[System]
Appearance:
Tupp is, like any ratling, short, stout, and weaker than an average human, however, he carries himself with a confidence and bravado far beyond his stature. He is often seen smoking, drinking, or eating.

The most striking feature, besides his obvious mutant status, is the seemingly poorly kept prosthetic replacing his left leg. It creaks softly with each step, and is clearly starting to rust.
Age:36

Gender:Male

Former Occupation: Abhuman auxiliary
Equipment: 1 "Long-las" sniper rifle
1 set of ill-fitting flak armor
1 las-pistol
1 oversized camo-netting suit
4 "hot shot" power packs
Variety of snacks, cooking spices, smokeables
Notable Events: Tupp McKennan distinguished himself fighting a chaos incursion when he was cut off from his own squad while they were performing a scouting mission. Over the course of four weeks he hampered the advance and actions of the cultist force, sabotaging supplies, eliminating key targets, and killing enemy patrols and scouts. Tupp's luck and skill nearly failed him as he was hunted down by an ever increasing number of cultists, and he was nearly killed by enemy explosives. He was found by Imperium forces, half dead, buried in mud, and with a missing leg. However, thanks to his actions, they were able to successfully force back the enemy, and Tupp received commendations for his actions.

Time With Inquisitor:Tupp has spent a little time with the Inquisitor. Long enough for him to start raiding supplies when he thinks he can get away with it, and make passes at whoever he thinks he won't get in too much trouble for flirting with.

[User]
+ENVIROMENTAL UPDATE PROCESSING, OUTER SCAN AND DIAGNOSTICS PROGROMS RUNNING+

A distinct pattern of whirs and beeps could be heard emitting from the figure swathed in long, thick light red robes. The hunched figure stepped out of the transport with a series of audible and heavy clanks, signalling that he was most likely heavier than his size suggested. On his back sat a largely moitonless pack, a myriad of mechanical arms folded and dormant against it, save for one thick metallic limb ending in a powerful servo claw which held a data-slate before the figure with surprising delicacy as he scrawled over it with his organic left hand. His righthand was currently a simple three fingered 'hand'. It simply spun and whirred in place, largely idle. Cables ran from his back to what seemed to be a glowing panel sticking out from his chest.

+INITIAL SCANS COMPLETE. AIR - TERRAN ANALOUGE, NON-TOXIC, REDUNDANT SCRUBBERS DEACTIVATED FOR POWER CONSERVATION.+

A burst of binary emitted from his cyberneic throat, and behind him now walked two servitors. The braindead automatons each carried a pair of extremely large crates with Mechanicus seals on them and followed the Tech Priest closely. He saddled up alongside the Inquisitor as he spoke with the sisters. He scarecly gave the Sisters themselves a glance but lingered on their armour, weapons and vehicles for a short time before returning to his data-slate. It was impossible to tell however if he was even reading it, for his 'eyes' didn't move. Three bright green orbs could be seen beneath the hood where several large cables ran into, as further bursts of binary mixed witht he whirring and beeping of his systems as he ran his routine checks upon landing

+GRAVITY LEVELS - 97% SURFACE GRAVITY COMPARED TO TERRA. 22% TO MARs.+
+PLANET CLASSIFICATION - SHRINE WORLD+
+OXYGENATION OF-+
+NATIVE TOXIN COUNT 8-+
+ATMOSPHERIC DENSITY OF-+

He largely ignored the stream of new data, having loaded much of it into his cogitators already, but letting his mechanical parts acclimate from both pre and post landing was a redundant if extremely important ritual for him. He largely ignored the gunfire and general chaos, aside from noting calibers, likely makes, weapon origins, and the myriad of violations to holy machines he could see in the immediate area. The Arbites had illegally modified their Taurus to increase its speed as well as attaching further, non-regulation armoured plating. All minor, all things he would bring up as soon as the opportunity presented itself. Machine spirits must be livid. As the Inquisitor and Sister spoke his cogitators picked out anything interesting or of even minor use to him. Notes about a possible cult, meaning a high likely-hood of illegal Tech heresy, as well as possible unique mutant specimens for study. He largely ignored the overal conversation, most if it largely pointless to him, aside from the names of those now missing in addition to the Inquisitor they had been sent to find.

As they were beckoned to board the Rhino's another burst of binary sent the servitors to the second Rhino to place and secure his precious cargo within. Ortiz himself accompanied the Inquisitor and sat directly next to him, still recording and analyzing the conversation around him. He largely disregarded the Inquisitors promise of safety, he knew the shpeell by heart seeing as he had recorded it the first time it had been uttered to him five years past. It was reassuring, but a sentiment Ortiz saw as unnecassary. His arrangement of sleeping quarters was... odd, and Ortiz made a memo to inquire further about it later during an examination. As the Inquisitor finished speaking the Tech Priest finally dayned to lift his head to the Sister Superior, a burst of binary filling the air before he seemed to pause, as if he were switching gears, before speaking in gothic tinged by and filtered through his vox. +I wil require several things in order to - 1. Aid in Inquisitor Karthis' investigation - 2. Provide medical services for him and other Inquisition personnel - 3. Continue my research. I will need access to all records available to you, as well as your medical facilities and a location to set up my laboratory.+, he paused again, as if cycling through to his next statement so unpractised he was at using it. +I am Genetor Ortiz Freelon, of the Adeptus Mechanicus - Sup division Adeptus Biologis.+, a short introduction no doubt added in the hopes of better speaking with non-Tech Priests.

[Assistant]
Elijah followed the Inquisitor out of the ship, and let him do the talking with the Sister Superior and the rest. He mindlessly nodded in agreement to whatever Karthis was saying to the Sister Superior, as he was too busy taking in the majesty and wonders of the Shrine World they just landed at. In all his (relatively few) years in the Guard, he never occupied a Shrine World before, he barely had any idea they were this breathtaking. To an Agri-Worlder, anyway.

Of course, his amazement was wrenched away from him when the sounds of autogun fire and the odd explosion reached his ears. Shoved back to reality, he reminded himself to check his lasgun when Sister Laedi was finished. When Ortiz was requesting a space for himself and his duties, Elijah made a mental note to ask the Tech-Priest if he was even doing his rites correctly. He was pretty sure he remembered the ritual for cleaning lasguns, but his Merovech pattern was unusual. It would be smart to ask from someone who knows what he's talking about if it perhaps required special rites and he's been doing it wrong the entire time.

Boarding the Rhino, he was mildly amused by the sheer size of it, both inside and out. He was quite used to the cramp interiors of a Chimera; it was a nice change of pace. Almost pleasant. He was particularly, visibly amused when he remembered that this is the exact same type of vehicle the Angels of Death rode about in when necessary.

He sat in Rhino alongside the Inquisitor, sitting on the opposite bench and facing the Inquisitor, the Vindicare Jessica, and the Genetor Ortiz. As everyone else was loading up, he decided to strike up some work-related conversation while inspecting his Merovech. Turning the safety on and preparing to eject its two power packs, he asked "Hey, do these Rhinos have Lasgun ports?" while he set the power-packs on his lap. Unscrewing the barrel, he continued onto the actual mission. "So, ain't meanin' to be rude or nothing, but we've any theories on what we could be goin' up 'gainst, Mister Karthis? I know our primary ob-ject-ive is to find this fellow Inquisitor, Valgone." Elijah began using a clean rag to wipe away at the barrel's focusing lens. "If he is... unavailable to continue his duties when we find out what happened to 'im, are we s'posed to finish his job for 'im? Don't mind, just wondering's all."

He shrugged when examining his work on the lens and began to screw it back in. "I ain't got any theories myself, I'm quite obviously new to this whole Inquisiting thing so's, I'm not gonna assume nothin'". He then set out to fulfill his mental note from earlier. "Hey, not trying to bother, Mister Freelon, but do these Merovech patterns require any special care or rites? It's obvious I gotta inspect two power packs and all that. But, if you got any expertise on the matter I'd like to be enlightened on anythin' else, if it ain't too much to ask."

[User]
The Squat yawning walked out of the ship, stretching his hands and by reflex his mechadendrite too. Eyes hazy, he looked at the Sisters of battle. "The nutters," he thought. He was quite faithful to the Imperial Cult, but anyone with five minutes outside of authority's influence would guess that, much less someone who grew up outside of direct Imperial authority. Lighting up a pipe and pouring down a bit of Lho-stick powder into it, he nodded approvingly at the shooting. A sign of soldiers not slacking, he thought.

 "Oh just mole-morta...." He started and nearly instantly stopped as the flame cult in the Executioner's Square came up. "You've been out of the guild for decades." he thought to himself. He really needed to work on getting those habits out of his system. Yankel would listen intently, and go into the Rhino as instructed. It seemed one of the members of the party was already talking to the Inquisitor, so the half-man would have to ask for slightly larger quarters later. His face would go into an expression of digust and contempt at the sight of the Tech-Priest. If he was like any other of his kind, they would not get along well.

 When the topic of sleeping quarters came up, he perked up. He had to ask the Inquisitor about some more room for his "projects." After all, the space for his tinkering is where the 'magic' happened. Besides, he need it for his personal... projects. The legacies of his people that he still had, and must work on. He knew he was speaking out of place, but better now than never. "Oh err, can I have some more space too? I need it for all the repairs and things I do, what." Finishing his words, he would let out a thin ring of smoke into the air, satisfied and lean back.

[Assistant]
Tupp McKennan strode from the ship, stopping a moment to take in his surroundings. With a sigh he took in his surroundings. He'd been to a couple shrine worlds once before in his days in the Guard. They didn't hold his attention long. This one wasn't much different, though his hopes were high for Sector 8. Tupp took a place next to his fellow abhuman, feeling a vague sense of camaraderie with the squat, despite hardly ever speaking to him upon the squat's joining of Karthis's entourage. Tupp hardly paid attention to the priests and pilgrims, but he watched the sister superior and her subordinates. Of course, he knew that the Emperor botherers were disdainful of his kind at the best of times, so he didn't say anything to draw their attention just yet.

Tupp, however, paid close attention to what was said, in case he would need to make use of the information. It seemed like he wasn't going to have any chance to 'investigate' Sector 8 as he had hoped. The fighting had already broken out, and he turned to face the sound of the autogun's sharp cracks in the air. 'Like being back with the regiment.' Tupp thought as he watched the Arbites vehicle speed off into the city. The familiar sound of Imperial Guard rocket launchers firing in the distance served to strengthen the comparison. He shrugged, uncaring about the fortified square. It wasn't his problem.

Approaching the rhino, Tupp smiled to hear he was under Inquisitorial protection. Immediately he produced several lho sticks, sticking one in his mouth and lighting it, before proffering one to the squat on his right, and another to the Vindicare nearby. He didn't believe for a second that either would take him up on the offer, but it was still best for him to take care of his own, however new they were. When they reached rhino, Tupp couldn't help but stare up, it towered over him, much more than even a chimera. Tupp shook his head and clambered in, finding a seat to pull himself up and into. Tupp could understand why the inquisitor would want such a thing as sleeping quarters. Even without it serving as a mobile command base, it's size was positively luxurious compared to the kind of places Tupp would usually be stuck in when he was in the guard.


[System]
Basics
Nickname/title: The Survivor

Gender: Male

Age: 46

Build/physicality: Frederick isn't an exceptionally tall man, being only a little above average for his time period at 5'10", but is well-built with a solid frame and fairly broad shoulders. An active and sometimes harrowing life has left him looking perhaps a little older than he should, and after his experiences a few years ago, he's not quite in the exceptional condition he once was; but he's fairly full of life, and is merely somewhat out of shape as opposed to having descended straight into being a slob. Besides his general condition, he has black hair and green eyes.

Appearance:

Background
Psychological status: Seemingly well-adjusted and altogether, but in reality deeply scarred and affected by what he's seen, holding himself together in a functional state out of a bizarre combination of relief that he survived and the fact his unconscious mind hasn't fully accepted those events. For however confident he seems in dealing with the otherworldly, he's liable turn into a dangerously unstable mess the moment he comes back into contact with anything of that nature. There also seems to be something a little more serious hiding beneath his self-deprecating nature.

Quirks. Ticks, Conditions, Sensitivities to the Paranormal: As mentioned, Frederick seems to be relatively at ease in dealing with the paranormal; but the closer he gets to something real, the faster that begins to unravel.

Magical potential: Seemingly none.

Personality: Outwardly, Frederick seems fairly warm, affable and approachable, the ideal small town Police Officer. Despite being quite a way away from home, he seems quite happy to be in Arkham, claiming the change of scenery is the best thing that could have happened to him, and being somewhat self-deprecative of his circumstances and other elements of his life. He's clearly been worn down by certain experiences, but nothing that seems to impede his day-to-day life; it would even seem that those experiences strengthened his will and ability to interact with the inhuman and otherworldly, making them more familiar to him than they would be to others.

In reality, his jovial persona, whilst not entirely disingenuous, is papering over the deep cracks those experiences have left in his mind. Whilst he can approach the otherworldly with a greater degree of confidence than others, he is liable to quickly become lost in it and begin his descent into madness anew; and when he does, all other manner of unpleasant things find themselves escaping through those cracks.

Hometown: Madawaska, Aroostook County, Maine.

Education: High-School Level.

Occupation: Former Police Officer, currently seeking to become part of University Security.

Achievements: High-School Graduate, achieved the rank of Sergeant in the Police Force prior to his leave.

Sexuality: Straight.

Religion/philosophy: Formerly Christian, currently Christian in spirit but unconsciously atheist. Keeps up the front of being Christian anyway.

Marital status: Single, Never Married.

Family status: His parents and siblings are still alive, and for the most part remain living in Madawaska. Any family in Arkham itself passed away over the course of the last few years, with them leaving him the house he's currently staying in.

Biographical writeup: Frederick was born in Maine, in Madawaska, Aroostook County, just shy of the border with Canada. His family had roots in Arkham, with his paternal grandparents having remained there after his father moved up north to marry his mother, and so he was used to the occasional travel along the East Coast to visit family. For the most part, however, he remained in the area around the small town he was born in; after leaving for a few years after completing his education to try and set up elsewhere, he returned to settle back down and began his training to become an officer of the law.

He served as a member of the Madawaska Police Department for just over twenty years, a career and a span of time that had him witness the major events of the early twentieth century from afar; whilst many of America's young, brave and bold were being mentally and physically destroyed in the the trenches, he was a man in his thirties getting on to a promotion to Sergeant, and by the time the Senate backed out of joining the League of Nations, he had his new badge. It was a fairly active life, regardless, but nonetheless it was a slow crawl through the years in a remote little town on the border.

Things wouldn't last that way, however. In the winter of 1923, he was called out to inspect reports of suspicious activity around a sawmill a few miles north of the town, only to find it deserted. Finding himself unable to bear the atmosphere around the place for more than a few minutes after he arrived, he began to withdraw in order to report in and return with greater numbers. But that dreadful atmosphere seemed to linger with him as he withdrew, and before long, he realized why.

He was being followed.

Whatever it was that he saw following him, he can't quite identify to this day; at least, not when he's in any sane or rational space of mind. All he can comfortably remember is that when he regained his wits several days later, he was lying half-naked a few miles out from the other side of town, seemingly unaffected by the bitter cold of the night he returned to lucidity in. Returning to town, he found that several others had vanished during his absence, so his return was accepted with relief rather than with overt suspicion as it might have been otherwise. Nonetheless, attempting to return to his job proved difficult, and he was advised to spend some time out of the state in order to collect his wits. Whilst not exactly a tourist hotspot, Arkham presented itself due to a house left to his family by his now-deceased grandparents, and the possibility of employment at Miskatonic University as a member of security; less stressful than managing affairs at home, he was told.

If only they knew.

Miscellaneous information
Combative belongings: A small number of standard-issue pistols kept from his time as an active officer of the law.

Noncombative belongings: A house inherited from his grandparents in Arkham, a collection of books from his travels and his inheritance.

Other information (optional):

Theme song (optional):

[User]
Emil

Emil looked through Steiner at the students waiting in line, thinking. How ironic this is. Or is it destiny? That his name, the one he's carried from birth, implies sinking, sinking, sinking... Fell into the world in a splash of red cries and immediately started sinking and does so to this day, professor Steiner. We all do, of course. Death being the bottom. But now we'll sink with him literally, too; towards that blurry place beneath the waves.  The receptionist counted, slid some coins across the counter onto his damp palm one by one and dropped them into the drawer with a ring of dirty copper hitting copper. Money, too. They used shells as money before. Wonder what we could buy down there with a handful of shells. Oh, yes, hello mister octopus; is the sea weed homegrown? What about this bizarre disformed fish that does not belong to our world? What did you say? Oh, miss octopus tended to it. I see. Give me half a kilo! And don't mind the price! It's not every day that we are expecting the end of humanity, is it? Thank you!

Steiner let go off his arm as he went on talking to Dupree. Emil could feel the ghost grip fade from his skin. Stone grip, professor. Perfect. We'll need to counter strangle the monstrous tentacles of the deep sea. He saw the three of them on a ship and the rootless limbs of the Kraken -- or something worse -- flying all over them, dripping with ooze and salt water, cracking masts and the deck to splinters. Screaming seamen chopping and slashing at the slimy surface of the beast with their knives, sinking them deep into the poisonous blood that fuels the creature. The elderly man who had paid the receptionist held his key and suitcase. He remained still, so persistently still that he managed to peak the interest of the bored receptionist, and that was an achievement in itself. The stranger's pale face had a drop of familiarity in it, but Emil could not pinpoint its source. He kept standing, his presence not allowing the receptionist to return to his yesterdays' newspapers.

"Professor Dupree," he said, turning his back to the strange old man; "with all due respect, I think we can bypass the old fashioned access, if you understand what I mean." His hands gripped an imaginary crowbar and jerked it as if to open some air door. It wouldn't be the first time I meddled with Atkins's office anyway. No need to be shy now. And we've already got an escape route covered. He remembered the steps he and Steiner had heard, those they chalked up to the police. Perhaps the same we heard in Faye's cell? Persistent bastards. "This excursion ends soon, I hope," he added, meaning the school trip to the madhouse. "Most of them will retire to the dorms, it should give us more freedom to... roam."

[Assistant]
Arthur Steiner

"Madness...of course. Dr. Gabrowski would be stupid to let somone who actually cares for these people in...wait, what did you just say?"

Arthur's face, just a few moments ago filled with curiosity, was now one made of confusion. His eyes staring down at Dupree - Professor Steiner was a tall man, quite intimedating to both new students and seasoned professors at Miskatonic -, shifting to look at Emil as the German student continued where Dupree had left off. The old man standing at the reception? Arthur didn't pay too much attention to him it seemed, only offering a brief glance before locking onto his colleague and student.

"If I had not been convinced that there was something incredibly strange going on these past events, I would have gotten you thrown out of the university and deported back to Deutschland yesterday, Herr Günther..." Arthur pulled out a handerchief from his pocket, wiping his forehead free from the beads of sweat dripping. Dr. Steiner, the man with the stone face and an iron will, was visibly shaken. Now the only thing remaining was for Hell to freeze over. "...but yes, that would be a preferable entrance. I think I shall have to tell you about our little...adventure of yesterday, Herr Günther and myself, but not here."

Arthur turned his head, looking over at the remaining group of students who seemed eager to get moving; the temperature of the whole fascility - The Eternal Prison of Lesser Men - had fallen quickly, and a few had been smart enough to 'forget' proper clothing. "Everyone! You are dismissed for now, return to Miskatonic and attend to whatever business you have until lectures resume after lunch. And don't you dare complain about colds or freezing feet, you all know perfectly well that it's winter!"

"Now what did you say about a place of secrets? Above and below water? I can safely assume you're not referring to Atlantis. Atkins dwelled more with the the abnormal cultures and religions; Ancient Greece is Professor Masters' area. So what could he mean by..."

Arthur started talking quietly to himself as he began walking through the reception and out into the cold winter air. A raven's kraa snapped Arthur out of his line of thought, his eyes locked onto the black messenger of Death fly away. "Come on then, let's not waste time. I have the nagging feeling that we'll not be alone there."

Next stop: Miskatonic University, where they would be met by more people, Companions, mysteries and madness, Agent Lichfield, and their next clue.

[User]
Mental State: Uneasy, but focus and resolve returning
Physical State: Wide awake and mostly healthy

"It's quite alright, no need to beat yourself up over it!" Frederick couldn't help but feel a little guilty himself as he saw the man retreat inwards a bit after his response. He still felt he'd made the right choice in turning down the request, but he supposed it wasn't a situation that most people knew how to react to; for whatever reasons he'd ended up coming to Arkham, he was still more mentally equipped to deal with the grim events at hand than most citizens would be.

The guilt didn't last too long, however; making a quick recovery, the man continued. Whilst he still seemed shaken, it seemed mostly physical; despite his profuse shivering, weak smile and the slow trickle of sweat down his forehead, his voice seemed fairly focused, if still strained. Frederick supposed the man was stronger mentally than he presented himself; and that was admirable in and of itself.

"Frederick Hughes- pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr Velera." With that, Frederick took the hand that was offered to him; whilst he supposed that Jeremy wasn't quite as skittish as he seemed, he also supposed that now would be an appropriate time to stop mentally dissecting him. Making a move to more pedestrian matters would help both of them, anyway. "As I'm said, I'm perfectly happy to accompany you to the other side of the campus- can't promise I won't get lost on the way myself, though!"

Well, maybe there was something to be said for keeping the analytical side of his mind active. Some well-timed humour could help put them both at ease.


[System]
Alias: Akuma no Kage ("Shadow of the Demon")

Gender: Male

Alignment: Helios

Skills: Expert in a variety of martial arts, including but not limited to Ju Jitsu, Ninjitsu, Aikido, Krav Maga, Tai Chi, and several specialized martial arts developed for use with guns.

Powers:
[Perfect Human]
Genetically engineered for perfection, 57 is a homegrown supersoldier. He was the only succesful genetically modified human, created through the manipulation of acquired stem cells. He is stronger and faster than any other man, with free-moving joints and highly advanced senses. His sense of smell is 200x better than that of a human, he can see in the dark, and he can feel electric fields similar to a shark. He can hold his breath for almost half an hour, and his skin is harder than kevlar. All human weaknesses have been eliminated, to create a soldier capable of taking on the meta threat.

[Mental Fortitude]
The reason 57 was considered the only successful supersoldier in the program is due to his mind. Whereas the others mostly ended up either as vegetables or as uncontrollable killing machines, 57 was manipulated by multiple metas from the moment of his creation. He feels no fear, and no pain, and has a rapid learning ability. He can read and memorize entire books worth of information in mere minutes, and rapidly adapts to any situation he's placed in. Furthermore, he displays absolute loyalty to Helios, and will follow commands from any officer he recognizes as his superior without question. The mysterious element, however, is that he has deviated from direct orders a number of times when a better method of reaching the goal was discovered, without being ordered to do so, displaying remarkable free will. He has also been trained to be resistant to the effects of most psychic metas.

Equipment:
[Ghost Exoskeleton MKII]
This suit was modified from standard stealth armor suits. The exoskeleton fits over 57's body perfectly, enhancing his physical capability even further, as well as being a highly effective suit of armor. Molecularly altered glass 'scales' absorb the kinetic force of any incoming attacks, providing complete protection from bullets and even hand grenades, while being lighter than any metal suit of armor. it's interfaced directly with 57's brain, forming a powerful neural link and responding instantly to his every thought. It's equipped with nanofiber grips, allowing him to walk on almost any surface using the attachable properties of nanofiber materials. Lastly, specialized cells can project complex patterns all over the armor, allowing him to blend into almost any environment.

[Artemis-class Railgun]
using complex magnetic manipulation, this handgun-sized weapon is capable of firing specialized bullets at speeds equal to mach 2.5 or higher, suprheating them with the mere friction. These bullets tear through metal plates and stone walls as if they were butter, and were designed to rip apart even lightly armored vehicles. Only 57's reinforced skeleton can handle the recoil. The only weakness of these powerful guns is that they need to be quickly reloaded after each shot, and the potential for overheating if used continuously.

An alternate model is the SO-Artemis-Class, which is the size of a conventional sniper rifle. It holds a series of far more powerful electromagnets, as well as an extended barrel to ensure long-range accuracy. It is equipped witha powerful scope, which can identify targets, calculate range, detect patterns of signals, and perform a variety of other tasks. This device is effectively a far more powerful version of it's handheld predecessor, capable of firing a shell through multiple steel wall and with a nearly unlimited range. A sniper weapon of unprecedented lethality.

[Shiro Segi]
This modified katana, named 'White Justice' has a monomolecular edge, formed from molecularly altered diamond. The main blade is formed from the same altered glass his armour is made of, arranged in places instead of scales in order to remove the flexibility. It's highly transparent, and yet sharp enough to cut through steel like butter, especially when backed up with the strength of an exoskeleton. When powered, the blade vibrates at supersonic speeds, allowing it to function like a highly effective chainsaw. Almost no material is capable of stopping the weapon's swing when it's powered up.

[Fusion Explosives]
Utilizing what is effectively a miniature fusion generator, these grenade-sized weapons can pack an incredible punch. Whereas they're incredibly stable, when they're detonated they're capable of a 3 kiloton explosion, similar to the detonation of 100.000 kilos of tnt. It's the impact of a cruise missile, capable of ripping apart entire structures with ease. It's definitely not intended for close range, which is why they come with timers, and only 57 can throw them far enough to make them useful. Anything within the blast radius is completely destroyed.

Personality:
Cold and calculating, 57 does what he was designed to do. Although he is capable of far more free will than his designers suspect, he considers Helios to be his 'father', and is utterly obediant. He honestly believes that Metas will destroy the world if they are allowed to be set loose, and acts with the intention of making the world a better place. His motto is 'absolute power corrupts absolutely', referring to the supernatural capabilities of metas. Little does he know the irony of this statement.

History:
Through a variety of operations, 57 has earned a name among Helios operatives as the Shadow of the Demon. He's both feared and respected as one of the most effective, and dangerous, operatives Helios has. He's also well known for instantly cutting down anyone who acts against Helios on the field, making no distinction between friend or foe. Whenever 57 is deployed, every soldier knows that there is something far more terrifying behind him, then there could ever be in front of him.

Appearance: 57 is tall and heavily muscled, with deep red eyes and dark brown skin. He has no hair, as hair was considered unnecessary for his function as a soldier. When not on the field, he wears a deep grey jumpsuit, and large black combat boots. A knife is always kept in the hilt, it's blade formed from altered glass.

[User]
Arcanus would continue his work for a while, submitting the designs for the new RAVEN and OWL lines to Aetius. He was cunning, Resourceful and innovative. However, he took pride in all of his creations, as he put his heart and soul into creating them all.

Of course each one had a slightly different personality due to the whole shared mind thing. However, one of his pets expressed much more personality than the others, this one he called Serina, and she was one of the dreadnaught types. He kept her as his personal servant and companion, as well as a bodyguard. Of course, she was the first. The first thing he ever created as a teen, from all of that energy rose a personality as human as anyone else, but she also retained qualities of a cat where it presented her an advantage. She was loyal to Daniel, and where his loyalties lied, so did hers. "Father, I am wondering when we will get a field assignment." She says. Yes she always referred to him as "father". "Soon, Serina, Soon." Daniel says, reassuring his creation. Of course he forgot his comms were still open so everyone on the frequency probably heard all of that.

[Assistant]
Aqua stares up at the tall building, looking at it curiously. She has been here only twice before. Once was for her father's funeral and another time was for a job from one of the lower employees. But this time she had big game asking for her. She smiles carefully and walks inside.

Inside is pretty clean and barren, nothing like the hills of the Freedom Fighters. She looks around a notices a secretary sitting down near the front of the building. She walks over to her and says, "I'm here for a meeting with Aetius."

"He's busy," the secretary says without looking up. Aqua sucks in her cheeks and quietly sets her pistol down on top of the desk. This gets her to look up at her and the secretary pales.

"I'm here for a meeting with Aetius," Aqua says more slowly. "Page him and tell him that the bounty hunter is here." The secretary nods and begins to page Aetius.

[User]
Magi continued walking up the road, eventually reaching a small crater with robot parts scattered around it. The smell of oil and burned iron lay in the air. He noticed a small stain of red on the ground and kneeled down, touching his fingers to it. Blood, slightly sticky still. There had been a fight, and he was guessing the person fighting the hunters barely made it out alive. He stood and turned his head to the right, searching for more drips of blood in the fading daylight. He scanned the area, hardly able to see the ground in the dimming daylight. He held his palm up beside him "Lux" he said, a orb of light appearing hovering slightly above his palm. To the right, going towards the Sea of Trees he saw nothing. He turned to the left, towards the Emerald Coast. He crouched, surveying the ground with his orb. It was faint and scattered, but he saw red amongst the green blades of grass. He stood and walked, perhaps if there was a injured person, they could pay him to heal them. He followed the trail of blood drops, easily illuminated by the orb. Eventually reaching a flattened area of grass, blood staining the middle. Judging from the crater he thought of two options: One, The person managed to drag their-self this far and collapse. Or Two: The explosion that created that crater flung them a few yards to here. Either way, where were they now? He turned in a circle slowly, once again surveying the area with the orb.

Treading North-West from the patch of grass, was a trail stained with a blood smear and flattened grass. Perhaps the animals had gotten to them before him? He followed the trail a few feet before it stopped, as if they had simply disappeared. That, however, he knew was impossible. He crouched once more, surveying the ground for signs of what happened, where they went.To the North-East of where the trail stopped he could faintly make out a blood drop, shining against the light. Standing, he continued to follow. He was curious, perhaps the animals did get them, tore them to pieces and ran back off to the trees.

He followed the trail closely as it veered, circling slightly. As if someone was trying to hide something, or the animal got confused. He continued walking, staring at the ground so as to not veer from the trail. Eventually it stopped, and dubly so, he smacked his head right into a door. He stared at the door, iron. So, someone intentionally drug the person here. Not someone, more than one person. Either that or he staggered to here, but yet there was no signs to indicate he did. No blood on the door, none but a drop or so on the ground.

He knocked on the door, possibly not the best decision, given the fact this could very well be a gang hideout. On that, he held his left hand out to his side "Pugione" a dagger appearing. Should someone bust out of the door to attack him, he'd be ready.

[Assistant]
57 stood in the centre of a circle of corpses. The bodies of those that would have stood against the arm of Helios lay around him, their deaths brought about by their own ignorance and hate. Their skulls would pave the way to a better future for mankind, a world in which violence wasn't necessary, and people like 57 didn't exist. Looking down at his handiwork, the slaughter of five men, two women, and one child, the bionic weapon felt not a shred of remorse, only happiness that he had once again served the common good. While he had quickly dispatched of the meta - minor level pyrokinesis - the others had had plenty of time to speak before they had died, and with their last words they, too, served the greater good.

No longer bothered with stealth, 57 sent automated instructions to the security drone high overhead. It would move down and collect the bodies, the meta would serve as another research subject for the great Helios lab-systems. The others would be turned to fertilizer, their very flesh serving to feed those they themselves had sought to endanger. In the end, willing or not, all fools would find themselves in the service of good, guided by the loving hands of Helios.

Walking through the streets, 57 opened a private communications channel to Aetius. 'I found a sparrow. Requesting permission to deploy and annihilate.' the sparrow, of course, was not really a sparrow. the intel he had received pointed towards a particular prominent base of operations from the Metahuman Revolution. Opening a secure comm link to Arcanus and Tyler, he was already planning a battle strategy. 'I got confirmation of Tyler's intel of a base nearby. Arcanus, deploy my suit, and prepare drones for stealth bombardment.' Arcanus would know what drones would be most appropriate for the task at hand, there was a reason he was in charge of them after all. And giving orders to Tyler was pointless, ever since reaching equal rank with 57, he had been impossible to control. Then again, there was no denying that he was good at what he did.

Moving into the Helios base, where he knew both Tyler and Arcanus would gather, he raised one hand. Instantly, every soldier in the hall saluted, as was proper protocol when a high-ranking officer entered the area. Whilst other officers might discard such protocol, 57 was one to stick to the rules, and he enforced protocol strictly. He had also heard something rather interesting, however. Once more he opened the secure com to Aetius, mere seconds after the first burst of communication and before the leader had had time to respond. 'There appears to be a bounty hunter here to see you. She's clearly a skilled warrior. Is she confirmed to be here?' The unspoken implication was clear to any familiar with 57's modus operandi. If she had no reason to be here, he would have her killed right here, right now.

If Aqua were to turn around, she would be faced with a rather intimidating sight to match the disciplined, deep voice. Standing at almost 2 meters tall, 57 cut an imposing figure, every inch of him covered in muscle. His onyx-black skin made the charred skin on his cheek nearly invisible, but only served to accent the grey body suit he was wearing, and the blood splattered on it. Two bright red eyes looked down on the figure, ready to react to any offensive move or word, and eliminate her with extreme prejudice.


[System]
Age: 320

Sex: Male

Race: Human/Godslave/British-Chinese Mix

Height: 5'8"

Weight: 210 lbs.

Physical Description: Shin is a man of average height, however, that is the only thing average about him. Beneath his clothing is a body coated from top to bottom in thick scar tissue, this tissue hides an inhumanly fit body. His shoulders are rather broad, though not unnaturally so. Should one see behind his mask they would see a hand shaped scar on his face, splitting his top and bottom lip and crossing over where his right eye used to be. This has left Shin with a heavily cleft lip and an empty eye socket that is covered with a sewn on black patch.

The handprint overlaps his hairline and leaves two large chunks of hair missing from the right half of his head. The hair that isn't burnt off is kept cropped shortly to his head, and is slightly greyed from stress. Rather than from age.

Shin dresses simply, a pair of creased black pants adorns his legs. The cuffs are damaged just slightly from wear and tear. He wears a long sleeved, button up, cuffed and collared shirt. It is tucked into his pants. Over the shirt is a brown button up vest. Well polished black shoes with pointed tips, plenty of wear on the sole but no scuffs on the leather.

Adorning his head is a black iron mask with several leather straps that hold it into place. Behind the mask you can see his left eye, the sclera of it is stained red from an eye injury in the past. It is perfectly shaped to cover his face, carved to square out the shape of his head and give him an almost alien appearance. There is only one hole in it, the eye hole that is bored at an angle to give him total peripheral vision with his remaining eye.

Psychological Description: If you met Shin in a normal social situation, where he was wearing his usual prosthetic face mask, you would believe that Shin is a man who has moved past an extensive series of unfortunate circumstances. Should you meet Shin in your bedroom, in the dark of night, you would believe that he is a psychopath who chose to kill you at random. However, if you had the unfortunate circumstance of meeting Shin on the field of battle? You would believe that you have entered the domain of a god of war, Shin's very presence is oppressive.

Every word that he speaks oozes an almost liquid resentment, thinly veiled behind a mask of niceties. Shin speaks with deliberate pause and force, making it seem like he knows exactly what's going on at all times.

Shin is aggressive, blunt, and only lies when it's necessary to facilitate his survival. In combat, he will shift from a polite fellow who seems to only fight for the purpose of fighting, to a despicable sadist who teases you about every mistake that you make.

All of this, because Shin is obsessed with killing. The sacrament of spilling blood, nothing leaves him with a more chilling and electrifying feeling than to let the life slip from his most recent target. If his foe fights with enough fervor, he can sometimes lose himself in the ecstasy of bloodlust. Falling into throes of lavish excitement and fury, Shin relishes nothing more than bloodshed.

And Ladies, he's single.

Abilities:
Mystical-
Biological Immortality: Granted to him by his godly master, Shin's body has become immune to the effects of aging and disease. Every cell in his body is cycled out as soon as they die, allowing his body to survive grizzly wounds and not fear the consequences of death unless Shock were to set in. Shin has no true regenerative factor, only an accelerated scarring. Meaning that bleeding out is impossible, but so is regrowing limbs. Most of his biological functions are no longer necessary, except for eating and drinking. He does not need to breathe, though it helps to center him. He does, however, still need to breathe to talk.

Now, unlike true immortality, Shin's body can still die. He just can't die from age or illness.

Physical-
Durable Hide: Hardened through innumerable battles, countless scars, and endless regrowth. Shin's skin has become hardened to the same density and strength as leather. This allows him to survive significantly greater beatings than normal men. His skin is as course and rough as the hide of an armadillo, and his hands are as hard as ram's horn.

Beyond Peak Human Ability: Shin's body has been tempered with countless years of training, without the ability to age or succumb to exhaustion he has gone beyond the limitations of Human ability. Able to lift 1,000 lbs with a great deal of effort, easily lifting 800-900 lbs. His muscles are toned beyond those of even the most professional fighter. Able to sprint at 45 mph, he can cross huge tracts of land faster than any mortal man.

Accelerated Reflex: Shin's reflexes are four times as quick as any normal man's, allowing him to react to stimuli so quickly that most people can't actually see it happen.

Mental-
Accelerated Thought: Shin's thoughts come at nearly four times the speed of a normal human, critical on the fly analysis in combat is his forte. Able to know where an enemy is going before they arrive, spot subtle differences in behavior, and calculate just how much weight to put behind a strike. On the battlefield, tightly controlled thought patterns and behavior are key to survival.

Instant Sight: Shin's singular eye is blessed with a great power, though to some it may seem useless. To Shin it one of his most invaluable assets. Shin's eye can keep track of objects moving faster than his own thoughts, the only thing that outstrips his sight is Mach 5 and higher.

Equipment: Where Shin would normally wield the black staff, he has accidentally disarmed himself. Instead, he has armed himself with a Kusarigama.

Boron Steel Kusarigama: A sickle with a deathly sharp blade adorning it, it is a foot long cylindrical handle with a grooved grip. Wrapped tightly in leather. A long steel chain rests at the bottom with a heavy steel weight with a lead core at the end. Making it a perfect combination of melee and ranged weaponry.

Black Iron Mask: To hide the grizzly scar upon his face, Shin wears a mask cast from a civil war era cannon ball. The mask has just one eyehole, on the left side. As his right eye does not exist anymore. Its weight is laborous, strapped to his head with four leather bands. The weight serves as a reminder to why he is immortal, and as a reminder of who gave him his scar. Its also a decent shield for his face, protecting him from gunfire and the like.

[User]
From the comfort of his private chambers he was mystically deposited into a gorgeous purple landscape, a vast stretching locale where the sands and surf brushed across his shoes. The beautiful scenery was greatly offset by the unsettling color, this was definitely not a main sequence star. Or worse, the atmosphere was filled with toxic gases like Neptune. Not problematic for someone who doesn't exactly need to breathe, but toxic atmospheres would kill his opponent before he got the chance to. Which wouldn't be fair at all. With a testing inhale, Shin checked to see if the air tasted strange, to his surprise it was just normal air. A relief, to be sure, if the terrain killed his opponent than there would be no fun to be had.

Another offsetting feature was how heavy he suddenly felt, it was as though his clothes were training weights, his weapon tugged sharply on his belt loop. An uneducated man would think that he's being pulled on by some magical force, and they wouldn't be too far off. Gravity here was stronger than earth, judging how much stronger would be a chore left for a scientist not an assasin. The shift in his weight was unsettling, had they seen his previous victory as too swift and sent him to a place where he would be forced to move slower?

Maybe it was just happenstance, and his accusations of unfairness were just conjecture, but there was a definite problem in this much heavier atmosphere.

As he stood there, scanning the horizon for his opponent he grew increasingly uncomfortable in his significantly heavier clothes. Shin groaned and began to unbutton his vest and undershirt, they were tugging on him too much and they would only serve as a distraction. After a few moments of working he removed most of his outfit. Starting with the vest and long-sleeve undershirt, then his belt, then socks and shoes. Leaving his pants on because they didn't hinder his legs as much as the rest. He left his mask on, despite it being the heaviest piece.

Once he had disrobed and folded his clothes in a neat pile on a nearby boulder, Shin turned back around and stretched a bit. Still scanning the area for his new foe. "Where is my competition, eh skeleton man?" Shin muttered under his breath, assuming that they could hear everything he spoke. The assassin didn't want a repeat of last time, where he just stood around for a few minutes.

[Assistant]
"Oof." Metz shoulders sagged and his knees shook as the intense gravitational force of his new surroundings almost floored him. His eyes widened in alarm, unintentionally taking in the terrain and finding it odd beyond belief, yet somehow eerily familiar. His body was still in a strange state of limbo, tired, yet somehow finding itself perfectly restored, and the oddness of that feeling gave him the required strength to hold himself up as he stood there, his pale angular face drawn back and worried. The vest and under layer over and under his green jumper were weighing him down, but he was unwilling to remove either item, relying instead on his athleticism and naturally strong bones to sustain his weight until he had to do anything particularly strenuous. He seemed at first glance to be alone as he stood there, once again fully equipped with pistol, knife and vials, his feet sinking into the sand of the lake's edge. Spreading out before him almost as far as his eye could see was a strange coloured mass of water, and with that thought he slowly grew aware of what was causing his unease, everything around him was of an unnatural hue.

"This place…" He muttered "Is beautiful."

He was breathing, if with a little more difficulty than usual, so wherever he was the necessities were the same. Still, gravity was stronger in the place he had found himself, and that could be evidence of further oddities that could inconvenience him and his fragile biology. For a moment he considered drinking mana, hanging the consequences, and clearing the air around him to ensure his safety. However, the forces of fairplay he had seen at work thus far suggested to him that while he may be disadvantaged, it would be unlikely that his surroundings would outright end his life, which was not part of what seemed to be Skallagrim's plan. What Metz had not been able to take advantage of however, was the opportunity to see his enemy's skills and abilities, as he had been taken up with repairing the damage done to his arm. It was a disadvantage he was unaware of.

Though Metz was not yet in the water, he was essentially on the edge, and the fumes were entering his lungs with each breath. He looked around, and with no evidence of any opponent as of yet, he began to walk with the lake on his right hand side, essentially circling the water-mass clockwise. It was only a matter of time, or so he assumed. More violence, but the ends justified the means, oh yes indeed.

[User]
Turning his head back and forth across the water's edge seemed to work out perfectly, there was a figure a few hundred feet away from him. There was water between them, and diving in was not going to happen any time soon. Swimming here might be suicide, as your paddles might not overcome the force of gravity pulling you to the bottom. Water pressure would also prove to be another huge problem, you'd die of being crushed before you drowned. Not a pleasant end, and maybe exactly how he'd kill his foe. With a sluggish first step, Shin began walking along the edge of the water as well. Withdrawing his weapon from his belt loop and letting his arm hang with it, testing the weight by swinging it back and forth.

Not too much deviation from the norm, he was adjusting fairly quickly to the difference in weight. It wasn't the first time that he'd been weighed down, he commonly trains with weights on his body. Nothing about this situation was too difficult to handle, aside from the wide sweeping motion he was forced to walk in. If he didn't spread his weight out evenly he would sink into the sand, an unfortunate side effect of being this heavy.

Not knowing the effects of the water, but knowing that wet sand holds less weight, Shin walked a solid five feed away from the water's edge at all times as he made his way towards the mage. He was definitely not the dogman, that was for sure. No tail or elongated face, so he was human. No wings or black cloak either, so this was the mage from the battle that ended so abruptly. He had only caught a glimpse of his ability, a single spell. Lighting. Which was bad news if he was incredibly competent in lightning magic. Lightning moves faster than he does, it also moves faster than he can see. There was no way he could counter it, except pressing the assault as hard as he possibly could before the lighting could hit him.

I can deal with lightning mages though, unless they can project it from their whole bodies. Learn how they cast it the first time, and then predict when they're going to cast it again. Watch for hand movements, eye motions, and other bodily tells. Magic is powerful, I've seen it first hand. But predictable, to say the least. Already planning his victory, Shin was closing fast on Metz. They would be face to mask very shortly, and the battle would begin again. As the distance grew ever shorter, the assassin gained a visible bounce to his step. An excited little pop with every step.

Bloodlust boiled inside of him, with one kill under his belt today he was looking to have a second. What a day, what a lovely day.


[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]
"It's a difference of priorities," Vail exhaled as Victoria took his earlobe between her teeth. With his bloodlust satisfied, there was nothing left to distract him from the beautiful woman sitting on his lap. Her teasing smile and playful nibble caused a different kind of lust to surface, and he sensuously followed the curves of her hips and waist with his hands. "My kind lives far longer than yours, so our instinct to preserve life is stronger than our desire to procreate," he explained thoughtfully, reflecting on the lessons he had been taught by Reginald and Peter. "Assuming I'm not killed, I'll be here for centuries while humans rarely see more than eight decades. Because of that, I don't have the same urgency to have children as mortal men do, and my drive to keep myself alive by drinking blood is far higher. It has nothing to do with how I feel about you."

It was also why violence between vampire clans was so devastating. The reign of the Hygraces had helped their population stabilize, because they had acted as protectors of their kind whenever the Order struck, but if they dissolved into squabbling amongst each other, the Saints wouldn't even need to lift a finger against them. They would destroy themselves.

Idly, he wondered if their lower libido was also related to the fact that they could add to their numbers by turning humans with a bite. Since the ritual was no longer widely used, his family had never listed it as a method of procreation, but it seemed logical to him that they wouldn't have as much of a need to bear natural children if there was a more convenient way to go about procreation. The only reason they didn't do it that way anymore seemed to be because of their evolving view of humanity. If looking at mortals as more than just prey was discouraged, he could only image that adopting one into a pureblooded family line would be considered abominable.

When Victoria leaned her head on his shoulder, Vail rested his cheek against her hair. "If you don't believe me: Before you came along and seduced me at The Shire," he squeezed her in a hug as he teased her in return, "I hadn't been with a woman since the 1700's." Not to say that the thought had never crossed his mind. There had been a few vampires who had caught his eye over the past two centuries, but after the novelty of intimacy had worn off, he was no longer interested in meaningless flings. He had been content with his solitary life, and it hadn't been until Lady Crest had streaked her lips with blood that his dormant carnal appetite had been rekindled.

At her request for her reward, the Hygrace heir smiled and turned his head to murmur in a low tone in her ear, "I think you do." Reaching up to her chin, he coaxed her to turn toward his face with a touch of his finger and kissed her deeply as he held her close to himself. His hands wandered over her attractive body, tracing her soft skin beneath the water, but before he could push to escalate things, he paused as his father's words came back to him. He still wanted to have her, but he didn't feel right about doing so when only one of them was aware of the possible consequences.

Pulling back from her lips, he cleared his throat and met her gaze. "Before we do this, you should know something," he said slowly. "I found out recently that it's possible for vampires and humans to conceive across species. I don't know much about it, but I want to make sure you're comfortable with the possibility that we could… that you might become pregnant if we keep sleeping together."

[Assistant]
She was surprised he hadn't been with a woman in such a long time. It all made sense to her now. A vampire's priority was to prolong their already long life rather than to procreate and pass on their DNA like humans had a natural base instinct to. Not that it was a priority for Victoria, as she had never really thought about having children or even the real need to. She was content enough with her life before the dangers to take up motherly duties. Now with the impending war with the Wynters and The Order, she was in very real danger. It wasn't safe for her to bring a child into the world. Then again, if it were Vail's child. It would be half vampire…and a Hygrace.

She pulled back and blinked at Vail a couple of times. "They…can?" She sounded shocked at being told vampires and humans could breed together. She supposed they were not that different anatomically. "I didn't know…" She backed away slightly. Her mother could have saved her from any risk by telling her that it could happen, then perhaps she wouldn't have been so eager to seduce the man. All she saw was someone to connect to on a physical level, not to procreate with so soon. This was why usually couples were married before they had sex so that when the woman ended up pregnant, it wasn't looked at as scandalous. But if Victoria were to become pregnant accidentally, there would be more than human gossip to worry about. Vail's father would be even more furious, despite Vail being the only son he had to give him grandchildren. He may not accept a half breed into his family. It was worrisome to think about.

She sighed. "Then I could already be pregnant. It's too late to tell me now." As it took four to six weeks before a woman got the symptoms of morning sickness and lateness to her periods, Victoria was just about on that timescale since their night at The Shire. She figured she wouldn't have her usual period after her blood drain, there wouldn't be anything left to produce more blood, her body would conserve it. Not to mention her recent stress, which also affected a woman's cycle. She felt so stupid, not thinking about this risk before. She looked at Vail with a hint of worry. What if she was already? What would they do? How would they cope? "I….never really thought about having children anytime soon, however it wouldn't be the end of the world if I did. But I suppose this new information does change things…" She sighed slightly. Not that she wouldn't want to have his child, but they weren't exactly approved of as a couple and wouldn't even have their marriage sanctioned.

Victoria gazed into Vail's eyes sadly, her blue pearls twinkling in the soft candlelight. "And what about you Vail…? Would you be alright with it if I did become pregnant? Your father hates me enough as it is, I cannot see him allowing you to have a child with me..." She reminded him of the obvious, but would Vail see it that way – a child would be an unnecessary burden upon his family. Or it could be the thing that united them depending on circumstance. She just didn't want to end up as a single mother with Vail visiting her and their child once a month and being married off to another female vampire. Or even worse, ignored completely and cast aside with her bastard half breed child and kept a secret from every other Hygrace there was. At least if they decided not to sleep together anymore, Vail wasn't a man hell bent on sexual desire and could easily live without it.

[User]
Vail nodded his confirmation when Victoria questioned him in surprise. He had been just as unprepared when Peter had told him that vampires and humans could reproduce together a few days ago. It was something he wished they had known earlier, especially when they had already slept together twice without any thought of the possibility that their actions could bring a new life into the world. He didn't regret taking the plunge from predator and prey to lovers, but as one who preferred to have all the information he needed to make an informed decision before acting, it had been shocking to find out belatedly that they might face an unexpected consequence because of what they had done.

It was also true that it was too late to tell her when she may have already become pregnant. The thought made him feel woozy. He didn't know if human women experienced pregnancy the same way his kind did, but he was aware that it took time before symptoms appeared in both of their species. The prospect of having children of his own had never crossed his mind since he hadn't planned to take a wife until he took over as the next head of the Hygraces and needed to name a successor. Even when he had been young and experimental, it hadn't been difficult to avoid the narrow window of time in which a vampire could be impregnated. If he and a female immortal had wanted to be intimate, they could tell by the strength of her pheromones if she was fertile or not. According to his father, though, mortal women were fecund far more often than their undying counterparts.

When Victoria asked if the risk changed anything for him, Vail remained quiet. There was a lot to consider. First and foremost, she was right that his father would never approve if they conceived a child together. He hadn't heard of another instance in which a human and a vampire had offspring—it was why he had assumed it was impossible—but now, he wondered if there were none because the clans refused to accept half breeds among their ranks. As long as the Order was hunting them down so viciously, it was nearly impossible for a vampire to survive without the protection of their family too. Any children they had would be cast aside as anathemas, and if he chose to side with them, it was likely that he would be exiled as well. It wasn't exactly an appealing future.

And then there was the matter of what would happen to Lady Crest. Even if she wanted nothing to do with Lord Spencer, the fact remained that she was still engaged to marry him. If word got out that she was pregnant with another man's child—and a Wynters' rival, no less—he couldn't imagine that the other vampire would just stand by without taking out his anger on her. They would have to flee London to protect her from his wrath. Going it alone would be their only option. No matter how he looked at it, their already difficult lives would just become even more dangerous if they had a child now.

"That's… hard to answer," he finally spoke as he mulled over the dilemma in his head. "If you became pregnant, I can't think of a way it would end well for us. As you said, my father would never approve of any children we may have. I would probably have to forfeit my inheritance, and we would have to be on our own…" He sighed. "But, I still want to be with you, and this is a risk that isn't going to disappear by itself. I may not be as sexually driven as a human man, but I still love you." He wrapped his arms around her to close the distance she had formed when she'd pulled away. "I don't to spend whatever time we have left keeping you at an arm's length because of something that might happen. I understand if this is a fire you don't want to play with, but if you still want to be with me, then I'm willing to move forward… We'll just have to be a little more careful from now on." He offered her a half smile. "No matter what, I'm not going to leave you, Victoria. I'll do whatever I can to be there for you because you're mine."


[System]
Nickname: The Gentleman Mage

Race: Human

Age: 25

Gender: Male

Appearance: Slim and lanky, Dren has short grey hair in an unkempt style, usually hidden by his hat. His hands bear a number of small scars and burns from his alchemical work. His eyes are an emerald green. He also bears a number of small cuts on his chest and stomach from a number of alchemy accidents.

Weight: 180lbs

Height: 6'4

Frame: Slim and tall.

Personality: Sly and smooth, Dren is something of a wordsmith and could talk a man into selling him everything he owns. Something of a manipulator, Dren tends to use another person's words against him. This can make him somewhat obnoxious. He holds himself in high standing and is very prideful, often acting posh or upper class despite the truth being anything but.

Job: Alchemist

Fighting Style: An amateurish boxing style, otherwise just wild scrapping.

Weapons from strongest to weakest:

Trice Majestos Cane: A black walking stick with a gold bottom and rounded orb at the top, emblazoned with three star symbols on the hilt. Whilst normally functioning as a walking stick, the cane also has potential as a magic catalyst and is Dren's primary form of defending himself. He supposedly made the cane himself and no-one has been able to prove him wrong yet. He also named it.

Item stock: Dren keeps a healthy supply of support items from his travels and a few he whipped up himself across the lands and makes use of them in tough situations. He also keeps a light supply of grenades which he particularly enjoys the use of.

Anelace: A slightly long silver dagger with a hand guard that Dren keeps at his belt. He rarely ever uses it, save for the occasional duel with a swordsman. He keeps it hidden under his cloak and his skills with it are lacking.

Armors/Outfits:

Red Hat: A large wide brimmed red hat with a white feather stuck into it. Dren uses it to cover his face and hide it.

Red overcloak: A large red cloak that Dren wears over his other clothes. Once again, it's used to hide Dren's appearance and also acts as a nifty place to store his wares and items. It also looks pretty cool when blowing in the wind.

Ragged robes: Beneath the cloak, Dren's clothes are not particularly special. They're functional and cover his form but they look shabby. He keeps them hidden at all times to keep up his appearance.

White gloves: These cover Dren's hands at all times to avoid showing the few scars and burns he's received from his alchemical work.

Familiar:

Familiar: Royal Rat Vanguard

Familiar Abilities: Grants Poison and Earth defense. Decreases fire resistance.

Movement Type: Ground, walks and runs, can climb structures.

Familiar Size: Tiny, very nimble and agile.

Relic Weapons: Blowpipe styled cane with ivory rat head top.

Relic Armors: Dren's red cloak and hat become battered and brown versions of themselves, seemingly crawling with rats.

Trance: The Red Phantom

Dren's limbs warp and extend outward, turning him wraithlike in appearance. His speed is doubled in this form, which assists in flinging his spells. His mind also becomes set on nothing but attack, losing all his intelligence.

Pros: He wields strong black magic, though he relies on distraction tactics and befuddling his foes to win the day. He also keeps a helpful stock of items on him at all times. He is also highly intelligent, allowing him to think on the spot in tight situations.

Cons: Dren has almost no physical forms of defending himself and in terms of physicality, is quite weak. Not to mention his reliance on items can leave him running out mid battle and his distraction tactics only tend to work against single opponents.

Background: Originally born in Treno in Alexandria, Dren was born into a life of poverty in the slums of the city. He had to work hard to keep his family supported, taking whatever job he could get and working as much as he could. Whilst working, he discovered he had an eye for spotting compatible materials for unique concoctions, beginning his experimentation as an alchemist.

When his parents passed away at the age of 15, Dren began stealing in order to further his new career, selling his concoctions and items wherever he could to make as much coin as he could. Once he finally had enough, he left the city to explore and sell his potentials somewhere else. He achieved moderate success and the recipes he learned helped him in a number of tricky spots.

When he returned to Treno, he was desperate not to slip back into a life of poverty and knew he had to gain favour with the lords. So, he purchased his robe and hat, hid his hands in gloves and began grooming himself into a makeshift lord. He got better and better, hiding his poor appearance and currying favour with powerful individuals slowly but surely. His skills as a mage earned him the nickname "The Gentleman Mage" by his fellows, finally allowing his transformation into a member of the high class to be complete. At least, that's what it looked like.

[User]
Dren continued slinging his ice magic, seeing as it was pretty effective against the goblins, freezing them many a time and cracking their frail bodies into bloody ice pops. He caught wind of the berserk being with the scythe was shouting at them to get moving... and then promptly left them. Even through this mist, Dren could see his fleeing form. The utter nerve would've made Dren bluster and blather were he not mid combat.

Dren spied the other two fellows nearby. With the one injured, they'd need a little extra backup... as much as he didn't want to be here. With the aid of a few quick teleports, he passed the remaining Goblins and turned up at Cas' side, covering their backs with spells as they continued to move toward the left.

"What the bloody hell is causing this mist? This doesn't seem natural!" Dren was no stranger to spells, obviously, but causing mist... seemed too specific to be a spell targeted at them. Could it perhaps be an after effect of some vile forest dweller? Even he was unsure.

[Assistant]
The Doll practically glided across the ground with supernatural speed. It slammed into Karn and flailed it's arms.
"Mist draws near girl! Move your group away from it, far away!" It's voice invaded her mind. The voice projected was that of a gentlemanly person. It flailed as it began to rest upon her shoulder like a Parrot.

Meanwhile, Cassius lead the group away from the encroaching Danger as they were approaching the crash sight.
Garnet was with Baku outside of the wreckage fighting with what looked like wolves, but there was something different about them... There was a draft from them... the kind that sent shivers down one's spine. Their violet eyes peering at Garnet, Baku holding a large axe in his hands, taking a mighty horizontal swing, sending it into the wreckage where the very wood would impale it.

Garnet held her hands together. "Roar of the Earth..." There was a sandy colored energy surrounding her in a ring, the ring had one layer, this indicated it was a level one spell out of four; These Rings were Dubbed "Circuits". Within a mere moment, what appeared to be three steaks of earth slammed into a wolf like creature. She huffed as it was sent into the ground, somewhat fading with it's pooling blood. "That was a close call..." She muttered.

"Close she says..." Blank spoke up with a chuckle. Cassius walking ahead of him to meet Garnet.

"Seems you are well. As are you." Cassius' eyes went from Garnet to Baku.
"It is nice to see you all survived as well. Where is the fox? Hitori, and the others?" Garnet tilted her head, looking innocently as concern was brimming in her eyes.

"They are alive, but separated." Cassius spoke flatly.

"How can y'ah tell lad?" Baku adjusted his goggles, swaying over with swagger as he held his gilded Axe, dragging it at his right side, cracking his neck with a slight tilt; tension being blatantly visible in his neck.

"Garnet can feel it... AS does Dren..." Cassius smirked, feeling Ifrit chuckle.
"What do you mean...?" Garnet tilted her head the other way, crossing her arms in slight frustration out of the lack of a straight answer.

"Master,it is clear she is new to her power. Perhaps explaining the Pulse; the echo..." Ifrit chuckled in Cassius' mind.

"The pulse you feel from several directions? That is life, and Familiars. Anyone bonded with one gives off a pulse that is more... louder than others. You by habit will sense life, and in what direction it is in at a radius... A... Distance around you. Though you cannot sense say... a weakness to exact level of life...Usually the frequency of the pulse indicates some form of... Condition." Cassius tried to elaborate as best as he could.

Garnet nodded. "Explain further... I wish to be rid of this place, but I prefer knowledge that can help me as well."

"So... Those pulse you feel? Life. The thicker ones that double in beat? Wielders of Familiars. Even know, your eyes are opening more to the world around you..." Cassius chuckled slightly. "These two are deaf to what we hear." Cassius looked to Baku and Blank. "Granted... you have to willingly expand your horizons to be the same intensity as others... I... Am more open minded to reason and logic of the Arcane... Despite my natural inept nature... But I can read magic... This... 'Ifrit', simply opens my eyes... But let us not dally." Cassius waved his arm, as if ordering them to move out.

Randy successfully hit the Goblin at such a force, it did not just die, it's head caved in, eye popping out of it's socket, just dangling... The Creatures that tainted Nature loved this sense of Malice... Just then, a Giant Plant descended down onto Randy, gripping it with it's vines, placing it in it's bulbous forehead... It's head acting as petals that closed at the top, creating a tip that held Randy in... It looked to Karn with it's massive mouth that lied under Randy, a grin of malice forming as if it gestured for a challenge. Its vines whipping other engineers to the side, many of which were screaming in frenzy.

[User]
Karn kicked a Goblin in the face, launching it against another as she tried clearing a path for her crewmates before jumping a bit as a Doll seemed to slam into her. In which she reflexively grabbed with her left hand, emerald gaze blinking as she stared at it. Feline ears perking a bit as words not her own seemed to enter her mind, she clicked her tongue and released her hold. Allowing the doll to mount her shoulder. Mist already? Perhaps this forest really was not happy of their intrusion. Either way, she knew they'd had to get out as soon as possible. The Evil Forest had quite the reputation, and she didn't really want to hang around just to see if the stories were true.

Sniffing the air with ears perked, she tsked and looked to the Ex-Soldier at her words. Scanning the area, she quickly tried to think of the best course of action. If the mist was rolling in then they'd really have to book it away. They could head to the rest of the ship but that would cause a delay in course. She was worried for the others, but she could only hope they could handle it and know they need to go too. Sniffing the air, she tried to find source of fresher cleaner air compared to this forest. Spotting the passageway, her nose twitched and pointed.

"No time. Head through that small passageway everyone! Mist rolling in and we need to book it!" The feline Demi-Human shouted before raising her fists as a plant monster came down and grabbed onto Randy. Eyes narrowing at the malice the creature seemed to ooze from its body, she held her fighting stance.

"Everyone quit screaming and keep your head! Marcus! Cinna! Round up everyone and get going!" Karn instructed to the others as she bolted, leaping and moving to slam her foot against the plant monster's vines that tried to wildly smash into the group.

"What about the Boss and the others?" Cinna pointed out as he whacked a goblin aside with his hammer.

"Boss can take care of himself. With any luck, the Princess is with him. They'll make it. And he'd call you idiots if you stand around freaking out. Now go. I'll help Randy." Karn said, watching the others bolt before she looked to the plant and bolted with increased speed thanks to Hercule. Charging at full speed to the monster, she pulled her right fist back and made to punch just as she reached it. Making to rapidly punch it in the face, both fists flying in impressive speed. Before moving to kick it in the face and push off it to flip backwards and away from it to try and avoid a attack. But was soon already charging for another round of assault.

"Sorry buddy, but can't let you eat my crewmates today." she smirked.

Not everyone were great fighters, Marcus and Cinna were pretty good so hopefully they could deter monsters enough for them to make a run for it. They didn't have time to slice through every monster. Hopefully they'd run into the others. She couldn't risk everyone's safety in a attempt to free Randy, but she wasn't going to abandon him either.

[Assistant]
Dren was thankful for a little respite after such quick spell slinging, taking a moment to wipe his brow and slip his hand back over the ball of his cane, more appropriate for walking, as that's what they'd be doing. When they found the other survivor, Dren felt ready to spring up and help her... and then, much to his surprise, she dealt with the threat with little effort. His brows raised, impressed with her actions... this young lady was far tougher than she looked, he remarked in his head.

The fellow's remark made him introspective for a moment, briefly glancing up at the brim of his top hat. Yes indeed, he bore a familiar of his own. And considering the intense strength the young lady, or Garnet, just showed, it was clear she had one too... in fact, now that attention had been brought to it, Dren could feel it... the pulse... a distinct heartbeat dissimilar from his own, but all the more missable without focusing on it...

"Fascinating." he remarked, scratching his chin. "If there are three of us that can locate this pulse, we'll be able to locate the others with relative ease. Of course, getting to them will be our issue." He continued to say, keeping to the left side of the group for protection, turning over ideas in his head that now buzzed like a swarm of bees.


[System]
Species: Human werewolf.
Age: 23.
Gender: Female.
Personality: Ashley is fairly mellow. She's not overly happy, nor is she overly sad or cynical. She walks the middle of the road and would be found refilling the glass for another round than trying to figure out if it's half empty or half full. Ashley is lazy to a point, and generally does things to her own time over taking care of everything at once.

Appearance: Ashley is of average height since she stands at five feet five inches. Ashley's skin is close to copy paper in color due to her extended presence in clubs or bars. Ashley's hair is cut quite short and is black in color. Ashley's eyes are a dark green in color and are thankfully free of any fashion contacts or other oddities. Ashley's eyebrows are rough, but not excessive, and match her hair. Ashley's face is overall free of blemishes, which Ashley is immensely thankful for.

Ashley's body is fairly well rounded. Her upper and lower body is well developed and fit. She's not boasting bulging muscles or a six pack, but she's more than qualified for extended physical activity. Ashley doesn't have much in the way of marks on the rest of her body either, which she is again more than thankful for. Ashley's nails are trimmed down, and have also been painted black to fit with her overall punk look. Ashley's most prominent feature is actually a prominent bust, which she gets annoyingly frequent comments about.

Ashley's wardrobe fits well with her punk theme. Ashley wears a plain black T-shirt along with a light black cloth jacket. Ashley also wears a pair of black jeans. Beneath these jeans Ashley wears a pair of knee length nylon stockings and a pair of calf length black leather boots.

Ashley also wears a pair of fingerless leather gloves. These gloves have small metal studs over each knuckle, though they're obviously not weaponized. However, that doesn't prevent them from hurting a little more than usual should someone suffer a blow from Ashley. Ashley also wears a black one piece kneeskin swimsuit in place of traditional undergarments, since some more unruly members of the audience would sometimes find themselves throwing their drinks at the stage, leaving Ashley and her band members varying degrees of wet from time to time. The swimsuit helped prevent people from seeing more than they needed to.

When transformed, Ashley loses most of her outfit. Thankfully, her swimsuit is stretchy enough to handle the transformation with ease while still keeping everything covered. Her wolf form stands at six feet and five inches, making her taller than most men. Ashley's transformed body is coated with a fine layer of muscle. Not excessive like a bodybuilder, but slim and practical while still being easy to notice. Her legs are digitigrade, which makes her more agile and allows her to run faster at the cost of not being able to operate certain machinery due to her height and how her legs are shaped. Ashley's body is roughly the same shape aside, though everything is scaled up to fit her new size. Ashley's head is that of a wolf in this form, and her hair grows slightly to fit better. Ashley's fur is stormy grey in color with the underside of her torso having a lighter grey. Finally, while transformed, Ashley has a small lightning bolt on the top of her snout.

Powers: Lightning/electricity generation and control: Ashley is capable of generating and controlling electricity and lightning. This is primarily represented in bolts thrown from her fingertips, though she can also charge the studs in her gloves with electricity to make her punches hurt more.

Transformation: Ashley is a werewolf, and is capable of transforming into a werewolf form when enough adrenaline enters into her bloodstream, though this costs her most of her wardrobe for a while. While transformed, Ashley still has access to her lightning abilities, and can now charge her claws with lightning. As a bonus, she's also able to charge her fists with lightning, making her punches devastating.

Strengths: Immune to electric shock. Heals quickly. Physical prowess is enhanced in werewolf form.

Weaknesses: Water shuts down her electric powers due to the fact that she would shock herself if she used them. Skin contact with metal also shuts down her powers, and nearby metal will attract electricity. Silver burns her while she is transformed.

Background: Ashley grew up singing cover songs in bars and nightclubs in order to get by after a crummy early life. Her looks drew a crowd, her voice kept them there. However, this lifestyle turned out to be rather unsustainable. Forced to contemplate her future, Ashley walked to a nearby park to think things over. While she was walking around the trees, it started to rain. In her rush to get home, Ashley was struck by lightning. She passed out, and merely moments later a rogue werewolf tracked her smell. He giggled to himself that nature had cooked him a meal, and sank his teeth into Ashley's shoulder.

The werewolf went flying as ten thousand volts flew into his system. The bite healed shortly after, and Ashley got up and went home with a massive headache. This was three years ago, and her life has been different ever since.

Misc. Notes: None.

[User]
Sam found the button shortly after Boxcar had told him which side of the door it was on, there was nothing obvious marking it was different from the rest of the area so you'd have to either know it's there or be looking for it to push the button. Once Boxcar was out he calmed down immediately, and didn't sound very grateful for being saved, but his tail was wagging so Sam let the attitude slide and counted it as a win in his book.

The idea of food made Sam realize how hungry he was, he hadn't eaten anything since he woke up at about 6 that morning. Before that though Ashley reminded him he had something he wanted to say, "oh right, it's just something about what you announced to everyone upstairs." He felt his face getting warm, which had a much different meaning than someone else saying it, he hoped he didn't flame up. Why was he getting nervous all of a sudden? "It's just...you sounded kind of scared of how people might react, but I don't see what the big deal with it is." As he spoke he gained more confidence, Sam wasn't the best at talking to new people, but once he got going he found it much easier. "I mean, we've all got something going on with us in this house, right?"

Sam paused a moment and considered telling her about his heritage, then decided he would. Everyone would probably find out eventually, and Ashley seemed like a nice person so he'd tell her first. "I have some ability with fire, and I have that because," Sam looked around and lowered his voice without really realizing it, "I'm actually part phoenix." He let out a sigh he didn't realize he was holding in, it felt good to tell someone about himself. He also didn't feel warm anymore so he didn't fear accidentally bursting in to flames with Ashley right there with him.

[Assistant]
Nora walked next to the girl as they made their way over to the table. The scientist adjusted her glasses as she waited in case the girl needed help sitting down, but when Nora saw her slump into one of the kitchen chairs, she reached out and slid one of the loaded plates toward the girl's place with a small, friendly smile.

"Go ahead and eat," she said kindly. "There'll be time to talk later. Just let me know if you need anything for that headache."

Nora sat herself down in a chair at the table nearby and took one of the plates for herself. She wanted to be a good host, but heck if she was going to let her own food get cold before she had some of it! She grabbed a few extra napkins and started eating with painfully-adorable tiny bites, relishing the savory and spicy meat, vegetable and sauce mix along with the homemade tortilla. She let out a pleased noise at her own handiwork, then blushed as she got self-conscious and then nearly choked as she tried to apologize and laugh at the same time. It took a whole glassful of the strawberry lemonade to get things back under control again before she could get back to eating again with a sheepish smile.

[User]
Sam felt herself moving, but couldn't seem to register the sensation as an actual event occurring in real time. It felt more like a dream, or a distant memory. She found herself calling up images of devices she'd studied in the past, and ideas she'd had for the future that never came. Thinking about all those lost opportunities -those many, many untraveled roads- disturbed her perhaps a bit more than it should have. The smell of fajitas brought her out of that line of thought and promptly deposited her into another.

"Now, when was the last time I had Mexican?"

Her backside touched something soft, but firm, and she became vaguely aware of something hard supporting her back. It wasn't solid; it felt more like...bars. It wouldn't have been a cage; those bars ran vertically. These felt rounded, like some kind of decorative ironwork. Her imagination drifted again, this time treating her to a grand sculpture of wrought iron in the shape of a dragon. She'd seen the gate online somewhere, probably as part of an article about eccentric millionaires and their extravagant homes.

A good minute or two passed before Sam realized she was staring at a plate. This moment of lucidity -which she could only assume would be temporary, given the fact she couldn't remember how she'd gotten here- blended seamlessly with an angry rumble from her midsection to induce a second thought about food. The same thought, however, which prompted her to eat also caused her stomach to turn.

"Looks good..." Sam forced herself to say something -anything- to prevent an awkward silence. Shrinks loved to use those on her. They would invent all manner of reasons why she shouldn't be so silent; each of those theories inevitably wending its way toward a few days in isolation, following a series of injections and a few broken noses. She wondered whether she would have received as much medication if she hadn't fought back, or whether it would have been more.

"Eat something, stupid." she scolded herself. Even if it wasn't much, it would prevent the inevitable cascade of questions and feigned sympathy which invariably accompanied a lack of appetite. Her stomach growled again, and Sam was forced to admit it was just the nausea which had made this plate unapproachable. In another time, and another place, it would already have been gone, and she'd have been spending this very moment wiping up the last of the sauce with an empty tortilla.

She carefully lifted the neatly-folded fajita with both hands and, with eyes closed from the effort of willing herself not to Linda Blair all over what was- if she was honest with herself- the best spread she'd seen in recent memory, took the tentative first bite. That was all it took to convince her. This chicken had been marinated and grilled, then simmered in its own savory sauce until it fell apart. The spices worked well together, and the crunch of the vegetables added a much-needed texture to the wrap. As she ate, she tried to remember any place local which had served up something like this. By the time she came to the end of that list, she was looking at an empty plate.

"Thanks," she mumbled, still not quite "present". Before she could stifle it, her stomach added its compliments in the way of a loud-and-proud belch, deep and resonant, which sounded like it quite literally had its own teeth.

[Assistant]
As Samuel confessed that he was part phoenix, Ashley gave a slight smile before she said. "That's pretty cool. I'm sure you'll do fine. I was nervous about my werewolf condition due to the fact that some people might have had some bad experiences with them before, and since I can't control my transformations I wouldn't want to be slain in an attempt to 'spare me from the monster' should I transform at night while everyone's asleep, if that makes any sense. I just figured I'd get it out of the way ahead of time before we had an accident."

Ashley figured Samuel would want to eat sooner rather than later, and thus decided to not prolong the conversation if Samuel didn't want to. Turning towards the stairs, Ashley raised her arm and said. "Coming? I have to return the transponder to Nora before too long." With that, Ashley went upstairs. She followed her nose and the clicking sound of Boxcar walking to the kitchen, where she was met with a surprise. The girl from the forest was awake and eating. Ashley found this to be rather surprising, as she didn't expect her to recover so quickly. Ashley didn't say anything to the girl from the forest directly, but instead walked over to Nora and held out the transponder with news of what she had found downstairs. "Boxcar got himself trapped behind some kind of secret door that closed behind him. I would've gone and looked myself, but I figured it would be better to eat food while it's available and explore later since the door is probably not going to move anywhere. It can be explored later if we all want."

Once Nora took the transponder back, Ashley helped herself to the fajitas that were on hand. She took a plate and helped herself to a fork. Sitting down at the table next to Nora, assuming no one was there, Ashley began to eat. Ashley ate politely since she was with company, taking reasonable bites instead of scarfing everything down. Ashley gave the girl from the forest a quick look while she ate. She looked pretty rough and beat up, though it was interesting in that the girl looked fairly similar to Ashley herself in terms of dress, though there was a fair difference in hairstyle and hair care, along with a slight difference in height and a notable difference in body curves. There probably wouldn't be much confusion between who was who.

Ashley ate through about half of her plate in a fair amount of time. Not too fast but not too slow. Ashley paused for a moment to raid the fridge, and smiled to herself when she found cans of soda within and helped herself. Sitting back down at the table where her food was Ashley set the soda down on a coaster or, if there was no coaster, improvised a coaster from a napkin. With a drink secured, Ashley resumed eating unless something happened that would provoke a response from her. Hopefully nothing did, because Nora was a good cook and the fajitas were tasty, but you could never be too sure about that.