[System]
Gender: Male

Age: 26

Place of Birth: Downtown Atlanta

Sexuality: Bisexual

Relationship Status: Single

Occupation: EMT

Power: Super Speed

Cost of powers use: To move at higher speeds, Joseph has to inflict a low voltage shock on his body, as this energises his body, and allows him to run faster, however, he has very little experience with his powers, and is susceptible to running into objects/tripping at high speeds. The voltage he uses also dictates how fast he can run (I.E. 15 to 20 volts will allow him to run at around 40 mph, where as 25 to 30 allows him to run at around 50 mph) and this is obviously extremely dangerous, as a voltage too high would kill him.

Appearance:

Skills:
-Medical training (Because of his profession)
-Dirt Biking experience (Picked up from his Dad)
-Charmer (Part of is personality)
-Novice fighter (Acquired through school yard fights)
-Experienced sky diver (Learned from a hobby)
-Mechanic apprenticeship (Because of his Dad's former profession)
-Practised with handguns (Learned from a hobby)

Personality: He's a fun loving person and a thrill seeker. He's a sucker for anything high octane, but, he is also deeply invested in protecting others. This trait is what led him to become an EMT, as he wanted people who had been hurt to feel protected by him. He is also very cautious, as he realises that there are people that could want to capture him, or worse, because of his power. However, he is open to using his power to help others, wishing to fulfil everyone's childhood dream of being a superhero. He is also normally a joking person, often trying to lighten the mood or make a good first impression. This normally fails however, due to his habit of making jokes that offend people, such as the time he referenced Robocop to an amputee. He's also extremely violent when enraged, a trait that has become even more dangerous due to his power, as he can hit someone at the speed of a car.

History: Joseph was born in Downtown Atlanta to loving parents, his father a mechanic and his mother worked in the diner next to their apartment. Joseph and his Dad both shared a love of motorcycles, in fact, his Dad loved it so much, that he even bought his own.

2 years later, on the way home from work, his Dad was hit by an oncoming bus. He was killed instantly. Without the income from his Dad's job, Joseph and his mother were forced to move in with his Grandparents. It was because of this crash that Joseph wanted to save lives, as he wanted to save people from the type of crash that had killed his Dad. So, at age 18 he worked on his Medical Degree, so that he could become a surgeon.

Not long after finishing his degree, he began visiting his Uncle in Harlan more, he soon worked out ways to traverse the hills by himself with the hills, often taking long camping trips down in the valleys. However, he is much more comfortable in an urban environment, as their are more noticeable obstacles.

At the Charity Gala in Buckhead, Joseph was invited by one of his wealthier patients, and was effected by the sudden application of powers, he discovered his ability by running towards the explosion, looking for survivors, suddenly hitting 45 MPH in seconds. He woke up a day later in hospital with a broken arm, something that repaired itself in a week

[User]
Nate was pleased when JJ took the jar from him. Both her reaction to its contents and the mere fact that she had tried some made him somewhat proud of her. Maybe she wasn't the stick in the mud that she seemed at times. Seeing her mouth the words I hate you only promoted a smile on his face and slight laugh, which he immediately regretted when his ribs ached again. If he gave a damn what Jennifer, or anyone for that matter, thought about him, he may have been somewhat offended. He had saved her life a couple of times already after all.

He watched Vincent prepare some MRE's but immediately decided not to join him. Field rations were definitely not something he had fond memories of. Instead he picked up the second jar Eli had pulled out and lowered himself back down into his chair. Once Eli left and Vincent returned, Nate was already halfway through the jar. It took him a moment to realise that someone was talking to him but once Vin's question actually registered in his brain, he responded "As long as we need to. Opie over mentioned some place we can head to in a couple of days. Hopefully it's better than the Courtney Love of safehouses we have here." He looked around at the room, clearly disgusted by it, until he noticed Eric staring at him. Nate narrowed his eyes at the kid, curious about why he was so curious. "Hey." he said "I know I'm pretty but you're making me uncomfortable."

[Assistant]
Eric wasn't sure how to react when Nate started talking to him. In fact he almost didn't hear him. Eric was trying to make sense of all the noise that was being produced from this man's head. Eric stood still for almost a solid minute before actually answering Nate. Though Nate wasn't wrong, he was pretty but that was not why Eric was starring at him. "Are you on Medication? Like... Very strong medication? Are you getting enough sleep?" Eric sat down next to Nate and looked him in the eyes. Eric almost forgetting he still had a shotgun in one hand. "I want you to know something.... Something important." Eric took a deep breath before speaking. "Please figure out what is going on in your head before it kills us both.... That would be awesome. Thanks." Then Eric gets up and heads for the kitchen, grabbing himself a Mac and Cheese MRE. Great times.

Eating the MRE Eric noticed a few things. First, Mac and Cheese is Awesome. Next, He was going to need more Mac and Cheese. Third... He was in a cabin in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of strangers who many of which were getting some pretty intense vibes coming from their heads. Lots of Fear, Answer, hate, possibly something porn related? Point is... Things being the way they are, it could go anyway from this point on. And no matter what Eric though of the situation, he was in the middle of it. The only thing to do now was enjoy the Mac and Cheese while it lasted.

[User]
Three days had passed since everyone arrived in Harlan County. Though Eli would let them have their own fiction. He knew that Hunter or Nate and thst other one were hurt worse than they let on.

Eli couldn't blame Nate for it. Though he couldn't tell if it was in spite of him or fear of him that Nate act like he did. It didn't matter much either way.

That other one, the tatted boy toy didn't seem like a bad guy. He was just worthless. He held no value that Eli could see but he kept his mouth shut about it.

Christabell still hardly spoke but it did seem to Eli she as getting along well with young Eric Miller... That boy was strange and he had heart. Heart was something Eli always respected.

Once they could make the hike, Eli took them to Nobles holler. For lack of a better a term, it was where the black folk lived and nobody wasn't from there, went there. There were a small but clanish group. While no one from the mountains liked outsiders. The people of Nobles didn't want anyone around. It was understandable for most people. Racism was a bigger problem in the mountains than most places and it wasn't going change anytime soon.

It everything about their small community was old and rustic. It from the outside it shouted and screamed impoverished. However to anyone who looked close enough it as easy to see that wasn't the case at all. If the truth was known, Nobles had every bit as much money as County. How that to be was nothing myth and folk lore. They hid that fact very well, only a handful of people knew the truth.

Eli was owed favors from a good number of people in this community, this was going to be the safest place for the time being. Each and every member of the community was armed and the best part of all was there was only one way out.

Everything about this community seemed isolate from the rest of the mountains. They're other places like this, more than anyone would think of.

This community had everything from livestock farms to gas stations,country stores and even an old mine shaft. That's where they would be staying. It's exterior looked like a rundown shack. One that was long for forgotten and for time to take its toll.

The inside however, was a different story. It was decently appointed by almost any standards. There were more creature comforts than anywhere Eli could have kept them safe at. It was still a hole the ground yet it did have a homey feeling to it.

What was great was about it was the room. Though it was a little narrow, it seemed to go long as the day. Eli had every intent to explore every inch of the mine.

[Assistant]
"Well isn't this just a fine upgrade from our previous cabin in the middle of fucking nowhere."

Vincent leaned against an old lamp post that looked as though it had been stuck in the ground for a hundred years, as he stared at the long abandoned miner's barrack ahead that would be considered their new "home" for awhile. Past the old shack was a mining shaft that probably went to the other side of the world, but Vincent had no intentions of finding out just where in the hell it lead. Although something told him that their new guide would probably think otherwise since he was probably born in a mining shaft such as that.

"Really Eli, you shouldn't have."

He grumbled, shaking his head at the shit hole that the group had been tossed into and immediately thinking back to his place in Atlanta. Luxurious in it's design and more room than any one person needed, Vincent's penthouse was his sanctuary that overlooked a city which never slept. It had been a place he could escape to if he needed to be alone, or to throw the most outrageous parties without a single care in the world. Sure, that life wore him down at times, but it was nothing as unbearable as living out on the set of Deliverance with gunslinging rednecks all around him who would rather eat him in his sleep.

Nate didn't seem to care a whole lot about where they were, as long as they were somewhere he could relax and heal in his own time, which Vin couldn't blame him. The guy took as much shit as he dished out, so he could use a reprieve if there was such a thing. The Eric Miller kid was decent, seemed to pretty much say whatever was on his mind at the time, and yet Vin still couldn't quite understand what his role was in everything. The little girl, Christi, on the other hand was timid, but from what he'd heard, she had every right to be reluctant to interact with strangers. No one should go through that kind of shit, no matter what their upbringing. No doubt she saw the three from the city as something entirely different, maybe almost alien from a culture she was accustomed to.

Vin turned to Jennifer and grinned. "I don't suppose you want to step in first and check out the new digs. Maybe scare all the rats and shit out before the rest of us come in."

She'd been, for most of the hike up to Noble's, at his side and they kept each other company trying their best to keep their minds off of the train wreck of their current lives. It was no secret that he liked her, and sometimes he believed he might even love her considering how protective he'd become of her, but he pushed those thoughts aside knowing that growing so emotionally attached to someone at this point was probably not the best course of action. However, as much as he wanted to fall back to treating Jennifer like he'd treated most women in his life as though they were simple playthings and sexual diversions, Vin couldn't. They'd been through too much for him to ever think of her like that.

"Eh...I was kidding, by the way, babe." He said, rubbing her shoulder as he turned to the others in the group.

"So, who's going in first, because I don't know about the rest of you but I'm tired as all hell..."

[User]
Joseph looked down at the scrap of paper in his hand, then up at the house in front of him. He nodded to himself once then knocked on the door. He didn't really want to be here. He wanted to be sat down eating his Aunt's pancakes, not stuck checking out some kids hunting wound. The sound of clattering came from within the house, Joseph stood back expectantly, the door opened to a large man, most of his forearms and hands covered in blood. "Um. Hi. I'm Richard's nephew. You wanted me to check out your brother's wound?" The man nodded frantically.
"Yeah, he's on the sofa. Please hurry."

Joseph smiled briefly and stepped into the living room. It was not a pretty sight. The boy couldn't be older than 12, his bandages were blanketing the floor, and his eyes were glazed.
"Fuck me sideways..." He went over to the boy and tapped his face. "Hey buddy, anyone in there? Hello?" He got a weak nod in response. He looked over at what he could only assume was the boy's mother.
"The wound's infected. I need something to clean the wound, fresh bandages, and some antibiotics for his bandages.

"We have some bandages, but I don't have the money to buy anything else". Joseph nodded solemnly.
"But some other people came through town not too long ago, they might have some of the stuff you need." Joseph's eyes lit up. "Which way did they go?" The woman pointed out past the houses. "They went out towards the old mineshaft". "OK. I'll be back as soon as I can."

Joseph exited the house and looked down at the small device on his wrist, as he was walking. He upped the voltage to 30 and looked around him. Clear streets. He smiled and pressed the shock button. He felt the electricity surge through his body, the volts making his finger tips tingle, and the world slow down. In a burst of speed, he shot through the streets of Nobles, heading directly for the mineshaft.


[System]
"This is not what I would call 'quality vacation time'."

[ ❇ ] S Y N O P S I S

---
Gender
Female

Age
Thirty-Five

*Born December 4th, 1983

Birthplace
Rushford, Ohio

Former Life
FBI Special Agent

[ ❇ ] C H A R A C T E R I Z A T I O N

---

Appearance Description
The image of Agent Schwarzenberg is that of a leaner, taller girl from Midwestern Ohio. Her hair is bright blonde, which is more often than not held in some version of a ponytail. Her lean, athletic build is a byproduct of operating as a field agent on the road and at home. Her general appearance is accompanied by a badge and uniform, but in this case only one of those things is true. After deciding to take some time off and return to her childhood home the only resources she has off-hand are her sidearm, badge, and cellphone. Her attire as it stands is simple given the objective was not to play law enforcement but take some time off from being law enforcement. She has a light jacket, long-sleeve shirt, jeans, and pair of shoes. On first glance, nobody would even be able to tell she's FBI.

Personality
Jennifer can be defined by these five core personality traits: sarcastic, judgmental, cautious, distrustful, and honorable.

Biography
Jennifer Schwarzenberg grew up in Rushford, Ohio as the only child of Henry and Janet Schwarzenberg. Life was simple, albeit rough due to the fact that by the time she was seven-years-old her parents' marriage was beginning to fall apart.

Several years later, on the eve of Jennifer's first day in middle school, they divorced. It was a story that wasn't too uncommon with other Midwestern, suburban families of the time. Jennifer personally felt that it just showed that her family had been lying to her throughout her childhood and her image of her parents only seemed to worsen when neither could provide a healthy household following the divorce. In fact, things just seemed to get worse as she pushed through school. Her mother disappeared, dropping everything she had in Rushford to start somewhere else new—without her, and her father's alcoholism had left him with a DUI and lacking in any capacity to parent.

Fortunately, Jennifer found some kind of stability under her father's brother's household on the other side of the city and she pushed through High School with little to no issues to account for. Years later, Jennifer has been accredited for many accomplishments. She never thought she'd be a FBI Agent—or surviving the zombie apocalypse.

[ ❇ ] M I S C E L L A N E O U S

---

Gear
Glock 17 — A favorite of law enforcement around the world. Chambered in 9mm; 1 magazine remaining (17 shots per magazine).
Tire Iron — For tires, or heads. From Jenn's car.

Rugged Backpack — Carries miscellaneous supplies, good for storage.
Wallet & Badge — Money amounting to 16.35, two credit cards, and a FBI badge.
Cellphone — An outdated smartphone.
Road Map — Useful in case your GPS doesn't work.
Sketchbook — For drawing or taking notes.

Skills
Capable Leader — Being an FBI Agent in the zombie apocalypse has its perks. People tend to listen and react to Jenn in times of crisis. She makes them feel safe.
Firearms Expertise — Jenn has the eyes of a hawk and the hands of a sniper, or at least she does with handguns.
Intermediate Self Defense — Basic training at Quantico afforded a fundamental grasp of judo, jiujutsu, and krav maga. Jenn isn't going to go toe-to-toe with a MMA fighter, though.
Physical Conditioning — Years of working for the FBI and hunting criminals has afforded Jennifer an athletic physique. She can climb, run, and pace herself better than most.
Sketchaholic — Sometimes you need a little R&R. Drawing is fun.

Other
TBD

[User]
---

Location: Rushford, Ohio -- Jenkins' Diner

Date: May 15th, 2019

---

"I'd guess perhaps five... maybe six or seven more minutes at the most until it ends, which means that we should probably hurry up if we're going to hit the road." Karen responded, grabbing her rugged pack from the diner booth it sat in. Slinging the bag over her shoulder, she continued. "As you might've already noticed, though, we can't exactly leave through the front doors. That leaves us with the back door—if there is one—or the emergency exit. Perhaps one of us should check them out to see if the way out is clear while the rest gather what we can."

Once again, Karen bit her lip. Her own words worried the park ranger, who realized that if the emergency exit was their only way out, then they were likely already dead. Unless they were all capable runners or by some chance managed to be considerably lucky right now, there was a considerable chance that they could be trapped once the alarm went off.

I hope you're up there looking out for us, God. Karen prayed, despite being hardly the believer that her grandparents were.

Taking a moment to refocus her thoughts on reality, Karen walked over towards where Kale and Isla were and joined in on their conversation. "If we're leaving now, then we don't have time to worry over cooking things for later. We'll die of dehydration faster than starving to death, so I'd say to grab any juice or water you can find. I'd also snag any cans you can find as they're likely non-perishable, but they probably would have only the big food service cans, no?" Karen asked, looking to Kale for a reply.

---

@Hero@Lord Orgasmo

[Assistant]
---

Location: Rushford, Ohio -- O'Neal Family Tavern

Date: May 15th, 2019

---

"Omelettes are fine." Jenn commented as she crossed her arms while she moved into the kitchen with Damien and Daniel, looking the room over in the process. "We won't get many opportunities when the power plants stop working."

Daniel had collected some amount of granola bars and jerky, which was good. They would need the energy when they made their way out of Rushford. As Damien got to work cooking, Jenn leaned back against the wall behind her to think more about their approach once they had food in their bellies. There were a few routes that would take them toward the campsite that were a little safer than taking the main roads out of Rushford, but they would undoubtedly be longer and she knew that getting there quickly would increase their chances of surviving the virus. However, she did not want to endanger anyone at the same time. It wasn't an easy decision.

She sighed, shaking off the thought.

"I'm going to check the drawers and utility closet. Be on your guard. Don't make too much noise. Hopefully, Daniel is right and we find something useful on the way out of Rushford."

[User]
---

Location: Rushford, Ohio -- O'Neal Family Tavern

Date: May 15th, 2019

---

With a pep to his step and a whistled tune on his lips, Damien plopped omelette after omelette onto a giant plate he found lying around. The presentation of their meal certainly left a lot to be desired, but it was food that they'd only have one shot to eat, so he didn't hold back at all when it came to quantity.

He scraped the last omelette into the pile and looked at his creations with pride. "I still got it," he said, though the expression on his face showed a hint of dubiousness. Gathering a messy assortment of napkins and silverware, he presented the rest of the room with the food by shoving it to the side. Now the only thing left to do before heading out was to eat.

Damien ate an omelette with his bare hands, holding it like a taco. He was glad Jennifer was propping herself up as the leader of their little group, since it meant he wouldn't have to be in charge of anything. His plan so far was just to run for it, and that probably wouldn't work out with a bunch of adults with joint pain travelling along with him. Even with this in mind, he still had some doubts.

"So..." he said, in between messy bites, "Do we risk it or take our time?" They were yet to reach a conclusion, and he was not so secretly getting impatient. The dumb teenage part of him wanted to barrel straight into danger to get it over with, but the other part of him, the part that had come to grips with his own mortality, knew it was suicide.

[Assistant]
---

Location: Rushford, Ohio -- Jenkins' Diner

Date: May 15th, 2019

---

Isla nodded once more, unpacking a few perishables she had grabbed and deciding to focus on canned goods instead. She peered at a few of them, muttering something to herself once in a while. Tomato sauce, onions...there had to be better stuff than this. Potatoes were always good, right? She could already hear her dad berating her lack of knowledge on food. Maybe she should have paid better attention on the food pyramid.

She didn't think Karen had the wrong idea, but after a while, her backpack seemed to be getting a little too heavy. The last thing she wanted was for a strap to break or for the bottom to just fall out from all the weight. Maybe she could compromise? She was probably over thinking it at this point, mentally berating herself as she went back to stuffing what she could inside.

As she stood up, she picked up her bag and was relieved to find it hadn't ripped or anything. "Kinda heavy, but...should be okay?" If she dropped it, she was pretty sure it would break and everything would spill, but oh well. "Think I can squeeze some water bottles...but uh, you know, I can handle it." Most likely, anyway.

[User]
---

Location: Rushford, Ohio -- Jenkins' Diner

Date: May 15th, 2019

---

Cass's expression contorted into an anxious grimace at the ranger's answer. They had next to no time left before they had to get outta dodge and they still weren't ready to go- there was still talk of what all they should be grabbing and what could be safely ignored. Thinking about the clock ticking down while she watched them go back and forth made Montoya's palms itch. Maybe she'd noticed it, or maybe Cass had just gotten lucky, but Karen decided to not-so-subtly ask Cassidy to check for ways out of the diner that didn't involve plunging through the front door's barricade and into the swarm of shambling dead just outside.

"Yeah, I'll go check it out." She agreed with a curt nod, bouncing on passed the others as she moved deeper into the restaurant.

The place wasn't exactly in tip-top condition, probably hadn't been even before the apocalypse. The wallpaper was torn in places in the back and nobody had bothered to replace it, the wood flooring was scratched and stained with grease, and shelves of cardboard boxes filled with stale food lined the hallways. The kitchen wasn't big, only barely leaving enough room for two people to pass by one another in the pathways between the stoves and counters.

Just in the back corner, next to the broom closet, was the appropriately marked emergency exit. She felt her heart sank when she got close enough to read the small, red sign beside it:

"Shit." She snarled under her breath. "So much for sneaking away."

After swallowing down a moment's panic and collecting herself, she began to look around the room for anything else of note. There didn't appear to be any other doors aside from this one and the one in the front, but there were a few windows. All of 'em were small, ancient looking things- at least the ones that opened- and there was no way they'd be fitting the big guy through any of them. But there was one that gave her a partial view of the back of the diner. Not enough to scope the whole area out, but maybe it'd be enough.

She climbed atop a metal countertop to get at it. The thing was so old that no amount of tugging with her hands was going to get it to open normally, so she slid her crowbar out from her backpack and held it tight in her fists. It took a bit of fiddling, but she managed to get the tip of it underneath the window and knocked it loose, doing her utmost not to make a racket as she did.

'Here's hopin' one of those things isn't just waitin' right outside. Ha. Wouldn't that be a stupid way to go out?'

Once Cassidy had it open, she popped her head out to get a good look at their only escape route.

[Assistant]
Location: Rushford, Ohio -- O'Neal Family Tavern

Date: May 15th, 2019

---

By the time Damien mentioned their two options getting to the camp Jenn had finished grabbing a few clean rags and strong proof alcohol for the road.

She had thought about the question a lot—though she wasn't sure why she hadn't mentioned it when they began looting and discussing things in the tavern in the first place. Maybe it was for everyone to get their bearings, case the building, and determine answers to other questions. The smartest choice was obviously to take their time, see what they could pilfer from buildings on the way to the camp instead of doubling the pace and just making for the bridge that led across the river and to Route 65. The sooner they arrived, the more supplies were going to be left, and the more chances people were going to meet up with their families.

But there was the risk of stumbling into the infected.

"Well, the best idea would be moving carefully out of the town, but I know we want to move fast."

Jenn sighed as she looked to Daniel and then to Damien. Of all of them, Percy definitely had his own needs and while she couldn't relate, she understood the agency of the situation. He wanted to find his kid. She wasn't sure about the other two, but they probably had friends and family they might've been looking for as well, but she hadn't exactly gotten their life stories yet.

"Right. Well, we can't go off sprinting down Main Street either way."

The blonde-haired woman moved toward a clear countertop, grabbing some of the food Damien had made before she continued on her point. She plopped her backpack on the counter, removing an old road map from her belongings—probably the most useful item she had held onto during the current crisis. As she moved the map to their general area she began to point toward Rushford, or particularly the part of Rushford they were in.

"We're here." She said, after swallowing a mouthful of food. "We want to head south, across the river. Once we cross a bridge connecting to Route 65, it's a pretty fair walk. We can get there in a few hours. Give or take. The fastest and safest route would be going through these backroads. If we're lucky the bridge isn't uncrossable. If it is, well, then we'll need to go to the next one. Any questions?"


[System]
Age: 17
Ethnicity: A medium brownish
Vices: Stealing and Gambling

Personality: Salim is quiet and shy, preferring complete silence. He had begun to equate loud noises with the shouts of accusation of thievery, and sounds tend to throw off his probability calculations. He genuinely tries to be polite and courteous with everyone, so that he could justify looting their pockets as a sort of diplomacy tax.

History: Salim's father was one of the new converts to the Vicarian faith in the western borders of the old empire, before its decline. To show his devotion to the new faith, he sent his youngest child to act as both diplomat and student in the church. At the tender age of 15, he arrived at the city gates, and quickly became enamored with the life of the priests. Specifically, the secret one they don't want people to know about. His natural aptitude for quick mathematics was put to darker uses in the gambling dens under the nose of the Vicarian inquisitors, and his quick fingers always gave him a convenient loan when he ran short. Without the guiding hand of his father (not that he had much time for his sixth child), Salim had begun to turn away from the values taught by his new religion.

Equipment: An abacus, a thick book of theology, and a stack of ill-gotten banknotes.

Appearance: Salim is short and rail thin, with a pair of tiny spectacles always perched on his nose. He has a bit of a moustache stretching across his upper lip. He lets his hair grow out long, which he ties back into a tail.

[User]
"Don't ya wanna know where I hid yer brother's body?"

D'ren's inquiry held just a hint of a taunt in his half-Irish accent. He had not brought up the brother to Jacobs before. He wanted to hold onto it, use it at the last possible moment to humiliate him in front of an audience. That was D'ren specialty after all: spectacle.

The corrupt reverend's brother was five years his junior, and the two had never really gotten along as kids. But D'ren was banking on blood being thicker than the rope that reddened the pale scoundrel's neck.

It was six weeks previous, just a few hours before his 8th match in the underground fight club. Finn Jacobs was an aide to D'ren's opponent, Delrick Smashhouse. Finn had been caught cheating, slipping drugs into Ol' Smashies drinks to make him move faster, punch stronger. D'ren and his friend Raylon had discovered this violation. Raylon caught the business end of a knife. D'ren made Finn pay for that in the alley that evening.

Then he made Smashie pay in the ring later that night.

[Assistant]
Salim flinched at the mention of his failing. The roar of the bloodthirsty crowd deafened him, and he shuffled nervously in his place. The rope dug itself into his neck, somehow wrought painfully tight even for him. He was out one night, with a few elder monks in the tavern. They had run short on coin, and were already very deep in debt to the Vicaria City Mafia, so Salim, in his sleep addled brain, deduced that the church must have plenty of cash reserves in it's lower vaults. This, combined with the fact that any priest had access to the lower vaults, led Salim to the inevitable conclusion that the church was being weighed down by all those heavy metals and the best show of piety would be to relief the coffers of such burdens.

"Wait, my sir," he whispered to the executioner, just before his outstretched hand was about to reach the lever, sending all of them to an airless death. The next part of the plan is dependent upon the executioner being more corrupt than the preacher appeared to be. "Do you like being wealthy?" There was no response, but the hand did slowly retract from the lever. This was a good start. Salim looked over at the priest, who was being distracted by the man on the far right. Hearing no response from either the executioner or the preacher, he continued. "I have friends in very high places. Simply by not killing me, thus sparing you work, I will consequently owe you, and I always pay in untraceable cash. Interesting, yes?" Having said his part, Salim waited with bated breath for the executioner's response.

[User]
As the Irishman taunted father Jacobs with his query, Aleksander noticed the thin brown man going to work on the executioner, and thought to himself "what's my angle.. where can I make my move." And what came over him next even he can't comprehend...

"Hey father!" bellowed Aleksander.

... As this turned father Jacobs head toward the unhollowed knight, Aleksander projectile vomited all over his mark despite the half dozen feet that separated them. The crowd instantly burst into laughter, jeering and pointing at the sin-riddled holy man.

[Assistant]
Father Jacobs turned to the insolent man who was begging to be taught a lesson in obeying the lord's servants. His mouth was opening to command the executioner to leave the funny-speaking pretty boy for his own personal treatment, his hand upraised to wave off the execution when-

A horrible noise. A sickening smell. Hot putrid bile mixed with putrescent contents blasting into his face, nostrils, mouth, and robes. At first, he felt extreme disgust, his own bile mounting in his throat, then he knew nothing, as he fell off the gallows platform and darkness enveloped his vision. He knew nothing beyond that.

---

The executioner saw the spectacular fountain of vomit catapult the priest off of the raised stage, and then he looked furtively about. The crowd had jumped back to avoid the disgustingly sodden form of the unconscious priest. All the other guards were elsewhere, administering Vicarian justice to those who were not presumably, moments from death. Finally he made up his mind and stepped closer, pulling out his knife. He held it up in front of Salim's face.

"See this? You pay me in coin you have right now, locked up in the dungeon, for this knife." He gave Salim a look as though waiting to hear what money was being held up in the dungeon that the executioner could look forward to. At that moment however, a guard caught sight of the catastrophe at hand, and began pushing through the crowd, clubbing bystanders liberally. The executioner's eyes widened and he dropped the knife at Salim's feet, and made himself scarce.

The crowd was jumbled, and the lone guard was having trouble making headway, however it was evident to the three heroes of our narrative, and their criminal companions, that if they didn't find a way out of the noose now, their temporary stay of execution would remain just that.

Temporary.

[User]
The knife was too far away. Bloody hell. If only the executioner had dropped it a little closer, he could use his martial expertise to toe-flick the blade up to his hands. D'ren quickly decided to leave the knife to Salim or the other guy, the name of which he'd already forgotten.

Many hits to the head will affect one's memory.

D'ren deliberately looked around, as if unfazed by the chaos. It was during chaotic circumstances that D'ren felt the most at ease. Thinking quite clearly, D'ren caught sight of a guard holding a crossbow just a few meters away. He was watching the crowd, as well as the convicts. Now, how to get him to actually shoot at them...

"Oi!" D'ren yelped at the guard. "I fucked yer daughter!"

The guard looked up in terror at the gallows. "She's 13!"

D'ren blinked, but kept up the facade of indigence. "Yeah? Well she felt 30!"

That worked. The guard took aim and jerked the trigger back, perhaps not quite taking aim, so much as firing in a blind rage. The arrow whizzed harmlessly past.

D'ren rolled his eyes as the guard knocked in another dart. "No, I'm sorry. It was another...guard's...daughter...?"

The guard calmed slightly, but not by much. It was enough, however, for him to actually take aim at D'ren. He fired. D'ren dodged. The arrow hit the shoulder of the man in the middle, who D'ren had named in his head Vomit-Man.

"Cheers mate," D'ren said as he took the arrow in his teeth, yanked it out of Vomit-Man.

The head didn't want to come out at first. He had to tug a couple of times. When he got the dart out, he saw the guard locking in another one. D'ren dropped the arrow, turned to the side, caught it, and quickly tried to cut through the rope holding his hands behind his back. He figured he'd have to duck at least another arrow.

Halfway through the binds, the guard fired (roughly) at D'ren once more. But now, he was only about eight feet away. He couldn't miss if he was blind and on fire.

[Assistant] Salim looked down at the knife at his feet. It was definitely within the reach of his feet, but he can't bend over too far without strangling himself. Perhaps if he caught the blade between his feet, he could maneuver it up to his hands. However, when he went to do so, his legs had to give out beneath him, and he began choking as the rope constricted around his throat. Salim fought to keep conscious, the knife getting closer inch by inch to his hand. Then, salvation came when his fingers brushed the hilt. He grabbed onto it like a lifeline, plopping his feet down again and sucking in the air. The sharp edge made quick work of the rope, and soon he was free of all bindings. Then, a dilemma struck him. He looked at the rows upon rows of criminals he was to be executed with, all doomed to hang as he was. Should he rescue them? Opportunity was growing thin, and he only had time for one. He chose the closest and began hacking away at the bindings, soon freeing him as well. Some points with the Vicar Gods couldn't hurt. "You are greatly indebted to me," Salim said, as he freed Aleksandr from his bonds.

[User]
thunk!

The crossbow bolt sinks into Aleksander's shoulder, then promptly gets ripped out by the scrappy hooligan.

"aaaagghhhh"
.
"Fuck the gods, that hurt"

Just then the thin brown man, Salim, cut him loose.

"You are greatly indebted to me,"
"Aye, that I am. Follow behind me, and maybe we both make it out of here."

Aleksander took off his burlap sackcloth, his makeshift cloths, exposing his muscular, if not also husky build. This action was not without purpose, for the lone guard was almost upon them, and had in his hand a mid-length blade, some sort of falchion or messer.

Aleksander charged the guard, and just as he anticipated, the guard came down with an overhand swing only to get entangled with the burlap cloth in his target's hands. Aleksander countered with a vicious headbutt, staggering the guard, Aleksander however, retained the blade.

[Assistant]
This particular guard had been having a bad day.

Julius Mannus, of the Goldenhand Order, had not intended for his day to go quite so badly. First, that morning he had received a letter informing him of his mother's passing. Second, he had stubbed his toe on his kitchen table. Third, he'd been given guard duty first thing in the morning. Fourth, he had forgotten his extra quarrel for his crossbow. So, when fifth, some fucking heathen started talking shit about his daughter, he just about lost it. He fired the quarrels on hand, one missing and the other hitting some other criminal in the shoulder. Pawing his outfit for literally anything else to shoot, he mistakenly placed his glasses in the crossbow and fired in his rage. His specs flew with surprising aerodynamics to thump squarely in the criminal's chest, shattering utterly.

The criminals had freed themselves, and so Julius took a mighty swing at the nearest one, a man a whole head taller than him. This much like the rest of Julius' day failed miserably. He somehow ended up on the ground, seeing stars with a terrible headache and no sword. That did it. Julius was done. The world had it out for him. He staggered to his feet, and began to totter home. However he slipped on a puddle of vomit and landed in the stuff, bile splashing all over his clothes and armours. He decided to just lie there, and question his life choices.

---

So, you're free. Where to first? Also as a note, @Wadesauce, easy on the godmodding. Just a warning in case you don't know what that is, but just make sure you're controlling only your character and nobody else's. Thanks.

[User]
D'ren let Vomit-Man tussle with Glasses-Guy as he gazed down at the broken spectacles in his hand for a moment. If only he could get these things in a couple shades darker. Two more guards rushed up the back of the gallows, much to D'ren's totally irrational glee. He slowly removed the noose from his neck, pretending like he hadn't forgotten about it.

However, these guards knew of D'ren's exploits as a boxer. They weren't about to charge in there so he could disarm them and disembowel or decapitate them with their own broad swords. Instead, they tiptoed around a bit until the Irishman got bored of waiting, tossed the glasses at them, and then charged them, disarmed them, and disemboweled one before turning to decapitate the other.

"Yeah!" D'ren exclaimed jubilantly, swinging both broad swords over his head. "Who wants some good ol' deathsauce???"

By now, most of the area had cleared out. There were but a handful of guards, and most of them were smart enough to keep their distance, and also be prepared to scamper if D'ren got bored of waiting again.

[Assistant]
Salim ducked low as the fight between his new debtor and the guard quickly resolved itself. He gazed down at the blade in his hand. It was a paltry thing, and his lack of body mass meant that if this fellow, now armed with a far more effective weapon, were to betray him, there was little Salim could do to stop it without the backing of his contacts around the city.

"Which way?" he asked, looking back at the crowd. It would be too easy to duck into the unorganized horde and become instantly anonymous. He turned, and found another alternative. The storm drains that can be accessed by night workers could provide an easy escape, and Salim knew the paths well enough to escape the inquisition. He left it up to his debtor to choose the path.


[System]
Age: 18

Gender: Female

Appearance
Kim has long, straight black hair, which she usually keeps tied back in braids or a ponytail. Her russet eyes are usually hidden behind glasses, which she switches out often because she frequently breaks them. At 5'3", she's shorter than average; she also weighs more than average, although most of her 130lbs is muscle, not fat. Kim is unattractive and she knows it - she's built like a gruff dwarf rather than a willowy elf, and she has thick eyebrows, freckles, and thin lips, none of which contribute to her attractiveness. However, she's long since come to terms with his less-than-average looks, and she doesn't let them bother her.

Personality
Kim is blunt, cold, and stubborn, but not a bad person at heart. She enjoys freedom and self-sufficiency, and has a fiercely independent streak. Although she can work in a group if she must, she hates being forced to rely on others. She readily cooperates with reasonable authority figures, but she won't blindly follow orders, and she doesn't hesitate to break rules if she has what she sees as a good reason. Kim doesn't hesitate to say what she's thinking even if may offend listeners, and her utter lack of tact has earned her the ire of peers and professors alike. Nonetheless, she is able to befriend people who can appreciate, or at least tolerate, her frank nature, and know to give her the space that she needs. She doesn't make friends easily, but she is extremely loyal to the ones she does have. Kim always looks out for herself and the people she cares about first - they're what she values most. At times, Kim can be rather cynical and pessimistic, but she won't give up even if she doesn't expect a good outcome. She's also quite hardworking and efficient, putting effort into everything she does.

History
Kim grew up as an only child in an upper-middle class family. Her father was a successful businessman and her mother was a dissatisfied housewife. When she was younger, she frequently rebelled against her well-intentioned but overbearing mother; in recent years, she's calmed down and matured enough to understand her mother's point of view, and their relationship has improved immensely as a result. Her father is disappointed that his daughter doesn't have more ambition, but he tries to hide his disappointment, and Kim pretends not to notice.

In her childhood, she'd dreamed of becoming an Olympic gymnast, and she almost made it to the junior national team. However, as time went on, it became obvious that she was good, but not quite good enough. No matter how much she practiced, she just didn't have the natural talent of the other girls on her team, and she eventually quit. Her parents were disappointed in her performance, and she retained feelings of inadequacy for many years. Eventually, she forced herself to move on and not let those feelings weigh her down. Later, she took up parkour and freerunning as hobbies that she could apply her gymnastics background to, and she enjoys doing them on a casual basis with friends.

After she failed to achieve her dreams, Kim became more cynical and less ambitious than she had been before. She entered college planning to major in accounting in preparation for a future career as a self-employed accountant. Although she isn't passionate about them, Kim is fairly good at logical subjects like math and science, so accounting seemed like a reasonable career choice. Kim gave up on achieving excellence or success and told herself to be content with a stable income and the opportunity to pursue her hobbies in her spare time. She enjoys crafts and DIY projects because she likes to repair and create things for herself, and she does parkour and freerunning on her college campus.

Specializations

High (30): Agility
Kim may not have been able to make it to the Olympics, but she was still very good at gymnastics. Her continued practice of parkour and freerunning have further improved her physical fitness and given her new skills in this regard. For example, Kim is capable of maintaining her balance while running on a roof's edge, climbing walls, and doing backflips.

Medium (25): Determination
She's very stubborn and determined. No setback can keep her down for long - she'll keep trying if there's even the slightest chance of victory. Once she's chosen a goal, Kim focuses on it like a laser and puts forth all her effort.

Low (22): Intelligence
Kim has a good head for numbers, and does fairly well in school, earning A's and B's. She's not passionate about academics, but she recognizes that they're important, so she works hard in her classes.

Imperfections

High (10): Appearance
Her eyebrows are too thick, her lips are too thin, her height is too short, and her weight is too heavy. This bothered her a great deal in her preteen years, but she's stopped caring a long time ago.

Medium (15): Charisma
Kim isn't unsociable, but she does lack tact. She rarely stops to consider the effect her words will have before she says them, which results in offenses and upsets. She's also a bit too independent and stubborn for her own good. Nonetheless, she is capable of forming lasting friendships.

Low (18): Happiness
She's cynical and pessimistic. Although she isn't always unhappy, Kim does tend to have a negative outlook, which drives other people away and reduces her own emotional wellness.

Other
Because Kim likes to feel self-sufficient, she's learned to do things like troubleshoot computer problems and mend broken appliances for herself. She also took up carpentry during high school, and built herself a table that's only slightly wobbly.

[User]
"Take this and roll it."

The man just walked off, looking at no one, almost as if nothing even happened. James stood there with the dice in his hand, dumbfounded as he stared off in the directions of the man, contemplating chasing him. He thumbed the dice through his fingers, before pocketing it without another thought. Then he approached the cashier, paid for the drink he was holding, and left.

What the hell was that about...

He kept walked, following his exact route home as he did every day, passing the same houses, same structures, same everything. It got boring sometimes, yes, but it was more or less just a distraction to keep his mind off the walk. He pulled out his phone and plugged his earbuds in, setting the music on shuffle and listening to whatever came on. Just some nondescript EDM, like always, but it was another welcome distraction for the walk ahead. People walked about on ten street as they usually did, and cars drove about heading to different destinations. Upon distant inspection, everything seemed so simple, easy to understand. That is until you looked closer, and saw everything for what it truly is. Why did James always think about things like that in times of boredom or menial tasks? He never put that much thought into other things, so why now.

What the hell is so special with the dice then, anyway...

That was right, the dice. He may have had a pretty shoddy memory for someone as average as he, but how could he forget about the creepy guy giving him a die. It wasn't as if it was anything special, just a blue translucent d6. Nothing odd, nothing peculiar. James unlocked the door to his house and stepped in, one of the cats running to him with a toy mice securely in its mouth. Dropping his bag on a nearby chair, he cracked the can from his pocket and took a swig from it, the beverage instantly refreshing him. Endurance wasn't exactly his strong suit, so he got pretty tired kinda easily.

Pulling out his earphones and dropping his phone onto the desk in the corner, he pulled the dice from his pocket. More of the same nondescript EDM was playing, and it was actually starting to get on his nerves. It didn't normally, and he even considered going over to switch it off. But, as he walked to it a stretched out his hand to turn it off, the dice rolled out of his fist and onto the table, bouncing a couple of times before rolling some more and coming to a stop. It wasn't normal though, because for some reason he became fixated on the number the dice landed on, as well as the sudden change it had had from blue to red...

[Assistant]
Niel rolled the die through his fingers admiring the colors, what a pretty toy. He'd gotten many things in his hat and forgotten even more, but he was confident he had never gotten something quite like this. He wondered who had given it to him, maybe a business man, or an owner of a pawn shop, even a teacher. Perhaps another person like him? Nah, probably some person with a trinket they figured they didn't need. It wouldn't have surprised if it wasn't so nice. Niel had just arrived in town and had finished his first performance, it'd gone reasonably well.

Niel now had enough money to go on for a few weeks if he did nothing from his last few acts, he hadn't pocketed anything yet, he usually waited at least a day, sometimes more depending on how long he planned on staying. Sometimes it amazed him how charitable people were. Then there were the times he was running on less than a meal a day, but now he could easily afford that. Life was fickle like that. Perhaps whoever had given this to him wanted Niel to test his luck. Grinning broadly as he sat in the shade of an alleyway Niel flicked the die into the air and watched it come tumbling, tumbling down. 6's were good right? Or maybe it was 1's. Guess it all depended on the game you were playing.

[User]
The library was quiet this early in the morning, when most students were attending class or sleeping in. Kimberly flipped to the next page of her textbook, diligently taking notes on her assigned reading. It was dry, boring work, but she refused to let herself slack off in her first year of college.

Someone tapped her lightly on the shoulder, causing her to turn around. A young woman with lovely brown curls and clear blue eyes smiled at her. It was Ramona, one of the girls from Kim's old gymnastics team. Kim remembered watching her on television just a few weeks ago as she competed in the world championship. What could she possibly want with someone who'd quit years ago?

"Hey," Ramona smiled sweetly. "Kim, it's so nice to see you."

"What do you want?" Kim asked bluntly. Envy made her even less polite than usual.

"Well, I didn't realize that we went to the same college until a few days ago, so I wanted to say hi. Do you remember when we used to do gymnastics together?"

Kim nodded, wondering where Ramona was going with this topic.

"I felt so bad when you quit. I mean, you always worked so hard, harder than any of us. It's not your fault you couldn't make it," Ramona said in her saccharine, sickly sweet voice.

Kim stood up violently from her table, the scrape of the chair echoing through the library. "Are you here to gloat? Is that it? Do you want to rub your gold medals in my face?" she spat.

Ramona backed up as Kim spoke, flinching as though each sentence was a physical blow. Her perfect, smooth skin paled. "No!" she cried. "Kim, that's not what I meant at all!" She looked to the left and right, where other students were watching the spectacle they'd created. In a quieter voice, she approached Kim and said, "I'm sorry. It was unfair, and I really do feel bad about it. Please, take this." Ramona pressed a small, cube-shaped item into Kim's palm, and closed Kim's fingers around it. "Wait until you're somewhere private to use it," she whispered. Then she turned and fled out the doors of the library, leaving Kim standing there, confused and holding a bright blue die.

Her anger replaced by curiosity, Kim packed up her books and returned to her dorm, which she fortunately didn't have to share with a roommate. She sat at her desk, tossing the die idly up and down in one hand. What did Ramona mean by "use it"? Was she supposed to roll it? Kim didn't think it would hurt, so she dropped the die and let it bounce across her desk. The moment it landed, its color shifted from blue to red. She leaned over to read the number on it, and a moment later, the die disappated into thin air, causing Kim to gasp in shock. While Kim was still incredulously looking at the spot where the die had been, the phone in her pocket vibrated, prompting her to open it and read her new message.


[System]
Age: 21

Gender: Male

Personality: Cold, brisk, and sharp are the three words that describes him. He's generally abrupt to most strangers, and even colder to those he dislikes. It will take a while for you to warm up to him, and vice versa. Generally keeps an aloof behavior, and never allows emotion to cloud his eyes. Can be rather teasing, however, when it suits him, and rather lazy as well. Incredibly intelligent, and skilled when he feels that it requires it. When interacting with those younger than him; children, basically, Orion will usually be kind and older-brotherly, treating them with kindness that belies his usually personality of distance and apathy. However, despite all of this, he has a relatively warm heart with friends, and when among those he likes, he cracks the occasional joke, and can even give helpful, wise advice.

Background: Orion went to college to major in Visual and Performance Arts. He possesses a lean, muscular figure, and he's rather good at a variety of dancing and acrobatics - despite his usual appearance of coats and hoodies. He is a quickly advancing young man in the art of capoeira; mostly because of his flexibility and the way swaying and flipping/break-dancing comes easy to him. In general, he had a nice life ahead of him...if only he didn't hit that bottom. Loan sharks, basically. Damn mom apparently sent them his way, since he didn't be a lawyer like she wanted. Whatever. He ended up broke, and this...this would help, the man said. So...why not? He should have been more vigilant.

Chosen Pill Color: Black.

Other: My pool of powers are 'Telekinesis', 'Shadow Manipulation', and 'Air Manipulation'.

[User]
With quite a bit to take in all at once, Penelope sort of glanced about the room, trying take it all in at once. Ferg's reply, Emily's entrance and remark, Felyse's more interesting entrance, Nick's sleezebag side showing, Ferg's question about Rohrbach, Vee's coffee and pie, Dominic's entrance, and Heather's rather surprisingly nice greeting.

"I'm not sure where the professor is, Ferg, or what sort of plot he's scheming now." She replied, sipping the coffee placed before her between breaths. "Oh, and hey everyone. Heather, you're looking much better today. Now that you're inside, wanna show us those pretty eyes and take off your sunglasses? It's kinda rude, yanno." She spoke, turning to face the blonde. She, despite her tone, had a slight smile on her face.

Chuckling to herself, she sat back and picked up her fork, digging into the pie. She pulled the delicious hunk of sugar to her mouth and chomped down, savoring the sweet taste. As always, Vee was going to make her fat.

"Vee, you're ganna ma'e me fath." Penelope told her friend, though she'd never admit it, with a mouth full of food. That was why she couldn't stay around Vee too long, she'd gain ten pounds within the first week of living with someone like her. She preferred living at the lab with the others, keeping her stomach full with ramen and other typical college type foods.

"Stho..." Penelope began, swallowing the food in her mouth. "When exactly is the professor suppose to get here? Does anyone know?"

[Assistant]
Orion had been completely silent the entire time, content to just listen and nurse his own cup of tea. The warmth from the mug almost brought a smile out of the college student, but with surprisingly a large amount of self-control, he barely managed to not smile for 'no reason', opting instead to bring his cup up and take a nice, long, and quiet sip of the hot, amber liquid. As the conversation began to be sent into the direction of the missing professor, Orion finally glanced up, his sapphire blue eyes rather lazy and half-lidded.

"No idea. I wasn't at the lab last night, so...maybe he got a date?" It was a random guess, but the professor was a lonely little man, so who knew? Maybe he did get a date, and had spent the night at his date's house. It wouldn't surprise him, honestly. Some girls liked the nervous, old, and geeky type. Or not... "Maybe not. Anyone have his phone-number?" Orion finally flicked a wrist, and all of the marbles formed a sort of marching line, falling into his left hand, where he quickly pocketed the objects.

[User]
"You better get used to it with my portals going all willy-nilly. Aren't you going to be a hero? How could you be so shaken by little ol' me?" Felyse lightly teased, raising an eyebrow in smug mischief as Ferghus grabbed him by the arm. In return, the young man latched onto the Irish man's upper arm and began to pull. One, two, and three – Voila! A soft, almost cartoonish, pop could be heard as Felyse was hauled right outta there. Once the messily tied laces of his boots were released from imprisonment, the portal quickly melted away only to be replaced by the wooden flooring that had been there originally. No scars, no scratches - it was almost like a man-sized hole had never been there in the first place.

"Thanks, bud. If candy is a no-go, then I guess I owe you something else," Felyse threw his arms up into the air and stretched, his fists clenched. He took the red-head man's last statement as a challenge. Chuckling under his breath, he gave the older man a friendly slap on the back, hopping away. "But, I can't give up on converting you to the dandy land of candy just yet~." He softly sang under his breath.

Upon looking at the occupants of the room as well as the newly arrived, he flashed them a warm smile and a wave as gestures of acknowledgement. He hopped right over the table where Heather, Emily, Orion, and Penelope was at, and took a seat right next to Heather. It wouldn't do to sit on the couches since Nick made a point of making it his own territory with his gastrointestinal tract. Besides, slices of black and blueberry pie were already situated quite nicely on the table by the courtesy of Vee. It was calling his name.

Sitting back against the chair, the young man tilted his head toward Penelope, a silver spoon dangling from his mouth. "Nope. Didn't see him at all, neither hair nor nail. He didn't became an old man hermit in that lab again, did he?" Felyse asked nonchalantly, scooping up a large piece of his berry desert with his spoon. He shoved the whole thing into his mouth and chewed in contemplation… only to start piling in more of the sugary substances by the spoonful. Juicy sweetness flowed through his veins. He quickly shook his head at Orion's question. Usually it was the good professor who does the contacting, not the other way around. Besides, the scientist was only a few meters away if they ever needed something, often found holed up in his laboratory of doom.

[Assistant]
Rather unfortunately for Emily, it seemed painfully obvious since their first meeting that someone was already trying to make moves on her. And also rather unfortunately for Emily, that someone was not someone she had the slightest interest in even getting too close to - a fact made poignant by his contributions from both sides of his body. Fortunately, they came from his perch on the couch and not right next to her. Still, she wasn't the type to be rude.

"It took me 4 minutes and 52 seconds to walk here," she replied, having listened to "Children of the Moon" so many times that she knew its exact length. "I think I'm ok," she finished, giving him a small polite smile.

Turning to listen to the conversation about the professor's whereabouts, she replied to Orion's question about his phone number.

"I could find it," she offered. She was used to the intelligence thing but not quite used to the technology manipulation thing yet, but she still knew that it wouldn't be very hard to track down the professor's number in a matter of seconds via her phone.

[User]
"I'm telling yeh, I searched the place top from bottom and the ol' scatterbrain wasn't to be seen." Taking a moment to lightly tap the spot where the whimsical candy lover had just popped out from. And with a smirk directed toward Felyse he spoke,

"Yeah, well maybe yeh should try and improve yer aim a bit? No harm done though, I guess we're all learning still." Glancing around at all the new arrivals made the Irishman feel more at ease. Rohrbach wouldn't keep them all waiting in the cafe all night, would he? Maybe it was a social experiment, to see how we would all get along? Or maybe Ferghus was just over looking it.

The somewhat distracted man shot a quick smile toward Emily"It would be worth a shot, yeah bird?" He responded quick to the idea that she could locate the number, or at the very least attempt to. Ferghus mind filled with memories of attempted phone calls to the professor before, not a single one found their way to his ears.

Adjusting his green jacket and loose-fitting black tie, it was a style he loved, he head toward the pot to pour himself a nice steaming cup of black. Ferghus felt rather ashamed that he hadn't known so much about most of the other participants that hadn't decided to stay in the labs. So he made an effort to walk around chatting about menial things, gauging their personalities.

The Irishman finally moseyed on back to the couch that he had earlier planted himself within and sat next to the rather snide looking Nick. Glancing around the cafe and its bustle Ferghus fixed his attention on the marching orbs that Orion was controlling before placing them back within a pocket. He had an idea for a little game to pass the time. In an obviously joking manner Ferghus spoke intended at Orion,

"Hey porcupine head! Lets see if you can blast those marbles quicker than I can catch 'em. Oh and try and aim for the couch, don't wanna break nothing ya know?" Sure he was playing around, but deep down Ferghus wanted to test his ability, besides he and Orion had been going at it ever since they had first awakened their powers.

[Assistant]
"If you boys are going to play with dangerous things, do it outside." Vee admonished, coming back into the room with more pie and coffee for the late arrivals. Sighing, she pulled the apron from around her neck and tossed it lazily back onto the counter, collapsing onto on of the free couches. She had forgotten to pour herself a cup of coffee, and she didn't feel like getting back up for one, so she settled for complaining.

"I'm tired. I'm sure the professor will be here though, guys, we just have to be patient." She rolled to the side and just before she was laying completely down she shifted to her favorite form: a sleek black jaguar. A deep purr rumbled from her throat as she laid across the couch, her head resting on the arm. She continued purring until her far more sensitive animal nose picked up what her human nose had missed under the smells of coffee and sweets, and her purr turned into a a growl as she buried her nose in the cushion.

[User]
"Him? A date?" Penelope asked Orion, letting out an short chuckled. "That would be the day." She continued, shaking her head. "But seriously, I feel like I barely know the dude. I wish he'd talk to us a bit more..." She added.

Penelope turned to look at Emily, hearing her offer. Shaking her head, she replied, "Nah, I think he'd just be annoyed by it. Better just to wait. I was just curious."

She chuckled as she heard Ferghus call out to Orion and then Vee's addition. She lifted her arm, letting her hand snake through the obstacles between her and Vee and gave the black cat a few light pats. "Good kitty." She teased, laughing.

"Anyone taking Richer this semester?" Penelope asked absentmindedly while petting Vee. "He was being super annoying in class today. Kept yelling about random stuff, as if we weren't listening. I mean, the dude's a lunatic." She complained, pulling her hand back.

[Assistant]
Orion rather liked the thought of the mini-game, but he didn't let the orange-haired Irishman know that. Sitting back in his chair and mentally going over the things that have been said; mostly about the professor, the black-haired young man nodded and shrugged, all at the same time. Because he could do that. "I have a bunch of no-name teachers. It should be smooth sailing from here." His voice was as calm as ever, even as he ignored Vee's warnings and took out around twenty marbles. Rolling them onto the table, Orion tilted his head slightly, narrowing his crystal blue eyes. His voice was rather distracted as he talked. "Just slap him with an elongated boob. That'll show him." He flicked his finger, and smirked as five of the marbles suddenly blasted towards Felyse, only a little slower than a bullet. Orion leaned back and rose one finger, and five more marbles circulated the digit. With only a push of the mind, one more blasted forward, a bit faster than the other five. He trusted the other man's agility and reflexes, however. If he got hit? Well...that was on him.

It's what he would've deserved for interrupting Orion's sleeping time...every....fucking...night at the lab.

Orion's face broke out into a rather large, evil grin that only happened when he was thinking evil thoughts.


[System]
Titles: The Beautiful Undying Raven

Affiliation: The Berserker Warbands, serving under the Chieftain as a soldier.

Gender: Male

Age: 31

Birthplace: Unknown, born to a mother who abandoned him to the cold. Found and raised by the women of the Berserker Warband.

Race: Berserker

Appearance: Eyes sparkling like the crystal waters of a glacial lake, shimmering so brightly blue that some would even say they glowed like the morning sun. Hair flowing beyond his shoulders, so perfect in texture and shine. Perfect golden locks blow in the wind behind him. A body like a greek god, perfectly chisseled without any visible fat on his body. From his neck down he is coated in grizzly scars from countless battles, some scars are from wounds that would have felled greater men. His face is twisted and short, his nose too wide and brow set low. His mouth is adorned with lines of fury at all times. His teeth are filed to points, his gums are fragile and bleed frequently. Feidlimid has the strangest face that some have ever seen.

In the frozen north one must protect oneself from the winds, so he wears the pelts of five beasts. A bear, a boar, a wolf, a deer, and a mountain lion. With the beasts heads intact, the pelts hang off of his body, obscuring his visage from those who face him. He looks like a five headed beast on the battlefield, a morbid chimera in human form. Wielding an axe so large it could cleave any number of great beasts in half with but one swing. Beneath his pelts is a suit of hefty armor with even more fur beneath.

When he ingests the Berserker Drug his heart rate skyrockets, his blood boils and the air around him begins to steam. Clouds of mist exude from the furs on his body, making his appearance even more inhuman. Like a spirit of death he storms across the battlefield, washing away all who stand in his way. Wordlessly and violently, Feidlimid is truly a sight to behold.

Occupation: Soldier

Resources:
Fur and Iron armor: The skin of bears, boars, mountain lions, deer, and wolves. Strapped over a partial suit of chain and plate. It protects him from cold winds and sharp swords alike. Just as strong as any suit of iron armor.

Two Sheep Bladders full of the Berserker Drug: Approximately two gallons worth of the drug that allows him to go into the Berserker State.

The Ravenous Bloodthief: A greataxe of epic proportions, crafted from tooth and bone and iron. A great beast of the sea plagued the Berserkers, killing all who dared sail its sea. A great warrior stepped up and slay the beast with a single swipe from a sword twice as long as himself. Then he left wordlessly, leaving the corpse of the monster on the shore. The Warband took its body and forged numerous weapons from its bones and teeth, but none were greater than the Ravenous Bloodthief. Created to be as long and great as the sword of the mysterious warrior, its weight was so great that even the strongest of warriors couldn't use it properly.

When Feidlimid took the weapon up as a boy it was a worthless weight upon his shoulders, but as the years passed it became evident that ONLY Feidlimid could use it. He took it as his own and weilds it with pride. Strangely enough, when he's on the field of battle. Remarks pass from mouth to ear of how he looks very much like the nameless warrior who slayed the sea beast.

Skills:
Proficiency with Large Weapons: When Feidlimid chose his weapon he chose the largest axe he could find, the older warriors laughed at him when the weapon he chose towered over him. They laughed even harder when he could barely stand while holding it. Years later, after countless days and nights of persistent training, Feidlimid now weilds the greatest of axes with ease. His own axe, crafted from bone and iron weighs well over 200 lbs.

Hunting: Though unconventional, Feidlimid hunts with his bare hands. Tackling his prey and breaking their necks, he'd prefer this to hunt with his axe. But a swing of his axe tends to shred the flesh and make a grizzly unusable mess. He hunts with no armor and no weapons.

Tracking: A necessity in the northern lands, to find food in such a barren landscape one must know where it hides.

Incredible Strength and Stamina: Even without his berserker rage he is strong enough to heft his greataxe around in combat, and utilize it without much risk to himself. He's strong enough to break bones with his bare hands and shatter wooden shields with a kick. Though this strength is not superhuman, in reality he can barely lift his axe on his own. When he swings it, they are low sweeping swings towards the legs and maybe the torso. It is only when he takes the berserker drug that he can properly use his weapon. There are no vertical swings of his axe unless he is in the blood rage.

Berserker Blood Rage: When a man of the Berserker tribe ingests the Berserker drug, he falls into a trance like state. Their eyes narrow to the width of a pinhead and they get tunnel vision. They lose themselves to the blood rage and their strength almost triples, they become unstoppable juggernauts on the field of battle. Deadly wounds don't even slow them down, an arrow to the chest will stay in his chest until his body collapses from exhaustion. They clench their teeth so hard that their gums bleed, their internal temperature rises, their heart pumps dangerously fast. They are hot to the touch, steaming in the wintery winds of the north. The blood rage lasts a few hours and leaves all who take it unable to move for hours afterwards. Only the strongest actually survive the ordeal, leaving nothing but strong warriors in the Berserker Warband.

Personality:
The effects of the Berserker's Drug are degenerative and horrifying. The changes to a user's psyche can be so drastic that they can never be corrected. Feidlimid is one of the unfortunate souls who can never return to a normal life. The drug has stained his brain, his mind is tainted with the spillage of blood. Faces and names are lost to him forever, a life that he once knew is now a photograph soaked in blood. Unrecognizable and painful to think about. There is a woman who said she was once his wife, but her face and voice didn't stick with him for long. All that is left of Feidlimid is a husk, a hollow. A violent being with no purpose in life, beyond the slaughter and gore of the battlefield. In the rare moments where he is off the field of bloodshed he is reserved and silent, trying actively to keep his temper in check. He's prone to uncontrollable fits of violent rage,making him a detriment to those who would trust him.

Behind the monster lies the faintest echoes of a once great man, and sometimes he will make slight but noticeable actions that mirror that once great man.

He once, before the drug, held the gods in high regard. Worship daily, following their ideals to the letter. But now, he can't even remember what a god is. The halls of Valhalla once called to him, but now an echo of Hel rings his name.

Biography: Born to a mother who cheated on her husband with a traveler, he was left in the wild to die. As the cold began to clutch at his heart, a brawny soldier found the infant who had just let out his final helpless wail. Feidlimid was nursed back to health and raised into a great warrior. Even before he was introduced to the Berserker Drug he was a fierce warrior, at the age of 16 he was able to keep stride with the blood rage warriors. On the field of battle at the age of 20, after seven campaigns, he was offered the Berserker Drug. Four days later, he awoke in the enemy encampment. Not a soul was alive, and he was naked and blood soaked. As time wore on he began to take it compulsively, until the rage didn't even cause him to black out. He watched every second pass by in the blood rage, and still does to this day. Feidlimid slowly lost himself, everything that he had built up in his youth tore down as he waged war after war. Now, in his silver years he still battles like a youth, but his heart is deeply pained by what he has become.

[User]
It was like a strange and violent work of art how quickly the barbarian reacted to the demon's movement. Not even knowing what gunpowder is, let alone a gun, the Raven's reaction to his movement was as fluid as a man who had fought against a gunman time and time again. Immediately as Cho drew back to withdraw his weapon, in that slight pause that was an opening he leapt on even the slightest sliver of weakness or exposure. That red tunnel vision locked tightly on Cho's chest as his weapons materialized. Disarmed is exposed, no matter how short your window is if you're not swinging your weapon.

Feidlimid lunged harshly to the left and his weapon cut a clean swathe through the dirt, tundra grasses were peeled form the earth's surface and flung into the air as he began a second, much fiercer swing. Mid leap, he twisted himself and planted his left foot harshly to the ground and pulled with hsi tremendous might. It slingshot from the near-static position it had started in straight towards the easterner's chest. Just before he could belch fire and slime from his guns, Feidlimid was already leaping straight into real action.

That's what he needed. Quick movements draw his eyes, they're like flames that flicker just in the center of his vision. When everything blurs together you need to learn how to analyze what you can see, even if you're not a terribly analytic mind.

Now the swing itself wasn't a killing blow, as he had just swung his weapon and the blunt of his axe was facing towards the exposed Cho, but whether or not it connected or if Feidlimid was to be shot shortly after moving was up to the reactions of the eastern warrior in response to the sudden and unexpected movement.

[Assistant]
"Oh for cryin' out loud! I was just looking for directions! Kol you owe me a drink after this!"

Cho backpedaled some more, opening up the distance between himself and the errant Viking as his swing went wide. Grass and clods of dirt shot into the air and pelted his face and chest as he sidestepped and ran outward into the field, creating a huge open gap between his opponents.

As he ran, he twisted his body and fired at the Viking, squeezing full bore on the trigger as he coated the floor and walls of the ruined castle with shadows. Whether or not any shadow bolts actually hit his first opponent, the chances were highly unlikely since he wasn't even aiming properly, but that was his intention. Still, he needed to open up some space in between the raging Viking and his friend Kol, who had just summoned the ice spell that he'd encountered once before.

After running a few feet away he stopped, his SMG now down on his chest as he drew his sniper rifle. Without caring to aim, he pointed its barrel in Feid's general direction and pulled the trigger. A Shredder round screamed straight for the Viking's right side, though it was fairly easy to dodge.

[User]
Each stride took Kolskegg closer to the Berserker and Cho. Each stride caused the swirling snow and dropping temperatures to surge forward towards them. The sword, drawn and ready, the shield set as Kolskegg roared with a lusty howl and defiant cry to Odin.

"All-Father prepare your great hall for the valiant are coming!"

Finding a set of broken stones, once the foundation for another castle, the burly Viking laid foot upon the top and hurled himself towards the two combatants. Swirling snow blasted forward in a cone that rapidly covered the ground in several inches of snow. The fury of Ymir was falling now, as the chill cascaded over the ground, the stone Kolskegg stood upon and all it could reach. Cover them in an icy frost that would cause frostbite and hypothermia in a short time as the gale winds carried with the snow.

Landing several dozen feet from the Berserker, dropping to one knee, and quite a distance from Cho, Kolskegg rose up slowly, "My friend, another fight then, between warriors true!"

[Assistant]
Again the sorcerous demon spat its evil spells towards the warrior, a few of its bullets raked across his left arm. Puncturing his bicep before passing through him, its speed barely halted by his mortal flesh. Pain would normally have seared across him, but the strange numbness and burning of the berserker rage was drowning out whatever pain the demon could provide. The chase was on, and the air had somehow grown more frigid.

A problem for the weak.

His body had begun to steam in the cold of the air, through the nostrils and eyeholes of his pelted beasts. His own eyes bloodshot, visible through the eyeholes of a bear, glared down at Cho. Movement, retreat, chase and kill. Though he didn't seem aware of it, Feidlimid was hot on the sorcerer's tail. Dragging behind him, his weapon tore the earth apart more and more as he ran. The noise was tremendous, though not enough to drown out the speach of Kolskegg. A wizard, magic user ilk. Barely noticeable as the Raven chased his prey, though possibly the source of the cold.

With his blade in his left arm, and blood oozing down his sleeve, Feidlimid chose upon an easier method of attack as Cho turned around. Whipping his weapon and firing off another shot, directly into his right kidney and out the back of his torso. Blood stained the ground behind him and the newly fallen sleet from Kol's frost magics.

As Cho spun around to unleash his own attack, Feidlimid had raised his right arm upwards and threw a harsh punch towards the throat of the demon. Even before his opponent had turned to face him, he knew that he was about to turn. A marksman always turns while retreating, an attempt to catch their enemy off guard as they flee. It doesn't work on Berserkers, they're too fast, even in their heavier armor.

A normal human couldn't reply to an attack like this, but the Raven wasn't normal.

He was a beast given the body of a man.


[System]
{{My timezone is UTC+0900, but I don't exactly have regular waking/sleep hours.}}
Appearance:

^when someone suggests a boat.

The first things people notice about Giovanni, are his pointed ears, sickly pale skin and abject hairiness in the colour of semi-burnt wood, all in a sturdy looking, slightly tall upright frame. His tattered clothing make him look even shadier. And while his almost constant scowl of furry brows and orange eyes, generally everything, suggest that he is of the rowdy kind, other details seem to contradict the idea.

His voice remains clear and his speech, articulate, despite an actively suppressed growl. While his facial expressions still convey his intentions like any civillized being. This notion of civility being supported more by his insistence of wearing proper belted trousers, shoes, a single palladium ring and carrying on his belt that little red velvet book of his wherever he goes.

But most of all, he looks like a contradiction. Like someone who doesn't quite belong in his own skin. Like someone who is constantly disturbed by more instinctual impulses yet holds himself back, so the only sign of them are the occasional fidget and glance. Hiding them behind a mask of pretence and educated responses like any sane person would.

...Perhaps he is also unaware that this isn't normal.

Personality:
- Misanthrope - Resourceful - Altruisic - Conflicted -
Age:
-Not very sure, thinks it's twenty to thirty years? Really, preferably, twenty. ... Must be twenty. No, nineteen! ...yeah. *starts wondering if anyone would believe seventeen*

Origin:
Flashes of a tattered homestead, roiling smoke and the churn of grinding metal. Giovanni cusps his forehead with one hand and irritatedly scratches his oddly furry neck with the other. Ever since he was "woken up", some of his memories became like ghosts in the mists - incomprehensive and fleeting, but always teasingly just out of reach. He vaguely remembers that life was not very fulfiling, that the world seemed a sickening place, that he wanted it all to end. But why?

Rolling over his aching body, he pushed himself up with one arm and felt a sticky red dust smear his fingers. Blood!? He traced it to his own clothing, his shirt ripped by a set of gashing holes that ran across his chest. Alarmed, he quickly touched the wound, only to find a thick scar had long closed over it. ...How?

Many questions roamed his mind now, while he himself roamed towards the seats as the jittery buzz of adrenaline fades slowly into a pleasurable hum .......

Life:
...soon he found himself looking at his upturned, calloused hands, starting to imagine the work he did. Or what words came when he conceptualized the word "work". The clammy texture of rubber, cold metal wires, and the buzzing sting of electricity. Yes, these phantom sensations felt farmiliar, almost ...real. He felt a brief smidgeon of relief. Musing on them even further- blueprints and various protocols came to mind, from the simple ballista to the towering mage spires that dot the capital of an unknown land. Perhaps he had a stint as a mechanic of sorts ...

Gio, for short, then spends the rest of the evening staring at empty space, taking in the many scents of the night, all in quiet contemplation of what might well be his past.

Well, at least he remembers his name.

Talents:

- Engineering -Gio possesses a mechanically inclined mindset, making it easy for him to build, modify and repair devices. While hardly a genius by any standard, his wide breath of techniques from boundless inquisitiveness lends him a bit of an edge when it comes to engineering.
- Abjuration -Some are born talented, others have studied years for their first time. Gio is somewhere in between when it comes to magical sciences. Neither savant or incapable. His altrusic nature has gravitated him towards understanding the mysteries of barriers, wards and other protective arts. Though retaining only a modicum of what he used to know, it seems he requires more study to regain any measure of fluency.
- Sharp Senses -Ever since waking up, Gio has experienced an unnaturally acute sense of smell and hearing. But sees things in a slightly monochrome hue. Could it be a side effect of the stasis they were in?
- Manual Strength and Dexterity -He is quick and nimble with his hands as required by his supposed profession, and years of lugging around heavy things have led him to overcome a good measure of physical fraility. So he thinks.

Flaws:
- Severe Thalassophobia -"No. No no. Nononononono. NO! I said NO, stop pushing me onto the bloody raft! *roar*"
- Morbid - He has a pessimistic, dark sense of humor and view of life. He believes most people are scum and he can be especially cruel to those he deems his enemies,
 much to the chargrin of even those he actually care about. His jokes may also be unfunny to most, as a side effect.
- Being Human (more or less) -Handle with care. Do not place near or towards sharp objects. Regulate temperature regularly. Requires clean water and food. Never store in air tight container.

Combat:
...Wait, what?

[User]
Not the Best Impression

 The situation was tense as everyone awaited an answer but none ever came. However, the tension seemed to die down as Eli spoke on behalf of his rash behaviour. Maybe it was the way he talked or the sound of his voice, but Eli had a bit of a calming effect on those around him. Ironically.

 When Kiana left the room, only did Gio let out a heavy sigh. He rolled his palm against the base of his neck, closing his eyes in relief as Natazume began to share her deeper thoughts on the matter...

 "But won't that also mean that Aquis let the rest of the world be destroyed?" He asked absent-mindedly to one of her points, eyes still closed. Only to realize moments later that he might have said something out of place. He snapped to attention, waving his hands hastily in front of him. "I-I mean no offense!" It was hard keeping his thoughts in check with all that's going on, much less his mouth.

 Resignedly he leaned back on a side of the unopened pod as Natazume's suggested, after grabbing a random wristband from under the screen, Roles ...what's the point? What do they want from us?  He stared at the device, arms crossed, twiddling it with one hand as he prodded and poked it with utmost care. Then he glanced at Eli's hands, Natazume's hands, and finally his own. Now's not the time to think about that either...

 It was a while that they waited and honestly the egglike shape only served to remind him of the growing ache in his stomach, he was getting hungry and they would have gone with the others too - had the pod not started beeping out of the blue. Gio backed away from the object, startled, and managed to leap a suprising distance when doing so. Gladly forsaking the comforting warmth that ran along it's metal shell. The beep was soft, almost inaudible, but Gio heard it loud and clear as it came from inside the thing.

 "Something's moving in there." He grumbled quietly, arms protectively stretched in front of the younger members of their crew. In retrospect, it was probably unneccessary - but one couldn't be too sure. After a few moments, suddenly, the hatch opened, releasing a human male that plopped to the floor with it's hands in a semi-kneeling position.

Why would I ...?

 Gio looked at the male up and down, eyebrows raised higher with each question flung at them. What caught his attention was the apron he was wearing and the glint of something else metal back in the pod.

 ".......S-sssure."

 He replied after Eli had a try at talking the new arrival down, maybe watching his reaction could shed some light on why this person would pressume such a thing. Was he a crimminal on the run? An outlaw? Someone that was a danger to everyone? It was better to know now than find out later. But then it dawned on him, the growing panic that had long been in the male's eyes, Gio only saw it now. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea...

 "Your guess is as good as ours." He paused, thinking of a way to make sense of things that even he was not sure of, into words for this fellow. "The genius loci of this place calls where we arrre, the Flock. -It- claims to have saved us before our world was destroyed 15 years ago? So here you are ...saved." Then he raised one hand and pointed to the pod behind him.

 "By that thing."

 "There are OTHERS exploring the ship as we speak." Gio's tone took a sterner, deeper turn, letting him know that it was not just the three of them if he tried anything funny.

 "Now, who are you and where do you come from?" He wanted honest answers, not particularly fond of people who raise their fists at young teenagers or himself. Especially since all three of them were unarmed, save for Natazume's magic, and this fellow had something hidden back there...

[Assistant]
Without warning, the final egg seemed to hatch, spawning a large brute man who was clearly panicked. Understandably so but Natazume wanted to avoid violence or any acts of aggression if possible. They couldn't be a threat to one another, even under such stress. "N-no one here is going to kill you." She tried to assure the man. Thankfully Eli stepped in to try and give some reassurance to the very confused man. Natazume watched him closely, 'He would do well as a Captain or first officer.' She considered, for now keeping her thoughts to herself as the four of them tried to sort everything out as best they could.

Next Gio tried to get some answers and Natazume made a note that he too, would fall into either Captain or first officer quite nicely. But for now, it was best to save those choices for later. Gio wanted answers and she agreed, the other four and herself had been able to acclimate together and give a quick summary of where they were from. While Natazume did not hold any suspicions of the last individual to come out of his slumber, she wanted to ensure everyone was safe and on the same page.

"My name is Natazume, that's Gio and that's Eli." She started to tell the other man. Eli did a good job at filling him in about what had happened though in all honesty, it was still a big mystery to everyone else involved as well. "We were picking roles we would like to try and take while on this...ship." It was difficult for her to equate this place with the kinds of ships she knew back home, the ones crafted with love and honesty.

The woman glanced down to where the other two had wandered off toward.

'I wonder what they're up to.' She mused. As...interesting as there current venue was, Natazume was itching to see another part of their new home. She wanted to see if there was anything, anything at all that brought her closer to home. Perhaps some kind of body of water where she could find some moment's peace. She took a step back and looked to the bracelets that were left. They needed to pick something so they could all move on and explore with the others. "Those will give us access to the others areas. I guess we'll find places to sleep and eat."

Of course until she found these so called places, she wouldn't believe anything. The technology that surrounded them was unreal and yet they were awake, very much awake. She had confidence in those around her but they still needed to sit down and gather their wits and try to find out more about one another. If they were to find answers, they had to trust one another. For now it had to be given but she wanted to know more about who she was giving trust to. "I know it's a lot to take in...that our home and loved ones are gone...but we cannot change what has happened...it's a horrible shock and one we will have to live with, but we need to move forward as best we can. Somehow." Natazume said to the stranger.

It was doubtful that her words would offer comfort but she needed to give tough love along with encouragement.

[User]
"So!?" Gio snapped, he watched as the fellow remain silent but still no answers. It made him grit this teeth, twice now they were left in the dark about why they were here ...and now, who they were here with. It made him uneasy, he disliked not knowing thingss especially things that could endanger them.

 Like the ocean.

 And they called this a 'ship' didn't they?

Gio took a moment to quickly glance at the porthole Eli and Andrik were staring out earlier, immediately, he regretted doing so. The vastness and strange lights reminded him of the sea too much, his heart throbbed while he took an uneasy breath - forcing himself to look back at the interior.

"If he won't talk, let's just leave him here. I don't know if he's friend or foe ..." Gio's scowling amber eyes shot back to the 'egg' this newcomer came from. "But he's got a weapon back there."

 He then treaded out, toes clicking on the metal with a good bit of impatience but eyes never leaving the newcomer until both Eli and Natazume were out with him too. He was NOT leaving the two of them in there with someone like that.