[System]
I R L
Age - 20
Place of Origin - Indiana, USA
Occupation - Gas station clerk

A V A T A R

Character's Name - Graves
Pathos Affiliation - Draethir
Role - Melee DPS
Profession - Bounty Hunter
Weapon of Choice - Nodachi
Domains - Water, Darkness; Restoration, Divination, Enhancement

-

P E R S O N A L I T Y

Arrogant
It isn't just that Graves thinks highly of himself. He doesn't believe he's the best- he knows he is, and the only reason he fails is when others are holding him back. There is no challenge he won't take on, no enemy he's afraid to challenge; he has mastered the art of combat in Pariah Online and he's eager to show that off.

Belligerent
His mentors always hammered into his head that the one thing a good fighter had was aggression. A full-bodied willingness to commit violence, directed violence, against their opponents. To hesitate was to admit you were the weaker combatant. To allow the enemy initiative was the equivalent of surrender. Graves has taken those lessons to heart, allowing that belligerence to seep into every aspect of his personality.

Driven
For all his many, many faults, none can deny Graves's desire to succeed. He is driven beyond rational boundaries, to the point where Graves believes he can do anything he wants- often times bending the situation to make this fact true. He doesn't allow himself to slip, to lose, to give in, ever.

B E N C H M A R K S

Violent Transfusion
The linchpin of Graves's fighting style is his ability to heal himself by wounding his enemies. He strikes at them with his signature weapon, drawing the blood from their bodies using his unusual primordial magics, and then transmutes it into a healing energy that stitches up his own wounds at a rapid pace. This allows Graves to maintain full throttle aggression without putting himself in total mortal peril.

Surgical Precision
Studying the anatomy of wayfarers and monsters alike was a necessary component of Graves's chosen battle strategy. He's learned the best places to strike to disable his opponents, or to produce the greatest flow of blood. In addition, He's also internalized where he can safely wound himself if the need ever arises.

Human Bloodhound
Graves pursues his targets like a predator tracks a wounded animal. He treks across great distances, following even the most subtle of clues for weeks at a time. Nothing ever seems to deter or distract him, so singular is his purpose.

Pain, Life's Great Motivator
Pain is something every wayfarer is familiar with. Some shy away from it, while others manage to grit their teeth and soldier onward despite it. Graves revels in it. He practically falls into his attacker's blade at any given opportunity. It makes for a terrifying display when he walks through a debilitating stab wound to make his counterattack.
 | Physical Description
Andrew is unusually tall, measuring more than a few inches over six feet- a trait he inherited from his father. He's far thinner, however, with an unhealthy gauntness to his long face. Dark circles around his eyes stand out against harshly pale skin, and long hair falls down to his shoulders. Most wouldn't regard him as particularly good-looking, owing in no small part to a lack of effort and little self confidence.

His persona's appearance in Pariah differs significantly. While Graves stands just as tall, he's extraordinarily well-built, with a chest as broad as a barrel and muscle coiled like steel cable. Scarring earned from many an encounter pepper his body thanks to his light armor and penchant for reckless aggression. Graves is much better put together, too, with shorter cropped hair and strong features his player could only dream of.
Character Conceptualization
Graves is a controversial bounty hunter whose history stretches back to the first days of Pariah Online. He's renowned for doggedly pursuing his targets no matter where they run or for how long. Quick tempered and arrogant to the core, Graves is a difficult man to work with if he believes you're holding him back- and he thinks everyone does. The few friendships he still holds are troubled, to say the least, yet it wasn't always so.

Back when the game first launched, Graves was a member of a guild called the Strange Reign Club. They were a highly competitive group of raiders and PVPers with a reputation for extraordinaire toxicity. It was hard to argue against their results, however. Graves showed great promise as one of their earliest recruits, competing with some of the Club's best duelists. He'd stay with them for many months before, without much warning, he'd be cut from the team and blacklisted by its raid leaders.

 A solo player ever since, Graves has been quietly grinding away at his profession, stewing on whatever drama had happened behind the scenes...
Other Information
♬

Transfusion: The primary vehicle of Graves's unstoppable aggression and the core aspect of his kit. Transfusion allows Graves to transform any blood into lifeforce, healing physical wounds of nearly any kind. The blood must be drawn through an open wound. The amount of healing received and how quickly it takes to stitch a wound depends on the volume and quality of the blood provided. This ability is typically used by cutting open an enemy's major arteries and healing himself, but it is not limited to this function.

Defiant to the End: One of his strongest abilities, and the most dangerous to utilize. If Graves has suffered enough damage to be near unconsciousness or death's door, he can temporarily convert the flow of blood from all his wounds into life-force, providing an incredible burst of healing power. This magic has the potential to harm or eve kill him if it consumes too great a quantity of his blood.

Meditative Healing: Another aspect of Graves's advanced blood-based restoration magic. By sitting in a meditative trance for at least an hour, he may use his own blood to close his own wounds. This consumes his blood, much like Defiant to the End. How long it takes depends on the severity of said injuries. The stance is extremely taxing, essentially requiring he rest immediately afterward. In addition, it can't repair grievous wounds such as broken bones or eviscerated organs.

Blood In The Water: Using a concoction of a creature's blood and a number of other ingredients, Graves may consume it to cast this spell to locate that creature if they are within a thousand feet of him; if they're moving he knows the direction. This spell can be blocked by most magic or materials meant to disrupt divination.

Sight Beyond Sight: Sight Beyond Sight allows Graves to concentrate, blocking out all other senses to activate a sort of 'sixth sense.' This sixth sense allows him to feel the presence of bleeding targets within a thirty meter radius of himself, though it can be blocked by sufficiently thick walls or anti-divination magic. It acts similarly to echo location, wherein he gets a 'blip' of the target(s)' movement every couple of seconds. |

[User]
Location: The Dungeon, The City-State of Thorinn, Aetheria

---

"If we wake up."

Rael sighed as she cracked her neck. She was sore and tired, but not absolutely exhausted. Kalie had exerted all of her energy to bring down the demon; Benkei was having a panic attack. She was certain the rest of the group would rejuvenate them soon enough.

"We're stuck here." Hanako said in the annals of her head. "What if the hack gets worse? What if they can't fix it?"

The thought was something Rael thought about as she leaned against one of the room's walls to brace herself. Her eyes moved to Priscilica as the large doors to the control room opened and the pink-haired spellcaster wandered inside. She was glad there was no more surprises, but even Rael was on edge. Part of her was disappointed that the battle was over but that was a part of her that was in opposition to her body and her mind. Hanako, Rael... and whoever she was now. She supposed the way she thought and acted was divorced between the two, like an amalgamation. There was no real reason to roleplay in the new landscape of the world and it was a world she was going to have to get used to.

"You're thinking it, too, aren't you?" She said as people rushed to Benkei's aid, "How this could be it."

She crossed her arms after she leaned her spear against the wall.

There was an aching part of her mind. Why wasn't she scared? Why did she want to keep fighting? What was wrong with her? It ate at her like an acid, though she did not show this anxiety as she did so. But this time it wasn't out of keeping up the appearance of looking cool; this time it was out of numbness.

[Assistant]
---

---

Priscilica was too kind--he hadn't done anything special that anyone else couldn't have accomplished. Anyone else could've given her a draught. If anything he was the least effective in the last fight, he didn't even contribute to killing the boss. And the one thing he could do, he failed at. Nonetheless it'd be pointless and rude to say otherwise, and Kazuki only offered the girl a nod of acknowledgment, watching her as she walked off. He couldn't quite look Seele in the eye, instead choosing to walk past her as he unhooked his lyre. The familiar, ear-scratching grind of the door let him now that the dungeon was officially over.

Starting up the familiar-sounding song, Kazuki let his body go on autopilot, staring at nothing in particular. It was easy to let the notes carry him away to anywhere else, but the sound of Luci's sobs made sure to root him to the dungeon's room. He could feel the pull of his magic already; he must have used up more magic than he thought. He figured he may as well get everyone up as best he could so they could make it back to town in one piece, albeit a quick look around let him know that exhaustion was just as common as injuries. That would be the second thing he would look into, there was probably a spell out there that could help with that. He'd be more effective next time. He'd succeed next time. Failure was no longer--

The sound of metal hitting the ground caused Kazuki to stop as he whirled around to the source. For a split second he thought that even the dungeon's end had changed and something else was coming, but instead he was greeted with the sight of Kazuma on his knees. Had he been hurt worse than he thought? But the way he grasped at his chest set off every single alarm in his head. Kazuki didn't even realize he had dropped his lyre when he ran over, kneeling down next to him.

"Kazuma!" Kazuki called out his name, louder than he meant but stern as he held his hand. "Kazuma, breathe, I'm right here with you! You're okay now, just breathe!"

---

---

[User]
Location: The Dungeon, -- The City-State of Thorinn, Aetheria

---

"You're thinking it, too, aren't you? How this could be it."

It had crossed his mind more than a few times. If the glitch was easily fixed they never would've heard about it. Nobody in their right mind would admit the players couldn't be logged out and that they were at risk of death unless there wasn't an alternative. The situation in the real world must've been untenable. It was the only thing that made sense. So what then? What were the chances they were stuck in Pariah for days, or weeks? What if they were stuck in here for the rest of their miserable lives? Graves should've been frightened by the thought, but instead all he felt was...

"They don't deserve it." He breathed, watching Benkei hit the floor. A panic attack. He'd seen 'em before. He remembered one night William came home with eight different drugs in his system and spent hours freaking the fuck out. It hurt to watch- just like this did- but there was nothing he could do. Nothing he could do but ride it out.

"They have somethin' to go back to." Graves sniffled, wiping his nose. "People. Lives. I-I mean, Aags and Luci were gonna be together for Christ's sake. They had so much. So much ahead of 'em."

He felt like a monster for laughing after everything that'd happened. After all that was still happening. There wasn't an ounce of joy in the sound; just pained, angry resentment."What- what the fuck did I have, y'know? Without this stupid game I might as well be..."

Graves never finished the thought. He climbed back to his feet, and shook it all off. Took all that shit he'd been moments from letting fall out into the world for the first time in his life and put it back where it belonged. There was still work to be done. Still bodies to be buried. They could deal with what came next later.


[System]
Gender: Female Human
Intents: Searching for a job, Chef in specific.

Equipment:
-Satchel full of scrolls and books of various subjects
-Magic 'Tool' kit, typically hidden in the satchel somewhere. Used to help ID, make and unmake magics.
-Steel dagger
-Cloth clothes
-Coin Purse
Skills:
-Expert Longsword Skill, Bloßfechten and Harnischfechten, most comfortable with the Oakeshott Type XVIIIb.
-Proficient Dagger Skill.
-Proficient Cook
-Mediocre Cleaner

Magic:
-Magic Bestowed by Another: Master Summoning Magic, two known Summons.
--Black, a defensive Knight, wielding a Shortsword of unknown make, and a shield of unknown make.
--Green, an offensive Knight, wielding a standard Arming-sword, and a Bec-de-corbin Polearm.
-Magic through Study: Basic Magic, overall knowledge.
Appearance:

[User]
The Clock rings five times.
It is evening. As the sun sets early, bringing the darkness and the cruel winter, the men and women lock their doors against the horrors of the night. The peasants huddle around the fireplace for warmth against the cold. They stir their stews, one bowl for each. A warm meal, for a cold night. The nobles sit at their six meter long tables, preparing for a full course dinner. Guards watch the walls.
As the night sets and the long dark comes. Winter has arrived. To the North Frost Isles, they ride their longboats to raid the Central Continent. To the Western Deserts of Lesrek and Dushai, nomadic warlords set their sight eastward. The southern pole stirs, glowing eyes lighting ruins that have been long since forgotten. The sea-leviathans of the south migrate northwards as colder waters begin to set around the globe. Within the Central Continent itself is no safe haven. Black bile secrets from the ground. Creatures of the dark and of sin wander the night. Cities fortify their walls. Villages arm their militias. Travelers set their perimeters. Sometimes the only sound in the night is the occasional scream of death. These are recent events. The people are unused to war. To fighting a foe that commands fear. Where they come from, nobody knows. The world is at unrest. Yet none of this seems to reach The Tavern. The creatures avoid it. Nobody knows.
The Clock rings five times. And sets on The Star. Hope. The Long Dark is usually fraught with dread but this night, the people can sleep soundly. They dream of the summers and springs, wheat fields and flowers. The Sun. The Star. They dream peacefully, yet not all of them would wake.

---

Ihri spent the last few hours cleaning the kitchen, primarily the spit and the oven. She would need those. Before she went into the kitchen to make dinner for everyone, she told the Warforged that she would do the examination over dinner time. In the meantime, Black would keep him company. Black was not a very talkative person, but he did consider himself strong. Maybe a tad bit weaker than a Warforged... It wasn't long until he put his elbow on the table for tests of strength. Arm wrestling, for a start.

Luckily the kitchen was still stocked with a few things, smoked fish and pork, dried wheat and oats, some candied nuts, and an uncanny amount of alcohols. The lack of ingredient variety meant that she couldn't make much, but gruel was an easy make. After half an hour, the gruel was ready. It wasn't particularly much, certainly not a meal for kings, but it did the job. Bits of smoked fish and pork would make it tastier as well. She grabbed a few bowls and washed them, walking out to the bar with the bowls and the hot gruel, she put them on the table. Along with a plate of the smoked meat.

"Gruel with meat?" The aged bartender asked, "Is that all we have?"
Ihri gave a rather dejected, "Yeah," fearing that she hadn't done a good job.
"Good work. We'll send someone to get supplies from the city in the morning." The Bartender took out an ink pen and a small notebook, writing in a reminder. Ihri smiled, walking back to the table that the Warforged and Black were sitting at. She put a bowl of gruel, topped with some pork on the table and let it sit. Grabbing the magnifying glass, she spoke up to grab their attention.
"Now it's time for your examination." She sat the Warforged down, stepping back a few steps and peered at him with the magnifying glass. After a few minutes, she spoke up, "Whoever made you didn't do a very good job. I should be able to patch you up, but it might take a while...

[Assistant]
Sabara hovered near one of the tables, looking for something to do. Being what she was meant that physical concerns were nothing to her anymore, but she still needed to do something to stave off boredom. That was why she worked here; that, and the chance to meet new people.

The floors hadn't been swept in a while, she noticed, so that was next on her agenda. She found a broom and essentially dove inside it, causing it to sweep the floor seemingly of it's own accord. She had to admit, it was a power that came in handy rather often, even if it wasn't as flashy as true combat magic.

[User]
When Ihri left the table to head for the Kitchen, Kitten took a few steps after her. After looking back and seeing that his friend was still at the table he chose to return to him hopping onto the empty chair and watching as Black put his elbow on the table.

He saw the gesture from the Knight in black and turned to Kitten. His tale was wagging lazily, and he cocked his head to one side. If he could have smiled he would have "Ok, Kitten" he said as he locked his hand in with Black's. Kitten leet out a WOOF!  and he began trying to force the Knights hand to the table. It was more difficult than he had expected, which caused his eyes to glow with excitement and joy.

While he thought he had the slightest u per hand in the match he was content with calling this match a draw when Ihri returned to the table. He followed her instructions once she began the examination and then she spoke confirming what he had suspected. He was poorly made. While he knew this was not his fault it still left him feeling poorly. His sad mood did not last more than a second however, she said she could fix him. He hadn't felt this happy since finding Kitten. All he could manage to say was "Really? Thank you." He had made up his mind. He had made two new friends, and if she could fix him he would let her pick his new name.

[Assistant]
"Really? Thank you." The Warforged thanked,
Ihri scratched her cheek, "You're welcome, but... Yeah, it will take some time." She admitted once again, "I have to find what kind of 'language' was used, then which 'dialect'. There's all sorts of different kinds of magics for the same things because of cultural differences. The spell for fireball might be completely different than the one for a fireball in another land, but they both produce a fireball. In this case, I can't add my own magic to the one already in you because the two 'languages' will be incompatible and bad things will happen. Although... I'm not sure what those bad things are." She chuckled nervously, scratching her cheek again, "So I have to study what is already in you, figure it all out, and then I can start adding or altering. It's..." She placed her magnifying glass into the box and closed it, the symbol changing again. She opened it, revealing several pieces of parchment and several pens with numerous inkwells of various shape and size. She grabbed a piece of paper and a pen and began to draw it out. First a box, and circles in the box.
"It's like this," She pointed at the circles, "There's lots of empty space between the circles." She drew another box, but this time, squares into the box, "And this is what it should be, no empty space. It stacks and gives a good foundation for growth, the circles would move around and it would be hard to put things on it and expect it to stay." She went back to the box with the circles, and filled in the empty space with four pointed stars, greatly reducing the amount of empty space and locking the circles in place, "But we can do this and fix it." She smiled, "Something like that. It should be something like that." She glanced upwards, finally done with her explanation.

She sat down and started on her dinner, hearing a brushing sound. She looked over and found that a broom was moving itself to sweep the floor. After a brief moment of befuddlement, she spotted the ghost. "You're a ghost!" She exclaimed the obvious, it was relatively easy to miss the apparition, her translucence ensuring that. "Are you... Making the broom move? Are you a magic practitioner?" She questioned, putting the bowl down at the table.
Black put his elbow on the table and rested his forehead on his palm. How she would ask if the ghost was a mage first and not question if the ghost was malevolent or not was beyond him.

[User] Sabara popped herself out of the broom, which, no longer commanded by her, simply tipped over and laid down. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Sabara. Yes, I am a ghost, and I was a mage's apprentice in life." The ghost floated over and hovered just off the floor, glancing at Ihri. "But what I want to know is more about you. Who you are, why you came to this place, and how come you know so much about magic yourself." The ghost flicked a stray hair away from her eyes. She may have been incorporeal, but old habits died hard.

[Assistant]
After thanking her, she began a very long explanation. She was trying to tell him why the repair process would take so long, but as he feared, he was having trouble understanding what she was saying. 'Languages and dialects?' He thought. He was trying to keep up but he was losing hope. That is until she began to draw.

Pictures he could understand. He loved pictures especially blue-prints and building plans. So when she began drawing the circles and squares he was able to keep up. He even understood the need for the four pointed stars and began nodding along. When she was done with the explanation he said " it's ok if it takes time. I'm just glad someone will try."

After that she went back to eating. Shortly after she began talking to the broom and the broom talked back? He turned to look at the broom when she first spoke. He was surprised when he saw the woman come out of the broom stick. Sometimes it made him extra happy he was warforged. This was one of those times. If someone would have been able to see is surprise he was sure he would have been embarrassed. As always though he relaxed when he realized Kitten was still calm.

Kitten stood up and began to stretch. He was getting restless and now that the wolf knew he could trust Ihri he began to sniff to see if anything interesting could be found. Sniffing the air to double check his suspicion, he trotted off after the scent. The trail lead him up the stairs to a bed room, which he sniffed thoroughly. Nothing. He followed the scent back down stairs and to a door that lead to the basement. Kitten went down the stairs and paused at the landing.

[User]
It seemed to take forever and a day and Ember had lost concentration on more than one occasion but she had finally managed to stabilize the water in the basement bathhouse. The glyphs on the bottom of the large bath stopped pulsing and glowing and water was no longer spewing into the air. The pixie was proud of herself and but was also a little drained. She floated down to the ground and sat on the edge of the bath, dangling her feet down towards the water. She was so small that her legs barely reached to the top of the water and she gently kicked at the surface with her toes.

The bath was working again but the place was filthy and as Ember had touched down she kicked up a small cloud of dust. It swirled around for a second or two before it finally reached her nose. The pixie's face scrunched up in a way that made her look far less attractive than she actually was then settled. She repeated this action again and was pleased when she didn't let out a sneeze. She was taken entirely by surprise when a sneeze finally erupted from her mouth and nose, causing her entire body to tense up. She let out a noise so loud it seemed unnatural for someone so tiny to produce.

With the blasted dust finally free of her nose, Ember quietly groaned and said to herself "This place is filthy....And smelly to boot."

[Assistant]
A real ghost! Ihri recalled what her Uncle had told her about ghosts. There were many different kinds, some locked in an endless repeat of their final moments, others vengeful for what had happened, some had unfinished business, and many more reasons. Most of the time people who died would unintentionally become ghosts and end up not realizing that they had become ghosts, resulting in some strange occurrences. The ghosts to watch out for were the self-aware ones, like Sabara standing in front of her. They knew of their ability to phase through solid walls, their transparency, some even had the ability to possess inanimate objects. Particularly powerful ones, even living beings. Where fear and caution should be, only curiosity stayed. Ihri as a small child had witnessed her Uncle speak to ghosts before, but she had never seen them. Her Uncle said that they could shroud themselves entirely from people they did not want seeing them, and while they enjoyed little Ihri's company, they thought that their gruesome appearance would frighten her.

Sabara did not look gruesome at all however. Ihri wondered why she became a ghost, an injustice? Unfinished business? An oath perhaps? She was a mage apprentice in life, perhaps this was intentional? The ghost floated closer.
"But what I want to know is more about you. Who you are, why you came to this place, and how come you know so much about magic yourself." She spoke.
The ghost had a point, not many mages had as much knowledge as she did. A grand majority studies under a single master, who studied a single craft in a single language, usually with the local dialect. Those that travel and witness other magics are not always so open minded to leaning the new magics they see as well.
"Ah, well, I um," She blushed lightly. She wasn't very used to this sort of talk, about herself. Most people were uninterested, and the ones she travels with are rather quiet, "I'm Ihri Vozal, I study magic under..." She thought, Uncle Bones had a formal title, what was it? "Tzud'Khozok the Undying Watcher, but I just call him Uncle Bones. He had something to do so he sent me here to find a job. He's spent his whole life studying the magic of the world, he started to teach me when I was small."
The Bartender rose an eyebrow at the mention of the name. He continued to wipe down the bar.
"An old friend said to me, 'a mile long but an inch deep'. I know lots about magic theory, but putting it into practice is harder." She gave a shrugging smile.


[System]
Extra:

Racial features
-Skin ranging from chalk white to deep blue black, as well as green and brown tones.
-Skin is very smooth, almost completely hairless, and always covered in a slight wetness. The hair that is present is always on the head and sometimes face, and almost impossible to see on hands.
-Eyes have various colors from all over the spectrum, but have wide pupils with a small ring of iris.
-Instead of legs, they have a long tailfin. Shapes range from what humans would call dolphinlike, to those of flowing tropical fish.
Gender: Female
Age: 17
Parents: Parents aren't heroes. Granddaughter of Amanda Waller.
Powers: Kijani has the ability to manipulate paper, and control it's density. She can turn an index card into a razor sharp blade, a book into a brick, and newspaper into armor. She can remember anything she's read and recall it with accuracy.
She also has a lot of grace on the battlefield, her primary talent being evasion and misdirection. Her fighting style is a blend of Tai Chi and Capoeria- moving with the flow of the fight, never stopping. Kijani's self-invented style flows from move to move, never breaking stride even when she falls or is hit, it simply becomes another move in the dance.
She has been trained in the use of a Chinese jian and has been gifted with her own blade.
She has a gift for languages and speaks 4, 5 if ASL is included, and is working on Mandarin Chinese.
Bio: Kijani was born to two wealthy, brilliant people who happened to dislike each other. Her conception was essentially an accident, and her parents married out of propriety rather than love. She grew up cared for by a nanny while her parents worked and ignored her. When she was eleven, she was kidnapped off the streets and held for ransom for a week. Her parents paid, she was released, but she was scarred, both physically and psychologically. From that day on she was never quite the same. She promised herself she'd never let that happen to her again, no matter what it took. Her nanny was fired, and Kijani pretty much raised herself from the age of eleven while her parents worked. She became an emancipated minor at the age of fourteen, took her inheritance from her parents, and used it to start living life on her own terms.

After the events of Kijani's first semester at the Academy, she has also cut herself off from her grandmother.

Appearance:

[User]
Tryla gave a small wave to the people who had helped them, saying, "See you around, guys," before following Brenner. When he held the door open for her, she smirked. "Why thanks, stranger. Get it? Stranger? Cause your last name is Strange?" She said, laughing a little. She then walked through the open door and gazed at the computers. "Hmmmmmm....where to sit...." she pondered, scanning the room.

@Caits@Avanhelsing

[Assistant]
Katherin knew where she had to go. She had signed up for classes at the end of last year so she was all set. She finished her breakfast and looked around. There were as many new students this year as there had been last year. She remember how nervous and excited she had been for her first year here. She would try to meet and make friends with some of the new kids. There was no telling who might be a future alia.

---

Zack didn't bother with breakfast. Both he and Griffin were two nervous. Insisted they sat in a tree in the court yard and watched the other students. Normally he would be out there meeting people. Zack loved meeting new people. But neither he or his brother were ready to deal trying to blend in. It wasn't something that came easily to either of them. Besides it was almost time for first period.

[User] Cameron wasn't much the type to meet knew people. He skipped breakfast, instead deciding to lounge around outside. He didn't trust anyone here.

[Assistant]
A Moose@Erklings25
Lance finished registering and got his dorm info and class schedule, he took an engineering class as his elective. He wondered who is roommate would be, maybe they could be a super hero duo, or archenemies. He laughed at the thought of that, as he was leaving he saw two students looking around the room. "Hey, are you two new students as well" Lance said, he was trying to be friendly as well as make some new friends so why not on the first day.

[User] Lex didnt eat breakfeast. sometimes he forgot to eat. People would say he was like his dad that he worked to much. Lex rolled his eyes and lookd around at the other student. He put away his computer and blueprints and decided to wander the corutyard. TO get to know people. *dad was always a people's person, but I havent been around many people growing up* His father wanted him to be a secret for some reason. At a rare time he was nervous. Nervous about what to say and what people would say. *Damn why am I such a coward to talk to people!* he thought to himself. Lex swallowed his pride and got his schedule. He went to a girl named Phoebe and asked "Umm excuse me...can you help me find my dorm?"

[Assistant]
Brenner cooly nodded. "Yup. I'm Brenner. Brenner Stange. Or to some people, I'm Brenner Stranger." He shot a cold look a Tryla, before smiling like he had been kidding around the whole time. He pulled out a chair and sat down, curious as to what he should take as an elective. "Ah! I know!" He said quietly. "I'm really intered in Astrology! Why not, eh?" He signed in and revied his class schedule and dorm info. He leaned over Tryla shoulder and asked, "So what'cha taking for an elective?"
@Framing A Moose

[User]
Tryla jumped a little and stiffined up when he shot her a dirty look. When he broke into a smile, she relaxed a little. "Jeez man, I was just making a joke. Chill." She then turned to Lance. "I'm Tryla, queen of the galaxy...that actually has a bit of a ring to it, don't you think?" she said with a smirk. She then followed Brenner, calling to the boy the had just met, "Come sit with us if you want." before taking the seat to the left of Brenner. "Hmmm...Well, I've actually seen astronomy up close, so I'd be good at it...but then again, I may want to try something new..." she gazed at the computer, pondering the decision.

@pkken

[Assistant] Lance took a seat as well, "well I'm Lance, Lance Carter, neither of my parents have super powers or anything but I was chosen to be a green lantern" Lance said flashing his ring. The people he just met had been quite friendly," I'm also a new student here as well" Lance let out a friendly smile.

[User]
Katherin wondered if any of the new students would be in elective classes. She had taken psychology and English. They would classes she needed to get the degree that she wanted. She knew that she wanted her 'normal' job to be a counselor. She just needed to decide on a name for her alter ego. She had a few ideas but none of them felt right. She wanted something that was unique and memorable.

---

Zack decided to headed to class. He doubted that he would need Griffin to take over in Mimic's class today. Being the first day the first day the probably wouldn't do anything too violent. Probably to see what everyone'should baseline was. He wasn't a huge fan of Mimic but he could handle the older man as long as the class he has expected to fight someone. He didn't like fighting. That was why Griffin. Took Mimic'a class and their hands on fighting class. While he took gym and the mechanical engineering class.

[Assistant]
There was a screech at the front of the school, as a car pulled up. The door opened and let out a stream of curses that dissipated into the air. A heavyset young woman got out, wincing with the first few steps. It was strange to her to be on legs. Were these shoes always going to be so painful? Her skin was dark brown and had a slight sheen to it, as if it was wet. Her hair was frost white and her clothes would probably be seen as 'strange' to others. A flowing top paired with a skirt down to her calves, and sandals. She'd been told that shoes were required. She already hated them. As she looked toward the school, a stream of complaints continued from the car.

"Honestly, these humans and their transportation! Who teaches these people to operate vehicles?! And you can talk on a cellular while driving? My goodness there should be an edict against this, I should petition to King Namor, and-" The ceaseless flow of anger stopped short, and a person with pale green skin and much greener hair poked their head out of the car. He flashed a sheepish smile at the young woman. "I apologize for our lateness, miss Kassandra. I have already informed the administration, you already have your lodgings and courses assigned. Be well, and stay in contact."

"It's alright. I'll send a message within a few days. Wish me luck!" Kassy smiled back, and bowed politely. Then she headed into the Academy, hoping that she wasn't going to be TOO strange compared to everyone else.

--

Kijani stood outside, staring upward at the Academy. Her small suitcase was beside her, and the taxi that had brought her here was already gone. She thought about her first day, last year. She'd had a private ride, a suitcase that weighed as much as her, and a mission to rule the school. Now she had no ride, no mission, and a lot less stuff. She hated to admit it, but she was afraid.

How many rumors were flying around, about why she'd missed nearly 3 months worth of classes last year? How many of them knew the truth? How many looks of disdain was she going to get, or worse, the stares and the empty platitudes of pity? What of the whispers, the 'did you hear she tried to--'

Kijani hugged herself, trying to fight off a nauseating wave of fear. She suddenly didn't want to do this, but she had nowhere else to be. Everyone she knew was here, even if they all probably (and rightfully) hated her. She'd traveled over the summer. Even without her grandmother's backing, she had her own money and resources. She went through Europe, Asia, and Africa, trying to soak up the history of the ancient world, and maybe find her own self in the present world. She had the distinct feeling that she'd failed, though. After all, she was back in the same place she'd left- tried to leave in such a dramatic fashion the year before. She had no idea who was still here. Connor was the one she trusted most, and she'd stopped contacting him after a few weeks during the summer. It hadn't been her intention, but now she didn't know where they stood anymore. She wasn't sure she wanted the answer.

Taking a few deep breaths to steel herself, she headed for the main part of the campus. Standing here would do nothing but make her more ill. Even after everything, she was still Kijani, she was still a woman of power.

"You can do this, Kijani."

[User]
Connor would perhaps never know what caused him to turn around. Instinct perhaps. A sense of something, a prickle at the base of his spin. Whatever it was, he turned. And there she was. Kijani. The smile spread slowly across his face, pleasure at simple seeing her, at knowing she was alright filling him. He saw that she was...not so much afraid, as...at odds.

He moved towards her, his long strides eating up the ground easily. For one brief moment, he was afraid. She had, after all, stopped responding to him the last few months. Connor was, if nothing else, patient. He'd broken through her exterior once, he could do it again if she shut him out.

"Kijani" There was nothing there, but simply pleasure at seeing her again.
Dizzy

---

"I can take you to the Admin office, I don't quite know where Ms Fox is" Although it would be a simple matter to lock into Fox's feelings and track her down, Kalinda would rather not do that. She didn't take the piece of paper, not particularly wishing to risk touching the girls hand. Just being in close proximity was enough to make her uneasy. More for herself then the girl, Kalinda took a breath, and manipulated her emotions, producing a calming effect. Hopefully it would work and the girl would relax. "I'm Kainda, by the way"

---

Phoebe looked to the booy who spoke, a smile already working its way on her face, but it faltered for a split second, before coming full. "Hi! Sure thing, have you registered first? Do you have a dorm number? The guys dorms are just this way, if you have the number, I can show you" She said brightly, friendly.
pokes @Avanhelsing @Zerofighter

[Assistant] Lex said "Yes I have my class schedule, but I dont know where my dorm number is, so I dont think Im registered." Lex bit his lip hating how nervous he sounded. Father would think he was a joke. His dad was a great peoples person.

[User]
Kijani froze up at hearing her name, seeing Connor coming at her. Her internal reaction was torn between wanting to rush into his arms... and wanting to run in the other direction. It wasn't quite fear, but more apprehension at being united with the one person on the planet who knew her heart. Love was a scary thing to her.

But no one ever conquered the world by being afraid.

She took a step forward, then another, and before she knew it she was in his arms, clutching him tight, looking up (way up?) at him.

"Connor..." She gazed at him, just taking him in. "Did you grow again? Geez, I'm gonna need taller heels." She felt a stupid grin cross her face, and hid herself in his chest. Inhaling, she felt the knot in her stomach relax. Maybe she'd be alright after all.

"I missed you."

--

Kassy walked slowly through the campus, just taking in the scenery. The world above was still utterly fascinating to her; the plants and trees were so different here. She stopped to look at a massive tree with little flowers, and noticed a boy sitting in it. She didn't know you could do that! But it made sense. If she could climb, she might want to stay in the green beauty of a tree.

"Ah, hello!" She raised her hand, and after a moment's recollection about countries and greeting customs, waved to him. "A... are you having a nice morning up there?"


[System]
Bianca's theme after her kidnapping
Age: 17

Gender: Female

Race: Faunus (Snowy Owl)
Her flying speed is approximately 22 MPh

Weapon: Gelure is a steel Katana imbued with ice dust. This was Bianca's first weapon, which was destroyed yet still salvaged during her kidnapping by the Dodici family. Gelure is an odd weapon as it is weighted terribly and typically would be considered unusable by most competent swordsmen. However, because of Bianca's semblance she is able to correct its weighting and make use of it. She is able to use the dust inside of the Katana in a variety of ways, for example stabbing the ground she can create an igloo-like dome in for protection. She is also able to create ice mid slash and by doing so launch chunks of ice at her opponents with deadly speeds.

Once Bianca makes her return to Beacon, Estelle will give Bianca her Second Weapon to replace her first, as it was lost.

C'est la Vie: Bianca's second weapon is a purse – or rather, a clutch. Its base is composed entirely of the element Osmium. One of the densest elements known to man, and the clutch weighs just shy of a single metric ton. It was Bianca's personal handbag when she was much younger. She would use it in order to practice her semblance when it was developing in its early stages. Given to her by her sister upon visiting Bianca in the medical ward at Beacon, its named felt somewhat ironic. Bianca normally wouldn't be able to hold it. However, dude to the nature of her semblance, the smaller an object is the easier it is to control. By utilizing a combination of repulsion and attraction she is able to maintain it in her hand without actually feeling its weight. This is how she wields it but maintains its incredible stopping power.

C'est la Vie contains an inscription upon its surface that Estelle herself inscribed, it reads: "Petit a petit, l'oiseau fait son nid" It is an old Mistralesian saying that roughly translates to: "Little by little, the bird makes its nest." Estelle hoped it would help with Bianca's recovery, a beautiful purse that she used to practice with, bringing her back to a sense of her early life and joys. The purse, having been originally used for training does have a function to reduce its weight. The user must channel their aura into the handbag in order to lighten it, the more aura, the longer it is weighted as a normal handbag. This is one of the main weaknesses of the weapon – as it can accept anyone's aura.

C'est la Vie does have a secondary mode, it is that of a spear. The purse folds in on itself and extends horizontally, forming a jagged crystalline spear. She can use her abilities with attraction and repulsion in order to actively use the spear at a range in order to fight those without coming up to them. It may shift back at Bianca's will as long as it is in her hands.

Specialty: Bianca primarily plays an assassin role in fights as she has the ability to fly with her wings. This allows her to be very agile and boast incredible mobility on tougher landscapes for her allies. Her wings are powerful enough to easily carry her through the air at speeds reaching just above her maximum sprinting speed on land. With strain on Bianca, she could fly while carrying someone roughly her own size for approximately ten minutes at about half her normal speed.

Bianca's mother and father are both professional duelists with a sword. Thusly from a young age she received some of the best available tutelage since near the age she could walk. She has become quite adept at not only using her wings to her advantage but has also learned how to duel.

Semblance: L'appel du Vide – Bianca's semblance is one of attraction and repulsion. She is able to repel or attract things towards or away from a desired location. An example of this semblance is when she is fighting she can repel an enemy's sword from her own and follow through with a strike that will go unblocked. Bianca's semblance however has a few quirks and limitations however.

The first limitation is the slower something is moving, the easier it is to affect. An example of this is when she hovers above the ground she isn't using her wings as much as she is repelling her own body from the ground. Because the ground will not move, she finds it incredibly easy to repel herself from it. It should be known that Bianca is able to send out a wave of attraction or repulsion in any direction or in a wide area, but it is considerably less powerful when compared to targeting one specific person or object.

The first quirk this semblance has is that smaller objects are easier to push and pull whereas larger objects are more difficult - their weight does not matter. This also ties hand in hand with the second quirk in which objects that want to be moves are much easier. For example it is much more difficult to redirect a sword swing then it is to make someone move faster (who wants to of course).

The second limitation of Bianca's semblance is that while she does find it easy to use her semblance from a distance, maintaining more than two attraction or repulsion fields is unrealistic. It would take up a great deal of energy and leave her exhausted and unable to battle.

Dépaysement – Bianca's upgraded semblance. In a moment of dire need, Bianca can turn her semblance in on herself completely. First to accomplish this she channels all of the aura typically required by her semblance into the tip of her fingers. It shines a brilliant white light, almost opalescent. She then turns this light unto herself, seemingly clutching it and bringing it towards her heart. Once this happens the aura will channel through her body and she herself will begin to shimmer in a brilliant opalescent light. This will also cause her wings to grow to just over twice their typical size. These are not technically Bianca's wings but her aura adding to them. They are shimmering white wings, angelic in appearance but made only of aura.

This form Bianca takes acts as a physical boost of her abilities, however it comes at a price. She loses all previous abilities of her semblance making flight a bit more complicated than it previously would've been. She needs to rely solely on her wings at this point, meaning she wouldn't be able to carry anyone without a great deal of hassle and exertion. This also means that she can no longer block projectiles with her semblance, nor can she shift C'est La Vie's form from the one it is currently in upon activating her secondary semblance.

The benefits of this form are as follows. Bianca is just over four times as fast as she previously was and has complete command of the skies when flying alone. While she is immediately made a bigger target she is also stronger as well. She can quite easily lift C'est La Vie with minimal help from her aura (much less than without this state). It should also be not does not gain that she does not gain any other abilities outside of a physical boon, however that boon is quite strong – being able to strike through five foot wide concrete piller with a fairly soft punch when this form is active. If Bianca ends this form before five minutes are up she'll be able to walk away from the fight on her own accord, however five minutes is her upper timer before fainting due to over exertion. She also consumes a large amount of calories when in this form, meaning her dietary intake will have to increase as to not waste away.

Overall, while this form could be seen as a lateral move, it simply gives Bianca more options as a fighter if her primary semblance is ineffective against her current opponent. She is also much more suited to fighting a greater amount of grimm in this form than her previous. However, she loses much utility and her ability to aid her team is greatly diminished. It is most certainly a tradeoff.

Personality:

Bianca is very different when placed in comparison to most Faunus. She is from a wealthy and well respected family in Haven and has been brought up to have an air of excellence about her. She doesn't look down on others, but she finds great passion and happiness in expenses and fine dining. Bianca doesn't lack any self-confidence and instead prides herself as a Faunus, often flaunting her wings to others. Among other things, such as fashion, fine dining and sword fighting, Bianca finds herself most excited when she doesn't know how something will play out; this has caused her to become somewhat rash and willing to take risks.

She was raised to use her power and wealth to help those who are excellent find their place in this world. Thusly it is her dream to one day teach at Beacon so that she may find youth that seem excellent and help them become something grander than what they may've accomplished on their own. While Bianca typically has either a kind disposition or a very serious one she has been known to make puns from time to time, she enjoys getting a laugh out of her teammates. She also has been known to force fashion advice on her friends and teammates.

After the events of Zephyr, in which Bianca was kidnapped shortly after her mother's funeral and physically, emotionally, and mentally tortured by the Dodici family – Bianca came back changed. Her wings clipped, she found herself unable to fly. She stopped reading her fashion magazines, found herself staring at the bottom of an empty glass more often and while Ozpin told her after her recovery she could rejoin the Huntsman ecosystem as a member of JCL she found herself worried, she couldn't look at people with the confidence she once did, she no longer showed her wings off to students, faltering at Napoli's puns, wincing at Gratia's coldness. The things she once held dear to her ripped from her.

At the behest of her sister, she has begun to paint again after returning from her kidnapping. She has kept her quirks but finds them less pronounced now.

After murdering Vitoria Dodici Bianca has begun suffering through incredibly potent anxiety attacks due to a subset of post-traumatic stress disorder. When she first returns to active duty, the sound of a gun going off in a small - contained area, not unlike the vehicle she was in when she shot Vitoria, has triggered them. Another, less notable trigger for her anxiety attacks has been speaking about death.

Color: Pinot Noir Purple

Emblem: A black circle with two yellow circular eyes with black lines spiraling from the edges of the iris to the center of the pupil.

Appearance:

[User]
Gratia Mindaro - An Old Friend

A pair of black-clad arms wrapped gently around Bianca, pulling her into an embrace, the soft, woolen fabric of the turtleneck warm against her clammy skin. If the dark tearstains forming on the jumper were a problem to the owner of the turtleneck, there was no indication. The face of the crying young girl was pressed up against a shoulder, the tears trailing down her pale cheeks like raindrops on a dusty windowpane continuing to soak into into the cloth.

They stayed that way, the silence broken only by the Faunus girl's choked sobbing and the quiet rumbling of the car engine.

"You really are a fucking birdbrain, aren't you, Bianca?"

A soft, tender voice - almost a whisper.

Gentle fingers ran gingerly through silky, snow-white locks.

[Assistant]
Gratia Mindaro – An Old Friend
Bianca's Dirge

Bianca was pulled into a soft embrace and for a brief moment in time, nothing changed. She sat there, awkwardly facing Gratia in the front of the SUV, weeping into the girl's shoulder. A ginger hand came up to meet her hair, decidedly and slowly made it's way through her hair. She did not deserve this. She could not be sav-

"You really are a fucking birdbrain, aren't you, Bianca?"

When Bianca was a little girl on the run in the poorer side of Mistral, she had met a younger Gratia. She remembered that she always regretted telling Gratia her first and last name, she'd never hear the girl call her by her first name because of it. It was a silly little thought.

The snowy owl dropped the gun as it clattered against the floor in the passenger side of the vehicle and embraced Gratia. Pulling herself farther into her guardian's shoulder. Her arms quickly found themselves around Gratia has she helplessly grasped at anything. She felt like she was finally not falling any longer. When she was being held still. Bianca's voice poked out through the silence that had quickly followed.

"Tell me what you need me to do and it's done." Bianca told her teammate. She was ready to be used or sent away. That was Gratia's call. "I'm alright now, I'm fine." Bianca's voice was raw, but steady. The girl felt more numb than fine, but numb could accomplish a mission, finish what they had started, perform a task.

[User]
Gratia Mindaro - An Old Friend

"Bullshit."

The young girl was nuzzled further against the warm, black wool of the jumper. Close enough to feel her friend's soft breaths.

"I refuse to let you keep getting hurt."

The mission was to rescue Bianca. That was the only objective. To bring the girl back safe and sound.

Watching Bianca sob painful tears into her shoulder, fingers brushing delicately through a mess of white curls in hopes of bringing even the slightest comfort, Gratia Mindaro did not believe that the mission was at all a success. Before her was not the proud, excitable woman for whom the brightest of blue skies was a home. There were no warm, kindly smiles. There was no strong, supportive hand. There was none of Nuit's enthusiasm.

Only a little Faunus girl.

Just Bianca; lost and broken, cast away in stormy seas.

"Get some rest, Bianca," she said quietly, tone almost sisterly. "You've been through too much shit."

That's why ...

"I'll take care of it."

She was going to make things right.

So that the little girl could fly again.

[Assistant]
Gratia Mindaro – An Old Friend

Bianca listened to Gratia. While some may have been surprised by the girl's tone, her choice of words. Bianca knew it had been there. She was not concerned nor was she stunned. She was simply, warm. She felt the heat begin to flush into her numb legs, fingers, and lungs. Gratia's tender fingers were stroking Bianca's hair. She hadn't even known realized that the car was still running.

Bianca began to sniffle, as her tears well up. She pulled away from Gratia and wiped her face gingerly. Bianca looked at Gratia with eyes so big they looked to be able to capture the entire world in their gaze.

"Thank you." And they did. Bianca's world began and ended with Gratia at this moment in time. She ripped her from perdition and gave Bianca a second chance. It was something she'd never pay back in full. But she would never stop paying it back.

"I'll wait here for extraction, you do your best." Bianca said with a smile like one a kid may bear when getting a present they know they don't deserve. She looked Gratia up and down one last time before embracing her friend once more. "I'm sorry you've been forced to do this. To come here and clean up this mess." Bianca said motioning towards herself."But this will not happen again. I-" Through Bianca's peripherals the corpse of one Vitoria Dodici greeted her. Bianca tightened her grip on Gratia and dared not move. She said through pursed lips as she held back her tears, she would not bother her friend any longer. She would leave them to their wanton destruction of the Dodici Cosca.

So there she sat. Embracing her friend whom had set her on the path of redemption. She dared not let go.


[System]
Username: Banana
Race/Species: Human Lycanthrope (Bania)

Gender: Male

Age: 73

Career/Class: Priest of Maestus / Noble

Weapons/Magic:
* A trident, stained at the tip with tiny specks of blood, and of elven-craftsmanship.
* A shield, outfitted with razor-sharp spikes at the crest, perfect for bashing.
* Knowledgable in healing magic, and is an expert at it.

Physical Description:
An old, but muscular man, with a long white beard coming from his face and accenting his wisdom, and a scar coming down from his green eyes, obtained when he was an adventurer back in his golden years. He stands slightly taller than most other men, and he has broader shoulders as well. Ursaren walks with a slight limp, and often uses his trident as a sort of walking-staff when he's not fighting.

Armor:
A set of sky-blue priest robes cover his body, which visibly show signs of mending by someone who is not a tailor. Over the robes, a steel chest piece is equipped, complete with a set of bracers and greaves to accompany it.

Equipment/Other:
A hood covers his face, casting a shadow over his eyes, helping the whole "wise old man" vibe get across to others. He is good with brewing potions and elixirs, even to the point where he made liquid medicine taste decently. He does have a dark secret though, as previously mentioned in his race.
Under a full moon, Ursaren goes through a transformation into a werebear, which he has been afflicted with for a good 44 years. At the current understanding and state Ursaren is at, he is able to become a werebear at will (obtained about 2 years ago, so not much experience with it however) and still be able to speak as one, albeit it's rather basic language. He loses the limp as a werebear, and is a force to be reckoned with when fought alone.

Mental Description/Personality:
Ursaren is a wise, jolly, and rather devious elder. More often than not, he will be glad to share his knowledge over a subject if asked for advice, even going further and giving advice over more things. He believes everyone is good at heart, and is able to change their ways in the name of common good and justice. The downside to his ideals is that he's too trusting of strangers, and can let his judgement lead to his downfall. He also has a habit of getting off topic when he's giving advice, even spiraling into "how when life gives you lemons, make orangeade from magic!"

Goals:
Nobody but Ursaren knows why he's going to the Southlands, and honestly, he'd rather keep it a secret. He may just go for the hell of it, or he may go for more fame. Either way, he'll enjoy the trip and he'll help pass time with stories around a campfire.

Background/History:
* Born into a middle-class Praelior family of merchants and doctors, specializing in medicine and elixirs instead of magic when it came to healing.
* Became the healer for a group of stocky adventurers at the younger age of 23, eventually becoming the party's main defense and last word of what to do in a situation.
* Learned how to cast very basic healing at the age of 24 (He could brew insane potions prior to that.)
* Started using a trident-shield combo at 27, inspired by the adventuring leader's prowess in the skill. Trident was obtained as his share of the loot, and a personal gift from the party leader.
* Cursed by some sort of witch-doctor at 29, leading to him becoming a werebear for the rest of his days. This led to him leaving the party a few months later in fear that he'd hurt them.
* From the ages of 29 to 41, he lived in a small village where he honed his transformations and began following Maestus as a priest.
* At the age of 41, he left the village to go live in Bania and spread the influence of Maestus, while also gaining recognition as a mage and pursuing more studies.
* At the age of 60, a noble in Bania grew very ill and hired Ursaren as a healer/caretaker, eventually growing to the point where the two were best friends.
* The ill noble died when Ursaren hit the age of 71, and left what he owned in Bania to the old priest, and encouraged Ursaren to enjoy life and continue being the fun old man he was.

[User]
An-Hasst nearly instantly had that certain aspect of 'Uh-oh!' written right into his face, but what really gave him a bad gut feeling was that this oversized lizard had nothing else to do than to issue an Argon-style warning. To others, including the stone giant the Skayleigh was currently attached to, it could probably sound more like an aggression however. Now An-Hasst probably was not the best person in the party to ask about anger management, but this was something he, at least according to his own retrospective, would not have done. It really wasn't as if a stone giant roughly twice the size of himself would have required much of an audible warning to everyone around, was it ? Calanon would be able to hear this guy from very far away, let alone see.

"I apologize." were An-Hasst's last words before he decided to jump off the stone giant before the latter had much of a chance to grab him. Featuring a surprisingly fast sumersault the Skayleigh landed close to Argon, but without causing that much of a bang for his tremendous size.

"Don't you dare to do that again!" he addressed Argon in more of a whispering tone, but still a very decisive one. "I recognize what he is but I don't know if he recognizes that I am half of his kind, in some way..."
Having said this, An-Hasst stepped forward in as much of a calm motion as he could muster at this point. He craned his neck in order to look at the stone giant's face from below, then started speaking:

"It was not our intention to disturb you, neither would it have been mine to, well..., utilize you as an observation point if I had known about your true nature in advance. We are travelers on a journey that will lead us through here. Do you have any objections to this ?"

@Gardevoiran@BCTheEntity@The Fated Fallen@POOHEAD189@IcePezz

[Assistant]
As Calanon scouted ahead a measure of tension descended upon Alice. She suddenly had a cold feeling that she was sure she didn't know the way back, and wished she had gone with their elven guide. Of course, such an idea was flawed, which is why she didn't. She distracted herself by watching Argon out of the corner of her eye, focusing on the minutia of his strange movements. The academic in her was working out how she would put such movements to text.

The tension was shattered, however, by Argon roaring at the top of his lungs. They were being attacked! Alice hefted her staff and positioned herself to the middle of the canyon where she could get the best sight-lines, glancing at Argon to see where he was looking and where the foe was coming from.

They were coming from... Up? Alice followed his eyes to... The statue! Of course! There was little magical energies in the local area, so she drew forth what she could. The statue moved! She saw it! Despite her rising panic, she noticed An-Hasst was relatively calm and forced herself to act similarly. Any hostility would complicate the situation. She suddenly felt embarrassed for acting in such haste, but Argon's roar had set off an instinct of urgency within her that even went past her normal conditioning to act calm and collected in every situation. Almost every situation, she corrected herself

An-Hasst was negotiating with the statue in the common tongue. She wasn't quite sure if it could work; supposing the statues were golems it might, though it was incredibly rare to see a construct of such intricate build and if it was it would be even more unlikely to be left sitting here the whole while. Alternatively they could be some kind of stone giant, though she was unsure if a creature like that would be able to speak common, especially so close to the border of civilisation like it was. But since she couldn't speak a word of giant herself she shut up and let An-Hasst do the talking

@Gardevoiran@BCTheEntity@Fetzen@POOHEAD189@IcePezz

[User]
Humm. Aeryn's grip was, ah, quite strong when she put her mind to it. And it was obvious she was more impressed with Beren's musculature than his own. No matter, though. He was not a jealous man, for generally he could get what he wanted out of people with his wit rather than his build. Though admittedly, a larger frame might help him escape a grasp such as... well, this, which was not actually helpful all things considered.

Beren, it seemed, had other ideas than being stuck next to her. He slipped free of her grasp and went ahead, to talk to whoever had intruded upon the village - non-violently for now, or so it seemed. Which left Sett with Aeryn... and, well, a nice view if he felt so inclined to glance over her form. He wouldn't, but he could. And actually, if he thought about it, he could probably also guide them into a position better suited to gather information from!

'Come,' he said as he guided his gripped arm to push insistently against Aeryn's back, his tone more intently serious than usual, both legitimate and feigned to some degree, 'let us move to support our ally.' Yes, support. From a ways away. And with his hand guiding her in roughly the direction he wanted, at least if she weren't actively putting up resistance, he made to bring them both toward the front of the town, stopping once the newcomer was in sight and earshot. And Fineki above, if she didn't look questionable, albeit built in a fascinating manner. He'd have to see how this situation panned out, then... at least Beren seemed relaxed for the moment.

@Gardevoiran@The Fated Fallen@Fetzen@Stormflyx@Mortarion@IcePezz

[Assistant]
"Alright, ma'am, that should be enough. Drink a few sips every hour and you'll be better in no-time." Ursaren happily told the woman. There was thankfully enough herbs and remedial ingredients in the medical area for him to use in order to brew some pretty strong potions. He mulled over every drink, making sure the concoctions were as perfect as possible, before handing them to a person, and he repeated doing so with everyone in there that needed heavy healing. Those with light scrapes and cuts, but had infected wounds, got some less powerful healing potions. Regardless, Ursaren tended to everyone as soon as he could.

A guard then came running into the room, and what he said had piqued Ursaren's interest. A visitor in this town? There wasn't even a suitable doctor in the town, so what would make someone want to come here? He thought it with all due respect, of course, but there simply wasn't much in this town to warrant someone being a visitor. Maybe they were from here originally or something, Ursaren didn't know.

The old man looked at his patients and addressed them. "I'll be right back, folks. I want to go see what all this commotion is about." After he said his word, he stepped out and joined Beren, Settionne, and the gang to watch as the visitor entered town.


[System]
Gender: Male
Age: 17
Appearance: I make this look good.

Somewhat short, slim, wiry, but with good muscle tone for someone his size. Shaggy dark brown hair, shoulder length, tied back in a messy ponytail. Wears glasses over blue eyes. Angular features, has a faint tired look to his eyes on occasion. Despite everything else on him being somewhat disordered, always wears his uniform immaculately. Sometimes seen with his hands wrapped, as though for sparring, for no immediately apparent reason.

Arcana: Moon
Personality: A man of extremes- has an unusual tendency to swing quickly from calm and erudite to loud and bombastic, favoring the latter, though he always seems to be happy for some reason. He has an unquenchable thirst for life- he loves seeking out new experiences and new ways to entertain himself as the days go along.

He throws himself into life with an unmatched passion, though he's no fool- he never takes any unnecessary risks, if he can help it. In short, on the surface he seems to be ruled by his passions in many ways, but by paying attention, one can notice a keen intellect lurking beneath the surface.

Equipment/Skills: Skilled martial artist, keen strategist, though the latter trait is sometimes undercut by Mako's commitment to spectacle. Quick and light on his feet, agile. Generally keeps sports tape/handwraps on hand, "just in case."

Uses a length of chain and a hatchet as weapons while fighting Shadows.

Background: Information on Mako's history is rather sparse for as long as he's lived in Warakuma. All anyone knows for sure is that one day Mako and his father arrived in Warakuma, with barely anything to their names except what fit into their car. Mako turned out to be only slightly more forthcoming than his father, saying the two of them left Tokyo after his parents split up. Being the small town that it was, rumors abounded regarding the mysterious origins of the man and his son, though nothing was ever confirmed in any concrete manner. Eventually, as the pair of outsiders settled in, the rumors died away, and the two were gradually accepted as simply another landmark of Warakuma.

Nowadays, most of the talk concerning the Moritomis falls on Mako's somewhat lamentable reputation as somewhat of a prankster. Though the ghost of a question will always remain, about just how the duo came to be in their sleepy little town, of all places...

Persona: Israfil
Appearance: Israfil
Abilities:
* Debilitate- Decreases 1 foe's Attack, Defense and Hit/Evasion rates for 3 turns.
* Agidyne- Deals heavy Fire damage to 1 foe
* Bufudyne- Deals heavy Ice damage to 1 foe
* Spirit Drain- Drains a small amount of SP from 1 foe

[User]
???
6/7/2015 - Monday
@Vulkan

TRACK: Aria of the Soul

As their vision returned to them, they beheld a long dining room. The first thing they would notice is the decor, blue all over, in different tasteful shades and high class furnishings. Paintings along the wall depicting some rather specific events. In front of them on the table was a carving depicting a particular number and card, for Jun, it was "The Devil", while for Katsuro, it was "The Justice". As they looked down they noticed that their clothes were different too. Katsuro wore a simple suit under a dark blue hood with gold trimmings and a side cape, while Jun wore a three piece suit, fully done up in proper.

"Welcome, to the Velvet Room", they heard a voice, they looked to the end of the table to see a man with a long nose and wide, piercing eyes. It was certainly a strange person they were looking at.

"A place between mind and matter, dream, and reality. I, am Igor, only those who have signed a contract may enter this place, and it appears we've finally filled every seat at this table too", they looked around to the other seats. It was true, every other table had a silhouette sitting at it, but some of them were recognizable.

"And this is Henrietta, she will be helping you along your journey", he motioned to the long haired woman next to him.

"Now then... You have drawn, the Devil Arcana. Impulse and sin are nothing new to you, but impulse and sin no matter the reason, is still a mere distraction. It appears you have overcome this and come to realize what you truly want", he began.

"And now... You, have drawn, the Justice Arcana. One must seek guidance amidst a time of crisis, for a long time you have gone into disarray, as there was no one you could refer to, but that will have changed now, perhaps these new friends you have made, will be there to fill the gap", it was a personal topic, but more importantly... How did this man know about all this? When either would try and ask, they would find no voice left their mouth.

"For now...", Igor clicked his fingers and Henrietta left, shortly to return with two keys on a cushion, that she would begin to walk around the table and hand to both Jun and Katsuro.

"These are keys you may use to access this room again, you will return here later of your own accord, or of requirement, but until then... Farewell", and with that, they lost consciousness.

[Assistant]
Kotori Shirohane - Sapphire Inn: Royal Suite Main Room | Sunday, July 5 2015

In the opening wrought by Akane's assault, Sato managed to deliver the decisive blow - his arrow loosened the large Shadow's grip on its sword further yet and the follow-up wind blast finally struck it clean out of its hand. With the knights stunned from the heavy bombardement, everyone was quick to realise that this was their opportunity - and thus all attention was focused on the main opponent. Momentarily unable to strike back, the attacks poured in from all sides - magical and physical, the Shadow came under heavy fire until it was reeling. It attempted to fight back even as its princess was slain, a certain distress audible even through its twisted voice - until a choice arrow fired by Sato finally breaking its desperate defense - and making the fatal opening which allowed him get a clean hit with Chronos' wind magic. He seized the opportunity to lay down a final follow-up together with his Persona to put the Shadow down for good.

Kotori, meanwhile, kept an eye out throughout it all - ever wary for any would-be surprises from either the Shadow or its knights - but also doing what she could to aid the assault with her Kikuri-Hime's help, lending her lightning strikes to the assault. It was only when the Shadow finally began to flicker and disperse that Kotori gave a sigh of relief - and the fatigue of the fight made itself known in full, even as the armour surrounding the knights began to dissolve in flakes and gave way to the unconscious prisoners therein. Kotori took a moment to catch her breath - even as she felt the almost familiar uncomfortable feeling as the shadow, now in its original form, began to speak.

As ever, it unashamedly spoke of the feelings that had been suppressed and locked away - a look at another person's inner thought which was no doubt embarassing for them, but also for Kotori who still didn't know how to balance wanting to help the conflicted kidnapees and also respecting their privacy in such moments. As such, there was little choice but to listen though - even as Jun stepped out from the protective circle that had been formed around her by the party and confronted her shadow. Kotori didn't recognise the girl - at best, she was vaguely familiar much in the vein of other schoolmates whom she might have seen but never talked to before.

Much like the times before, she couldn't help but feel some measure of worry about what might happen if Jun didn't accept this turn of events and denied her other side - but much to Kotori's relief, this did not come to pass. Instead, Jun acknowledged that, though she may not like it, she was acting in a manner that she herself no longer knew the real reason for - and instead chose to live her life according to her own choices and on her own merits. A small smile came across Kotori's face at those words - which in turn marked the transformation of the shadow; a bright light cast across the entire room as a new figure took its place: Mordred, Jun's persona.

The girl turned to face the group, evidently full of questions about what had just happened - but those would have to be answered at a later time as the tell-tale signs of fatigue made themselves known; forcing Jun to sit herself down lest she fall - which immediately preceded the loss of consciousness. Though she'd seen this pattern repeat several times now, Kotori still couldn't help but worry that everything was alright; even as everyone else started to get ready to leave the mirror world behind with Jun being carried and headed for the hospital. Having used the brief exchange as an opportunity to catch her breath, Kotori accompanied the others - at least until everyone went their separate ways from the warehouse that marked their entrance to the mirror realm.

It would be with no small amount of relief that Kotori arrived arrive at home - both knowing that another kidnapping victim was safe but also to be able to lay down to rest; even if it didn't last too long before she recalled that the finals were coming up soon and she still had some studying to do for the day.

Kotori Shirohane - Warakuma High School: Classroom 2-2 | Monday, July 6 2015 - Morning

This time around, it seemed that the usual rumour mill surrounding the kidnappings was quite a bit quieter - which didn't come as too much of a surprise, seeing as the events had occured over the weekend and thus couldn't cause quite as much of a commotion as some of the previous incidents when the victims didn't show up for class. Still, Kotori still heard her fair share of stories being murmured on her way to her classroom - and not few of them were quite clearly being told as second-hand accounts or worse, seeing as there would have to have been at least a dozen kidnappings all over town for all the things she heard to be true.

Stymying the usual spread too were the not upcoming finals which hung over the whole school - some seemed to have already given up hope, others were just putting things off until whilst Kotori couldn't help but feel the usual pre-exam worries, even before the immediate tests began. In fact, she felt even more thereof as she had to regretfully decline multiple requests from other students that she helped them study - between her own studying, helping out at home, occasional forays into the mirror world and club meetings, she wouldn't have much of a reliable schedule; not even taking into account the fact that just imagining herself somehow trying to teach others made her nervous at the prospect.

Taking her seat in the classroom toward the front, Kotori gave a small sigh - but this time because she had inadvertantly reminded herself of the Agriculture Club meeting that was to take place later today. Whilst the colourful sight of the many flowers was always welcome, the same could not be said for the strange mood that hung between her fellow members, Shizuka and Matthew. Both seeing them as they were and also not knowing whether or how to help would do ittle to raise her mood for the rest of the day - which she already wasn't looking forward to, as she'd have to be paying a visit to the hospital later.

[User]
Shizuka Otonashi || Agriculture Club Garden (Courtyard) || July 6 MON: After School

Shizuka simply stared at the saplings she was watering, deep in thought all the while. Not only was she unable to continue with the venturing into the depths of the dungeon, she had to ask Matt, the upperclassman, to take her place in the dungeon party. While the student felt awfully guilty for having someone else be in danger in her place, Shizuka wondered if she could be of any use to the team in the future. "I must have been given these powers for a reason... It's only right to assist people in need with them...!"

Lips parted to release a sigh. There was something else clouding her mind and it was the reason she would only visit the garden and not the actual agriculture club room nowadays. Matthew Harvester. In an attempt to recollect her thoughts of that fateful day, to why they were in such a state, Shizuka wondered if she were the one in wrong. Did she really do this for his sake? Was it some kind of repentance? Maybe she just didn't feel worthy of him anymore after her inner thoughts were revealed. But even then... wasn't Matt willing to accept her then?

Shaking her head off of those thoughts, the freshman proceeded to put on a pair of gardening gloves to pull out the weeds which had taken residence along the plot of land. It felt like it was just yesterday when the club members worked on this garden when it was freshly plowed for the club. Then there were times where the upperclassman would find the younger student here, just to help her take care of their plants. Smiling thoughtfully at the fondful memories, a teardrop ran along her cheek. "Huh...?"

Before it went out of control, Shizuka wiped away the tears with the gloved hand, unknowingly smudging soil upon her cheek slightly. Shizuka admitted, with tears as proof of this, she dearly missed the carefree days she had with Matthew.

[Assistant]
Mako Moritomi//Game Over Arcade
Monday, July 6, 2015

---

Mako's face was the picture of focus as he stared at the screen in front of him, skillfully manipulating his onscreen avatar to savage his opponent, the complete rout he was delivering the only indication of the turmoil lurking behind his emotionless facade. He grimaced to himself as he finished off his opponent in Persona 4: Ultimax Ultra Suplex Hold, thinking that he should get some coffee and food soon, because that monologue sounded crazy, even to himself. He rotated his wrist, sighing to himself, before preparing for his next fight in the game, trying to ignore the impending situation that awaited him.

For what must have been the thousandth time since he got here and sent his text, he thought of Sato, trying and failing to ignore the flutter in his gut at the thought of the upperclassman. Although, wasn't that the point of this meeting? To stop ignoring it? He tried to concentrate on the game in front of him, but the dam had already burst, and there was no use trying to cram the feelings back in. He pulled away from the arcade cabinet as his virtual self of the hour was finished off, and jammed his hands into his pockets.

I really hope this works, he thought to himself. It's gonna suck if I did all of this pining for nothing.

The facts were these: Mako liked Sato. Not just as a friend, or a mentor, or senpai, but romantically. The times he spent with Sato... they made him happy. Happier than when he spent time with literally anyone else. And he really liked being happy. So, in the interest of not turning his life into a bad romantic manga or anime, here he was, having sent an invitation to Sato to come hang out, waiting to tell him how he felt, and hope to whatever entities dwelled in heaven that his senpai felt the same. He certainly seemed to- his speech to Mako during his first foray into the Mirror World at least implied that he cared significantly for him. But did "significantly" mean "romantically?"

Well, if I never ask, I'll never know. It was... nerve-wracking, sure. But he had to do it, or else resign himself to months and months of "Will I? Won't I?" bullshit shenanigans. All he had to do now... was wait.

...I really hope this works out.


[System]
Character Sheet

---
Age: 164
Legion: Dark Angels
Planet of Origin: Caliban
Physical Description: A large scar, runs across the right to left on his face. On top his head a fiery red hair, his forest green eyes have a piercing and emotional gaze. Slightly taller than most of the other warriors from Caliban his appearance lacks heavier scaring of most veterans. His armor mark III power armour is worn from his time fighting to suppress the Gordian league alongside his brothers.

Skillset: A knight of Caliban and more importantly a warrior of the Lion's six great wings, before he could ride he first had to power his skill with a blade and bolt gun. Among the Lion's troops a great diversity of skills is found, yet each is narrowed to field where they excel. For him it was with the more specialized calvary of Dark Angels. With his new place among his brothers the younger Caliban born marine learned by practice duels with his brothers. His control and mastery of a chain sword is nothing to scoff at nor is his ability to bravely operate the dangerous plasma rifle.

History: Ywain had heard the rumors from his brothers, the first legion had been far from the fighting when the Heresy began. However order came down quickly to quell the rumors, they had a campaign to win against the Xenos scum and human allies. Yet twenty members of the Ravenwing were called back, they were to be given a special mission. To return to Caliban and inform Luther of the treachery and to order him to hold back his forces securing the sector and prepare to defend Caliban from the Traitor Legions, until the Lion could return and regroup his forces.

Thrilled to be given a chance to return home and the trust of his Primarch to complete such a mission. Under a few of his more veteran brothers they were given a small ship and sent to deliver a message to the Lion's second. However they never reached the lush forest world, they picked a distress call from a world as they passed by it, a message from the Night Lords requesting aid. Freezing there mission believing loyal brothers needed aid, the always stead fast Dark Angel's prepared their bikes and chain swords.

The lie brought the vessel above the planet, the marines airdropped on their bikes rushing towards the outpost weapons drawn. Then heavy bolter fire from the base began striking down the front row bikes, as unsuspecting angels slammed into the wreckage of bikes, the Night Lords ambush group descended upon them. Unrelenting and cruel they did kill the marine, instead ripping them into pieces, Ywain turned his away from the base as the screams of his captain pierce the jungle of the planet.

They tried to send message yet it was to late, the Night Lords had attacked the ship once the marines were away and seized the vessel. Content with trapping the survivors upon the planet with not even the corpses of their comrades to bury they waited. Eventually entering the outpost they found the place had been how to a small human outpost team who had attempted to warn other of the traitors and paid with lives for loyalty. As time went on they discovered the planet held Beasts akin to those that once roamed Caliban.

They were driven by the sense of dread and hate these Angels now held for planet and the Night Lords yet the smell of blood and corpses also brought them close. They salvaged what they could bolter rounds, a lone heavy bolter, and a handful of chain swords. Ywain took up a plasma rifle he'd straped to his bike as they began the siege, yet when the deed was done only Ywain left standing. The bikes they had ruined. Only a bolt pistol, one of the bolt guns pried off his bike and a chain sword remained.

Using parts and after weeks of hard work he finally managed to get the beacon working again, now he sat alone waiting for death or his chance to hunt those who claimed his brothers.

Psychological Profile: Ywain is knight of Caliban as much as he is a Space Marine, he holds himself and his brothers to the code of the Order and to the laws of the Imperium. He loves his home world and adores the fact he was chosen to be a hero bringing peace to the galaxy. Currently however his mindset is one of pain and betrayal, forgetting his mission to deliver a message, Ywain wants blood and the head of the Night Lords who destroyed his brothers before his very eyes and left them to die at the hands of Chaos spawn. Yet he also see's this as a blessing, since the Lion purged Caliban of Beasts he has now proven himself worthy of being a night of the Order as well as a Dark Angel.

Equipment:
* Tigrus Pattern Bolter
* Phobos Pattern Bolt pistol
* Thunder Edge Pattern Chainsword

Notes: Is very lonely and full of rage, feeling he can't trust any other Legionaire's until loyalty is proven.

[User]
Without Remorse

---

The patrols and the people running from the Chateau along the access road leading out were the problem of Prodigal Son and his fellow Luna Wolves, as they thought of themselves. Who they were, why they were there, whether or not they were innocent or guilty, it didn't matter. With the savage cunning of his legion, they laid the next trap for the next patrol and fell upon them with fist and knife, eschewing the more powerful weapons as unnecessary. They collected wargear in this fashion, grenades mostly, though one of the brothers took up a flamer, hooking the backpack a normal human would wear to his power armour's belt, as a prize from the fighting.

The other prize was the enemy's comm systems, which Prodigal Son himself patched into his helmet's systems. That allowed him to track the last patrol, even as he took note of the time; the assault would begin soon.

Three patrols down, and they used their autosenses and their own hearing and sight to try to locate more prey in the hunt. Once the noise started, he unlimbered his bolter and others did the same, for the time was past when they'd need such a thing. The last group were headed toward the conflagration of the Chateau; they were alert and aware, and there wouldn't be an easy opportunity to close with them, especially as they headed for the enclosure where the Rhinos were...

[Assistant]
Even as the defenders opened up on the World Eaters that were charging their positions, two of the more faint hearted of their number near the back had taken fright at the Marines that were coming towards them. Turning to flee like cowards, they instead dropped to the ground as they clutched at their heads while screaming in purest agony. Their muscles forcefully shifted, their bones snapped and knitted themselves back together in new, stronger shapes as their skin was rent open to revel fissures an unnaturally red, unholy glowing substance that hurt the mind just to gaze at.

The same unholy glow seemed to consume both of their eyes and at back of their throats as they wordlessly screamed in agony before surging upwards to their feet like a puppet having their strings pulled... before turning around and letting out a roar that sounded like a mixture of the deepest of pains and the most all consuming of rages as both of them charged towards the World Eaters at speeds normal humans shouldn't have been able to ran at, one of them swiping at the head of one of his former, unchanged comrades as they pasted and taking his head clean off with a demonic looking claw!

[User]
Finishing the checks, he exited the vehicle standing atop it with bolt pistol and chain sword at the ready. He jumped down on to the ground looking around trying to determine if any enemies were advancing on the newly acquired transports. He stopped at the sound of a scream, he'd heard many but that... It reminded of the monsterous being he'd faced down while waiting for rescue. He feared nothing but the memory of those horrors was something that he would never truly be free of.

Clearing the vehicle bay, he took position. "I will remain with the transport's, keep them safe from any stragglers or survivors trying to make use of them for escape." He was one of the youngest here, and more importantly he lacked the veteran status of some of the others. He'd fought in the great crusade it was true but his father the Lion had been discovered latter than most. Yet the Dark Angel's in a short amount of time had proven themselves to be an outstanding Legion, with clever tactics and adaptable wings. Like he ached to spill the blood of traitors in vengeance, he knew his place was here protecting the captured transports.

As he pushed the vehicles into the small garage locking it behind himself, he felt cold. As if an unnatural presence was nearby, acting on a whim he moved towards the repair bay of the garage autosense's helping him to search through the darkened building bolt pistol and chainsword ready for whatever came at him.

[Assistant]
The Sons of Horus were the arch-traitor legion, though Lorgar's Word Bearers planted the seeds, but they had one of the best records of them all in the Great Crusade. Cthonian ferocity was harnessed into the legion, supplementing the gene-seed-implanted ferocity of the original Terrans that made such an impact on the Luna campaigns.

Under Horus, they were throat-slitting killers whose instincts were put into the service of Humanity. But they also venerated their Primarch, shouting "LUPERCAL!" as they sprung into battle. Some of that was on display as the small group of Luna Wolves in this ragged band handled the perimeter duty and silenced sentries brutally with fist and knife, which was a return to the hive gang war tactics some of the recruits, had they said anything of their origins, might have learned in their upbringing. But now, they faced a different situation and a tactical shift was in order as the noise came from the Chateau and the bolters were unlimbered as they loped toward their final target, approaching the Rhinos that the Dark Angel guarded.

Prodigal Son may well have been a silent leader, at least to the outsiders, but he was a tactician to the bone, and he'd positioned himself to come to the aid of other Space Marines when the unexpected happened. They would never say the name of their Primarch at all, but they still knew how to fight.

A bolter shell was a mass-reactive shell that left a horrific and gory wound that was terminal, particularly to a normal human being like the militiamen. And yet, the fire did not bring the enemies down; his own bolt barked out of the barrel and found its mark, except the mark was growing exponentially, expanding like a balloon, with red-glowing eyes and eldritch energy encircled them at wrists and ankles, hauling them into the air. There was a scream of ethereal rage as these human beings twisted beyond comprehension and sanity, to the horror of the Astartes near the rhinos, veterans of the Crusade and even the opening blows of the Heresy, were unfamiliar with.

They had seen mutations, but this was different and smelled of sorcery; the men burst into a spray of blood and from the spray of blood, suspended in the air, came a portal. And from that portal came, howling, sword-bearing horrors that rushed at them with a terrible ferocity and speed. The flamer carried by one of their number unleashed in a long burst, trying to catch them as the bolters were fired rapidly. A piece of the Prodigal Son's mind gibbered, but the other part bellowed "AND YOU WILL KNOW NO FEAR."

But if the bolter fire shredded the first ranks, multiple hits ensuring that they stayed down, there were enough left to engage the rest of Prodigal Son's small detachment. The Luna Wolves were fluid and instinctive in their shift of weaponry, from the ranged combat role into preparation to defend in close combat, and ferocious in meeting the charge. It was chainswords against those demonic blades, even while the whispers rang in their ears, calling them to their rage...

[User]
No Quarter Given, None Received

With all sounds of screaming extinguished unto the final breath, Brenard was satisfied his sector was clear. The sounds of gunfire elsewhere in the chateau seemed to have also died down, which likely meant his brothers had too finished their work. "Sector clear." Brenard acknowledged in a grim voice by vox as he turned to regroup at the entryway with the others. He was not the least bit surprised when Kurak ordered the purging extended to the rest of the complex. It only made sense.

Cold unfeeling red light shone from his helm as Brenard stood close behind Kurak's World Eaters. The door broke open, shattering like the lives they took by bolter and blade. The vision that met them on the otherside was somewhat unexpected, but not at all unfamiliar. All of the astartes had the same reflex, to dodge the inevitably oncoming storm of fire. Yet the narrow hall was unforgiving, pitting the warriors between the wall and merciless arms. It was the armor and bodies of his traitor-son brethren that provided Brenard with the cover he needed to pull a grenade. He threw it forward as he dropped down with his pistol. The fire was so bright and the explosions intense at this close distance. Only his sensory modulators kept him from going blind or deaf, even briefly.

Brenard couldn't stop himself from uttering a reflex prayer, for which he immediately kicked himself, btu there was no time to think of it. The grenade he had chucked in the general direction shredded through a dozen lives and injured at least as many, throwing the guard into disarray behind a cloud of smoke and failing ceiling tiles. To their credit, guns still blazed into the hall. The autocannon choked to a halt as its handler fell, spattering bullets into the wall in an off direction. Brenard got up. He brothers got up. The Emperor's wrath had yet to be be brought.

[Assistant]
The lone knight heard the sharp repeat of bolter fire, he knew instantly a fight had begun outside the garage. Having locked the front doors and garage door he moved to the door at the rear of the repair bay. Kicking it sending it flying clear of the doorway. He broke into a sprint, he did not pause when he saw the strange red creatures. He saw them attacking his brothers and knew that they were a foe, so they would die. Letting off rounds from his bolt pistol as charged into the massive bringing chain sword biting into from the side as another fell under the fire from his pistol.

"We are the Emperor's angels of death! And you will die scum!" He cried, while he might have been younger warriors present, he was one of the most devout and unflinching. He had survived trials on Caliban, the trials to become a space marine, fought with one of the most tactically renown Primarchs. Has was the only son of the Lion currently taking to the field against the enemies of the Emperor. His fury had to be enough to stand for his entire legion and no traitor or their pawns would overcome his wrath. His brothers, his leaders, and his mission were failed, to him only thing left was redemption in death and joining his brothers their.