[System]
Nickname: Friends and family often refer to her as "Jay" because of a slight obsession with bluejays when she was younger. She has given herself the nickname "Trauma".
Gender: Female
Age: 17

Brief Personality: Cammy used to be a lot happier and friendlier than she is today. But certain events have left her depressed and with a much darker personality than she used to. She tends to be quiet and somewhat moody but when she has something to say or gets angry then she's more than capable of vocalizing her thoughts. She's not fond of people touching her, mostly out of fear of what her power may inadvertently do to them.

Ability: Cammy is able to transfer other peoples pain to herself and others by touch. In addition to this, and possibly as a coping mechanism, her body is at peak human condition. She is faster, stronger, more agile etc. than a normal person. She doesn't need to eat or sleep as often as would normally be required and she doesn't seem to tire from exercise or strenuous activity.

Limits to Ability: When Cammy gets emotional, she can't fully control her ability. If she absorbs too much pain at any one time, her body may not be able to cope with it and she has, on at least one occasion, fallen into a coma after absorbing too much.

Age admitted into Riverwood: 16

Background: Cammy was born in Mumbai, the middle child to an Indian father and an American mother. Both of her parents were doctors and Cammy idolized them. She always dreamt of following in their footsteps. When Cammy was six, she and her family moved to America, for reasons Cammy was never fully aware of. Her parents opened a small clinic to treat the poor and underprivileged and Cammy was fond of helping out, often talking to the patients and easing their minds. Many people often remarked that they felt better just having Cammy around. This was a sentiment that seemed to echo throughout Cammy's life. People always liked her. Her parents patients adored her, her friends at high school loved her. She was a talented athlete with what seemed like boundless potential and it seemed like Cammy was altogether destined for a great life.

And then it happened.

Cammy remembers her mother's scream every day. While helping out at her parents clinic, Cammy heard her mom cry out from one of the examination rooms in the back. The young girl rushed into the room and saw the most horrific sight of her life. There was a man with a knife standing over her bleeding mother on the floor. Without even thinking, Cammy rushed to her mothers side, pushing the attacker aside as she did. When she held her mom in her arms, Cammy's powers seemed to kick in. The poor girl felt every second of her moms pain as she died. But Cammy remembers the gentle smile her mother gave her as she passed.

Cammy was filled with rage though. As her mothers attacker advanced on her, seemingly intent on ending her life too, Cammy lashed out and tackled the man to the ground. In a blind rage she punched him over and over again, transferring every ounce of pain running through her body to him with every blow. She almost beat the man half to death and admits that she would have finished the job had she not blacked out.

When she awoke a few days later, she found herself in an old motel room with her father and younger brother. Confused and heartbroken, Cammy listened to her dad explain that her mom was dead. She already knew this. What she didn't know was that her attacker had seemingly escaped in the confusion. Not only that but some men had apparently come looking for Cammy. Her father, seemingly knowing who these men were, had whisked Cammy and her brother away. He was concerned for their safety.

He explained to Cammy about his plan to send her to a special school. One that could help her learn about her abilities and keep her safe. Under normal circumstances, Cammy would have protested against this. But these weren't normal circumstances. And Cammy wasn't the same person she had been. She felt completely numb. Completely numb except for the dull ache at the back of her mind.

After arriving at the school, Cammy kept to herself mostly. The happy, friendly Cammy seemed to be gone. In her place was a quiet and moody young woman who would rather be by herself than around others. She finds it hard to connect to other people the way she used to and is still haunted by the face of her mother's killer.

Appearance:

[User]
"Calm down. You're safe here. Who's this Josie and why does she have you so upset?"

Terraline begged to differ. Any place Josie was in was not a safe place. "Well she's my sister but we don't get along so to say,"She told the girl briefly and slowly sat up.

"Careful, the paralysis they gave you was also poisonous. It almost killed you so take it easy. They take many measures to try to make sure the person dies. Consider yourself lucky. "Xander said dryly, taking her shoulder, "Save the parade of questions for later. There's a orientation for the new year. They're going to hand out class schedules and everything out. You can ask questions there." He winked again at the girl before turning to go into the next room. He paused seeing two newcomers."What is this a side-show? You people have nothing better to do huh? "He sighed, brushing between the boy and girl to Josie's room.

Terry took a deep breathe. Poisoned? She still had no idea what was going on. She found she did not care what had just happened to her. There was no way she was going to lay around in this stupid bed.
"Oh, no, no, I'm so sorry." came a female voice, "We didn't mean to intrude, we just-"

"-Had to see the new students." another voice finished. It belonged to the handsome boy beside the first girl. Terry hadn't seen anyone so beautiful before. She stared at him for good ten seconds before snapping out of her trance. They introduced themselves at Eilowyn and Sage. They seemed friendly enough but Terry didn't want to stick around here for too long. Josie wasn't far. "Hi! Nice to meet you, I'm Terry," She got up on wobbly legs and stumbled to her feet, only to slip. She caught the side of the bed and held her throbbing head in pain.

"All students report to the auditorium in the next five minutes!" came a voice on the loud speaker.

[Assistant] "WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME!?!?",Lucas gets up and brushes himself off before he heads off to the auditorium. Upon making it to the giant auditorium, he walks to a very far corner far away from the people gathering in the auditorium, hoping people didn't try to sit next to him. He pulls out an iPod, puts in some headphones, and then with some difficulty he turns it on and pulls up his music app. He pulls out one of his headphone buds.

[User]
As Terry explained who Josephine was, Cammy found herself thinking about her own family. She hadn't seen them in such a long time. Her dad had taken her younger brother, Charlie, into hiding and while they made contact every now and then, Cammy had no idea where they were. Her dad had told her it was safer that way. The implication had been that it was safer for Cammy but she knew the truth. He meant safer for Charlie. If the people looking for Cammy somehow managed to find her, chances were they would want to know where the rest of her family were in order to make sure none of them had powers too. Cammy understood the logic but it didn't make her feel any better.

Despite her father's warnings on the danger, Cammy's older brother, Mohan, had elected to not go into hiding and instead stayed in college. He had so far managed to avoid any kind of trouble. Inexplicable as that seemed to Cammy. She had a feeling he would be safe though. Mo had always been strong and independant. He knew how to take care of himself. Cammy had practically idolized her older brother while growing up and wanted to be just like him. She loved her family to pieces and they had returned that love. That's why it seemed so strange to her that Terraline was so afraid of her own sister.

Xander then winked at her again and Cammy could only narrow her eyes in confusion. She wasn't sure what to make of this guy. Sure, he was cute and all but he seemed utterly heartless. She was almost glad when he left, pushing his way past Eilowyn and Sage. She noticed the look Eilowyn gave Xander as he left and the awkward length of time Sage and Terry made eye contact for. It was almost like she was invisible by the bedside.

In days gone past, Cammy would probably have been more upset about being practically ignored by her fellow students. After all, it wasn't like she hadn't gotten to know them in the year since her arrival here. But these days she honestly didn't mind. She wasn't really interested in socialising anymore. She had retreated into herself since her mother's death and seemed to only really talk to others when they addressed her first. Her desire to help others was really what had driven her to find her way to Terry's room, rather than the random curiosity of the others.

When Terry began to get out of bed, only to stumble, Cammy was quick to grab hold of her to stop her falling to the floor. This time she didn't bother asking for permission and put her hand to the other girls head, instinctively knowing that she was in pain. Terraline would begin to instantly feel the pain leave her and her head clear as Cammy used her power. Still holding onto Terry, Cammy dropped her head slightly as a dull throb coursed through her skull. The ain quickly dissipated however and Cammy was quick to smile at Terry in assurance that everything was alright.

"All students report to the auditorium in the next five minutes!" a voice bellowed over the tannoy.

"We better go" said Cammy to the room "There'll be hell to pay if we're not there." Still holding gently to Terry's arms, Cammy informed the girl "Trust me, you're safer here than anywhere else. And if that sister of yours tries anything, she'll have me to deal with." She gave Terry her friendliest smile before turning to the others and saying "Come on. Let her get dressed. We'll wait outside." She made a show of shooing them from the room and right before closing the door, she looked over her shoulder at Terraline and informed her with a smile "Welcome to Riverwood"


[System]
* Age: 16
* Gender: Female
* Race: Oni
* Appearance: She's definitely on the short side... and the completely flat side. Akari is one of those highschool students (technically) that everyone eagerly mistakes for a middle school student.
* Personality: Everyone expects an oni to be brash, confident (at least until defeated), and rowdy. At the very least you expect them to be loud or somehow aggressive. This is all completely untrue of Akari, who is happiest communicating with everyone via technology rather than in person, and would much like to be back in her room undisturbed. Even when you get past the extreme shyness by enough association or shared interests, she's still meek, worried about her own strength, and disturbingly skittish. With an extra irrational fear of samurai, which is definitely a bit odd for a girl who's worn traditional clothing every day of her life except the one week she went to school.
* Abilities: Akari is a shockingly powerful oni, for someone that has had no reason to exercise her natural abilities to any extent. Despite her unimposing physique, there are very few people who are going to be winning if it's simply a contest of pitting strength against one another. She's about as difficult to seriously injure; blunt force is mostly useless without some serious strength behind it, and simply cutting her often requires magical assistance or massive force. Plus, like her mother, if it's not cut off entirely it will doubtless heal fine, and losing limbs would be more of a (physical) inconvenience than life-threatening.
Although she hasn't any practice at using it, Akari has inherited Ibaraki's affinity for Heat--not just heat in the direct sense, but heat as a driving force for changes. It's this affinity that led Ibaraki-douji so easily to shapeshifting, and allows for just reattaching missing body parts later. She's also inherited the ability--or some would call it a mystic scar--common to all of the famous oni's relatives: Lost Arm. So significant was the injury that, even now, her entire extended bloodline has the ability to summon a single phantom arm.
You know, if two arms isn't enough for hitting things.
* Skills: None of any particular use! She's actually rather clumsy, which is bad because of the strength that comes from being an oni. This also extends to a tendency to trip on things and fall down stairs, though that's more disorienting and worrying for people watching rather than actually dangerous to Akari.
* Equipment: "Mum said I should bring an iron club if something dangerous happens..." She also has a phone, "a little spending money" day to day--that is, enough money that anything of interest to a sixteen year old oni is fine--and a perfectly-accurate seeming ID that nevertheless claims Akari to be an adult, because oni and alcohol are inseparable.
* Brief Backstory: As her name attests, Akari is closely related to the Ibaraki-douji. Extremely closely; Ibaraki is her mother and Akari doesn't have the faintest clue who her father is. This, in and of itself, makes her the closest thing a rowdy bunch like oni can have to royalty--and also, with the benefit of being born into an extremely small family that has had a thousand years of practice avoiding danger and past banditry, used to the wealth that implies.
Akari spent most of her childhood in a very traditional home, essentially secluded from the non-supernatural world, and told all the supernatural stories one might expect. Of course, the viewpoint was skewed--the role of hero and villain constantly inverted, with the samurai and exorcists vilified for going after oni that were only acting according to their natural desires and compulsions. Given the obvious problems that a supernaturally strong child with some innate drive to prey on humanity could fall into, this also meant a distinct lack of school attendance.
They moved to a more modern house, one actually positioned conveniently for school, when it was time for Akari to start middle school. After attending for a few days, she just... stopped, the ease with which she had accidentally hurt someone in sports and the pressure of pretending to be human--on top of her own limited experience with so many people--just overwhelming the young oni. Although she's somewhat kept up with the schoolwork, a large amount of Akari's time has instead found itself devoted to popular entertainment--light novels, anime, and so on.
Ibaraki is hardly someone one would expect to be an experienced parent... or skilled at addressing this in a manner more appropriate than "fight it out", which would hardly help in this situation, so she's been trying to find someone that might help... or at least get Akari to socialise more.

[User]
Hina couldn't help but smile when Homura chuckled at her joke. She had thought it was a good one, albeit obvious, but it was always nice to get recognition, even from a Human. After being scared by Shina (but not that much because she knew it was the Tanuki and only cowered and whimpered a little bit) and insulted by Shu (to which she replied that his mom was, in fact, the dullard) the group was off to the playground. Hina would have to take extra special care not to just play on the swings and instead get to work on this important case.

Solidifying her resolve in the pouring rain (how she hated the rain. The gleam of the knife in the pale moonlight. Screams drowned in the oncoming torrent of-), they eventually arrived at the playground, Hina profoundly unwettened due to her ability to incorporealize. The little Zashiki clapped as Tomko performed her far-too-elaborate summoning, whistling and cheering, saying "that's my chuuni boss for you~"

A ghost did, indeed, appear. It was, indeed, very scary. The gushing slit in her throat reminded Hina of some not-so-fun times in her past, but she shook her head. No time for the past. She was on a fun adventure with people that probably cared about her.

Probably.

The ghost took a slightly more pleasing form, and Hina approached her with notepad in hand. Hina would start out good cop, but she could do bad cop too if the situation called for it.

"Hey~ I'm Hina, our group's lovable mascot character, and I wanted to ask you a few questions about a recent disappearance in the area. This playground, specifically. I'm all business, you know, so I'm definitely not tempted to play on those slides right now," Hina said, as stone-faced as she could make herself (which wasn't much), "so tell me... did you see anything unusual around the time the Makishima kid vanished? If you give me any good information..."

Hina leaned in and whispered into the ghost's ear, "I can give you a tip on beating Tomoko. Or alternately, if you want to do it without my help... I'll draw your OC. Don't worry about being cringe, I don't judge. All OCs are someone's baby, and I respect that."

[Assistant]
Shimizu Kaori
Playground

---

Alas, their time in the clubroom had come to an end...and so did her time with the Mujina. As much as she'd like to keep the small shapeshifting spirit with her, it would likely be nothing more than a distraction during their investigation. As such, Kaori would instead opt to leave her in the clubroom. Grabbing her own umbrella, Kaori would follow the rest out of the clubroom, and out into the rainy day that had been given to them.

A playground was their destination, hm?

"My my, an excellent display as always Tomo-chan." Kaori would agree with Hina, lightly clapping as Tomoko made her totally necessary and accurate summoning. And what a cute ghost that was summoned too! She had to wonder what such a cute ghost was doing here, but she couldn't really complain that the end result was meeting another cute ghost. "And what a cute little ghost, Ehehe. I'm Kaori, just a little spider employed by Tomoko-chan. As Hina has said, we're looking into a child that disappeared around here." The spider would give a brief description of Makishima Taro as well as the general time of day that the disappearance had occurred. "It would be of great help if you could assist us."

[User]
Homura had an umbrella, so at least getting there wasn't a problem for her. Tomoko did her thing, with a usual flair that was endearing, if unnecessary. And they had their ghost. There was something funny about her dropping the horror act once she knew who it was, but hey, everyone's got appearances to keep up.

Hina had already stared with the important questions, so there wasn't much reason to just chime in with "what she said." Instead, Homura started looking around the area. This definitely wasn't the usual place for a disappearance. Far too open, although they had already assumed a supernatural cause.

She turned her attention to the others. "What do you think? Know anything that likes to hang out in places like this?"

[Assistant]
Shina pulled her small Oni up out of the chair. "Come on, grab whatever you need." The Tanuki reached out towards the wall and an umbrella poofed into existence in her hand. Likely enough, she probably hid it so no one stole it. "You can walk under the umbrella with me, Akari-chan~" She'd wait for Akari to grab whatever she needed and urged her out so they didn't fall behind. Soon enough they reached the playground and the rain was dying. Shina just smiled as Tomoko summoned the spirit of the ghost. "Ohhh, she's a cute ghost. The ones I know tend to look a bit more spooky. Good people but if you didn't know better they'd scare your socks off."

She then turned to Homura who had asked them all a question. "What do I think? I think cute girls tend to hang around after a certain type of spider is done with them, but I don't think that's what you mean." She looked over toward the resident spider. "But... Other than that, I'm sure there are a small number of Youkai that frequent the city much as some of us present do but a playground? Hmm. Is there anything that would want to try bothering children at a playground in the middle of the day?" She shrugged. "I'm not too familiar with any of the really recent Urban Legends. Hanako-tan, Kuchisake-Onna... Any of those ones I know." Shina shrugged. She looked out to the playground and smiled as the rain was just about gone.

She poofed into smoke and her appearance changed again. Now, she looked like a younger child version of herself about Akari's size. "Hey, hey. Akari-tan~ Wanna play at playground?" She teased the girl, always enjoying teasing the girl.

[User]
"Oh, that's right..." Akari mumbled, thinking about it. She could hit a ghost. It was kind of a useless ability to have unless there were ghosts around, as far as she knew what to do with it, so it was the sort of thing that so easily slipped her mind... especially when she could only do it because of a scary story!

As much as she didn't want to go outside--for a whole variety of reasons today, from the fact they were going out to a playground to get a ghost to show up to the part where it was wet to the threat of being a potential abductee if something went horribly wrong--there was little resistance on the oni's part. She didn't even have to grab her own umbrella, she just made sure to bring another drink along. It wouldn't be the first time she'd had to prove her (fake) age to some concerned citizen or the police, and maybe it'd put off... whatever was doing this.

She might have overreacted to the ghost's appearance. Just a little. The smouldering, phantasmal arm held threateningly in case the horrifying corpse came anywhere near her was a bit more aggressive than was needed when the spirit stopped being spooky, and she sheepishly let it fizzle out, with nothing to particularly offer in terms of 'what might be behind this'.

The oni looked at the bottle in her hand, then her clothing, when Shina suggested... playing around. "My clothes would get wet. And I'd probably break something..."

Or they'd get caught, that was another one. A kimono was hardly playground attire.


[System]
M i m r i n"You haven't changed, no one has–you've just lost everything that made you great, and now you're…this."
Age

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Early Twenties

Gender

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Female

Archetype

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Agile Duelist

Physical Description

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Mimrin isn't an entirely imposing person. She is of average height, but lean and boyish, lacking bulk. Her hair has faded to a pallid white, with only the faintest wash of pink dye remaining in a handful of strands, suggesting a more bombastic life. Her eyes are a burning emerald, miraculously untouched by the resurrection.

The mark of her death is fairly evident: from the ugly scar running the whole of her neck, it's fair to assume she was decapitated, and not cleanly.

Personality Traits

---

There are two sides to Mimrin. The one who awoke would have been considered a disgrace to her warmongering homeland. She is reserved, timid, and shies from violence out of fear. Her Draethir blood has cooled, congealed, and left her with a worried, caring attitude. Some might even say Mimrin is friendly.

Then there is Mimrin, the Undying.

Most of those brought back from the grave may feel within them a tug towards their old ways. They may fight urges or give into impulses reflecting who they once were. True to the title once bestowed upon her, the Mimrin of old did not truly die. This past self still lurks in the depths of her mind, not a mere collection of impulses and memories, but a personality all its own. This Mimrin is vile, sadistic, hungry for violence and revels in coaxing the worst out of her compatriots.

And so the Mimrins, Redeemed and Undying, remain in constant struggle. While the former enjoys more frequent and complete control, as they say, old habits die hard. When backed into a corner, like any animal, instincts take over.

Attributes

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The UndyingNothing in Draethir was given lightly, Mimrin tore this title from the hearts and throats and guts of her victims, and its blood-soaked meaning endured in her memories, even after death. It was the duty of Draethir assassins to hunt down valuable targets on the battlefield and dispatch them with vicious efficiency. Often they were considered suicide soldiers, engaging commanders, chieftains and archons, individuals they knew to be highly-trained. Mimrin survived though, on the back of exceptionally quick reflexes and a savage mastery in the art of fighting one-on-one. It stands to reason that these skills do not transfer well when out-numbered, however.
Squeamish SadistRedeemed, Mimrin is generally concerned for the well-being of others and tends to shy away from conflict or violence. She's even adopted a fear of blood since awakening. Mimrin the Undying however, was and is a sadist. She delights in the pain of others, sometimes just delighting in pain itself. Though plenty might find this detestable, at the end of the day if someone needs to be hurt, brought to the very brink of their tolerance for agony, she's the person to go to.
She Who Fights and Runs Away…There's glory in a bloody death, but there's more glory in living to kill again. Redeemed, Mimrin sees her natural agility and affinity for speed as a godsend to someone who fears and has no talent for violence. In truth however, these skills were developed out of necessity long ago, and Mimrin the Undying much prefers utilizing them to skirt about her enemies, often closer than is necessary.
The Real YouMimrin lost her memories in the redemption, like all of the redeemed. However, with her past self enduring still, Mimrin the Undying is more aware than most just how changed they can be. If she herself can be reduced to a trembling coward, than the others brought back as well would surely wretch to see what they had become. She looks for signs, for slips back towards her compatriots' more ruthless natures, and tirelessly attempts to urge them back to their old ways.

Inventory & Equipment

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Wrappings of the Draethir AssassinsA tattered mix of dark leathers and iron, one would be hard-pressed to call what remains of this ensemble "armor." As well, besides the faded black-and-red colors, the only claim it holds to Draethir is Mimrin's memory.
The Tyrant's ClawsGifted during her service, these daggers were the only things buried with Mimrin. While once they may have been beautiful weapons, time has rendered their value almost entirely sentimental. Their conditions are poor, with the better of the two missing its tip and bearing chips along its inward-curved edge, and the worse snapped off entirely an inch or so off the guard.

Gift of Rebirth

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Duality/Assimilation:In addition to being initially unaware of the gift in general, it comes with a secondary caveat–it can only be used by her former personality. This Gift is a supplementary to Mimrin's fighting style. Conceptually it is a form of sustain, with which she can recover damages done to herself by inflicting damage upon others. In reality what this equates to is a violent, horrid exchange of flesh. By carving into another, the viscera produced replaces what Mimrin has lost in a whirl of scarlet veins. The extent of this reparative Gift's uses is thus far limited to healing external wounds.

[User]
A u d h i l d

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The Well of Valdis
12th Day of Autumn, 1088 AD

---

Young fire, burning in a tenebrous pit. A flame which birthed from the lost and irrecoverable past to give life anew. It moved, searing and scorching through the black as it expelled waves of colour and light; for once lit, it would not be extinguished until death consumed it offering.

The fluttering of eyelids, still sealed shut, signalled the time to once again rise. They feared to open, feared to look upon the world with a sense of enthusiasm, for it was the scent of the dead which was recognised by young Audhild. The wet smell of rotting flesh and the sickly taste that swirled through the nostrils was inescapable, uncontrollable, and forcibly consumed by those who had awoken. A pulse of instinctive energy erupted from deep within the woman's gut, a contraction of vomiting reflexes that produced no more than gaseous air. Century old taste of maggots and bacteria.

An alien scream flowed from her lips as her body reared awake. Eyes torn open, the pants of hysteria, the adrenalin which slumbered for so long kicked Audhild with a medicinal high that could almost send her back to the depths of death. Her mind had forgotten everything that once was, but her body was not so complainant. Without thought, without hesitation, Audhild climbed through the seas of corpses that laid upon her unfortunate soul as she rose to the summit of flesh and bone. It had become a birth of life through the gift of death — a reaper's failed task, or a god's forsaken gift.

"Hvor er jeg?" Words muttered from a language unknownst to even her as she surveyed the hills of tarred blood.

"Where am I?" She repeated, finally clearing a section of intellect with much needed logic and curiosity. Expressing the confusion to demand an answer from whatever benevolent being that happened to be watching over them at this point in their life. As though it was the will of the universe Audhild heard the subtle sounds of voices from afar, resonating through the pitch void to her sensitive ears.

"Who goes there?" She bellowed, husky and full of might as she dropped to her knees in a scampering forage for any form of suitable protection. A blade, a bone, even flesh to throw would be better than nothing, but the more she searched the more she found which was not suitable to her needs. Her hands brushed over every surface in a panicked frenzy as two names snuck their way into her thoughts...

Oyen & Stohl...

Audhild froze. For the first time since awakening the Skogarian woman had recollected some form of memory. The most insignificant of drops in the ocean of the past, but enough to remind her what it once felt to be human.

"Where am I?" A third time for asking the same question, but this time she was awaiting an answer. Too many questions were formulating inside her head, and none had been truly answered... all except that she knew she had somehow been reborn.

[Assistant]
U L R I C

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The Well of Valdis
12th Day of Autumn, 1088 AD

---

Breath. The sudden, automatic spark of his nervous system suddenly reacting again was startling, yes. Like the dull rumblings of someone who had slept for a very, very long time. Synapses fired, thoughts began to process. He began to feel again, for the first time in...how long? Concepts like time, cold, numbness, words and abstract thoughts began to flood his mind as he stirred, moving his limbs first, forcing his torso upwards, then sliding his legs over where his body had been laid. Senses began to flood back in as the still-young man fluttered his eyes open.

Smell came first. Death and decay. It was...familiar to him. But why was it familiar? He looked over himself the best he could. Cloth leggings covered his lower body, with old leather boots adorning his feet. He also had thick leather gloves on both hands, and covering his torso was a cloth jacket with broken links of chainmail ringlets around his shoulders, falling like forgotten vines of ivy around parts of his chest and torso. Armor, yes. But forgotten or damaged to the point that a thick gambeson would provide better protection.

He finally stood upwards, examining the room. Sparks began to fill his head, like tiny embers before they lit a great bonfire. Yes, he was…Ulric.  As he scanned the room, he knelt over to find a discarded weapon: what had once been a greatsword had shattered halfway through. It looked almost awkward, the hilt being now almost half the length of the blade. But he knew that he used a weapon like this...once. But when?

He took a deep breath of the acrid air moved from his resting-place into the greater chamber of this pit. It seemed others were waking and talking. He scanned the faces as he moved forward, blade at his side. Several women and an old man. An odd place to find such a motley assortment as any...but where were they? The question seemed to echo around each of them, and he did not feel the need to vocalize his own question. His gaze rose upward, towards the roof of the pit.

 "Wherever we are," his voice finally broke the air of questions from the different people, "It appears we have been placed among the dead." His face was grim. "Whether we are interred in a tomb or a grave-pit, I would much like to see the sun and breathe air that isn't so ripe of corpses."

[User]
M i m r i n

---

The Well of Valdis
12th Day of Autumn, 1088 AD

---

More people were rising, and Mimrin found herself backing away from them instinctively, towards the rosy girl. She wasn't sure why, considering the girl was armed as well, and there wasn't much reason to trust her over any of the others.

Nevertheless, one of the risen—an older man—was shouting, and it frightened her. She held her own dagger, or what remained of it, close, but tried not to appear as though she was brandishing it at any of them. Maybe she couldn't trust any of them yet, but it seemed worse to her to threaten the only other living souls around.

"Hello," she tried for the old man, who seemed the least composed of those she could see. It was hard to keep a steady voice, harder to will it into a gentle, comforting tone, but she managed. "It's okay. I don't think any of us are going to hurt you."

A taller woman approached, now speaking quietly to herself, followed by a man carrying the remnants of a sword. He proposed they leave, or at least expressed a desire to be out of this awful place—a sentiment she could get behind. But as she looked beyond their gathering group, a niggling worry came over her.

"I agree with you, we should make haste to leave," she said to the sword-wielding man, then turned her attention back to the corpses. "Only…if we've come-to, then there might be others about. Others like us, I mean—alive."

She felt a sudden, nauseous lurch inside of her. Perhaps it was the thought of spending any more time amongst the dead that plagued her, or perhaps she was afraid that the next person to rise would be a violent sort. Regardless, Mimrin felt compelled to check, even beyond her fear, and started back off onto the deathly mounds.

"We should be sure, before we go. It would be a terrible thing to abandon someone down here..."


[System]
Age: 23
Height: 5 ft 5
Weight: 150 lbs.
Allegiance: 'Hope'
Distinguishing Traits: Iris has a scar on her left hand, located on the wrist which was gained a few years back. No other scars but due to her pale skin Iris tends to bruise easily. Personality wise she is quite head strong, stubborn and isn't afraid to voice her opinion. Although she has light blue eyes in contrast to her fair skin in certain lights her eyes can be mistaken for grey.

Short Bio: Growing up in Aspiria sounded wonderful and it was if you were on the upper side. Iris however had grown up with her father on the rougher side, the commoner side of the city where you lived within your means. If you couldn't afford dinner well you wouldn't have dinner, it was as simple as that. It didn't really matter to her though because she had a loving family, her father worked hard day in and out and her mother kept the house maintained and food in their stomachs and it worked for them.
It all had changed when her mother fell ill and sadly passed away not long after. She had outright refused to use their money on medicine that would help her, and she was a stubborn woman a trait Iris had inherited. That death however sparked a rebellion, it fuelled her father's courage who gathered as many men, women and even teens that was willing to fight. He called it hope, hope for those wanting that better life.

Years had passed with many strikes; fights and a war had started between the two. Neither side wanted to relent, and her father Regis was focused on bringing down the hierarchy. His intentions had been pure at the start but since he was considered the leader of this rebellion, he had become accustomed to the ease of everything. Food on the table, weapons and money all donated to this cause and it fed his greed. He hungered for more, but no one knew that side. Not yet.

Now he had raised his daughter following his beliefs, ensuring that she bore just as much hatred for the higher ups as he did. He constantly twisted and manipulated her mind making her mother a martyr, ensuring that she believed it was their fault and that they had killed her mother and as Iris knew nothing else, she was left to believe such stories. Now being a young adult, she had trained herself to fight in this war, she could use a gun if needed but she much preferred being stealthy favouring a dagger. Using her size to her advantage and her skills in stealth she often gained information as leverage, but she had yet to kill someone, she had yet to have blood on her hands.

_________________________________________________________________________________

[User]
Hours had passed and Harry had been in and out of dozing off in his chair, nothing had changed when it came to Iris she had stayed in the bed and what he could only assume was in and out of sleep. Though she had refused to eat lunch, the doctors had brought him some food which was great and thoughtful, but her food laid on the table untouched alongside a cup of water. A part of him had wanted to tell her to eat something but it wasn't his business and he knew he shouldn't be getting involved. It was just his kind tendency; he had a kind heart.

"Knock, knock."

Frowning Harry glanced up as he heard a voice at the door, he wasn't expecting anyone, and the doctors weren't due. Shaking his head as he rose to his feet, he glanced at Iris seeing how she just stayed in the bed, this time however she was looking at the ceiling rather than the wall. Happy that she wouldn't just bolt, he doubted she could, but you couldn't underestimate these things he opened the door taking a step back when he saw Matthew stood there. "Matthew. What are you doing here?"

"Well, I seem to be missing a prisoner. One that could probably do with a last round of questioning. We need to push a little bit more about her… relationships" Matthew sneered as he pushed his way into the room two soldiers following in behind him.

"Now wait just a minute. Jacob told you she won't be returning until tomorrow at the earliest." Harry commanded as he moved quickly stepping in front of Matthew stopping him from getting any further. "You can't move her, you're not allowed, and you have no authority here."

"Ahhh, it seems maybe I was misinformed then? I mean. You have the authority to release her now. I'm sure she is stable enough; she looks fine to me." Matthew stated as he folded his arms glancing over Harrys shoulder at the girl, he had pushed too hard with questioning the night before.

Scoffing Harry shook his head as he frowned clearly not impressed, "Matthew, you should stand down. I'm not authorising anything. The girl stays here for one more night. I'd quit whilst you're ahead. You almost killed someone for your prized information."

"Well I clearly didn't, look she is fine." Matthew spat as he waved his hand over to the girl on the bed, who had by now realised his voice and his presence. Nodding to his soldiers they edged forward only to be shut down by Harry once more with a stern look in his eye.

Iris never imagined hearing his voice again, it sent shivers down her spine as the voice reminded her of what happened. The questioning, the drug that had been a whole new level of pain. The fact she had revealed how she loved Caspain and she didn't want to delve into that more, she didn't want them to know about their feelings because it could get him into trouble. Curling up into a foetal position she closed her eyes trying to will it away, to stop her thoughts and black out his voice because it did strike fear in her.

"Leave. That's an order, or shall we add another strike to your record with disobeying yet another order from someone higher up than you." Harry kept his voice calm, but it was clear his tone carried some weight because Matthew hesitated before huffing over not getting his own way.

"Whatever I'll collect her first thing and we can resume my orders in the prison." Matthew stated shooting a gaze full of hatred towards the girl on the bed, he would be back. First thing in the morning to return her to the prison where he felt she belonged.

[Assistant]
As soon as Caspian was back inside the sanctuary of his bedroom, he gave Jay a call to let him know that he'd gotten the master key they needed. He had to keep his voice down low to make sure no one outside the room overheard him, but phoning his friend was safer than sending a text. He couldn't leave any trails whatsoever that he was involved in breaking Iris out of the hospital, and he knew that even deleted messages could be recovered with the security team's advanced software. By contrast, no one would know what they were talking about during a call unless they happened to be recorded while they were speaking.

Not long after he hung up the phone, a maid stopped by to bring him his dinner, as was becoming the new norm for him while he was avoiding his father. Atlas hadn't tried to seek him out since the appointment with Dr. Foster, but he didn't want to risk running into the king in the kitchen. He still didn't know what to say or do around him when tensions were still running high, so it was easier to become a temporary recluse for now and put off the inevitable conversation and/or argument they needed to have for later.

For the rest of the evening, he stayed put in his room, passing the time by absentmindedly scrolling through social media pages and skimming any articles or blogs that came up that looked interesting to him. Every hour or so, he took a few minutes to exercise his right hand, which was steadily regaining mobility as the Accuparacin mended his broken wrist and reduced the swelling. However, in the back of his mind, he never stopped thinking about the operation. He was restless with anticipation as the time to leave grew nearer, mentally reviewing the plan to make sure that he didn't mess anything up when they got to the hospital. They were only going to have one shot to save Iris from being killed and prevent both of his friends from being arrested for trying to aid a criminal. The stakes had never been higher.

As the clock neared eight, he got up from his bed and went into his closet to change clothes. Since he'd been home for most of the day, he'd been dressed casually in sweats, but he needed to look like he was planning to spend the night out. He put on a polo and black jeans just as a maid came to the door to tell him that his friends had arrived to pick him up. "I'll be out in a second," he called to her as he pulled the top down over his torso. Earlier that day, he'd fed the staff and guards the lie that he was going to a bar with Jay and Miles. They had bought it, and since his pain level had improved greatly from the morning to the afternoon, they hadn't tried to discourage him from going out.

Once he was dressed again and had put on a pair of shoes, he headed downstairs and out the front door, where his two friends were waiting in Jay's sleek, black Oracle Gen II. At the sight of the luxury car, Cas had to bite back a smirk. He was glad that the car-enthusiast had finally bought himself a model that he'd wanted for a long time, but he was certain that the flashy car had another purpose too.

"Get in, stranger; we're going clubbing!" Miles called, popping his head out the passenger-side window and grinning at him eagerly. Even from a distance, the prince could hear the heavy thump of the subwoofers as Jay turned up the music inside the vehicle. He rolled his eyes amusedly and climbed into the back, ducking down carefully and leaning his weight on his right foot to avoid straining his injured leg with the motion. As soon as he closed the butterfly door behind him, Jay peeled out of the courtyard and drove for the highway.

"Sweet ride," Cas commented, raising his voice to a yell to be heard over the blaring music. Despite the seriousness of their reason for meeting that night, he couldn't help the grin that had taken over his lips. For a moment, it almost felt like just another night out, as if they were really going to a club to drink and dance and lose their senses like they used to before he'd been taken by the Scourge.

"Thanks!" Jay called back. "I figured we could take the sexiest car I own, so everyone knows we're at the club tonight."

Cas nodded, having already guessed his friend's idea. It was all for their alibi. They were going to make a noticeable entrance at one of the hottest bars near the center of the capital and park in a spot that was visible from the security cameras in the area. After going inside and spending about a half hour or so making sure plenty of people knew they were there, they would slip out the back and take Miles' car—which had already been parked in the alley behind the club—to the hospital. Later during the night, they would go back to the club and "leave" together in Jay's car, thus making it seem like they had been there the whole night.

"Did you bring the extra clothes?" he asked loudly. Another part of their plan was that they were going to change shirts and put on baseball caps to hide their faces from the cameras at the hospital, so it would be hard for anyone to recognize them.

"They're in a duffle bag in my car," Miles yelled back, flashing him a thumbs-up.

"Perfect," Cas's grin broadened. "Let's go clubbing."

[User]
Harry rolled his eyes at the way Matthew reacted, coming in like he owned the place and demanding for the prisoner. Watching as he left with the soldiers trailing behind him, he sat himself down back in the chair grumbling under his voice clearly irritated by the man. Harry had never liked him, not from their first ever meeting and to now. As much as prisoners were sentenced for a reason, he felt the way that Matthew revealed in the abuse of his victims weren't right, he hated how he seemed to enjoy it. There was something wrong with Matthew and Harry had decided he would talk to Jacob about it later, right now he would just have to get over it not that there was anything for him to get over.

I'm going to die here; it's not going to be a quick death. They'll make me suffer. Iris couldn't help as her thoughts turned to the more sinister side of things, especially after that meeting with Matthew just then. Of course, it struck fear in her to know that potentially she was going back to the prison, but then she hated being out of control and right now everything was out of her control. Everything was being decided for her and the thought of going through more questioning unsettled her.

Without noticing her hand gripped at the clothing around her stomach, pained by the thought of going through that again. Shuddering as flashes of her dreams entered her thoughts, she shook her head to herself pushing them down, her hair was somewhat matted and made her feel less human by the day especially when it came to things like personal hygiene. A part of her was glad she had taken the chance to use the shower when she had, who knew when she would get the chance to clean. Though it doesn't really matter does it? Who cares when reality is my death is right around that corner? Mulling over her thoughts as she tried to relax, she grimaced knowing she should put more faith in Caspain, he said he would help. I have to believe that, he could find a way for my freedom. I have to believe he can, I have to trust him like he did me back in the districts.

It gave her a brief flicker of hope the idea that Caspain would rescue her, but the darker thoughts consistently pushed back. It was like she was at war with herself because as much as she wanted to believe he could save her, there was a part of her that had welcomed death like it was some old friend. No, stop that. It was just a nightmare. I'm sure he loves me… he said so. Unless that was just something he said in the heat of the moment? Maybe he doesn't, maybe he's relieved that he will be rid of me? Feeling a pang in her heart at the idea of that she knew she was working herself up, she was overthinking everything but that's all she had time to do right now was think. It had become so natural to self-doubt, to worry over the tiny things and work herself up when reality was none of it could be true. Though the tiny part in the back of her brain liked to remind her that actually, it could be and that she wasn't being dramatic for preparing herself for the worst. No, Cas does love me, he will find a way.


[System]
Age: 23

Gender: Female

Race: Soulcaster (Human/'Demon' hybrid)

Weapons:
Devil Heart Stone
The main weapon of a Soulcaster, the Devil Heart Stone allows the bearer to leech spiritual energy from their surroundings and use it to form an astral bow, casting arrows which can cut through almost any material. The stone is implanted inside the bearer's wrist and over time grows within them until finally they must choose whether to give themselves over to the demon or have their arm removed, forever losing their powers.
Spirit Arrows
The arrows can be fired in rapid succession, with several hundred launched a minute, but in this form do no more damage than a pinprick. Alternatively the bow can be charged up, allowing the spiritual energy to grow inside it until finally being released as a single dense bolt capable of killing even the strongest of targets with a single shot, but expending all the energy which has been stored in the bearer, leaving them weak and exhausted.
Spirit Render Blade
A secondary weapon, the Spirit Render Blade is a silver sword hilt which can project a Devil Heart Stone bearer's energy in the form of an astral blade. While this blade causes no physical damage when it strikes it has the ability to steal spiritual energy from its target, drawing it out so that the Soulcaster may capture it for use in their arrow attacks.

Soul Trap Crystals
A support artefact, the Soul Trap Crystal is used in conjunction with the Spirit Render Sword to capture a being's life energies and contain them within the crystal to be used as a source of spirit energy for the Soulcaster. A soul captured in this way gradually weakens over time until it is either released by the Soulcaster by shattering the crystal with their Spirit Render Sword or when the soul becomes too weak and fades from existence.
Magic:
Soul Fire Burst
A Soulcaster may create an explosive trap for an opponent by combining at least three Soul Trap Crystals of equal strength equidistant from each other before firing Spirit Arrows to strike them simultaneously. If successful the power from the Soul Trap Crystals in concentrated into the area between them focusing their full power against anyone caught within the perimeter. The smaller the area covered the more devastating the strike, but the more difficult the shot, and if the area is too large then the shot may also prove too difficult and the power too weak to affect the intended targets. If unsuccessful, due to mistiming of the arrows or an imbalance in the power levels or misplacement of the crystals, then the energy instead is released without focus, spreading in all directions without focus.
Abilities:
Spirit Leech
A Soulcaster's Devil Heart Stone constantly drains spiritual energy from their surroundings, storing it within the Soulcaster's body until it is released. This effect is usually so passive that the energy drained is negligible and unnoticed to those around the Soulcaster and takes several days to fully charge the Soulcaster with power, but the rate can be increased through the use of the Soulcaster's Spirit Render Blade or through deep meditation in an area rich with spiritual energy, such as woodlands and parks rich with life.

When a Soulcaster is fully charged their body may begin to suffer damage from the stored energies, forcing them to find ways to bleed off the energy safely. This is normally achieved through a ritual where the Soulcaster fully charges their Devil Heart Bow and fires arrows into the air until their store is empty, allowing the safe release of the power as well as increasing the Soulcaster's proficiency with their weapon.

When leeching energy the Devil Heart Stone grows inside the Soulcaster's arm, and accelerating the flow can cause the stone to also grow faster, hastening the day when the Soulcaster must choose to either sacrifice their arm or their soul to the demon inside.

Arrow Flight
By charging their Devil Heart Bow and catching the arrow in the instant it leaves their grip a Soulcaster can launch themselves through the air, flying for as long as the power of their arrow lasts. This ability allows the Soulcaster to travel very rapidly, although at the cost of their stored energy and only as far as their bow range reaches. Due to the draining cost of this ability most Soulcasters prefer to walk whenever possible, saving their Arrow Flight only for those occasions where speed is desperately required.
Personality:While Mayumi appears to be a fun-loving and vivacious young woman, always ready for fun and enjoying wild parties in reality she's a deeply sombre person, resigned to the fact that her powers are a death sentence guaranteeing her an early end. She keeps her fears well bottled up, choosing instead to embrace life, enjoying every precious second she has.
Allegiance: Chaotic Good

History:Born and raised as part of the hidden tribe of Soulcasters Mayumi always knew that one day she would be chosen to become one of the sacred bearers of what is both the blessing and the curse of the tribe, the Demon Heart Stones. The stones weren't truly demonic in nature, merely called such due to the effect they had on their bearers.

Said to have been gifts from the Gods in the ancient times the stones had fallen on the tribe's village in a time of great need, granting their bearers the power they needed to fight back against their enemies, but taking a heavy price ion return. For all who wielded their power eventually succumbed to the madness and woe the stones brought, and turned against their fellow tribesmen with a demonic rage and unrelenting fury. The only choice for the tribe was to strike the creatures who had been their guardians down, ending their lives before they destroyed everything they'd once held dear.

Mere days after her 21st birthday Mayumi was called out on a dark hunt, tasked along with the other candidates from the tribe to track down the latest guardian to be struck with the demon sickness, and to end them before they became a threat. Although the hunt went badly, with only Mayumi returning to the village, she succeeded in her quest, having defeated the monster who had once been guardian and taking the cursed stone into herself, keeping it away from all others as she bore the burden for another generation. her only choice to use the power she holds within her to do as much good as she can before the madness strikes her down, forcing her to pass her burden onto another.

[User]
Without pausing Mayumi's hand raised her sword in front of her, the astral blade igniting as she swung it up to spear through the wolf's head.

Quickly the archer reached down to her belt and pulled one of the emptier soul trap crystal up, slamming it into the sword hilt as she concentrated on drawing the spirit from the ragged beast trying to attack her.

[Assistant]
Mayumi's sword was blocked by the wolf head's shield. At this point after two of Scylla's wolf heads had been killed she let out a cry. "You idiots! You were supposed to be eaten not fight back!" Scylla screamed. At this point the two wolf heads that were left started to fire beams of demonic energy at everyone near them. A shield that was protecting Scylla started to weaken at this point and it looked to be visible. Scylla herself had some demonic energy coming out of her hand's now in the form of what looked to be blades. Scylla lunged straight at Mayumi aiming to stab at her.

Feon meanwhile was still in a rage, She dodged some of the lasers that were coming at her, however she got knicked by a few of them. Once she got close enough to a wolf head she stabbed it in the eye again, causing the laser to go even wilder.
(Mayumi needs to get hit at some point)

[User] Quickly bringing her blade around Mayumi blocked Scylla's attack, confused as to why the creature would be so adamantly attacking her above all the others. Leaping back to what she hoped was a safe distance Mayumi summoned her Devil Heart Bow and quickly fired a volley of low-powered shots in Scylla's direction, hoping to buy herself a little time to figure out what was happening.

[Assistant] Diego swooped over and looked through some of Delios' remains. Finally he found the sword and did his best to defend himself.

[User] As the lasers were going everywhere, Karasuma started to panic. She didn't know what to do and was already injured from the wolf bite earlier. Still she had to keep going so she could rest in peace. Oh, it would be so much easier if she just took off her necklace and not be able to feel anything. But then she wouldn't be able to help everyone else out either. What could she do but keep attacking? As the lasers hit her everywhere, she ignored the pain and slashed one of the wolf's head that seemed to be exploding laser beams everywhere. The force of the lasers and her attempt at the attack threw Karasuma back hard into the floor. She forced herself back up, but felt her body feel achy and weak. 75 years of not feeling anything was starting to look more favorable...

[Assistant]
The arrow from Mayumis bow hit Scylla square in the chest. Scylla looked a bit suprised before she fell over as a small lifeless body of child. It it weren't for her being terrifying it would almost be sad. However a high pitched screech could be heard from another room. Lilith came in letting out a banshee scream that would make anyone cover their ears. "Not again! No more!" She yelled. Then without another word the entire room seemed to change to that of a hellish landscape. Large serphents came out of the ground and tried to attack them. One went straight for Mayumi was about to eat her, however it turned out that this creature was just an illusion.
(there mayumi was sort of eaten)

Feon took a deep breath and got her daggers ready. Lilith had what seemed to be floating swords around her, many of them aimed at the heroes as they would attempt to fire at each of them.

[User]
Artholath climed halfway down the stairs, seeing the chaos ensue and stopping cold when he saw Scylla fall, dead.

This won't end well at all...

He quickly climbed back up the stairs, frantically scanning rooms for an old device that his master once used. He could only hope it wasn't destroyed the first time...

[Assistant]
For a moment Mayumi was shocked at the effectiveness of her diversionary attack. She hadn't expected to even hit the demon child, let alone kill her! The moment quickly passed though as a howling banshee swooped in from the next room, screaming in despair at the invaders. Bringing her bow around and readying an arrow to fire at the woman Mayumi was caught completely unprepared as an overgrown ophidian leapt up out of the ground straight at her.

Mayumi tried to dodge back away from the beast but the monstrosity was too fast for her, its fangs sinking into her neck and coils wrapping themselves around the archer's body, dragging her down onto the floor. At first Mayumi tried to struggle against the snake's tight embrace, her hands wriggling against the smooth scales as she tried to reach for her blade, but then she realised there was no pain. Fear rushed through her at the thought of some paralysing agent already at work in her blood, numbing her senses, but as she twisted her head from side to side Mayumi could feel the fabric of her cloak rubbing against her skin. Unless the paralysing agent was very specific then it was unlikely she'd been poisoned.

Closing her eyes Mayumi drew in a breath and concentrated her mind, letting her brain take command over the senses which were being fooled by the sorcery. After a second Mayumi sat upright, and reaching out called her bow back to her hand. Around her the phantasmagorical serpent's coils simply faded away as the illusion was defeated, and Mayumi wasted no time rising back up onto her feet, gazing around quickly to check on her companions' state.

[User]
Diego grasped his makeshift sword and followed Artholath, assuming that he was leading him towards some sort of escape route.

Bakka needed an enemy. He chose one. Soon, the bees were flying straight towards Mayumi.

[Assistant]
One of them was down; the little girl has been killed by Mayumi's shot. But that still left Lilith, who did not seem very happy about it. Karasuma, doing her best to ignore the pain, staggered to stay on her feet. After this all has ended, she will finally rest in peace.

The scenery changed dramatically , as if they were transported to another world. Floating swords charged themselves at her; and Karasuma struggled to push them back with her sword-arms.

[User]
Artholath powered the main rune, opening up a vast, empty looking chamber.

However, it began to quickly fill with energy that sucked several surrounding objects in, creating a large mix of noise. Staring into the newly activated portal, Artholath could only see a black hole with the faintest of shapes on the edges. It brought the faintest hints of a completely unfamiliar emotion to hm - fear. Would he be sucked in, and destroyed forever? Lost in the cosmos, as his creator had called it? Brought to a place where he would be lunch and dinner?

All those possibilities, and then he remembered what was in store for him here. Death. The capture of his soul. Its abuse until his energies would either destroy his host or when he was banished into the mountain.

As small rocks began to fall from the ceiling, he knew he had to make a choice of some sort.

After a moment of consideration, he lept into the portal, vanishing into its murky depths.

---

It had made what would feel like an earthquake in the entire lab. However, it began to weaken, the energies losing their grasp and the chaotic lab stabilizing. Only one more person could enter… but would he?

[Assistant]
Diego, was torn. At first, the choice was clear. He wouldn't enter the portal. It was too risky. But then, glimpsing outside at the chaos, he realized that it was far more risky to stay. Quickly, Diego jumped into the portal.

The bees landed on Mayumi. They tried to sting and injure her. Some even tried to lift her off the ground.

[User]
Feon still missing an arm lunged at Lilith dodging the attacks the swords but getting knicked at the same time as she was still getting hurt by them. "I've had enough of this." Feon said as electricity came from her body. She looked like a ball of electricity as she jumped into the air at Lilith. Without another word Lilith was shocked in the air immobilizing her for a moment. Feon lunged her daggers into Lilith's stomach. She coughed out blood then fell to the ground. Lilith was dead after being stabbed in multiple places. A few moment's later she seemed to explode. The battle was over and the heroes wishes would be granted now.

The credits then began to role and after the credits the heroes were approached by nick fury who wanted them all to join the avengers.

The End

[Assistant] Bakka, sad that he didn't get to make his epic comeback, left as the credits began, shaking his head in disappointment.

[User] "I'm sorry," Mayumi said to the white/black man with the eyepatch, "But I let a man talk me into wearing a purple leather outfit once before and after an... 'interesting' night I ended up not being able to walk straight for several days. I'm afraid I'll have to decline your offer."


[System]
Age: Appears about 30 or so.
Appearance:

Bio: Dharichar draws his unholy powers from the depths of the underworld, giving him strange magics. He lives to spread corruption and chaos, and drag others down to the underworld. The purer, the better.
Powers: Pyromancy. Carnomancy. Necromancy. Power to summon lesser demons. Power to make a Devils Deal. (One wish, in exchange for one soul.)
Weaknesses:Holy magics, paladins.

[User] Cesidia smiles. This is incredible. Being a demon isn't that bad, huh?

[Assistant] "Aside from everyone trying to do you in, yeah."

[User] Cesidia chuckles. "People always after you, huh? That would be nothing new for me."

[Assistant] He begins calling up some of his fiery magic, enjoying the heat racing though his veins.

[User] Cesidia smiles at the heat.

[Assistant] He takes flight, orbiting around her head.

[User] Cesidia smiles and laughs softly as she watches him and she flies on her own.

[Assistant] He begins gently looping in the air. "Flying's one of the few things that brings me any measure of joy."

[User] Cesidia smiles and flies around. "I can see why."

[Assistant] He lands next to her body, which hasn't moved from her position, and she can see a mark hovering around her body, in a deeply complex language.

[User] Cesidia opens her eyes and her mouth moves as she reads the mark, mouthing the translation.

[Assistant] It seems to be a very long list, all but unpronounceable. "Yeah, don't try reading that. It's the fine print from my bargain. That's just a small part of the Deal."

[User] Cesidia recites the translation awkwardly but almost perfectly. "Interesting fine print."

[Assistant] "Yep. As I said, a Demon Deal is very strange and powerful."

[User] "How long does this last?"

[Assistant] "The Deal lasts until the terms are met, or until you die. The latter one is far more likely. This Mind Meld lasts until I release you from it."

[User] Cesidia nods. "Okay. Shouldn't we be going after the king?"

[Assistant] "Yes. Still need to find out where he is, and to retrieve some ranged weapon."

[User] Cesidia nods. "And when are we starting this mission?"

[Assistant] He lands beside her body, and lightly taps her head to send her mind back. "Now."

[User] Cesidia blinks and her eyes refocus. She gets up on unsteady feet and nods. "Good."

[Assistant] He spreads his wings, stretching them.

[User] Cesidia stumbles and straightens, shaking out her limbs.

[Assistant] He nods. "Yeah, it takes a bit before you get reoriented."

[User] "Thank you for the warning," Cesidia rolls her eyes.

[Assistant] He shrugs, his tail whipping about.

[User] Cesidia sighs with a frown. "So how are we going to find him?"

[Assistant] "I could summon a few scouts, but I doubt you'd approve."

[User] Cesidia raises an eyebrow and she hides her smile. "You care what I think?" She shrugs. "No matter, if it will speed this painfully long mission up, then so be it."

[Assistant] He shrugs. "You'd complain about it if I didn't mention it."

[User] Cesidia raises an eyebrow. "Wow, you really don't know me. Go ahead and do your thing."

[Assistant] He chuckles. "Yeah, about that. I'll need some blood to work the spell."

[User] Cesidia rolls her eyes. "How much?" She picks up a sharp rock and slices her hand open.

[Assistant] He twists his hand, and the blood is drawn from her hand.....and keeps going. She feels weaker every second. "Oh, just nearly enough to kill you. That's all."

[User] "No. No! You said I'd kill him! You thieving bastard!" Cesidia growls and struggles to keep standing.

[Assistant] He smiles, and stops pulling on her blood, just before she loses conciseness. "You noticed?"

[User] "Of course I noticed, you damn jerk!" Cesidia stumbles and collapses. "Did you even need my blood?"

[Assistant] "Yes." He wraps it around his hand. "You've never been with anyone, have you?"

[User] Cesidia blushes and crosses her arms. "I don't see what that's got to do with anything."

[Assistant] "Because that means that the blood will be that much more effective."

[User] Cesidia frowns, blushing. "If I uh... slept with someone?"

[Assistant] "However you want to phrase it, but yes."

[User] Cesidia blushes even deeper. "Unfortunately for you, I've never had the chance."

[Assistant] He shrugs. "In that case, it's much more useful, but for other spells."

[User] Cesidia crosses her arms, blushing deeply. "Could we talk about something else now? Like why you need blood?"

[Assistant] "Because you need blood to use blood magic."

[User] Cesidia sighs. "Okay, let me rephrase. Why you said I wouldn't approve of this spell."

[Assistant] The blood forms into a small pentagram over his hand, and begins glowing. "I'm summoning more demons."

[User] Cesidia raises en eyebrow. "You can do that?"

[Assistant] "Yes. Of course, I can only summon small ones. Imps and the like."

[User] Cesidia looks around for small demons. "So they're going to be scouts?"

[Assistant] A tiny rift forms over the circle on his hand, and a few tiny, black, winged demons fly out, and dart after her.

[User] Cesidia watches them in curiosity, even as they go after her.

[Assistant] They land on her, and chatter incoherently, sniffing her.

[User] Cesidia sits patiently as they sniff her. "Do they do this to every human?"

[Assistant] "No. Normally, they just eat humans. They can smell my mark on you."

[User] Cesidia blushes faintly and clears her throat. "The Deal's mark?"

[Assistant] "Yep. Look at your hand." He snaps, and a tight arcane ring spirals out behind him, the same one appearing on her hand like a tattoo, though much smaller.

[User] Cesidia looks at her hand, her blush ebbing away.

[Assistant] He chuckles. "Among other things, of course." He licks his lips without realizing it.

[User] "Other things?" Cesidia blushes when she looks up to see him licking his lips.

[Assistant] He shrugs, his wings making the moment somewhat awkward. "It can....change, depending on how you feel about me, and the Underworld in general."

[User] Cesidia blushes faintly and looks at her hand. "Has it changed?" She looks behind herself. "And what are you looking at that's so delicious?"

[Assistant] He smiles, his teeth hidden. "I have a feeling you know. You just want me to say it."

[User] Cesidia crosses her arms and looks him in the eye. "I do want you to say it because no I don't know the answer."

[Assistant] He chuckles. "You, of course." His eyes glow strangely, more white then their normal, fiery red.

[User] Cesidia blushes and gasps softly. "I- I thought you didn't like mortals like that."

[Assistant] He shrugs. "I never have. But you're....different. I can't put my finger on it."

[User] Cesidia huffs softly with a soft smile. "I suppose this is a first for both of us then. I can't exactly say I've fallen for someone like you before if I am to be honest. Hmm..." she sighs. "If you were to make me a demon, would that be an alternative to collecting my soul on your end of the bargain?"

[Assistant] He shrugs. "I'm....not sure. Devils don't have souls of our own."

[User] Cesidia frowns then sighs. "Do you control your terms? What you get out of the deal, or is it specifically for souls?"

[Assistant] "I could, but the more things I add, the less of a change they'll agree. 'It takes two men to make a Deal. A desperate man and a winner.' That's an old saying."

[User] Cesidia smiles faintly. "It started off with me as the desperate one, but in this situation wouldn't we both be... both?"

[Assistant] He rubs his horns, thinking. "In a sense, but you agreed to it so I would help your kingdom. I offered it, because I want and need mortal souls. I can see how they would both apply to me, but I'm not seeing many ways for you to be a 'winner'. Logically anyway. But in the terms of relationship.....I don't know. Never had one with a mortal before."

[User] Cesidia blushes and sighs. "Do you know why I want to be a demon?"

[Assistant] "I'm not positive. But I might."

[User] Cesidia crosses her arms with an amused smirk. "Take a stab at it."

[Assistant] "Because I am." He flaps his wings.

[User] Cesidia smiles faintly. "Something like that. Okay well let's get those scouts out there."

[Assistant] He twists his hand into a claw, and the scouts fly off, heading for the goblin camp. He chuckles. "This is....a most unusual turn of events."

[User] Cesidia smiles softly. "Understatement. Gross understatement. I never intended to find anyone. Ever," she admits with a one-shoulder shrug.

[Assistant] "You didn't have an interest in it, or you never thought someone would fall for you?" He begins spooling out a rope of fire like a string.

[User] Cesidia shrugs. "Both. I suppose one led to the other though. I never thought someone could fall for me, not for my status or.." she blushes faintly and looks away. "I've been told I'm beautiful," she huffs. "Anyway, because i thought no one would fall for who I am, I lost interest."

[Assistant] "Or....what?" He smiles slightly. "I'm the same way. I never had any interest in mortals, because what mortal would want a devil as a companion? There are those who'd have a child with one, true, but to stay with one?"

[User] Cesidia blushes furiously when he mentions having children with a demon. She smiles softly and before she can think twice she gently kisses his cheek. "I want to stay with you," she says quietly.

[Assistant] His skin is warm, and feels strangely rough, like leather or scale. He smiles. "I think that sounds....nice." He spreads his massive wings.

[User] Cesidia smiles. "Good. I wasn't exactly going to ask for your permission, but I'm glad your on board. I'm in love, but I'm not a creep." She turns away, part of her praying he didn't catch what she'd just admitted. "When are those scouts supposed to come back?"

[Assistant] He looks at the sky, watching. "When I call for them." He smiles. "You are?"


[System]
Genre: Medieval Post Apocalypse
Age: 19
Hair: brown, hip-length, wavy, course
Eye color: brown
Height: 5'5
History: Formerly, Quill was the Duchess of Siena, betrothed for a period of almost three years to Duke Gregory. However, when her husband was found stabbed to death in their bed, Quill was charged with murder and stripped of her title. She was placed in a prison cell in the king's castle to await her execution a month before the plague struck.

[User]
Lannis Tyrel

"...and wasn't it you who said I needed peace..."

 The only survivor.

The city was full of dead men. The putrid corpses of friends and neighbors were everywhere. At first, they had attempted burials, but quickly the need overwhelmed the able, and soon they had to settle for mass funeral pyres outside the city. Eventually, as the plague continued, even that effort became unsustainable and the bodies of the dead simply lay where they fell. Lannis was just a young man, a man grown to be sure, but in so many ways a boy still. His father had died early with the illness, and his mother soon after. He had had brothers, but through grief or some other affliction, possibly the very same that had taken the others… they had been a part of the last pyre, one that he had lit himself. Now seemed nothing lived on the city but himself, and the flies.

At first, he was too frightened to leave his home. He took the first day as though it were any other since his folks passed. He woke with the sunrise, milled grain into flour for a few hours until he had worked up an appetite for breakfast. He'd told himself that there would be survivors coming today, and he would have an ample supply of flour to sell them for their bread. It had been folly, because nobody came. The next day, he ventured outside and was immediately driven back into his home by what he saw. The bodies were everywhere. They lay in the streets, against fence posts or on the stoops of buildings. Old man Holland looked as though he slept in his hayloft, pitchfork still clasped in his hands, while the famed, drunken Ser Jorn Highwall galloped around town on a frothing mare, his limp body held in place by a thick rope tied around his waist and legs.

The days came, and the days went, and nobody came. Silence greeted him in the morning, and silence sang him its deafening lullaby at night, with the buzzing of fly's wings the only break between, that or the sounds he made while out and about. A few days ago, he'd even taken to talking to himself, just to remember what it sounded like to hear a voice that wasn't inside his head. With each passing day, he grew more adventurous, less concerned with the dead. A week ago, he broke into the meat shed of the butcher, where the old man was known to hang his salted hams for storage, and seeing as how the old man was dead in his bed, he felt it was ok for him to help himself. He took a ham, a wheel of cheese he found still rolled up tightly in it's cloth, and when he returned home, milled himself some flour for bread. He borrowed books from the Church's library, though he couldn't read, he did enjoy looking at the illustrations, imaging just what it had all been about. Sometimes he pretended he could read, and made the story up as he went, but eventually, he grew bored with the practice, and left the books in a pile.

It was last night, while he lie away in his bed, under his new blanket he took out of the seamstress's shop up the road, that he thought about leaving his home. The kingdom seemed to be dead, nobody has stirred this whole while, that he could see… hell, even the castle was still and quiet.

"and if the King's dead, and all the people are dead, then by the King's law, all lands are passed down through blood or marriage to the last survivor. Though I don't know the whole of it, it must mean that now, I am king.. seeing as how someway, it has to all lead back to me, right?"

Nobody answered to tell him not, so he nodded to himself, affirmed in his own logic, and went to sleep that night dreaming of his new found status as a royal. The next morning he was up and dressed in a pair of new britches and a tunic of azure and crimson, fashioned in the way of the wealthy merchants. His boots were one he had found off a man a few streets over, good, quality boots. "Good enough for a king, eh?" He chuckled to himself, and before the house was turned, Lannis found himself sitting on his throne, legs crossed and the royal crown perched upon his dirty brown hair.

Emptiness forced him to abandon the throne room after only a few mock trials in which he found the mason's boys guilt of being prats and ordered them beheaded, and he took to exploring the castle. Sadly, though not unexpectedly, Lannis found the castle in the same condition as was the city. The dead lay as they had fallen, and inspite of his royal claims, seems that only the flies ruled here. At length, his search of the castle turned up the dungeons.

He stood at the top of a dark stairway, looking down into the deep darkness, sure to himself that nobody would be left alive down there. The darkness was deep, daunting. Something about the place seemed to make the darkness more frightening, as though by virtue of it being a dungeon, the darkness was possessed with some otherworldly abilities. The chill it gave him was nonsense, and to prove it to himself, Lannis took down the curved stairwell into the darkness.

Lannis stopped when he heard the noise, the first unnatural noise he had heard in weeks, at least, the first he hadn't made himself. Fears forgotten, concern forgotten, Lannis raced down the remainder of stairs towards the noise. It wasn't until he was halfway down a corridor lined with heavy wooden door set with iron bars, that he even though to call out. When he did, his voice was loud, excited.

"Is someone there!?" he called, looking around him, hearing his voice echo on the emptiness of the cells. This was a terrible place, cold and dark. How someone could be here, Lannis had no idea. Alone, with nothing but iron and wood. It would have driven Lannis mad. But it didn't matter to him. He could only hope that he had heard what he thought he'd heard, a survivor like himself.

"Please, are you there?" He called out again.

[Assistant]
This wasn't how it was supposed to end, thought Quill. Her head was full of a dull buzzing, and even though she'd pillowed her sunken cheek on her arm, the world spun around her again and again and again. Still, her fingers gripped the underside of the door, pulling on it over and over to make it clank, metal-to-metal, against the frame. Relentless. She'd always been relentless. The sound would be her final act. She'd leave the dead, empty world, the last human to make a sound. Clank, clank, clank.

Her eyes closed. Sleep would overcome her soon, though she fought it. She'd die in her sleep--one of the few peaceful moments of her life.

A sound snapped her out of her buzzing stupor. Quill's head lifted inches off her arm from where she was sprawled on the cold, dirty floor. It was all she could manage. Had she imagined the sound? She listened hard and heard nothing. And then--there it was again.

"Please, are you there?"

Someone was in the hallway. Her heart jolted in surprise. She'd been so sure she was the last one left and that she'd die there, locked in her cell with no way to escape. But no, she was wrong. Maybe only those in the castle had died! Maybe there was life out there still! And someone was in the dungeon, a man, and he could save her, perhaps. Maybe he'd free her. Maybe he'd take pity. Quill clanged the door harder, trying to draw him nearer. She tried to speak, but only a rasp came out, barely audible even to her own ears.

If he finds out why I'm here, he'll never help me, Quill realized. Society reviled murderers, regardless of the circumstances, and the Duke had been beloved. He'd given money to the needy, visited monasteries, and charmed the lords and ladies of the court. If whoever was down there learned who she was, he'd gladly leave her there to die.

So I'll become someone new, she decided. She'd shake off her identity, much as she'd shake off the dust and dirt covering her, and she'd be reborn as someone new.

"I'm here," she tried to call, but her mouth was so dry the words made her cough. Still, she didn't give up. "I'm alive!"

[User]
Lannis Tyrel

"...and wasn't it you who said I needed peace..."

It was her sounds, more than it was her voice, that alerted him to her presence; the heavy metallic sound of the door catching, and the rasping cough, drew him. Quickly, his eyes scanned around the room, finding pitched torches standing unused in a corner of the room, but the brazier that had been with them was out, as cold as though it had never been lit. The corridor was dark, and little to no light fell into the prison from outside sources. She was ensconced in darkness darker than night, and stepping into that gave Lannis a chill as though the touch of the dead had brushed the back of his neck.

"I hear you, I'm coming," He spoke, without thought of who this person was, or why they had been put into this place in the first place. His excitement at finding someone alive overrode all other sense of self preservation and caution. He simply didn't think whomever it was would actually attempt to hurt him. The trouble was, he couldn't see. The sounds told him that the door was locked, and Lannis didn't have a set of jailer's keys, or know where to look for one.

"Keeper rattling the door," He spoke, wanting to use the sound as a guide, while his eyes groped the darkness immediately around him, in search of either a source of light, or a set of keys, or anything useful. A few steps and his foot kicked up against a hard wooden surface, and his groping hands gave the impression of a flat topped desk or table of some sort. He felt parchments, the feel of melted wax long dried. His fingers stained as he knocked over an ink well, but he gave it all no mind, failing to feel anything metallic that could be used to strike to light one of the torches, or anything he could use for the door.

"Do you know where the keys are… or where the jailer lives? Perhaps he has them on him?" Lannis was thinking aloud now, unsure if the prisoner could even hear him, unsure if they could even talk, and in truth, he doubted the reality of their existence. Perhaps the whole thing was his mind's trick on him, like the way he thought he saw old man Potter blink before he took that silver crown out from beneath the set of towels on the counter a few days ago. He didn't know if the money would be useful anymore, but he figured he'd have more use of it than the old man.

[Assistant]
Quill wedged her fingers beneath the bars of the door, grasping for freedom she couldn't reach. It was so close now... She realized that the air inside her dirty cell was suffocating her, and she needed the air out in that corridor where another survivor walked, rifling through things, making sounds. She needed that cool, clean air.

He asked where the keys were and her eyes shut, squeezing, pinching closed.

"No...."

She had no idea.

"They always... There was always a guard with--" She stopped, trying to swallow and clear her throat. He needed to hear her, but her voice was so weak. "--with keys... on a ring. A large ring... They must leave it here," she reasoned. "Surely they don't take it home. Please," she pleaded. "Please find it. Get me out of here. I haven't... water...."

She lowered her cheek back down to the dirty stones, exhausted from speaking. Everything ached, yet this was her chance. Her entire life rested in the hands of the man on the other side of her cell. "Don't let me die here."