they took shelter where they could and lied whenever questioned. As the years went on, they moved up in the world. After years of practice, Ghent became a highly skilled thief. This was the start of a life he would live well past his teenage years.

* * *

Ghent has an eerie calmness about him and his emotions are seldom ever shown. Because of this, he is very difficult to read -- almost impossibly so. Ghent handles matters in a diplomatic way and doesn't often resort to violence unless necessary. For the most part, he is quiet and reserved, therefore much of his past is unknown.

Deep down, Ghent does have a heart, though he does his best not to show it. He'd be the last to admit it, but he has a soft spot for those in need.

BACKGROUND

Date of Birth: ? Have to calculate that. ,_,
Place of Birth: Outskirts of Laketown. Not quite within the town, though close.

Family Relations:

- Garth (younger brother)
- Lydia (Mother; deceased)
- Vincent (Father)
- Kaiden (cousin)

[User]
Kili's concern was quite evident, though he did his best to mask it. The youngest knelt to help her gather up the larger portions of glass, and he had a terrible feeling that Thorin's arrival was to blame for her drastic change in mood. "I've broken quite a few windows." Dis had scolded her sons for rough housing when they were young, but accidents were unpreventable. The worst years were when Kili had taken up training with a bow. "Not to mention the door to Mum's favorite cabinet -- and I do not even have wings," he joked as he often did, his way of trying to lessen her guilt. "Mr. Baggins will understand; Bofur may even find a way to fix this. He's very handy, you know."

Fili rarely spoke out like this, and so Thorin was a bit surprised that he did not back down. Fili was very often reserved, and respectful, so for him to say this must have taken quite a bit of courage. Still. Elves. The very idea was insulting, and Thorin could feel his blood boil from the memory of Thranduil and his army denying them help.

Thankfully, Fili had thought to mention Dis. Thorin observed his eldest nephew, his steely gaze enough to make Bilbo feel nervous on Fili's behalf. "Then I do not know her?" The king wanted answers; did his sister know of this? "Who is she?"

[Assistant]
Saeril felt terrible; first breaking her host's objects, and even cower in fright from Thorin Oakenshield. A dwarf! She really didn't want Kili and Fili to speak on her behalf, and they didn't need to, but she honestly felt and figured that they were the only ones who can truly reason with such a proud, respected dwarf. She could only hope that their uncle would accept a creature he longly hated on his nephews' behalf. The she-elf continued to pick up the last portions of the glass, even while her godson was speaking. She understood him, and Saeril expressed that with a small amusing smirk coming forth, before giving a heartful chuckle at his joking albeit charming mannerism. She happily sighed before looking at down at him, scanning his face. "Your mother did say you were uncontrollable; the wild-child of your kin", Saeril fondly recalled those memories: in the forest, they ran and tumbled and laughed -- with her in the shadow of the tree, watching. "It's just fortunate enough for you, young Durin", she added, before giving herself time to stand.

Fili immediately regretted what he was gonna say next, and he couldn't exactly describe her for him, since 'time' was never really Thorin's top priority when it came to this quest. "Come see her yourself", he said calmly with determination, not backing down before turning around to slowly walk back to the living room, slightly anxious on what he just dragged over.

[User]
The frown never seemed to cease from his features, but Thorin did follow his eldest nephew from the room. "I will be back momentarily," he told the company pointedly, his way of instructing them to stay put until he resolved this matter. Bilbo gripped his cup of tea a bit tighter, his nerves completely shot.

Thorin was doing his best to remain levelheaded, but the mere mention of elves brought back less than pleasant memories for him. It did not help that his journey to obtain help in their quest had proved useless; he was on edge, and now was not the best time to confront him. Had it been any of the others, he would not have been reconciled with. Saeril was lucky that Fili had spoken on her behalf.

"She was right." Kili grinned lightly when he saw that he'd succeeded in cheering his godmother up. This was what he had hoped to do. Once he'd collected the remains of the mirror, he rose as well, but then he saw Thorin in the doorway. Kili hadn't heard him, and so this caught him off guard. The youngest paled a bit, then cleared his throat nervously. "Thorin, this is--"

"I know who this is." Thorin interrupted him briskly, irregardless if this was the case or not. The king's eyes were penetrating, and he observed the she-elf icily from where he stood. The broken glass did not go unmissed by him, though he did not question it now. "I have been informed that you wish to accompany us to the Lonely Mountain."

[Assistant]
Saeril took the remaining pieces of glass from Kili's hands, and proceeded to place them in a nearby steel bucket. As she turned around to face him again with a light-hearted smile, her yellow-green eyes gazed upon the Dwarven Prince behind him. Her smile faltering into an expression of slight fear, the she-elf backed away a little.

Hearing Thorin say that he knew who she was, Saeril stiffened, silently praying that he didn't know what she wanted him to know. She stayed quiet, and slowly composed herself, standing tall. "I am", she responded, with confidence slowly embracing her Elven features. "I'm going to guess that Gandalf never told you about me?", she said next, out of curiousity. "There's no need to warrant your trust in me. I am Saeril, the last of the Elves of Fangorn, and the godmother to the heirs of Durin, and a friend of your family", Saeril kept herself somewhat proud. "I pose no threat to you, Thorin Oakenshield"

[User]
"Gandalf has told me nothing." The bitterness in Thorin's tone of voice was enough to make Kili cringe. Why was he being so unreasonable? Saeril was their godmother, and the title had been given to her by Dis, no less. Couldn't he show a bit of respect?

As the she-elf introduced herself to be his nephew's godmother, Thorin nearly cursed in Khuzdul. "I would not consider you a threat." Their difference in height forced him to look upwards, and despite being the shorter or the two, Thorin carried himself with stubbornness and pride. "Our journey will be a long one...for what reason would you have to accompany us to the Mountain? What did Gandalf promise you?" The king did not bother to hide his suspicion, he seemed to believe that her only reason to come was for a portion of the treasure hoard.

"She's coming because she wishes to help us!" Finally, Kili spoke up on her behalf, his frown very akin to Thorin's. "You have no right to speak to our godmother in this way -- she's only shown us kindness." The words were rushed, but he challenged him all the same.

[Assistant]
Saeril kept her ground, as soon as she heard the bitterness coming from the Dwarven Prince. She sighed sadly at his demand for her reason to join them. She did indeed figure that he was just trying to protect his family's wealth, and she understood his reason. However, she didn't take it much for granted.

Sighing, the she-elf bowed down her head to look down at the floor to the side. "What have I done to make you hate me so?", her accented voice was heavily apparent within the sadness of her voice. "I'll tell you one thing, and one thing only, Thorin Oakenshield: gold means nothing to me", she confessed. It wasn't wealth that she wanted nor did it attract her. Not to mention that the greed to gold was disgusting. "Gandalf wanted me to redeem my past mistakes by doing something for someone else. Starting for me to help take you and your kin to the Lonely Mountain", she explained to his question.

Fili silently stood beside his baby brother, taking his side for the arguement of Saeril's case. He just hoped everything before him would resolve.

[User]
To see Kili so defiant was maddening; Thorin did not like to be at odds with his nephews, but he was stubborn and incredibly thickheaded when elves were discussed. It was of no surprise to him that Fili was on his brother's side; he was fiercely loyal to Kili. Rather than argue, Thorin listened as Saeril spoke.

"If accompanying us will ease your conscious, then so be it." Thorin remained cold, though he did relent, which was a great surprise to Kili. "We leave at dawn. I suggest you be ready." With that, he turned and left without further word to she she-elf, or his nephews.

Kili remained in place, his heart pounding in his ears. That could have gone worse. A lot worse. "I'm sorry. He shouldn't have spoken to you like that," he apologized for his uncle, for the sadness in his godmother's tone of voice hadn't gone unmissed.

[Assistant]
Saeril watched and listened as Thorin told her about the aspects of the journey, and she did feel herself relax when he didn't make the arguement go further. She managed to release a breath of air that she didn't realize she was holding when she saw him leave, though.

Hearing her youngest godson apologize, Saeril wasn't at all surprised nor was she dissapointed. It was an expression that she understood Thorin, and she pitied him. It wasn't his fault for showing a distrusting relationship with the Elven race, and she didn't blame him for their betrayal against him and his kin. With that solved, the she-elf turned to look at them.

"Whatever the case may be, he'll always be Thorin Oakenshild", she reassured him, showing that she wasn't at all offended. That was when she let her cloak be turned back to her wings, but kept them tucked in behind her back. Saeril slowly sat herself down on the lounge, and looked into the fire. "It's going to be a long journey", she finally spoke after a moment of silence.

Fili looked to his brother and gestured him to approach her, right on cue when she opened one of her wings, giving Kili and spot to sit with her. With that said, he lightly squeezed his shoulder before giving him a reassuring smile, and moved off to where Thorin was with the others.

[User]
Kili was appreciative of his brother's help; had Fili not been present, he feared Thorin would not have backed down. Then again, he wouldn't have backed down either; perhaps their uncle knew this. The lack of respect shown towards Saeril was indeed troubling, but he had hope that in time, Thorin would learn to accept her irregardless of race.

With a small, thankful smile towards Fili, Kili watched as his brother left the room. Hopefully Thorin would calm down enough to be civil by tomorrow. Though his brother had gestured towards Saeril, Kili felt hesitant. He didn't want to overstay his welcome, but he didn't want to leave her alone, either.

Finally, he made up his mind. Kili approached the lounge with some caution, and when he saw Saeril's wing shift slightly in order to grant him somewhere to sit, he did. Something was different in the air though; he felt troubled and nervous. Thorin had succeeded in making things awkward; he felt the need to apologize again, but he wasn't sure how.

Fidgeting with his sleeve, Kili glanced sideways to her. "That isn't the case, is it? What you said about Gandalf...and your past mistakes...is that the reason you've come?"


[System]
Age: 211, to his best estimate
Height: 6'2"
Weight: 192 lbs
Race: Vampire
Birthplace: England, circa 1667 (Elizabethan era)
Short Bio: Born in the Elizabethan era and surviving into the Victorian, Vail has seen the rise and fall of two centuries' worth of dynasties—not just human, but supernatural as well. As a member of the Hygrace family, he was raised in the wealth and prestige of the most powerful vampire clan in London. His uncle, Lord Reginald Hygrace, was a respected leader, known across the nation for offering protection to any vampires who needed sanctuary from The Order of the Saints: an influential group of men and women who tracked down and killed the "demons" for a living.

For nearly a century, Reginald's efforts kept both his family and the rest of the vampires safe. However, around the year 1750, he made the mistake of taking in a man named Lord Elias Wynter. At a glance, Elias seemed like just another refugee seeking sanctuary with the Hygrace family, but in truth, he sought to overthrow the ruling dynasty completely.

Unbeknownst to the Hygraces, the Wynters had been plotting for quite a while to take over and change the way that vampires lived in England altogether. They believed that as "superior beings," they should fight back against humans instead of hiding from them in fear. They saw the Hygraces were weak and cowardly, unfit to lead their kind, and so started a rebellion.

When he commenced his attack, Elias managed to kill Reginald, but his attempt to finish off the rest of the oldest generation was cut short by his victim's younger brother—Vail's father—Peter, who went on to take over as the leader of the Hygrace clan in his sibling's stead. Unfortunately, the Wynter family refused to give up after just one defeat and has continued to fight for power against the ruling dynasty ever since.

For Vail, the following century of his life was spent predominantly in hiding. As the son of the most powerful vampire in England, he had to look out not only for members of the Saints but the Wynters as well. With such a large target on his back, he learned how to fight and wield a gun in order to protect himself. Both skills have saved his life since.

Of course, he can't spend all his time in seclusion without going stir crazy, so he finds time to attend parties and other large gatherings put on by other aristocrats in London to get out of the Hygrace manor on occasion.

[User]
Vail kept up alongside Victoria's horse as she galloped from the manor past each barricade the Saints had erected to stop the Wynters. The animal's long strides allowed it to cover ground quickly, but he managed not to fall behind. The task of matching a stallion's gait would have been straining if he hadn't had a taste of Lady Crest's blood that day, but since he'd fed so recently, he wasn't even out of breath by the time they finally slowed to a stop.

Halting beside her steed, he swept his gaze over the surrounding buildings to keep watch for any other vampires. According to the Saints' information, the Wynters shouldn't have gotten this far yet, but it never hurt to be cautious. Besides that, he wanted to make sure there were no bystanders from the other clans in London. They were going to be using Victoria's blood as bait, so the entire plan could fall apart if she was attacked by someone who didn't belong to the Wynter clan before their actual targets grew close enough to trap.

Fortunately, the only people that he could see and smell in the area were the humans in a nearby pub. The rest of the streets were clear, so he turned to Victoria and nodded at her announcement that she was going to draw her blood. As soon as she opened her neck and began to coat herself in the scarlet liquid that flowed out, he felt his heartbeat quicken, and he shivered. The scent was as powerful as ever, and despite having already fed that same day, he had to force himself to stand still while she combed her bloodstained fingers through her hair. If this didn't make the Wynters lose their focus, nothing would.

"Nothing yet…" he murmured, dragging his wrist across the corner of his mouth where some of the excess saliva had escaped his mouth. He narrowed his eyes slightly, scanning the dark streets. His sense of smell alerted him faster than his vision, and he tensed at the odor of another vampire in the area—actually, more than one. The Wynters were close, and they were traveling in a group. In the next moment, he caught sight of a flicker of movement in a nearby alley. "Now!" he hollered, pivoting on his heel to run with her back toward the barricade, where the first wave of their Frankenstein army was waiting to fight.

--

Katherine had been in her bedroom when Mikael had entered the Hygrace manor. Unlike her husband, however, she had heeded Vail's warning and prepared to defend her family by feeding on humans daily in the city. So, when she heard Peter's scream, she ran downstairs as quickly as her legs would carry her and began ushering the other Hygraces to get ready to fight back. The scent of an unfamiliar vampire on their territory combined with the outcry of their leader was enough to rile up her nieces and nephews, and they all grabbed whatever makeshift weapons they could find to fend off the Wynter. To her dismay though, it wasn't enough.

Despite their best efforts, Mikael cut down every Hygrace he came across, until the few that remained had no other choice but to flee the manor if they wanted to live. Katherine retreated to her bedroom upstairs, panicked but unwilling to run as long as Peter was still alive and breathing. She couldn't leave him behind, and her loyalty led her to trap herself when the Wynter entered the room to finish her off. She stood with her back pressed against the wall and a fire iron in her hand as a last defense, bracing herself for the inevitable sting of the vampire's silver-lined blade. But it didn't come.

In the time between Mikael severing his leg and the minutes it took the Wynter to slaughter most of his family, Peter had made his way upstairs to look for a way to fight back as well. Using a cane to hold himself upright, he had hobbled toward his room, only to stop in the hallway when a faint scent had reached his nose: Crest blood. He had turned away from his door to go to Vail's bedroom instead, where he had found the bottle of Victoria's blood that sat untouched on the heir's bedside table. There had been more than enough to give him the strength he needed to take Mikael on, whether he was crippled or not.

So, just as the Wynter had raised his sword to slay the Hygrace leader's wife, Peter had lunged at him from behind, grappling for the blade with his fangs bared in a twisted snarl. They scrapped for a while, more evenly matched now that Lord Hygrace had taken the same drug as his opponent, but eventually, Peter managed to wrestle the brand away from Mikael and held it out warningly. "Get out of my territory," he hissed, leaning against the post of his bed to stay upright. His cane had fallen to the floor when he'd first attacked the Wynter.

In spite of his less than ideal condition, there was a darkness in his eyes that told the other vampire that he would kill him without hesitation of he tried to continue the fight.

[Assistant]
Mikael hissed and growled at Peter as he had him equally matched. He would need his clan as back up to finish him off. But he had taken enough of the Hygrace clan to leave with having done some damage to last a lifetime. So, he decided to quit while he was ahead. He was smart enough to know the best tactics. "This isn't over Hygrace!" He snarled before he jumped clear out the window. He ran into the night.

---

Lord Spencer got the first sight of Lady Victoria turning on her horse to run away from him. The smell of her blood in the air made the Wynter clan go into a frenzy. All the could think about was sinking their teeth into her sweet neck and drinking their fill of more of the blood that coursed through their veins right now, giving them the feeling they had the strength of ten vampires.

Phillipe and his mistress galloped through the first barricade. As she rode under the bridge, the Saints heads popped up and fired upon the Wynter clan. They were too distracted to dodge their bullets and bolts. It impacted a few of them to slow them down. Victoria gained more sizeable gap between them as she le them straight to the next barricade where two suffered severed limbs, one was impaled through the heart with a silver bullet. There were less of them gaining on Victoria.

Her heart raced as she willed her horse to go faster still. Her long hair whipped behind her wildly. She made it to the third barricade where a volley of shots impaled five other vampires and slowed them to a near halt or ended them altogether. She glanced back momentarily, it looked like they were winning. However, before the fourth and final barrier at Crest Manor, Mikael leaped out of nowhere in front of the horse and slashed its neck. Phillipe neighed and stumbled as its blood spurted out everywhere. Victoria screamed as she felt the horse fall and she was flung from the saddle. She hit the ground. Hard.

She grit her teeth and looked up through her blood stained hair and saw her horse laying on the ground, lifeless. Tears formed in her eyes. "Phillipe!" Her beloved companion, she loved so much was now dead in its own pool of blood. Mikael stood in the middle of the street and stared Vail down with a dark grin. His fangs glinted in the light of the oil filled lamps.

"So. This is the mutt who stole Christopher's bride? Hmph. He isn't much to look at." Mikael taunted as Spencer caught up to them. Mikael stood between Victoria and Vail's escape to Crest Manor where more traps and Saints lay. Victoria's heart raced and before anyone could retort Mikael's comment, she took her crossbow from her back and fired it at his head. He caught it easily in his hand. The silver merely felt hot to the vampire instead of burning him completely. "I must say. Your blood is something God could not have created himself."

[User]
At first, it looked like the Saints' plan was working. Vail and Victoria swept past the first few barricades with ease, leading their pursuers straight into the jaws of the waiting hunters at every checkpoint. The Wynters were too frenzied by the smell of her blood to comprehend the trap that they were willingly stepping into, and they were being picked off one by one the closer they got to the Crest manor. Occasionally, the Hygrace heir peeked back over his shoulder to see how many were left. The majority of the rival clan was still hot on their tail, but it was encouraging to see their numbers dwindle every time he checked up on them. The longer the hunt went on, the more confident he felt that the Order and the Moncourier clan were going to come out of this battle as victors. There was just one barricade left.

He turned around to look forward again after glancing at the Wynters one more time. The manor was just up ahead, so he hastened his pace alongside Victoria's horse, eager to end it. However, in the next moment, his eyes widened as a new scent struck him suddenly. The smell was Wynter, but it wasn't one of the vampires who had been following them thus far. It was a new individual who was somewhere up ahead. He swore under his breath and turned to warn Lady Crest that they needed to alter their course to avoid an ambush, but the enemy was faster. Much faster, in fact.

He inhaled sharply as a figure darted out from a nearby alley and dug a set of cat-like nails into the stallion's neck, tearing clean through its flesh with one sweep. The beast crashed to the ground, and Vail skidded to a stop to avoid tripping over its body. His blood ran cold at the sound of Victoria's scream, but fortunately, it seemed like she had just been surprised by the attack, not injured. Determined to protect her from the new threat, he rushed to her side and looked over his shoulder with a concerned frown. The vampires who hadn't been taken down by the Saints were closing in on them quickly. They had to keep moving because he couldn't take them all on by himself.

When the new arrival spoke up, Vail turned around again. He didn't care at all what a Wynter thought of him. What caught his attention was the fact that the vampire was able to hold a silver crossbow bolt in his bare hand without cringing. He gawped incredulously at the sight. He'd never met any vampire who could handle the metal so effortlessly, and he couldn't understand how this man seemed to be impervious to the arrow's sting. For half a second, he wondered if this Wynter was part human like Victoria's brother, but that option was ruled out quickly. He didn't smell at all like a human. The vampire standing before them was a pure-blooded immortal.

He was wrenched from his thoughts when the Wynter spoke of Victoria's blood. His skin prickled at the tone of the other vampire's voice, and he narrowed his eyes. If not for Spencer's presence nearby, he would have lunged at him to keep her safe. However, he couldn't leave her side and put her at risk of being attacked by someone else while his back was turned.

Unless.

His eyes flicked down to the crossbow in her hands. She had been training since they'd first met, and she was wearing a full suit of silver armor, so perhaps she could handle her ex fiancé while he fended off the ambusher. The Wynter may have been able to tolerate an arrow, but he was feeling good with a fresh dose of Victoria's blood in his system from that morning. At the very least, he could attempt to keep the other vampire distracted while she made a run for the castle.

"It wasn't created for you," he spat, hoping to draw the Wynter's attention to him. He could smell Victoria's blood on the rival's breath, so he was aware that he'd drank some somehow, but the knowledge didn't deter him. He casted one more furtive glance at the Crest heiress, praying that his hunch had been right and she could hold her own against one vampire without him, before he sprinted at the man he'd targeted.


[System]
Vena said to post my CS in this tab. Yay!
Age: 8 years
Gender: female
Race: half-Ydran

Appearance: Amuné looks like a normal Muran child at first glance. It is only at closer examination that hints of her Ydran parentage. She is on the smaller side, lacking the slight chubbiness of most younglings. Her features have a sharp cast, though her ears are not so pointed that she cannot pass for Muran. Her coloring is washed out, with pale mousy hair cut a little past her jawline and light grey eyes. At the moment, her clothes are ragged and stained, her hair untidy and her face splotched with grime. She travels in the company of Wyth, a large moorcat. a younger version of Amuné

Element Affinity: Luminous (Seer)
Gear: Amuné has next to nothing in the way of possessions.

Brief History: Amuné's parents met by chance as teenagers when Baldur's tribe passed near Amira's village. Amira, who was studying to be a midwife and herbalist under the elderly village healer, came across him and a few others while out gathering plants. She had seen Ydra only rarely, as they didn't often come to her town, and she was fascinated by them and their animals. Baldur found her bold curiosity cute, and he enjoyed the energetic company of someone that wasn't from his people. They quickly became friends, and over the following few years, Baldur would make excuses to go off on his own to see her whenever his travels brought him within a day's travel. Eventually romance blossomed, and a tumble in the woods lead to a child. Baldur had moved on by the time Amira found out she was pregnant, but when he received word following Amuné's birth, he went to join her in the town. He was met with some suspicion by the villagers, as they had limited contact with Ydrans. This never completely went away, but his bright personality smoothed things over for the most part.

The pair were both Magi. Amira had minor skill with healing, and Baldur was a talented Air Magus. He also had a knack for woodwork and other small crafts, and his toys and kites became popular with the village children. Amuné was not formally acknowledged as his, as Amira realized this would make life easier for the child, and the girl had enough difficulty already. Even as a baby, the girl was a bit odd. She would react oddly to what appeared to be nothing at all, and at times her mood would change for no apparent reason. On occasion she was even afflicted with fits where she would not respond to those around her, instead focusing on something only she perceived and saying things that made no sense. Eventually it became evident that, among other things, she seemed to know the outcome of calls for her mother's services as a midwife before Amira returned home. Baldur realized his daughter had an unusual gift indeed: Sight. He'd heard of the occasional Seer but never met one. By this time technology was taking hold, and there was talk of the decline of magic, and the start of tension between Magi and non-Magi. As the victim of low level xenophobia himself, Baldur realized that her power could easily be viewed with suspicion, and imparted to Amuné the importance of keeping it to herself. She took his advice to heart, but cannot always control her visions, nor what she says during them, and there were at least a small number of villagers that figured out she had magic of some sort.

Life was good for the most part, but when the Church of the Nine Saints turned to technology and tensions erupted, as both a Magus and an outsider Baldur fell under increasing scrutiny. The townsfolk didn't mind Amira, for though she was a Magus she was one of their own, and a healer besides, but became more hostile towards Baldur, accusing him of stealing power from their Demacite crystals to use, even though he had all but stopped using his magic. The pair discussed leaving town, but Amira had spent all her life there, and while she was curious about outsiders the thought of leaving everyone she knew terrified her, and she couldn't bring herself to agree. The ill temper and seething discontent encouraged by the Church erupted one evening, and a mob came to kick Baldur out of their village. Amuné was outside playing, and she retreated to her father's side as the villagers confronted him. Baldur ordered Wyth to sit, so the cat wouldn't seem to be aggressive, and tried to talk them down and reassure them that he was not trying to cause harm to anyone. They didn't listen, and when a man who shoved Baldur brushed against Amuné as well, it triggered a vision for her. She said only "the village will be in flames", but that was enough for the riled-up townsfolk. They tried to grab both her and her father, over Amira's protests. With his daughter in danger, the generally gentle Baldur tried to fight off those going after her, using fists and his magic. He was not a strong man, and hadn't needed to defend himself in years -- not since he'd come to live in the village. Wyth made a better accounting of himself, but there were too many for a single cat, however fierce, to fight off. Baldur's aim was to take Amuné and Amira, if the woman would come, and flee, but he was unable to break away from the attackers. Following a solid stab to his hip and one to his shoulder, he told Wyth to take Amuné and run. The last she saw of her parents was her mother trying desperately to reach her fallen father as the mob turned on the woman as well.

Additional info: Frightened by the events immediately preceding her leaving her home, Amuné is more withdrawn than she was growing up.

Name: Wyth
Age: 10 years
Gender: male
Race: moorcat

Appearance: Wyth has an appearance typical to moorcats. He is a large feline, standing nearly two and a half feet at the shoulder, with a thick, slightly shaggy coat of mottled gray and brown, with a lighter gray and cream underbelly. His paws are proportionally larger, to help distribute his weight on the often sodden and muddy ground of the moors and marshland. His eyes are pale green, on the yellower side of the hue.

Brief History: Wyth was the kit of another moorcat owned by a member of Baldur's community. He imprinted on Baldur as a kitten, and has accompanied the man ever since. When Baldur fell for Amira and eventually went to live in her village, Wyth joined them. The moorcat is very fond of their daughter, Amuné, and treats her like he might a kitten.

Additional info: Originally the companion of Amuné's father, he now stays with her and guards her.

[User]
Cecil didn't know what he was supposed to say or what he should do during a situation like this, whether he should try and take Nymira away from the man; then again, she wasn't the one that needed protecting. The guy was not a threat, that much he could assess, but Nymira was certainly threatening him a whole bunch. He didn't know if she was going to get into trouble by doing any of this but he certainly wasn't going to butt in and cause even more of a stir. He wasn't sure whether these people saw him as a machine or if they thought he was a real being like normal people saw him, so keeping quiet and fairly expressionless was probably his best bet right now. He was sure Nymira was going to calm down at any point at least, then maybe they can continue with what they were needing to do.

Finally once everything calmed down Cecil tried to remove his worries by focusing on Nymira who was looking and sounding rather confident in what she wanted. He didn't want her to get in over her head like that again just in case someone might attack, seeing how everyone seemed to like to attack when something happened that was out of the ordinary. He didn't know what set people off like that but it was definitely a case of 'no touch' with Nymira. Frowning, he turned and waited for Nymira to calm herself down he stared at the knife before his attention was taken to the other woman, feeling worried yet looking calm after all of that. If Nymira had harmed the man then they would all be in trouble and the fastest way out was through the window, but even then if those Machina turned out to be suitable for combat like he was then he didn't know how he might handle them. Whether he could harm another Machina was still questionable.

With everything soon done and everything arranged, Cecil continued on with Nymira quietly while trying to ignore the man. It was definitely difficult since he liked to talk not to mention he was fairly rigid in his movement as his nerves kicked in. He didn't know anything about this guy other than something about healing and not a Magi, but it probably wasn't important to understand more of this man when he didn't appear to be very interested in him either. Continuing with them quietly he looked up when he heard Ethan's voice calling out behind his thought process, looking around at first before finally spotting him. Raising his hand briefly to wave he quickly glanced at Zander, lowering his hand again soon after.

He was fairly happy to see Amuné and Ethan, but he wasn't particularly happy that they needed this man for their next steps. Cecil was still trying to recover his energy and if this guy creates trouble he would only be wasting that gathered energy and wasting valuable recharge time. He didn't want his battery dying out again, he wanted to keep going and try to use his own energy reserves before having to rely on his main power source. Looking between Ethan and Zander he tried to analyse the first meeting of these two, trying to understand how this was going to work out when this man was an outsider and possibly a risk to his existence as a Machina that looked like a Mura.

[Assistant]
Zander smiled at the last remark. Yes, he would do just fine at helping them, he didn't have a choice anymore. His eyes cut to Cecil when he lifted his Mura hand in what could only be a shy wave. Tilting his head in slight though he couldn't help but wonder who the quiet entity was. A bodyguard for the Princess Pain here? Perhaps more then met the eye it would seem. So engrossed in his staring, it was a slight shock to see someone standing before him, hand held out, and if Zander had to place it a disarming smile on his face. He could do what he did to the Princess, just to annoy her, his eyes shifted to the younger of the group, Amuné and stared at her for a moment.

He would in all good conscious, have to read their auras to make sure nothing clung to them. His healing training taught him to always learn who had wait to help with minor healing and with major workings. What wouldn't work and what would. Sighing and taking his eyes off the youngest of the group, he gripped Ethan's hand and dropped it as if he had been jolted. "What in the world..." Zander muttered under his breath, the Seal Paper from earlier glowing in his pouch. "Poison... No residue, rather... Left over..." Gripping Ethan's hand again and smiling softly, he let his own borrowed power wash over Ethan. "I guess as her Royalness stated," Zander grinned watching the sea-green glow rolling across Ethan's body as it purged the lesser poison away. "I am Alezander. Wandering Healer. Since I shall be placing your life in my hands, I must ask you put mine in yours."

Grinning wickedly at Nymira, "A liar as well yes, but that is all in the semantics. Worry not Madam Secretary, the Mayor will awaken in good time. Before we get too caught up in everything, I'll have to let my Papers feel out your Aura's to know if you have anything left over from previous fights, or if healing is needed. Which," again he smirked at Nymira. She would be fun to wind up, he knew she wouldn't kill him, the blade was for show. "means I'll have to touch each of you. I can do this and walk at the same time. It will be such wonderful times, I am most certain."

Without waiting for a response Zander headed for the door and towards the exit. Stopping a few steps before, he couldn't stop himself, he looked at Cecil. "You look tired. Perhaps you should rest more often... Or not." Stopping to grab his staff, he slung it over his shoulder, letting it fall into the make-shift sheath along his back. Stretching and keeping his senses alert, he waited at the door for the rest to talk and walk and get this over with. Thinking to himself, he couldn't help but be wary of the youngest of the group. He could feel the pulse coming off her. It felt like his mother, the Saint who watched over him as well. This, would not be a fun time at all.

After this, I'll heal Olga, and be gone before they know it.

[User]
Amuné was glad to rejoin Cecil and Nymira, but she wasn't thrilled to hear about the rescue mission they had to embark on, nor was she sure of the newcomer that was tagging along with the pair. She watched Alezander warily, though she didn't meet his eyes, and when she caught him staring at her she moved to put Ethan between them. A healer was a good thing, but could they trust him? He seemed mostly harmless, but was he really?

The man dropped Ethan's hand, but suddenly grabbed it again. And...suddenly used magic. Amuné gasped. The man was a Magi? Maybe since he was a healer he didn't have to worry about keeping his magic hidden? Her village had liked her mommy much better than they'd liked her daddy.

The girl didn't understand what he meant about papers, but she didn't want Alezander touching her. He was a stranger, and she didn't trust him. Maybe he was a healer and a Magi, but she hadn't liked the way he smiled at Nymira. It had been a mean smile. And he kept looking at her, and there was something odd in his expression when she caught him at it. Amuné kept Ethan between herself and the newcomer, and softly told Wyth to stay close too.


[System]
Alias: Blitz

Position: eleventh grade (high school junior)

Abilities/powers: Electricity manipulation/generation - Shawn has the ability to control, direct, and create electricity from his body. He is essentially a living, rechargeable battery

Electromagnetic manipulation - a sub power to his electricity manipulation, Shawn has also started to learn how to control electromagnetic fields, using them and warping them to his aid. This is very much a lesser power to Shawn, and he can only use it to assist with his electricity manipulation.

Plasma Absorption- Shawn can absorb any form of plasma and take it into his body, storing it for later use. However, he can only hold so much before it starts to have negative effects on his body, warping his senses and even causing body spasms. The level of plasma he is holding can usually be discovered through his eyes.

electrical immunity- due to his abilities, Shawn does not feel pain from electricity, nor to outside electrical forces have any effect on his body, unless it is an inhuman amount and something not even he can contain.

Sex: Male

Age/Date of Birth: 16 - May 7th, 1983

General appearance:

Shawn stands at five feet, eight inches, Not as tall as his titan of a mother, but he is already taller than his father. Though he has a rather lithe build, he's strong enough to tackle most problems with his body, though he prefers to use his powers over brute force.

Additional Appearance/costume:

More of a prototype than anything, Shawn rigged up his own suit with the assistance of those in the school. The faceplate beneath the visor of the motorcycle helmet has small nodes on the inside to interact with Shawn's powers, allowing him to change the colors of the mask at will. The entire suit is lined in a similar way, the crevasses glowing with the activation of his powers, much like the suits from the movie TRON.

Personality:  Though a self proclaimed 'chiller', Shawn is at the point in his life where he is so stressed out that it has made him numb and even. He swears that he's listening, especially when his head is propped up with his arm and there's a trail of droll leaking from his mouth. He does try, though. He is a bit of a perfectionist in the few things he can actually focus on, but otherwise airy to the world around him. He is the worst combination of "driven to take on the world" and "could not get off the couch for unlimited money". He likes to talk, mindless chatter and banter during fights, but mostly just whispering conversations and thoughts to himself, slinging thoughts and ideas around from him to himself.

Special Skills: Escrima Stick proficiency, Tonfa proficiency, moderate athleticism, moderate wiring skills.

Place of birth: Massachusetts, USA

Weapon(s) of choice: Shawn... borrowed, two old police batons to work with his powers, juicing them up with delicious electricty to pack an extra punch.

Medical information: Fit as a fiddle.

Brief History:Born to a hearty Irish mother and immigrant father, Shawn was raised in a house of mixed cultures was was spectacularly odd. Both of his parents were mutants, his mutations being an amalgamation of theirs. When his powers came, his family welcomed them with open arms, and the town was curious, but not negative of his abilities. However, his parents could only teach him so much. He was sent off to the Xavier school to further hone his powers and help those in need.

Relatives: (Any living, dead, or important relatives your character may have)

Name: Doctor Booker "Blake" Smith, PhD

Alias: Lightsmith

Position: Student Councilor, Therapist, Substitute Teacher

Abilities/powers: Light Manipulation, "Hard Light Constructs" - Blake has the ability to channel "Mana" and create solid structures out of light. The strength of the constructs depends on how much mana he makes it out of, and is also dependent on his physical energy. His constructs can shatter if he is not strong enough, and he can make them move and morph at will.

Sex: Male

Age/Date of Birth: 36 years old, 2/5/1963

General appearance:

Additional Appearance/costume:

Personality:Lax and Easygoing, Blake was a part of one of Professor Xavier's first classes after the Apocolypse incident, and only left the institute to get his degree in psychology. He returned to the institute to help Charles and stand in for any of the big X-men and women when they could not teach their own classes. Not exactly a hippy or a guru, but he does sometimes drift into those categories.

Special Skills: Doctorate in Psychology, pistol training, combat training.

Place of birth: California

Weapon(s) of choice: His constructs, namely. He has an emergency pistol that he can pour mana into and fire light, but hardly uses it.

Medical information: (Any medical conditions your character may have, not a necessity)

Brief History:

Relatives: (Any living, dead, or important relatives your character may have)

[User] "Well its a pleasure to meet you Mr.Harris-Chamred. Is that hyphenated?" Jacob said as an attempt at a joke. At the mention of their new rooming arrangements, Jacob's eyes widened a little bit. He didn't know how he felt about having a dorm-mate. On the one hand it'd probably be nice to have some one to talk to on a more regular basis but there was always the chance that he might be a prude and have an issue with Jacob making his silk into clothes. Regardlessly, Jacob figured that he'd just have to deal with it. "I'm on my way back to my- our room myself! I was just gonna hang out for a bit but I could help ya move in if you need help with that." Jacob offered in an attempt to start things off on a good note with his new dorm-mate.

[Assistant]
Christopher Harris

Christopher started walking in the general direction of the room, and smiled slightly at the other's joke. "No, that would not be necessary - The help is bringing it over later and they will make sure everything is delivered where it is to be. As for the name... no - If anything where to be hyphenated with that name it'd never be something as... meek as 'charmed'. (He guffawed lightly) I was wondering about whether or not there was a music room... I would hate to get out of practice - and if there is none, I will have to practice in our's. You won't mind, would you?" He stopped in front of the door he assumed to be theirs and looked at the other?

[User] "Honestly, I don't know if there's a music room. I mostly stick to places I know around here and don't explore this place a whole lot. As for playin' in the room, I'm perfectly fine with it... As long as your good at it that is." Jacob said with a small chuckle. He then opened the door to their room which Christopher had correctly assumed was the right one. The room was littered somewhat with Jacob's Silk clothing but other than that it was relatively tidy still with his plants happily growing by the window "So this is our room, sorry for the bit of the mess. I'll get that all cleaned up ASAP so your- er help have room for your stuff." Jacob said, he wasn't used to saying help as a noun and it honestly felt a little awkward to say it, as if he were calling something by the wrong name. Jacob began cleaning his clothes off the floor and stuffing them under his bed. He didn't bother with his closet as he knew that it was filled to the brim with other similar articles of clothing. "So what kind of powers do you have? You a telepath or something? Oh! Can you turn into living metal! I saw a guy with powers like that today already." Jacob asked curiously.

[Assistant]
Chrys leaves for the cafeteria to get some grub before dropping his bag in his dorm room. As he walks he mindlessly spins a pencil in his hand. As he's been here he's noticed his powers getting stronger, his ability to shift things requiring less effort, the focus needed didn't change, in fact if he tried harder shifting moving objects was easier and he was learning to change the direction of the object, mid-shift.

For Chrys, his whole goal was to become stronger, to follow his late father's footsteps and help those who couldn't help themselves. He touches the dogtags that hang around his neck, remembering the whishes of his father. To become part of something greater than himself. With this thought he enters the commons of the dorm, preparing to shift out to the Training Room.

[User]
"Thanks teach." Nate smiles and moves to sit next to Pete. This should be fun. Thanks to his parents genes and vocation, Nate's mind was always hungering for more. "Hey Pete, hows life?" Nate asks as he sits down.

 "Thanks prof, that would be great." Nate answers, knocking on the door. "I may have a sharp mind, but it tends to get me lost from time to time. Plus anything you can tell me about the training we are going to do, plus how you cope with all the minds at once, how you look at the world so nicely when so many are against us, etc...." Nate trails off not sure if he should go on. A dark feeling starts in his gut as he thinks of how his parents would have loved being here.

[Assistant]
Amber eyes opened, as she listened to the squirrels hurl their insults at the intruding threat. It was very well for them this form was far too heavy for the branches they preferred. Ayita wasn't aboving giving them a good scare by biting a few tails. Heaving her tiger self to her feet- paws, she corrected herself. The young mutant frowned at the book and discarded shoes. Nosing both towards the satchel, it took her a bit to work the book and sandals in their proper place. More than once, she mistakenly used claws instead of simply gripping. Flexing a paw several times she worked the claws in and out of their sheaths. Wondering in the strength she felt in the corded muscle under her fur. Lean due to youth she had yet to reach her full growth, but still she was close to the size of a adult. Chuckling, it came out as a chuff, she picked up the bag in her fangs.

Trotting back towards the manor, she chuffed her laugh as she leap over a bench easily. Her legs stumbled every so often, and Ayita stepped on her own tail much to her dismay. Prowling through the manor, she was keen to stay out of sight of others. Lest they panic at the fact a tiger was roaming about. Mutants or no, she wasn't keen on being shrieked at. Her nose twitched at a different scent, and a well spoken voice. Spotting 'Hive' and a unfamiliar face enter a room, Ayita decided to poke her striped nose into things. Moving with a hunter's grace she moved to pause just behind the unfamiliar youth. Listening to Hive quiz him about his powers. He must be new, if he was so unknown. Giving a grumbling growling at this new development, but gave a louder one that was a tad more pointed to warn this youth to not back up. Lest he trip and fall on her.

@Almosegosum

[User]
So many people were eager for class, it was rather interesting, Raven thought. Never had she seen to many young minds ready to get beaten the tar out of in her Combat Training class. It was an optional class, normally taken by those who wanted to make a difference by becoming X-Men. She also had a basic training class as well, just for those that wanted a little more protection in a world that still wasn't completely accepting of mutants. But right now, it was Combat Training. Time for the heroes-to-be to show her what they had been working on since the day before.

Heidi, Shawn, Samuel, Tatiana, and Chrys all regular stars of her class. They all performed well, but she wanted to start implementing some changes before the new year. She only had a little more than a month until 'Holiday' Break, and she wanted them to be ready for what she was going to throw at them in the second semester.

Shawn had just arrived in the Danger Room, cutting it a little closer than normal, but he was just as ready as everyone else was.

Of course, she couldn't forget Zack and Griffin, Jean-Paul's nephew. He was going to be joining the class as well. A telepathic note from Charles also alerted her of another one, Nate, on his way. They school was easy to start whenever, so it wasn't that big of a deal that Nate and Yeti were starting up most of their things only now.

She waited patiently for them all to arrive before she started to speak. Though she was not in her Official X-Men uniform, she was dressed for light hand-to-hand combat. She hardly aged after all of these years, and she was just as fit as she was back in the seventies.

"Alright, everyone. Before we get started today, I'm going to take this time to remind you all that just because December is getting closer, it is absolutely no excuse to start rushing things so that you'll have as much free time as possible. If you're in any clubs, affiliated with any Staff-Teams, then your break is already looking a little packed, sorry." She didn't sound all that sorry. She paced across the danger room floor, looking at the teens before her. She couldn't exactly introduce Zack and Griffin. That was their own case to talk as freely or as little about as they wanted, and truth be told, she didn't know what much about the incoming Nate. "We do have some new arrivals in the class, though. A little introduction from them and what they can do, then we'll get cracking."

---

Charles smiled. It was understandable that a mind could wander. He surely knew that after all of this time. He rolled out on his wheelchair past his desk and over to the door. "Well, Nate. Your training will be overseen by Miss Darkholme. Mystique, if you know her better by that alias. You'll be sparring with your classmates, fighting robotic opposition, and Miss Darkholme and our resident mechanic Forge will make sure that everything coming your way is designed to help you in areas where you may fall a little flat, as well as sharpen the skills that you use the best."

He did his best to explain everything as the two traveled through the halls and through an elevator in the far back of the school. Only those with clearance were allowed downstairs at all, but even then you'd need additional clearance to access any of the rooms. Students usually only needed the danger room, but many of the teachers also slept down stairs. Not to mention the hangar, the war room, and various other rooms that only official X-men were allowed to enter. With forge helping, it was rather easy to install biometric scanners, of whatever he called them, so that the door need only look at you and judge if you are supposed to be there or not.

"As for my powers." The elevator door closed, leaving Charles and Nate in the pristine white box. "It's taken decades of training to hear only my own voice. Like any mutation, the only thing keeping you from progressing is the belief that your own body is beyond your control. You need only have willpower and patience to accomplish anything, Nate."


[System]
Age: Appears 28
Race: Chatilian
Home Planet: Strarvis DUV, Galaxy Sagitta Aegimius
Skills: To be roleplayed
Hobbies: Enjoys reading, Blacksmithing, Going out to bars
Job: Strarvis Yakuza
Rank: Lieutenant of the Strokath Family
Likes: A good drink, working with fire, keeping fashionable
Dislikes: Tbr
Appearance:

[User]
As much as Cel knew the kind of pain Orion was feeling, he had a bit of a hard time feeling bad for him in this moment. The Behemoth in front of them was destroying everything in its path. It still shocked him that anyone could build something like this and he had seen some pretty scary shit in the past. In that moment though, Cel felt a cool brush of air behind him. He spun around to see if someone else was on the ship with them but nothing was there. He then felt pressure on his right arm but, same as before, no one was touching him. Cel shook his head. "Get a grip Cel. You've seen death before." He thought to himself thinking it was just nerves, but the feeling of someone being around him wouldn't go away. As he turned around to look back at the death machine, Phobos exploded into nothing. Ships where blowing up from the force and rubble of the now destroyed moon. Everything he had known and loved was gone.

Ursa had shut down the ship as Orion yelled. They were suspended in space, watching the carnage unfold around them. Cel had to look away. There was no hope for anyone else out there unless they got lucky like the four of them did. "Seeing as we're going to be stuck here for a while, we might as well get better acquainted." He mostly said that to get everyone's attention away from the horror outside. He looked at the new girl and shook her hand properly. "I'm Celebrimbor, but you can cal me Cel for short. Makes it easier." He smiled then kissed her hand. He already knew who Ursa was, given probably not aswell as he'd liked. She worked for him before and had a relatively good relationship with her, but there was probably a lot that he didn't know about her. As for Orion.... He didn't want to know him.

[Assistant]
"That's a good question" stated Orion "Ursa, is it?". Ursa nodded an affirmative while maintaining her facial expression. Orion could see the breath begin to form from the loss in temperature and as a kind gesture offered his coat to Ursa. "It's going to get colder and you might want this For the time being.". He paused "Now we would have to ask the missus over here about the hyperdrive."

 Orion turned towards Xael. "Forgive my intrusions but I am most appreciative of you risking to travel with us particularly without knowing who or what we were. Formal introductions would be prudent concerning the state we are in." Orion thought for a moment and looked back towards Ursa who had that old familiar look and Drifted his gaze to the black monstrosity outside the cockpit. "Officially I am Star Colonel Orion Cassius Steiner of the 21st Centauri Lancers. Prince to the Valorian Hedgemony. I was a student under Anastasius Focht of the Maskirovka before our world Valera erupted into full scale war with the Rulons again. I feel compelled to be honest with you all. I have been trying to secure the funds and back channel support for Valora. We are at a stalemate and have been fighting a losing war. I sequestered Celebrimbors services for transport to my dropship. We all seem to have come together by pure coincidence. Gladly I thank you all for putting any differences aside to emerge from this horror unscathed." He extended the olive branch "This is your ship. I am at your mercy. I would prefer and I would pay you in kind if you would take me to my dropship, however if you want to go to another system, I can find an alternate way to get back". Celebrimbor Looked up in dismay most likely perturbed by Orion's choice to offer an alternative that did not coincide with him getting his deal so Orion mentioned "Don't worry Cel, our deal still stands and in light of the circumstances I'm sure we can come to another arrangement that works for both of us."

Orion turned back to the control panel pushing himself off of a stagnate ACE, his magnetics keeping him attached to the deck in near zero g. "Just curious". He motioned to Xael "How long would it take for your systemS to be back. Without a doubt whomever they are will be sending out scout fighters to finish the job". He turned back to Ursa draping his jacket over her and the chair. "That was some nifty flying, you didn't learn that all from simple shoot an scoots. You've been places and by the look on your face Wherever it was left a scar. The eyes don't lie." He stared at her for a moment looking past the emotional barricade she was putting up. He'd seen that look every time he looked in a mirror. "Now once we get this up and running is there anything I can do to assist?"

............autonomous computerized entity boot sequence initiated.
............Diagnostic recovery in progress.
............Sensors Initiating.
...............................
............uplink to Master override complete.
............Fission startup initiated.
........................3...2...1.
Autonomous systems activated.
Weapon Systems Nominal.
Life Support Systems Nominal.
All Systems Nominal.
Searching....................
Status Operation Nova Redoubt .... pending
Status Operation Vigilance ... pending
Status Operation Nimbus Point 1 ... Complete. Files Secured.
Status Sagittarius ... unknown
Status Valora ... unknown ...unable to update

Unable to locate Signal 224.
Unable to locate Signal 418.

Commencing secondary startup and tertiary systems.
Memory purge, systems incomplete.
Beginning tertiary diagnostics and memory defrag...

[User]
As the temperature dropped, Ursa brought her hands up to her mouth, trying to warm them slightly as she shivered. Orion walked over and she turned to look at him, giving him a nod when he mentioned her name. She was about to reject the offer of his coat in protest of her pride when he paused turning to Xael.

Ursa listened in to Orion's introduction, taking in the information with a newfound interest. She knew about the war on Valera through her boss Jerry. That sector was run by Yuri's crew, and he was probably providing the Rulon's with ex-grade munitions to fight the Valorian's, or aiding the Valorians in the same manner. Hell, the bastard was probably doing runs for both. She didn't know and she was glad that she could honestly say she knew nothing about it. Would be messy if Orion found out her compatriot was batting for the other team. She turned away looking out at the carnage before her as she tried to deduce a pathway out of here. The loss of both Phobos and the innocent lives that settled there would haunt her. She was lucky to be alive. They all were.

She turned to look at Xael with a tough reassuring smile, "Don't worry about the fighters, Dollface. I've never lost a client or a vessel in my entire career and I don't intend to anytime soon. Just in case we die though, I also want to thank you for letting us use your vessel. I'm Ursa Cooper by the way!"

She shivered again her hands shaking slightly on the handles when a jacket was draped over her and the chair. She looked up at Orion, wishing her hat didn't fly off earlier as she felt slightly exposed. She gave him a cool look, one she used to keep most men at arms length when he spoke. She felt the urge to look away, not liking that he seemed to be able to look right through her. Her yellow eyes didn't waver though, and even though she seemed to keep her control, she was slightly rattled. She felt the sudden urge to be honest, and to let him see the pain she carried. Perhaps it was because she could see he had it to as he said visible in his own eyes. She didn't trust him though, she could already tell by her attitude with him that she was playing with fire. Secrets were her livelihood and the less anyone knew about her the better. So she closed up and the brief moment of truth was replaced with a mischievous smirk, her thick titanium walls closing to him as she responded lightly in a teasing drawl, "Thanks, cowboy. I bet you say that to all the pretty girls. And uh..thanks for the coat."

She gave him a too-wide smile as she put it on the right way, her hands shaky as she pulled it tight around her. Humor was a defense mechanism she used often, and even with the sadness just below the surface, she felt it necessary to use it now. She was already feeling warmer as she turned to watch the big behemoth, move slowly away from the destroyed remains of Phobos. She could see from a distance the release of scouting ships, with four to five heading in their direction. She swore, "Shit..."

She then looked up at Orion at his request to help and turned to Xael, "That depends on the weapon system this ship is equipped with. Dollface, we have got five bogies coming this way, and the temperature drop will only hide us for so long. I'm assuming the big boy needs time to recharge that wave before it hits again so if we want to hyperdrive we need to do it soon. It will take too long to give me full access so you will have to man the drive."

She turned to Ace who seemed to be spewing out commands/system checks too fast for her to comprehend, "Is uh..he okay? Seems like he has a few wires loose?"

[Assistant]
Xael didn't seem to be bothered by the drop in temperature and simply watched Ursa's face as she navigated the ship. It would probably take 3-7 minutes to reboot the ship depending, though most times it never got to the 7 minute mark.

"I'm Xael. It's too bad this circumstance was how we'd meet. And it should take under 7 minutes to reboot. My ship is equipped with shield barricades and a small laser, which is mostly used for getting rid of small space rocks in my way. I've never had to use it for battle before. I will say though, I'm not the fighting type. So if escaping is the best option, I vote for that. I can control the drive if that's what's needed."

Xael looked at the spot on her hand in which Cel had kissed and a soft, pinkish hue shifted across her cheeks momentarily. She tried to ignore the look Ursa gave her though.

"We can go any place you all want or need to. I don't have anywhere to be."

[User]
Cel watched out the window as the scouting ships left the behemoth. If they found them, there would be some trouble seeing as the ship didn't have any defenses. "Whatever we do we need to figure it out quick. Those ships aren't going to just sit there and wait for us to make up our minds. As soon as possible we need to get those shields up for protection while we wait for the rest of the ship to boot up. Once we are capable of it too we need to get someone on the laser. It won't do anything to those ships, but it will scare them a bit to give us more time. Right now we have the element of surprise on our side. I know we're all a little shaken up from what we just saw, but we need to get our asses out of here. Orion, I need to you tell me everything you can about that monster out there..."

Right as Cel was about to say more, he started to feel an excruciating pain stab his head. The cold grip on his arm started to flow throughout his body which caused him to start shaking violently. The ship was already cold from the shut down, but this was like something he had never felt before. He could see the others looking at him in a concerned way. There was already to much going on for him to be getting sick now. Before any of them could say anything he turned around and left for the bathroom again. "If you'll excuse me. I need to deal with something." He said as he quickly fled the cockpit.

The chill in his body got worse as Cel was making his way to the bathroom. It was almost as if he was incased in ice then shoved into the depths of space. Once in the bathroom, Cel leaned over the toilet and vometed everywhere. This occurred three more times before he felt fine enough to stand up and clen himself off. He looked in the mirror and laughed a bit. "At least it didn't get in my hair." He ran his hands through the blond locks and noticed there were more black strands popping up. As he looked through more of his hair, he could see some of it change color. "What the fuck is going on with you?" He spoke quietly to himself. This was strange since this only ever happened when he felt stressed and even then it wasn't to this extent. As he looked closer, Cel could see a slight shimmer behind him in the mirror as if some one was using an invisibility mod. Cel spun around quickly and punched where the shimmer appeared, but nothing was there. Just air. He then turned back around to look in the mirror and the shimmer was still there.

Something slowly started to materialize into a gold like color behind him. It almost looked humanoid. This freaked out Cel and he quickly splashed hot water on his face. Instantly the freezing feeling stopped and the shimmer was gone. "Stupid nerves. Pull yourself together Cel." He slapped himself, flushed the toilet, then walked back to the cockpit. His hair still slowly turning black, but this was the least of his worries. If he was seeing things then there could be something major wrong with him. Either that or he was overly scared, which would just piss him off.

As Cel walked back into the cockpit, the others looked at him again. Ignoring their stares, Cel looked back outside to see what was happening. "So what's the plan then? Are we going to do what I said or do we have a better plan?"


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

[User]
Sayeeda gestured Taya back into the ship, the girl was quick to take advantage of the chance to get out of the potentially dangerous situation, all but running up the ramp. She might tell herself that she would be more useful inside the ship and maybe that was true, but truthfully Junebug just wanted her out of the way. There were a million ways this exchange could go wrong and shooting the Highlanders crew to save the forty million was both the most likely and the most difficult to avoid.

The aliens in the armor snorted and yipped at each other their communication undecipherable to human ears. Junebug watched them with studied boredom her plasma rifle cradled casually but within only a few degrees of the armored killers. In the ancient struggle between weapons and armor, weapons were currently in the lead. Nothing a man could carry would do much to stop a plasma bolt. Even ablative armor would transmit a bone shattering shock as the superheated plasma detonated on its surface. Powered armor was more effective and could be plated heavily enough to withstand the shock, but it sacrificed movement. Mechs and the like were more akin to light vehicles than armored infantry. Sayeeda figured if this went south she could take at least one and probably both of the alien gunmen down but it didn't mean she was eager to try conclusions. One of the creatures, sensing her regard made a crude leer running a purplish tongue over its fangs. Sayeeda winked without allowing her face to lose its bored expression, gannering another burst of garbled alien chittering.

Further by play was interrupted by Neil returned carrying the small chest in which the *BLANK* was stored. The guards and the young woman who was apparently going to perform the assay quited in anticipation. The pilot set the case down on the grease stained floor and flicked both the latches open with a theatrical flourish.

"Behold!" he cried, throwing the lid open and posing dramatically. The soft glow of the *BLAN* pulsed from within the chest, illuminating falling dust motes in its pure light. Neil looked a little crestfallen.

"No one appreciates a show," he muttered. Sayeeda noticed that his revolver was tucked into his belt, within easy reach for a quick draw. Apparently she wasn't the only one concerned about the number of ways things might go wrong. The woman, Junebug never got her name, pulled a bulky but portable scanner from a bag and ran it over the *BLANK*. For an endless minute the machine beeped and whired before the aide, or whatever she was, finally tucked the scanner away.

"It appears to be genunine," she said, her voice a little to netural to be believable.

"Where did you say you got it from?" she asked. Junebug rolled her eyes.

"We stole it from the Pirate King and he is going to sail his fleet of dreadnoughts in here and wreak horrible vengeance on whoever holds the cursed treasure. Anyone who toucheth it wilt surely perish excetera and if this is the part where you try to talk us down from our price because its soooo dangerous, then you can just be on your way and we will find another buyer," Junebug sneered. The aliens stiffened, gripping their weapons. Junebug negligently lifted her rifle to point at the closes gunmen though her face still appeared bored rather than threatening. The aides face was dark with an unpleasant emotion.

"Very well, we will pay your asked price, but you should know that…"

"Yeah yeah, no one disrespects the boss, we get it," Junebug finished, lowering her rifle as the aliens took their own hands away from their weapons.

"Take the goods," the aide told the aliens.

"No," Junebug and Neil spoke simultaneously, paued to look at each other and then turned back to their guests.

"I know we are all friends and everything, you know you being infamous gangsters and we being some randoms who never made port here till yesterday, but just for the hell of it, lets assume we want to see the money before we hand over the goods."

"You are a very irritating woman Captain Cyckali," the aide said, clenching and unclenching her fists. Junebug smiled toothily.

"And just to be sure no one gets any weird notions, lets do the hand off somewhere neutral, one of those casinos should do fine."

"The Golden Nebula," Taya's voice sounded in her mastoid implant. The girl was good, listeninging into the conversation and doing her own research as she went.

"THe Golden Nebula, lets say three hours from now?" Junebug went on as though she had come up with the name.

"That is hardly enough time to get the money toge…" the Aid protested.

"Well then I guess we will have to take our bussiness elsewhere after…" the aide through up her hands in disgust.

"FINE!" she snapped and whirled on her heel, practically storming out of the building flunkies in tow. Junebug grinned, Neil gave her his 'what the fuck was that' expression as he pulled his revolver from his belt. She shrugged a little sheepishly.

"Sorry, it has been days since I shot anything, guess I'm a little tense."

[Assistant]
The Pilot laughed. "Don't worry, with our luck I'm sure we'll shoot something real soon." he said with a wink, snapping up the trunk and lifting up the near-priceless object. He shook his head as he relayed the scene that had just played out. "Acting like we'd just give them the stone. They idiots?"

"I think they think we're the idiots." Sayeeda said, hands on her hips.

"How could we be idiots? We have some fucking Aestimobium."

"And how did we get it?" She asked Neil, raising an eyebrow.

He sighed. "...By being idiots." Sayeeda smirked. Taya's voice rang over the comms. "If you two are done, let's get in here and discuss what exactly we plan on doing." The hanger was still empty, but Neil realized it was probably for the best they talked further inside. A devil in the back of Neil's head made him say. "Yeah, before the Captain shoots somebody." He felt a woosh of air behind the nape of his neck right as he leaped forward, and he ran into the Highlander with Sayeeda right on his heels until Neil spun and held the Aestimobium in front of himself. Sayeeda hid a smile, and just pointed at him.

He placed the mineral down on the table after she sat down, and he sat down too, thinking he was safe. The boot that stomped on his foot relieved him of such notions, but they were both laughing after Neil cursed. In a moment however, Sayeeda went back to business and began. "So..." she said, her tone brooking no room for anything else but making a plan worth executing. "we go to the Golden Nebula. Did either of you see any good places for guns to hide in the Cantina?"

"I could barely see anything." Taya said, the cloak that had been wrapped around her head now snug on her shoulders once more.

"There's probably plenty of places to the left when you enter, where the crowds and dancers are." Neil pointed out. "But on the right, the sit down bar and tables are probably where we'll do the transaction. We can't exactly flank or hide either, they've seen both of our faces and Taya isn't the best gun, no offense."

Taya's face gave a clear 'none taken, seriously' as if she wanted to be as far away from any gun as possible.

"Then we'll just need to sit in the corner near the door, and wait. Or if they already have a table for us, we don't sit next to each other." She said to Neil, and he nodded. They needed eyes everywhere. "Taya, give us your cloak." The girl blinked, but did as she was told, and Sayeeda wrapped it around the Aestimobium container.

Neil spoke up next. "They'll never guess we have a container now."

Needless to say, he had to dodge Sayeeda again.

[User]
The Golden Nebula was not what Sayeeda had imagined from a dingy crime world, though perhaps it should have been. Neoclassical dance music thrummed like a thunderstorm as they stepped through the security checkpoint and into the interior. Just as Taya had said the establishment employed sophisticated biometric scanners, though the expensive units were almost completely recessed into large palatial columns. The security was well armed and obvious but also clean enough to hint at respectability. Also, just as Taya had said, neither the Aestimobium nor the pair of pistols concealed beneath it triggered the sensors. One of the metals many properties was the release of energy in the form of radiation. The radiation was poorly understood but seemed to have no harmful effects on humans. Apparently it was also enough to smother the electronic signatures of the hardware. Sayeeda kept her face pleasant but she really wished they could have bought more hardware. In theory the weapon restrictions applied to their 'business partners' too, but Junebug was to familiar with breaking rules to put much stock in that slender protection.

"I still say we should have pulled a last minute move, somewhere I could have covered with a rifle," the mercenary griped. She was dressed in a skin tight body suit of dark gray, almost black synthetic polymer. It was the sort of thing that a jet bike rider might wear and was judged by Taya to be not too far out of the ordinary for the Nebula. The plus was that it let her wear combat boots, those these were new, black and buffed to a high sheen rather than her worn tan favorites. A band of black enameled metal encirled her brow, keeping her now almost shoulder length hair out of her face. She really needed to find time to get it cut, or at least buzz it so that her helmet would fit properly again.

"Will you give it up," the long suffering Neil responded as they ascended a broad stairway. The interior of the casino was massive and open. Games of chance of every conceivable sort ringed a huge central space. Not only the ground but the walls and ceiling were covered also. Antigrav plates had been installed to allow a guest to walk up the walls or over the ceiling. Bars and drinking establishments stood out like barbs on the wall and celing. THe central space was a vast zero gravity dance floor. Launch points were marked on the floor where the gravity was low enough that one could jump into the field. Smaller grav points flashed in and out of existance as bars of neon lights. Hundreds of people flipped and spun overhead, gyrating with wild excess that would have been impossible in normal grav.

"Whoa," Junebug said, impressed inspite of herself.

"Also what is this like nine dimensions of fire arcs to worry about? Remind me to kill Taya."

[Assistant]
Neil had managed to get together some of the scrap from within the docking bay, and after haggling a bit with the local populace, he managed to quickly fashion and weld some believable, makeshift armor and clothing to better blend in. Oh he'd did not look well off. The leather overwrapped plates of steel on his torso and the ragged workman's clothing made him seem far more like a high ranking junker ganger than anything, or perhaps a shoddy bodyguard to the far more impressive looking Sayeeda. But he certainly wasn't himself. He'd even gotten some soot and pressed it across his face to better give off a local impression.

"Yeah, no kidding," he mumbled in reply to the Captain's comment. He doubted anyone above them would be a good enough shot to actually attempt to take one, but still. It gave them a slightly more vulnerable feeling. Neil clutched the cargo he carried in his left hand a bit harder, and scanned the crowd for any signs of the meeting. It occurred to him now that they had not discussed with Gnorlaac's second on if they were meeting her specifically or one of Gnorlaac's other goons. Luckily, after a moment of searching they found her in the crowd at a table. Small wonder that every table that sat around her and her two guards were nearly empty, save a few bums that were either concealed hitmen or were too dumb to actually take a hint and leave.

"If she doesn't have the money, I don't even care if we get killed, she's going down." Neil said.

"Just keep calm." Sayeeda told him, though she sounded like she was on edge as much as he was.

"So, you decided to join us my... good friends." Yrla said once they had approached her, and she indicated for them to take a seat. If Neil had a knife he could cut the tension. He'd just need to settle for his loaded revolver if push came to shove. Neil pulled out a seat for Sayeeda, and when she seated he took his own seat. He saw Yria, Sayeeda, the guards, and two of the low class cantina residents eyes followed the wrapped container as he set it on the table.

"So...this is it?" the dark skinned woman asked, eyeing them suspiciously. "You know I'll need it shown to me."

"The money first." Neil said, causing Yria to give an incredulous laugh. Neil just grinned, speaking up. "You wire the money to us. We verify it. Once we have it, we give this to you. If you aren't satisfied, you can kill us." It was matter of fact and simple, but the 'killing them' part would not be so easy. In a crowded Cantina, even one owned by Gnorlaac, a firefight wouldn't be ideal. However, if Neil and Sayeeda planned on stealing from him, it would be justified, which meant in order for everyone to be happy, the deal would go as planned...