[System]
Age: 28

Sex: Female

Disposition:
Refined, elegant and graceful... most of the time. She has a great deal of bearing and poise, though is far from being a 'snob', treating everyone she meets with respect and kindness... as long as they do her the same courtesy, of course.
She has a great deal of patience, but when her temper does snap, it's quite... spectacular.
Despite her grace and poise, she has a surprisingly filthy sense of humour that tends to come out when she has had a chance to get to know people and is comfortable with them... or when she's drunk.

Background:
Alyssa was born in the UKE to a family with a long history. Not overly famous outside of certain circles - mainly business ones - they are 'old money', and have a strong industrial and property portfolio across several countries. With such a 'pedigree' (as Alyssa herself would derisively put it), she lived a life of prestigious education in exclusive schools, her life heavily organized for her and watched over with a critcial - and somewhat cold - eye.
Her parents saw her as more of an 'asset' than a child, to be used as another bargaining chip in the development of their business empire.
Subjected to the constant critical eye and with her future depressingly mapped out by her parents, Alyssa rebelled. At first, in small ways, such as dying her hair, piercing her nose and taking up 'unsuitable' hobbies (such as joining the military cadets, and her enjoyment of rock music), but eventually ending with her rejecting much of their cloying approach to her life.
As soon as she was old enough to graduate from college - and thus, to claim the substantial fund held for her until her 18th birthday - she left home, and travelled the world.

She spent time in some of the more seedy areas of the world, coming into contact with mercenaries, refugees, aid workers and more. After watching from the sidelines for months and patching wounds, helping on radios, sensor screens and radars, she found herself frustrated and wrung out from being unable to help her friends where it counted on the battlefield.
Spending more of her fortune, she trained and studed to become a FRAME pilot, learning under several different teachers and instructors. While she was no expert, she was certainly adept, and hard-working and pushed herself through, driven both by her desire to help her friends, and also to defy her old life.
While her piloting and combat skills were only average, she showed a natural aptitude and skill for the intricacies of reconnaissance, signal inteception and intelligence gathering, having a great deal of talent for manipulating data, signals, and other such information into the greater picture of a battlefield and it's many secrets.

After some years of running with a small company, they eventually fell apart, both due to casualties and internal fighting. As the company disbanded, she moved on to new opportunities. She lived well on her share of the money she'd earned and her reputation alongside it, enabling her to enjoy the luxury, upper-level goods and services she enjoyed, and to keep her aires and graces, before coming to hear of the Preying Panthers, an up-and-coming unit. Deciding it was high time she put her skills to use again, she signed up with the new unit and see what fortune brings.

Appearance:

Long-limbed and willowy, Alyssa stands at just shy of 6'00" tall. She is very slim and has little body fat, adding to her elegant and graceful appearance. Most of her civilian clothing is in contrasting light and dark colours, with crisp white being a common theme. Her voice is rich, cultured and well-spoken, with a musical laugh, and a powerful singing voice.

Inventory:

* High-end PADD, with personalised case and software loaded for signal encryption/decryption, mapping and associated recon-related tasks.
* Multi-channel radio headset with noise-cancelling headphones and mic
* Folding lock-knife
* Compact semi-automatic pistol with engraved mother-of-pearl handgrips
* Compact PDW with attached laser aiming unit
* Magnifying digital binoculars
* Pilots' suit and associated load-carrying harnesses
* Pilots' helmet with personal design painted on
* Usually has a folding mirror, makeup kit, and hairbrush on her at all times too

[User]
"And there may not be a future for the panthers if this job isn't taken. It may be too good to be true, but it's also too good to pass up. If there's one thing you learn in the military, it's how to adapt to the situation. And so, that's what we must do here."

Sabrina understood the reason the girl spoke up, but her usual military experience made her check her in her mind. Back in the military, speaking up without permission was grounds for extra PT, depending on if you were wasting your team leader's time with whatever you wanted to say. Still, she had to remind herself that this was a PMC and they conducted themselves differently. She didn't want to come off as high and mighty, but she still conducted herself as if she was still a soldier. For now, she hoped the others would understand the situation a little better. She stood at parade rest and looked to the Director.

"Sir?"

[Assistant]
"Fuck that!" The shrill of Kat's voice startled everyone in the room, not least of all Cecilia, who's face immediately twisted into a cherry-colored knot.

 "It will become all 'yes sir, no sir!' And we will be fighting some fat asshole politician's personal feuds for him in no time! I signed up to the Panthers! Not the friggin' military!"

 "If you don't LIKE it, you don't have to STAY!" Cecilia snarled. Richard gave Colonel Leung an uneasy tilt of his eyebrows, mouthing "I'm sorry." The officer, clearly dumbfounded by the sudden hostile environment, nodded and shifted his gaze anywhere but forward.

 "I've had it with this display of yours since Cradle," the adjutant continued. "I thought you could take care of yourself, but after today's stunt in the slums, I've half a mind to terminate your contract right here and now! What's the matter with you?! You'd better cut the bullshit and start acting like the Panther you so want to be; I have no problem with replacing you with someone who can handle the work, because evidently, you CAN'T."

 No sooner had the words left Cecilia's mouth than she'd realized the gravity of what she'd just said. She took a step back from the table, eyes shifting uncomfortably away from contact with the other Panthers until they settled to the floor.

 "Oh gods," she muttered in a barely-audible whisper. "Kat, I'm so sorry..."

 Cecilia took a deep breath, turning to the XCD Colonel. "<Colonel; you have my most sincere apologies. I'm sorry you had to see us this way,>" she said in fluent Xiangese. "<As field commander of the Preying Panthers, I appreciate the generosity of the XCD in this endeavor.>"

 Lang's body tingled with embarrassment. Her fury might've been just as unprofessional and misplaced as Kat's, and in front of a representative of her country, even... that's not how she wanted the Panthers to be seen.

 "<Think nothing of it, Ms. Lang,>" Colonel Leung responded. "<Every unit has its quirks. I, for one, am impressed with your record; having disciplined these laowai all these years. Allow me to be the first to welcome you home.>"

 Cecilia stammered, deciding on a polite bow instead of an audible thanks. When she returned to full height, her eyes met Richard's, which were none too happy, but neither were they accusatory.

 "Now, then. Any further constructive discussion?" Bentz asked, doing his best to reset the mood.

[User]
Kat stared daggers at Sabrina before rolling her eyes in exaggeration. She was just about to spitefully mock the girl when Cecilia interjected with her own sharp harsh reply. Caught off guard Kat just stood there dumbfounded in disbelief. Her face was strewn with shock, but her eyes, in her eyes shone the hurt.

"So it's like that hey?" She stammered, ignoring the apologies. Her voice quite as she struggled to argue, let alone push the words from her lungs.

After a short silence to process Kat spoke again.
"You know I actually once believed that the panthers stood for something more then just money. Clearly I was wrong!" Disappointment dripped from each stern word.

Her eyes trailed the room, she didn't know where to look. Everyone else was eating this up. Everyone else was giving her that disapproving glare.

With a bit of a forced manic laugh she continues.

"Well were all gonna die someday anyway right, might as well be fodder for this asshat's people or plan." Her sudden enthusiasm was oozing with sarcasm.
Kat gestured to the guest while speaking before swiping up her few possessions from the table and flicking her hair over her shoulder, stormed towards the near exit.

"Go out nameless and without reason, for people who couldn't give a shit, can't think of a better way! but hey, at least we can die in a shiny can."

It was directed at no one but loud enough for everyone. Her disgruntle thoughts shared with the room.

She stopped at the doorway to glare at Cecilia, raising her hand to her head in a mockery salute. "Jus as long as we get the pay-check on the way, right? Ma'm!"
She punches out the words in a sharp military style yell before huffing out a cynical laugh and disappearing behind the door.

------

Outside the room and out of sight Kat's lungs are suddenly filled with a big wave of shaky air as she tilts her head up to fight off the tears welling in her eyes. She lets out that breath as she wipes her forearm across her face and storms off in the direction of the Hanger.

[Assistant]
As was typical of her decisions. She took the option of being led by her team mate. It must have been quite the sight actually, it was kind of testament to the cooperation that the team had. Caffeine was probably a much lighter term then most would use, crystal meth, would probably be more descriptive of her behavior. Sarah had been dancing in excitement since she had stormed into the room. XCD...AWESOME! She was more than excited to work with the people that had turned Cecilia into what she was. It might actually help her out with....Problems. Marlene as usual, was a god damned angel. There was multiple times that she had saved her ass without her even realizing it. When Marlene strolled into the room a massive grin was on her face. Quite tweeked as usual, her soul seeming to itch for the news. Why would a Colonel be here if it wasn't for something big! She was just about to voice an ecstatic desperate approval before she heard the most outstanding Fuck you she'd ever heard. If it weren't for the fact even she recognised that she would be an asshole for stating it; she would. "As long as you repair Mr. Bubbles I'll do whatever you please", she brimmed. Her eyes looking like they were defocusing. The shade of red turning to a soft blue as she switched to a different 'sight' mode. "I am totally in for it, it will be fun right? Better missions? Beefy targets? Soft targets?....", she said the last one with a bit of a higher inflection. Sarah was quite sadistic when it came to ethically right missions. Those drug traffickers? Now that was fun to watch, at least until her visuals were destroyed.

She was well used to the idea of disavowed ops, betrayals and generally being used as a means for an ends. So the suspicions that were about the Panthers were more of a homely feeling to her. She gave a bright grin that made the fractal patterns that graced her cheeks sparkle softly. "Colonel Guoliang, might I ask if we will be operating in less than legal parameters? I know it's a bit of a cheeky question, It's just nice to know how much red tape we have to dance around, rules of engagement are awful fun.", she winked. Even as she tried to make the mood that little bit more facetious she attempted to send a pulse to Kat. A soft worded message she used her internals to send, Sarah was indeed an awfully manipulative person. However it could not be said that she used it to harm, or even try and achieve an ends.

 -Kathrine. How about you look at it from a different frame of mind? I know what was said hurt, but you have to remember that Cecilia's number one priority has been the safety and wellbeing of us. She might just feel like she has failed in that endeavour, don't take what she said personally. We've all been stressed... LONG LIVE THE CHAIRMAN, LONG LIVE THE UNION!-

With a soft giggle she lay back into an empty chair on the bridge. "Besides, I might just find out who made these...", she said blinking the light shielding of her eyes into place and back for effect. "I dunno, but if we are being democratic with this, my vote is a fifty fifty split, Marlene has half, Richard the other, I just enjoy the ride along after all, It's not like anything else interesting is happening recently, Then again I'm just hedging bets. Mr. B will enjoy being all shiny and new, Hence Richard, Marlene won't let us die in Agonizing pain. It's all good", she flicked her hair around. As usual her contribution was less than strategic, but it reaffirmed her point of view, it was completely irrelevant who they were fighting and who for, just so long as everyone was fighting with her she couldn't care much less, which was yet another major malfunction of the young osbanian. As usual however, Sabrina stood out as a voice of reason. She wasn't much good at that. So she trusted the others to make the decision.

[User]
Alyssa had stood quietly away from the main group as they'd gathered around on the bridge. She'd missed out on the last mission due to a last-minute issue with the FRAME preventing her from launching; yet another symptom of the difficulties the panthers were facing, in her opinion. The left knee actuator on her machine had finally shaken itself apart, after being rebuilt so many times and barely hanging on by a thread each time.
As the purple-haired pilot listened, she tilted her head attentively as the offer was explained. The lure of full mechanical support and the other perks were good, but she'd heard of other units working with the military incurring massive expenses and ending up indentured to military forces or nations, and becoming all but military units in name as a result. The possibility made her uncomfortable, but before she could voice her concerns, the altercation broke out between Kat and Cecilia.
"Oh goodness," she said softly, covering her mouth with one hand before Bentz thankfully broke the uncomfortable tension, and the conversation continued. Seeing her own moment, the recon pilot spoke up from her position near the back of the room.
"Well, to add my own words to the discussion, I'd have to say that I have some reservations of my own, but I think that the benefits are too great to ignore in our current situation. We need the supplies and support, I think".


[System]
Gender: Female

Age: 21

Career/Class: Courtesan/Duelist

Physical Description: Camilla is a medium sized woman around 5'5. She possess the slightly bronzed skin, angular features and dark hair common among Tileans. She has the smooth clean lines of a classical statue and the lean musculature of a dancer. Every part of her seems artfully contrived, as though she stepped from the canvas of a master painter. Camilla moves with deliberate grace which is appropriate to her profession.

Mental Description/Personality: Camilla is a fiery impetuous young woman. As a child she was selected from among orphan's for her physical beauty and raised to fill the role of Courtesan in the decadent courts of her native Tilea. Among her studies were poetry, dance, repartee, song, politics, literature, art and sword play.

Camilla is out of place in rough and dangerous situations, and although naturally adventurous and curious about the world she is no heroine. She has a fiery temper and has a tendency to act rather than to wait if given the chance. While technically trained with the sword, Camilla's education is that of the stylized art of the sword rather than the rough and brutal style of real combat, while she is perfectly comfortable fighting a duel to the tough for the entertainment of a crowd, she had little experience with real killing.

Camilla has a passing devotion to Randald and Shyalla, although she tends to focus on the world in front of her rather than the world beyond.

[User]
Amal moved faster than most men likely thought possible, pivoting and twirling, sometimes even parallel to the ground in a vertical butterfly kick. At one point Amal leaped, rolling behind a gaggle of running goblins, the magical blast meant for him enveloping the gangly creatures. The pure force of chaos mutated some of them into masses of flesh whilst others were simply incinerated as if by one of the industrial furnaces of nuln. The light hid Amal in a brief instance, and he was already a dozen feet away, hanging by one of the spiked arches above the wall. With a subtle movement of his legs, he flipped up onto the arch, perched by the balls of his feet.

"Given up yet?" The handsome thief asked.

The sorcerer was truly getting annoyed. He had but barely given attention to the very clear divine favor given to Emmaline by one of the heathen gods of the desert. Once she was under his thralldom, he would interrogate her personally. As Amal dodged the next blast, Zar Tan Zhou realigned his next move, turning the wall Amal was about to springboard off of into some substance with the texture of melted wax. Amal landed on the floor, nearly colliding with the transmuted surface, face inches from it.

The dwarf woman gave a guttural warcry and ran at the remaining goblins, holding a broken chair leg as she screamed to her ancestor gods. Her long braided hair swayed and bounced off her stout body as she charged, braining the first goblin and breaking the legs of another, wading into a group of them who were so surprised she had suddenly turned on them. Meanwhile, Amal continued to do his best to dodge, but he was slowing, exhausted and sweat from the exertion, getting closer and closer to the sorcerer, but it was to no avail. With a laugh, Zar Tan Zhou sent one last stream of chaos energy, arcing the blast to hit a desperately leaping Amal square in the chest to engulf his body in flashing, multicolored energy. Zar Tan Zhou laughed maniacally, praising tzeentch for his victory as the smoke rushed out from the blast zone.

Amal, apparently unhurt, came with it.

The last thing the sorcerer could comprehend was Amal's smile as the dagger slid up, through the bottom of his mouth into his tainted brain. Blood suddenly began seeping from his stricken lips, and Amal waved the ring he had on his finger before the dead magician's eyes as the once proud sorcerer fell onto the ground as a lifeless corpse. Emmaline looked at Amal with wide eyes, her left hand on her mouth even as her asp staff turned another running goblin to stone.

Amal blinked and looked at her, showing her the ring. "You didn't forget I had magic immunity, right?"

"But you kept dodging..." She said, lost.

"Well it's not fun if he doesn't think he can win." The thief shrugged.

[Assistant]
Emmaline had, in point of fact, forgotten the existence of the ring, though this wasn't an artifact of her flighty nature or self centered outlook. The Ring of Shadows was, by its very nature, an item of obscucation. It's subtle magic encouraged others to forget its existence, to overlook its presence, even as it encouraged watchers to ignore its wearer. Even now it was brought to her attention, she found the fact of its existence slipping quietly from her mind. It wasn't important how Amal had survived afterall, simply that he was alive and Zhar Tan Zhou was dead. The greenskins too seemed to be sharing in their masters fate. Zwili tore into them with a fury, teeth bared with ancient racial hate. One of the goblins tried to grab her with its yellowed talons, but she twisted aside, broke its arm with a powerful blow, and then staved in its skull as it staggered back. That was enough for the rest of them. Emmaline burned one down with a bolt of golden energy, just to be seen to be contributing, and the few survivors fled squealing from the throne room, vengeful dwarf on their heels.

"Well I'm glad you were in the neighborhood," Emmaline said, catching Amal in a relieved hug. She still wasn't exactly sure where they were or how they had gotten here, but she suspected Amal would be able to fill her in.

"And I'm glad you finally decided to show up," she said to Asp, who had transformed into his snake form and was coiling around her arm.

"Better late than never," she said, somewhat censoriously. Asp lifted his head, tongue flicking as he hissed and bobbed his head in lengthy explanation.

"I can't understand you," Emmaline reminded him. The snake lifted its snot loftily, in clear indication that her lack of understanding was both not surprising and beneath his regal notice. Emmaline stuck out her tongue at the serpent, but it had already sunk back into her arm, becoming the familiar tattoo once more.

"Luckily some heroes are right on time," she grinned, bestowing on Amal a lingering kiss.

___

"So the villagers sold us out?" Emmaline asked incredulously. She took a bite of cheese and washed it down with a gulp of wine. They were sitting in the garden, enjoying a meal of pilfered supplies. Emmaline had scanned both the strange cavern and the supplies carefully with her mage sight and detected no sign of the taint of Chaos upon them. It was somewhat saddening to think that Zhar Tan Zhou had accomplished this without the aid of his patron. What great works he might have done if he hadn't been lured by blind ambition into madness. Emmaline couldn't even begin to contemplate the spells woven into this place, and her head throbbed faintly from the effort.

"And you rode here on a dragon?" she asked incredulously.

"Technically its a Wyrven because it has only wings and legs," Amal replied around a mouthful of bread.

"Ohh pedantic for a street rat," she snickered.

"Ped what?" Amal asked, reaching the limit of his Riekspiel. A sudden noise prevented further conversation and they both turned to see Zwili stalking into the cavern. They hadn't seen the dwarf in the hour since she had chased off after the goblin and she was much changed. Her fine clothing was gone, she wore only breeches, boots and a bandeau that wrapped around her chest. Her hair was disheveled beyond belief, clumsily shaved on both sides to leave a kind of crest that hung somewhat limply, an effort having obviously been made to make it stand up. She held a heavy hammer in her arms, a real weapon rather than a miners tool.

"Zwili I take it the goblins are…" Emmaline began.

"Dead," the dwarf concluded with grim finality. Emmaline wondered how she had managed to catch them all but didn't ask.

"Did uhh… I mean what happened to your hair?" she asked, imagining a goblin barber assaulting the dwarf.

"I have taken my oath to Grimnnir," Zwili spat. Emmaline had no idea what a Grimnnir might be but judging by Zwili's expression it was a sore subject so she chose not to pursue it.

"I owe you a debt, to both of you," the dwarf continued, ignoring Emmaline's lack of reaction to her announcement.

"To both of you, I will travel with you until I can repay it."

"But we don't really..." Emmaline tried to interject. Zwili's hands closed so tight around the haft of the hammer that her knuckles ran white. When she responded it was very slow, as though speaking to a child.

"I will travel with you."

[User]
Amal shrugged, an easy smile on his lips accompanying his raised brow. "Sure, you can join us." He said, and it seemed no problem to him. She had carried herself well in the fight against the goblins. Dwarfs were short, but they carried around a lot of muscle, even the women it seemed. Zwili seemed relieved at his acceptance, giving a curt nod and a salute with her newly found axe. Amal placed a finger on Emmaline's lips when she opened them, and he gave her a wink.

"Now that we are traveling together, can you tell us where we might find some treasures here?" Amal asked, crossing his arms as if it was the most pragmatic thing to ask. Zwili's eyes widened, but the luster in them died down after a moment from sheer willpower.

"If I had no taken my oaths, I would have already taken half and ran off. But gold has no place in my life now, or...vast riches, at least. I'll still take some so I can survive long enough for a good death. I hear Grimnir looks down upon-" She continued for another minute, lost in her monologue, convincing herself she wouldn't lose herself to gold lust. Meanwhile, the mere acknowledgement there was some vast treasure in the caverns made Amal and Emmaline's faces light up.

A goblin ran past them into another corridorm the soft padding of its feet rapidly approaching and just as suddenly disappearing making Emmaline jump a bit. The last few hours the little creatures had fallen to infighting. Amal had seen half a dozen diminutive green corpses on the rocky ground, and little figures darting out of the way wherever they walked. Whatever they were doing, they wanted to stay away from the sorcerer's killers. It seems the slaying had given quite the impression. Amal had to admit, he enjoyed being feared, if only for the hilarity of it.

"Follow me," Zwili said, raising her axe as if it were a standard. Amal helped Emmaline to her feet, and the three of them walked into the hallway, their bellies full for now. About two hundred meters away, through five different tunnels and up a strange, carved stairway of marble, Zwili pulled back a curtain to reveal an elaborate bedroom, its back wall strangely ornate with parallel markings while the other walls were lines with foreign trophies and hugged by desks with beakers and eldritch texts. Amal's eye caught a few of the more noteworthy items, but Zwili walked over to the back wall and uttered something unintelligable, knocking on the wall three times with her knuckles before spouting off "Coredok!" in a command.

The ground reverberated ever so slightly as the wall began to pick itself up, sliding into the ceiling with a harsh rumble. The gleam of the room was hard to look upon for a moment, but once their eyes adjusted, even Amal gasped.

Thousands of gold coins were made into a rough pile, a veritable mountain of treasure. The gold wasn't all polished, and there were numerous coins of brass and copper and silver, but the gold far outweighed every other metal. Zwili turned around without even giving it a look, knowing she wouldn't be able to look away if she had laid her eyes upon it. "Last time I was in here, the sight broke my spell and I was punished severely for disobeying Zar. I'll go and find somewhere to sleep before the morning." Was her parting words, and she marched out with a stern countenance.

[Assistant]
Emmaline had been somewhat distracted by the various eldritch texts and items which littered the late and unlamented Zhar Tan Zhou's inner sanctum. Many of them were obviously abominable works of chaos, unclean things bound in human skin, more innocuous volumes that seemed harmless but whispered silent promises of power and immortality. Somewhat reluctantly Emmaline opened her wizards sight to survey the library, feeling greasy and unclean at the magical imprints on some of the items. A few of them appeared untainted, though all but one was written in a strange script that looked to Emmaline like pick up sticks randomly cast on the ground. Her eyes fell upon one that stood out from the rest, a simple scroll of papyrus with a red silk tie. She reached out for it feeling it tingle against her skin as she picked it up. The ridiculous white silk gown she had been dressed in had nothing so useful as a pocket of course and her own. There was a satchel of fine leather laying over an ornately carved chair which served well enough, she picked up another book, the only one so far as she could tell that was written in the Classic Arcane she had been taught and stuffed it in after the scroll.

Emmaline. Emmaline frowned at the whisper of her name. Her attention was drawn to a piece of dark glass that looked like it might be a lens. It was an inocuous enough thing, not grotesque or awful the way that the brass eye or the bloody dagger beside it were. Obviously it was a quizzing glass, it would let her read all these spell books safely. All that reading sounded terribly dull and her attention began to wander. Emmaline. The whisper had a hint of exasperation in it as her attention returned to the quizzing glass. Just pick it up and all the arcane secret in this room could be hers. Eternal youth, immortality, the ability to turn objects to gold with the merest touch. Her hand lifted towards the glass. Charmon roared in her mage sight and snapped her head around so fast that her hair flew out and the hem of her kimono lifted. Emmaline! But the glass and its seductive whispering was lost as her eye filled with the horde of gold beyond the portal. Her jaw dropped open and her mind seemed to slip it's gears for a moment as all she could do was stare. In hindsight she probably should have heeded Zwili's warning and at least prepared herself for the powerful surge of gold lust that momentarily blotted out conscious thought. Without memory of cross thing the intervening distance she found herself laying atop a pile of coins, hugging it, running the metal through her fingers and rubbing herself against the clinking currency, its metallic scent filling her nostril, the smooth cool feel of it on her hands and spilling down into the kimono, the clink of it filling her ears.


[System]
Keyblade powers:
Light sworn: Slamming his two keyblades together Arthal can float in the air and this boost allows him flight as well meaning he take to the skies, however doing this gives him only one keyblade. His attacks are weakened but his defense is unchanged.

Masters Enlightenment: Being a Keyblade master Arthal can use this ability to predict other's moves and sense attacks before they happen. Of course this ability is very taxing and drains his health, stamina, and magic at different rates.

Heart type: Heart of the Valorous

Spells:
Holy
Magnet
Stop

Bio: Train under the Keyblade master, Thon Sho, Arthal has spent eighty years honing his skill under him. Thon himself spent fifteen years fighting in the keyblade was and abandoned it to return home the day the X-blade shattered. He began training an apprentice, he felt that when the war came to an end the survivors should be able to deal with the heartless and protect the worlds from each other.

Yet things changed, three dark Keyblade wielders arrived in Elf Burrow slaughtering villages. Thon began to organize a massive defensive of the capital, with those they killed turning into heartless they used this army to attack the capital. They did not expect to find two Keyblade wielding Elves heading the army. The battle raged for hours in the end Light conquer all, Elf burrow was saved and the World tree that granted Elves immortality protected.

Yet things were not well, Thon had been wounded fatally. His apprentice held his hand as the man died, explaining what he had done. He had abandoned his friends, when he saw a portal to another world he jumped through it then sealed it behind him. It had been the only escape from the world which housed the X-Blade now only known as the Keyblade Graveyard. The Keyblades there were not in fact left by those that had struggled for the weapon but those trapped in isolated piece land. Most of the graveyard was full of those that had simply fallen on their blades rather than waiting to die.

Thon sealed his heart within Arthal, which is how Arthal came to wield Redemption. As Thon believed Arthal would redeem his actions. Arthal having been named a Keyblade Master before Thon passed prepared himself. He would go and find others then end the war, so that no other world would ever suffer the kind of pain he had. He took the robes of one of the Dark Keyblade wielders and put them on, they would allow him to travel between worlds.

The last thing he did was approach the girl who had saved his life. Bellasiel had formerly been a priestess of the world tree, yet now she carried a Keyblade. He offered her a place at his side, he would train her and take her to new worlds with him. She accepted the two set off, Arthal leading her through the portal his robes could open and into a new world.

Theme: Louder than words.

Custom world sheet:
Description of the world: A a lush world with few cities and lots of spread out villages. Very centered on being one with nature and maintaining the natural order. Deeply rooted in magic and belief in gods that will protect them and help them in times of need.

Where you fit into the world: Formerly a Knight of the World Tree. Arthal was apprenticed to his worlds Keyblade wielder who had fled the war.

Recent history: In the past year an invasion by keyblade wielders of darkness leading heartless minions into Elf Burrow assaulted villages driving them back into their capital, Thoren. They prepare their defense and when it came time they fought to defend their city. Many lives were lost but the the Elves emerged victorious however Arthal's master had been defeated. In his final breaths he bestowed the title of Keyblade master on to his pupil and place his heart within Arthal's. Arthal left his people, seeking the source of the destruction and death to prevent this from happening again. Arthal also has an apprentice, Bellasiel.

[User]
Seth nodded and waited for her to take the orb. He watched her wrap the orb before picking it up. He didn't understand why she picked it up wrapped in cloth so he asked, "Why wrap it up? I highly doubt it would hurt you. If anything it would probably rid you of whatever little darkness you have."

"In fact, I highly doubt anything in this hallway would hurt you or the other warriors. Hell, anything in this temple shouldn't hurt since we can't use our Keyblades," Seth said before he sighed and mumbled, "Still lets the voices in though." Oh please, you know you'd be lost without me the voice chuckled. Seth rolled his eyes at the comment.

"I think Arthal wanted us to get this fragment and bring it to him. Better you give it to him than me. You're his apprentice right? You know more about him then I do," Seth said before he laughed, "Guy reminds me of one of the trainers back home. Couldn't talk to her cause she seemed like the type to lash out at you for asking a question."

[Assistant]
"I am not worried about it hurting me. I am worried about hurting it. I don't know how it would get rid of darkness and if it absorbs it than that could be a bad thing. Also, I don't want my darkness to be taken from me because it is a part of me. Only I can find balance in myself and make the right choices. Seth, don't believe the voices....you are stronger than you believe and I know that you will overcome anything once you truly set your mind to it." Bellasiel replied before continuing, "You are right that we should get this artifact to Arthal, I believe he will know best what to do with it."
Bellasiel laughed along with Seth and she shook her head lightly,I can see how he could come off that way but it is only because of his pain and his past. He is actually very kind and warm though he doesn't always seem to know how to show it. I think he wants to believe in people but doesn't completely trust them till later. I have to believe and trust in people or else my Keyblade's ability wouldn't work. It helps me fight and helps me understand others."

[User]
"I highly doubt you're darkness will harm it, with wat little darkness you have," Seth said. When she mentioned the voices Seth added, "The voice isn't some supernatural being. It's more my sanity breaking. This voice told me something that, I'm not sure I can argue with." Seth sighed. He didn't know if telling anyone what the voice said was right, but if it might help. Then maybe it was for the best.

"The voice, my sanity or insanity told me I need it to get revenge on the person who sent the man that burned down the orphanage with my friends inside. Honestly, I'm not sure if what it's saying is a lie. My Keyblade is a representation of my heart. So how can it lie?" Seth explained before he added, "To be honest, I think the only reason why I didn't pick up the artifact was the same reason you wrapped in in cloth. The voice yelled the light burned, but honestly I think it was putting on an act because it knew I might corrupt it." You give me way too much credit the voice protested.

"So if you don't believe in people then you're keyblades power dwindles," Seth said before he added, "So let me ask you something: if you trust that there is light in someone then how would you fight that person if they were corrupted by darkness?"

[Assistant]
Arthal looked at the orb Cyrus held walking over slowly, he tried to touch it. When he did it stopped whispering just became docile. "It's a tracking device for shard of darkness, it will collect them as well, since touching one directly can kill you, among other things." He decided to start explaining what he had found offering the orb back to Cyrus. "It's safe to touch, fragile as well. Drop it and it's powers would scatter across the world, the secret to making them are all but lost." He finished pointing down the middle hall.

"If you head down that hall and then descend the stair case you will find quarters. A dojo, training room, kitchen, recreational room, prayer hall, and bedroom with attached bathing chambers. The building seems to shift the number of bedrooms to how many people live within in it. Food seems to just appear in the dining hall, the most important thing a chamber that allows us to warp to parts of the world from here, instantly. It's old use was to allow communication across all worlds, this the hub of them all." He sighed sadly putting a hand on the wall.

"If this place could talk it would teach us thing's about our power's even our greatest masters do not know. We are but children compared to what the this place was like at it's height. A place of learning, understanding, and protection, in the name of balance and order. I want us to be like that, to maintain order. Never to act as if we could cleanse the worlds of heartless, we must simple watch over all the worlds. A order of peace keepers and teachers, that what will shall become in order to safeguard the future." He nodded looking back at Cyrus and Azazel. "Take the orb down and make yourselves at home. We will discuss where we should next together once we reconvene." Arthal said nodding to the both of them. "And good work, both of you."

[User] "I see...hmmm that is interesting." Bellasiel said softly after he spoke of the voice in his head. She wished she could help him more but it was hard to fix something like that. He deep down in his heart (even only a bit)believed darkness was the only way for his revenge but then again those two seemed to go hand and hand most of the time. "Hmmm it doesn't dwindle its power completely. It just won't work without help from another I don't believe and can't put my trust in. My Keyblade uses magic just fine no matter what since it is a matter of believing in myself but its actual power won't work without my trust in another and in a way, their trust in me. How do I explain it...let's say I use my Keyblade on you. Your weakness would be my weakness. My weakness would be your weakness. Your strength would be my strength. My strength is your strength. My Keyblade sync's hearts with the one I choose. If I used it on you, your sanity would probably last longer and push away your insanity further from control. Eventually though, it would effect us both if I held on too long and we would both be out of it, insanity grasping us. You would be able to do things with ease that I can do and visa versa. All and all, it would be like having a shared mind, being able to move in sync and perfect planning. Two is better than one kind of deal. It is strange to know things and then suddenly not once my Keyblade stops." Bellasiel tried to explain, seeming to find a bit of difficulty.

[Assistant] Azazel nodded and glanced suspiciously at the orb. It may be safe to touch, but he still didn't trust it. "We should make a bag for it. That way we never drop it." He listened to Arthal intently and a small smile crossed his face. It was nice to have a home again, even if it might not be for very long. Azazel decided to go look around the place himself, starting with the kitchen. Cooking was one of his pastimes back on Eden. He walked through the hallway, admiring the simplicity in its design and feeling the innate magical power flowing though the air. Give him a few dozen years and he might be able to understand the magic behind the rooms.

[User]
Seth listened to her explanation and even though it seemed complicated, he somewhat understood it. However the thought of his insanity infecting someone else worried him, but he knew how to stop it. "Your Keyblades power is, unique and can come in handy in tight situation. However, don't use that power on me. Ever!" Oh come on, the more the merrier the voice laughed.

"You don't need my insanity or the affects it comes with," Seth said before he added, "between the voice and the nightmares I get while in the state of insanity. I'm surprised I haven't gone complete psychopath, but when I think about why I'm fighting the darkness. I think it keeps me from becoming that." Seth watched as Arthal talked with the other Keyblade warriors and turned to Bellasiel.

"Alright, I think once you give him that. We should be all good to go," Seth said before he asked, "If you could, don't tell Arthal about what I told you about the voice. I highly doubt he needs another thing to worry about."

[Assistant]
Cyrus grasped the orb in his bare hand, trusting Arthal and only realizing that fact a moment later. He listened to the elf speak of the temple in its heyday. Cyrus had heard a few myths and stories from second hand sources, and that was as far as his knowledge of the temple went. He spoke of fighting for the sake of balance and order. Not necessarily in the name of the Light. And that, Cyrus could agree with. Too many Keyblade Warriors pledged their blade for one side of the proverbial coin and that, as logic would dictate, served only to perpetuate the war and conflict between the two sides.

But Arthal's desire for them all to become peace-keepers and teachers to the future he seemed to envision... Cyrus stayed silent. Fighting and killing... These things had been his only skills for the last fourteen years of his life. At this point it was all Cyrus really knew, and he suspected they would have to use those skills in order to create Arthal's envisioned future. He was willing to fight to build that future, but could he ever have a place in it? It wasn't a question Cyrus could answer, at least not right now. Perhaps it would come to him as they progressed with their mission, but for now he would just fight. Cyrus also had another suspicion, they would almost certainly have enemies on all sides, and the notion of eliminating them as threats seemed inevitable. What, Cyrus wondered, would Arthal do if faced with the choice of killing an enemy or allowing them to become a threat? Cyrus wondered this with eyes closed in thought.

[User]
The Elf turned now waiting for his apprentice and friend to return, he let the others go take a look at the living quarters he'd found. He silently wondered if they like staying at the temple, in truth he knew it would not be a good home. No one save the carriers of the blades themselves knew of the place and it was terribly remote, they would need to build a home of their own one day. A home for those who would protect the worlds and keep them blind to the carriers of keyblades.

He pondered even more if what they would do if one side posed piece or more of the X-blade. Moreover he worried if they had fused with it, that would give them a lot of power. He knew however most of these pieces would exist in forgotten worlds lost in darkness or perhaps shining so bright as to simply be ignorant to it. If they failed this war would probably continue until every world was gone and nothing was left to fight over. Kingdom Hearts, what it's power maybe was not worth the trillions of lives that would be lost to claim it. He didn't care the power they used so like as they used it for the right reasons, protecting, defending, and even killing those that would cause undo harm.


[System]
Age: 34
Sex: Male
Sexuality: "Straight". It's 1921, after all.
Relationship Status:Confirmed bachelor.

The Body

Height:5'6"
Weight: 138 lbs
Hair: Black
Eyes: Brown
Skin Tone: East Asian
Appearance:Wu is a well-heeled man of cultivated and genteel appearance. His hair is carefully done, he dresses exclusively in tailored suits, and there is never so much as a speck of dust on his person.

The Soul

Likes: Opera, a glass of wine, the latest investment opportunity, promoting the interests of New York's Chinese population
Dislikes: The Tongs, dirt, racist sentiment (it's 1921 so that is most sentiment)
Skills:
* Skilled banker and investor
* Moderate wealth
* Influence in Chinatown
* Wine connoisseur
* Speaks Mandarin, Cantonese, French, Italian, and English
* Expert knife thrower

Brief History:
* 1887: Born in Chinatown to immigrant parents.
* Schooled in the American tradition, spends as much time as possible in the library. Learned knife throwing from less savory characters in the neighborhood, still practices for stress relief.
* 1912: Rather than join his brothers in running his father's small tailoring shop, Wu instead goes to work for the Benevolent Fraternity of Merchants, a Chinese-American organization that protects local rights.
* Frustrated by the refusal of Chinese custom by local white banks, the Fraternity begins operation as an unchartered bank for the Chinese population. Wu is placed in charge of investments and helps make the enterprise profitable.
* 1900 on: Amidst Wu's slow rise, two local Tongs, the Hip Sing and the On Leong, go to the mattresses. It is a simmering, ongoing war that occasionally explodes into open violence. The Fraternity and the ordinary citizens of Chinatown are caught in between. However, the police and other white authorities largely ignore the brutal gang war. Wu's efforts against the Tong come to naught.

The Story

The phonograph scratched as the needle caught, and the small but comfortable study was filled with the swell of strings. The overture to Bellini's Il Puritani, featuring as Talbo none other than the incomparable Enrico Caruso (may he rest in peace, gone earlier this year).

Mr. Samuel Wu, Esquire nursed a small glass of sherry as he looked over his mail. As he had expected, much of it was letters he had hopefully dropped off at the post office, returned unopened when his Chinese surname and Chinatown return address were noted. Crestfallen, he looked over them. His missives to the New York Post, the Board of Aldermen, the District Attorney, anyone he thought might listen. Despite the perfection and eloquence of his English they had not bothered.

With all the talk of mobsters and racketeers, all the men like Rothstein and Dwyer and Morello, no one in this town seemed aware of the decades-long mob war being fought below 14th Street. The Hop Sing and the On Leong had perfected the art of murdering one another over turf and opium long before any of the Jewish, Irish, or Italians began running rum and trading bullets. So many young men dead, so many parents suddenly childless. Wu was suddenly hit by a wave of powerlessness. There had to be something he could do.

Maybe if the law would not help it was time he acted on his own.

The idea hit him like a thunderbolt. It was silly, it was impractical, of course. But the idea of acting the chivalrous hero, to be a Parsifal or Don Ottavio, it appealed to the child in him.

But where to begin? He knew nothing of policing or detecting. Unless he were to take a sabbatical to somehow learn and practice such skills, and then teach them to other community-minded individuals. . .

Wu picked up the newspaper he had idly leafed through earlier, trying to find the ad he spotted earlier in the day. He found it, read it over twice to be sure. He nodded to himself. This was the right choice.

He wound up the telephone, lifted the earpiece from the receiver, spoke in his most cultured voice, which coincidentally was his standard voice. "Hello, operator? Kindly connect me to Miss Elizabeth Hobbs, please."

The Ether
Color Code:6A5ACD
Theme Song: Prelude to Cavalleria Rusticana

[User]
E6C2FF

She watched as each of her employees entered the room with excitement. Each in turn she greeted with a large smile and a bright and cheery tone that was perhaps lower than one might expect from such a small woman. A voice like whiskey and cigarettes which lilted with a upper class British accent. She doused her smoke in the nearby ashtray and stood, moving toward her desk.

"Since everyone is here then, I will hand out the contracts. They are just simple things I expect from all of you and a packet that will work as an employee handbook with suggestions on what I would like you to wear, gear you might need, and the way you must behave in order to give this company a good name." She collected a stack of papers and handed them out to each person in turn.

Bitsy waited patiently as her bright and shiny new employees signed their contracts. She was so enthused about the whole situation she had to light another cigarette and went to shuffle some papers uselessly on her desk. Finally all of the contracts were handed in and Hobbs immediately pulled out envelopes which contained the $100 and required a signed receipt showing payment had been given. The young woman had no concept of money and did not quite realize was the sign on bonus was the equivilent of $1,300 nor that their weekly pay came to nearly $700 in todays terms. All of this for a sake of a hobby.

"The sign on bonus is to ensure you will have a full clean wardrobe, are able to purchase notebooks and pens, as well as to make sure all of you can eat. A starving investigator is a bad investigator. All he'll want to do his investigate what to put in his stomach." She joked in a jovial and friendly way, as if she had known these people all her life.

Once everyone came down from the shock of the amount of money they had been given, Bitsy decided it was time to get right into it. "Since we have everything signed and ready we may as well start! I already have a case lined up for us. It is through my cousin, he has an archaeologist friend who has had some items moved around or gone missing. He suspects that a fellow colleague may be up to these shenanigans. Any questions before we get on with it?"

[Assistant]
Rosa had seen her fair share of people from all sorts of different backgrounds, which is why she was a little disappointed in the line-up. All of the people here looked as if they could afford breakfast; maybe even luncheons, if she was going to be adventurous with her musing. She was even a little offended that Sam Wu, Esq, had such a fancy-pancy way of speaking. Where was the honour? The integrity, the pride in your own heritage? She dished out some disappointment in her stare. Maybe that'll get to him. Or maybe he'll just wonder why this chocolate ragamuffin was giving him the stink-eye.

Whether it worked or not was irrelevant, Samuel Wu (Esq) still gave out his business cards and Rosa was temporarily placated with the notion of an offering. She didn't quite know what to do with cards like those, especially since her time on the telephone was severely limited after racking up that bill talking to the girls back in Louisiana. However it wasn't hard to spot a bored young lady, and a bored young lady was she. Rosa knew how to amuse herself, and waiting was probably one of her fatal weaknesses. Now she had a card.

Another woman walked in but barely said anything - no introduction this time - as Rosa was perfecting her masterpiece, a paper boat that could weather all the storms and shit you'd find in the New York gutters. It was intriguing to see her handiwork, especially given she was still wearing those gloves and hadn't taken them off when she came in. In fact, out of all the people who came in, the only one that really introduced herself was the dirty young blonde who looked like she'd come from harder times, but hadn't, because she was a LeBlanc. In fact, that name alone made Rosa nearly drop her paper boat.The LeBlancs made everyone's life hell. Even being near one made Rosa bridle with disgust.

This didn't mean Rosa didn't like any of those assembled. It was just-...she wasn't impressed by them. There was something lacking - something they needed to prove to her first before she could really appreciate who she was working with. For Samuel, it was a bit of relatability. For the two unknowns, it was primarily their names. And the LeBlanc-...well, Rosa didn't know how anyone could redeem themselves if they'd openly call out that name in a high rise apartment. But she knew a thing or two about the path to redemption. She was willing to keep an eye out for some sort of miracle.

When the contract arrived, Rosa had completed the business-card-turned-sea-vessel and was ready to set sail into the dangerous waters of binding agreements. She regarded the paper with scepticism. It crinkled under her clunky grasp - but only a little. She inhaled through her nostrils. She rubbed one eye. She looked up at Joseph, then down at the contract. She did not - could not - mention nor react to the absolutely absurd amount of money she'd be making, on a salary. She barely batted an eyelid at the reimbursement clause. She absolutely, positively did not make any sort of indication of surprise or excitement whatsoever, on pain of death, or the loss of such a good deal-...

...A deal too good to be true.

Rosa's finger traced the circle of the symbol painted on the letterhead. She was at least vaguely aware of what her employer was trying to tell her, but her thoughts went back to the cereal gypsy of her ill-fated discovery of the investigation unit. Her blood seemed to curdle in her veins, as if she was dumped into a bucket of ice water. She knew there had to be a condition somewhere. A 'but'. She had an inkling of a suspicion, that had now blossomed into a great big ugly bloom of hypotheses.

When Rosa spoke she stood out immediately, which probably explained why she was so quiet in the first place. For starters, a voice like that didn't come from New York. In fact, it was really difficult to place her anywhere geographically from the sound alone. Sometimes there was a Louisiana drawl. Her consonants had all the heavy heat of Maghrebi plains. The Irish in her came out like a little leprechaun elbowing its way through the sentences. And, as if it were an afterthought, there was that unmistakable New York varnish on top of the entire debacle, as if tossing some loose semblance of familiarity onto the most otherworldly accent known to man would make it a little easier on the ears. It was coherent enough though. You could hear her. She spoke in a way that could be understood.

She said, "Do you know what this symbol means?" Her gaze snapped up to meet Bitsy's in the eye, a ballsy move for someone with more patches in her pants than dollars in her pocket. "Or did you just draw this on for the hell of it?"

[User]
Mr. Wu ignored the look he got from the woman- doubtless furious that a Chinese had dared to speak to her- and instead studied the contract. Fairly standard boilerplate, really. The pay and terms were exceptionally generous. A staggering fifty dollars a week. Hobbs had money to burn, clearly. Wu idly wondered how best to use the money. Some of it would cover his expenses of course, the rest would be donated to a Chinatown charity. He had to look out for his people. Content with the offer, Wu went ahead and signed his name in a careful and elegant script

The same woman who had glared at him objected to the ouroboros device on Hobbs' letterhead. Wu largely ignored the protest, instead thinking of practical matters. While he had no experience in the matter it seemed to him that logical and unemotional thoughts were key to success for a detective. He extracted a leatherbound notebook and pencil from his case, held them at the ready like a student taking notes in class. Feeling the need to be helpful, he pulled out a few other pencils and wordlessly offered them around the room to anyone who might need one.

"I, for one, would like to hear more of the misfortunes of this archaeologist. As it happens, I do have some passing familiarity with the lucrative trade in antiquities. Many of my countrymen have brought over ancient treasures from the old country, and unfortunately find themselves in such dire straits in this brave new world that they are forced to sell such heirlooms in order to pay their debtors. Frequently, they come to myself or others of my organization for advice, and through this humble enterprise I have become acquainted with myriad local purveyors of curiosities and antiquities. From this experience it strikes me as most likely that some unscrupulous villain has stolen the pieces in question in hopes of turning a tidy profit from their auction to less upstanding collectors." He delicately cleared his throat. "That is, of course, a preliminary thought. Ignorant as I am of the facts of this peculiar case, perhaps I should refrain from a priori speculation until such time as I have been fully appraised of the matter." Beaming, happy to be contributing, he eagerly lifted his pencil above his notepad. Mr. Wu was beginning to enjoy himself.


[System]
Age:
19
Height:
5'7''
Appearance:
Sid has a lithe, well toned body from her years outdoors. Accompanying her tanned complexion is a mop of thick, unruly long black hair that flows down to the back of her thighs that she keeps braided as much as possible. In her heart shaped face rest big green eyes above a long nose (Greecian) and lips that always seem to be smiling. Across her cheeks and nose she has a myriad of freckles. She wears a pair of large, square-framed glasses.

She wears an emerald-green coat with an upturned fur collar framing her face, which she normally keeps unbuttoned and the sleeves rolled up to the crook of her elbows. Underneath her coat, she wears a variety of tank tops, typically with vibrant colors and designs on them that depict bug Pokemon. On her legs, she combos black shorts over leggings that match her coat, and simple black boots with silver buckles that reach mid-calf. On her hands are black fingerless gloves. She carries around a magnifying glass with her that she uses to inspect things.
Personality:
If there's one thing to say about Sid, it's that she's an incorrigible bug-Pokemon enthusiast. Wherever there's bug Pokemon to be found, Sid will be climbing up trees and crawling through bushes to find them and study them. When she gets into contact with humans and other Pokemon, she will often compare them to bug Pokemon.

She's a "action before thought" sort of girl, who will leap into dangerous situations before realizing how much trouble she could potentially be putting herself, and others, in. That isn't her fault though, her love for the unknown is endless – and, she believes, worthy of the danger she might entangle herself in.

She can be rather melodramatic when things don't go her way, but she's a generally chipper girl with too much energy for her own good.

Sid was originally born in Gillsenville, and around the age of 11 she and her family moved to Trimdale. She didn't know much of what was happening, other than her parents seeming very panicked as they whisked their family away to the middle of nowhere. Initially, Sid wasn't pleased with their arrangements, as it meant leaving the dojo she was attending, as well as all of her friends, to start anew. She was sullen and withdrawn, and spent alot of her time alone, climbing trees and generally moping about how unfair and how boring her life was.

That was, until one fateful day when a Venipede literally fell on her as she was walking through the forest surrounding the city. At first, she was scared and frightened. Bug Pokemon were never really her thing, except... This one was injured! She knew that he wouldn't survive out here, whoever or whatever had done this was surely close-by, so she smuggled him home and into her room. He had been too weak to struggle against her, even though he seemed frightened of her as well.

She cared for Venipede secretly, patching his wounds up, feeding him, and trying to get him to understand that she meant no harm. It took a few weeks – and a few bites – before the Venipede finally calmed down enough that she could carry him back out into the forest. When she had tried to set him free so that he could live his life out in the wild, he had instead chosen to stay with her and claimed her as his own.

That's how Sid's life as a bug Pokemon enthusiast began. She and Venipede, who she eventually named Ramsey, became inseperable. After documenting and studying bug Pokemon in the Trimdale area for many years, she decided to set out into the rest of the world, to find all of the bug Pokemon the world has to offer... and then study them! With Ramsey at her side, of course.

Preferred Starter:
Venipede

Name/Nickname: Ramsey
AL: 20
Gender: Male ♂
Ability: Speed Boost
Moveset: Protect, Poison Jab, Iron Defense, Bug Bite

National Pokedex, sleeping bag, bug nets, various sketchbooks and notebooks, some antidotes and potions among other food items.

[User]
"Well you certainly don't see that every day." Ian said as he watched somebody crawl on all fours in the direction of the lab. "I'm sure we'll get to meet that one at the lab later."

Ian and the other two trainers (sorry for just dragging y'all along, but there wasn't much else to do at this point) walked to a large building with its own wind turbine sticking out of the top. The red letters reading 'Gym' were plastered over the doorway and the sign a few feet away from the structure. For some reason, the outer walls of the gym were covered with graffiti. Instinctively, Ian attempted to walk through the automatic doors only to bump against them.

"Maybe it's closed?" He thought out loud as he gave the doors another try. In an attempt to confirm the gym's status he searched for any type of written sign or another indication that the gym was empty. Finding nothing, he turned to the other two and shrugged. "I guess nobody's home."

Sneasel was still inspecting the area around the gym to see if there was some kind of alternate way in, after a few seconds she returned and sighed with disappointment.

"I guess facing a gym as soon as we got here was a bit optimistic anyway." Ian said, patting Sneasel gently on the head.

[Assistant] Hadaron nearly tripped over a girl that was scuttling along the ground even faster than the venipede behind her, barely saving both himself and Tal from crashing into the ground. After he safely regained his footing and having successfully managed avoiding both the girl and her pokemon he spoke up, "Looking for something? And do you need a hand?" he asked offering the strange girl a hand up. Upon closer look she had dirt marks all over her face that even crawling didn't explain. Her long black hair was also getting all mattered with dirt, from what he knew of girls she'd probably spend a long time in the shower trying to get rid of that.

[User]
Sidine blinked her eyes a few times, startled at the sudden human interaction. She had barely noticed Hadaron until he spoke up, but now he had her full attention. She took his proffered hand, more out of reflex than actually thinking about it. When she rose to her feet she pushed her glasses up her nose, and realized that they were smudged so badly she couldn't actually see Hadaron's features. She took them off quickly, wiping them clean on her colorful tank top, and then placed them back on her freckled face.

"Ah yes, much better indeed! Quite astute of you to notice, I am looking for something. Or rather, some-mon." She chuckled at her own lame joke before glancing around at the area she was in. "Where in the blazes are we, sir? I do not remember happening upon a town..." Her eyes caught sight of one of the many spinning wind turbines before she put a dirty finger to her chin. "Ah yes, Windshire! How fortuitous. I believe introductions are at hand, sir. I am Sidine Damon, you may call me Sid however. And this is Ramsey." She pointed at her Venipede as he crawled up the side of her body and took his spot on her back, his head just peeking over her shoulder. She leaned forward, and put her hand to her mouth. "You should probably call him Sir Ramsey, though..." She whispered conspiratorially, even though Venipede could hear everything she said.

"What adventure brings you to Windshire, sir?"

[Assistant]
Glider looked like he was about chirp a protest to what Ian had said, but thankfully Trey cut him off, "You're probably right. Looks like we'll just have come back some other time." he was disappointed, sure, but he still had the whole town, the Region itself even, to explore still so he wasn't about to let this get him down.

"So where exactly is the Lab, anyway?" Trey wondered aloud to himself, "I don't think we passed it by yet, so we can't be far from it, right?" he reasoned, coming to the conclusion that the lab must have been relatively close to the Gym. It made sense in his mind, at least.

[User] Sid and Sir Ramsey hm? What an interesting pair. "I'm Hadaron and this," he said indicating the Ralts on his head, "Is Tal, we came here to start our pokemon journey in this region, I was planning on starting off by visiting the lab. My turn, why are you here? From you pokemon and the way you were snooping around I'd say you're an avid bug trainer but I couldn't guess more than that." Hadaron said curious to learn a little more about her. Tal leaned forward a little and peered inquisitively at Sid and her Venipede.

[Assistant]
"It's not very far, it's that big building with the Pokeball over that way." Ian said pointing to the large building in the center the boat they had come from. "I guess we'd better head over there. Not much else to do in this place." The disappointment in Ian's voice was barely hidden, but it was quickly forgotten as he remembered that there would be plenty of gyms to challenge.

Ian brought up his map on his Pokegear to take a good look at the Kosei region, it was a large place, to be sure. But from Windshire it wasn't very clear which route would be the best to take. The two paths branched of in nearly opposite directons leading to Mesalon and Vareena respectively. While Mesalon seemed slightly closer, Vareena's grass type gym would give Sneasel a distinct advantage. Ian decided it'd be a good idea to wait until after the meeting at the lab to make a decision and closed his pokegear.

"Well, let's head over there then." Ian said before the group set off.

 It wasn't very long before they were standing in front of the large building, the sign on the front clearly reading Pokemon Lab.

"It isn't a very creative name, but I guess it gets the message across."

(a small while later)

Several trainers were seated in the lobby waiting patiently for Professor Tsuga to arrive. As expected, the man was already running a few minutes late. several minutes later the door to Tsuga's office was flung open and the professor strode through looking as frazzled as ever.

"I'm glad to see you've all made it on time." Tsuga stated as he quickly glanced at his watch. A barely noticeable look of alarm flashed on his face as he saw the time. The professor shrugged hopelessly."Unfortunately, I was the one who arrived late. I'm sure you all have plenty of questions about this region and why it was so important for you all to be here for this...orientation."

"Well, yeah. From what I can tell all of us already have Pokemon and the usual travelling gear." Ian said. It felt kind of redundant to hold a meeting like this when most of the trainers were already ready to go and explore.

"Yes, well I'm actually rather glad that all of you do. You see, I've misplaced the pokeballs that would be holding your starting Pokemon otherwise." Tsuga said with a sigh. "But that's irrelevant, I had to get all of you here today to officially register you for the Kosei League, and answer any questions you have about it. You see, Kosei is a very dangerous place and to be certain that trainers can handle themselves in the more hazardous areas, many places require a gym badge to enter. I understand how inconvenient that may be, but between Team Tyrannical's sudden activity and the odd circumstances that have been occurring so frequently these past few months, it has become a necessity for trainers to prove their abilities and continuously grow stronger."

"Team what?" Ian asked, now slightly confused.

"Tyrannical, yes. I'm sure, you being from Orre, you are aware that there are many groups of criminals that like to band together and cause trouble." Tsuga said. "Needless to say, Tyrannical is no exception. They don't seem to be too aggressive in their actions, and their motives, if they have any, are far from clear. But it shouldn't be too much of an issue for you all. They don't seem to be too concerned about random trainers, and from what I've heard they aren't too keen about attacking children. If you don't mind, Ian, I'd prefer if you could keep all questions to yourselves until I'm finished."

Ian grumbled slightly to himself at the word 'children', but nodded all the same. He didn't like the sound of these Team Tyrannical people. While they probably weren't nearly as bad as Cipher, they would certainly be something to watch out for.

"Of course, despite all of its flaws, Kosei isn't at all a bad place. With its wide variety of Pokemon, trainers, and sights to see, it is a region full of adventure!" Tsuga said excitedly. It was obvious that this part of the presentation was all but rehearsed. As if to confirm this, Tsuga shuffled through his papers for a moment and once he found the sheet he was looking for, began speaking once more. "Well, I guess that's my presentation. If any of you have any questions before you leave, be sure to ask while we're all still here. I'm sure at least a few of you will share the same question."

[User]
Before going to the Lab...

Sidine put her magnifying glass up to her eye as she peered at Ralts, but she froze when she heard what Hadaron had just said. A look of shocked realization spread across her face, her mouth forming into a large "O". "Oh Metapods! The Lab! You're right, we must be going. We can't be late!" She beckoned to Hadaron as she began jogging in the direction of the lab, Ramsey clinging to her shoulder tightly to avoid falling off.

At the Lab...

Sidine sat quietly for the majority of the Professor's presentation, occupying herself with wiping off her face and arms with a damp towel that became gradually more blackened with dirt. When the Professor was finally ready for questions, Sidine was more than ready to ask. "Why yes, Professor. I was curious as to a few of your points. Despite their obscure motives, couldn't Team Tyrannical still pose a threat if we were to obtain rare Pokemon during our travels? I have read up on villainous teams from other regions, and that seems to be their go-to tactic." Sidine adjusted her glasses before continuing. "Would it not be better, in this case, to have trainers team up? For their own safety?"


[System]
Title: -

Age: 11

Gender: Female

Personality: Senna is a happy sort of child, the kind that isn't easily brought down and who recovers quickly when they are. She's a survivalist by nature, a careful, practical girl who can be trusted to be reliable during tough situations. She has a certain, cat-like curiosity to her, but she is always sure to keep a handle on herself so that it doesn't get her into trouble. Her sense of adventure is strong, despite her general level-headedness.

She is a person who puts the most importance on self-interest, and considers the needs of others second. She's not above using underhanded tactics to keep herself going, and unlike what you would expect from someone her age, violence is not something she's a stranger to. Having lived most of her life toughing it out in the wilderness, concepts such as luxury or extravagance are lost on her, and she would be more than happy to enjoy a simple, peaceful sleep in the crook of a tree branch if the situation called for it.

When it comes to her interactions with others, Senna is sensible, and usually to the point. She does engage in basic deception, to the degree that benefits her, but is just as likely to display a simple honesty when she has no reason to lie. She has a tendency to subtly imitate or go along with others around her, more out of habit than anything else, and this does help her come off as more likeable where otherwise she may seem a little stiff.

She actually does have a sense of humour.

Biography: Orphaned at a young age by an epidemic, Senna was adopted by the local woodsman and hunter, often referred to as the "Shadowcat". He was somewhat of a local legend, but he had a weak spot for kids, and took her in as both his adopted daughter and his student. She took to him immediately, with his quiet coolness and the fleeting warmth of his smiles at the nightly campfires. She looked up to him, as the one who provided for her and who shared cool stories of the adventures of his youth.

From him, she learned the arts of the wilds, and how to live off the land. While she frequently visited the village, she spent much of her time out with her new father in the nearby forests. When she did spend time in the village, she was certainly well-liked by the people there, possibly because her biological parents were quite well liked as well before their demise. She was often jokingly called "Shadowkitten" because of the way she stuck to her adopted father like glue, stalking along in his shadow pretty much whenever they were together.

The older she grew, and the more she learned to do things herself, the more she started to help her father in his work. She never stopped learning, of course, and there was no chance of her catching up to her teacher anytime soon, but about when she reached the age of ten she begun to be able to manage hunts on her own. When she realized she could fend for herself, she would often go for long treks into the woods on her own, and had all sorts of adventures, ranging from the discovery of an ancient tower to a close encounter with a fearsome Grizzly Bear.

When word reached the village of the God's descent, along with it came information on some of the gods that were seen. From this, she learned of the existence of a Ranger Goddess, which perked her interest almost immediately. That said, she probably would never have left if it weren't for her teacher's urging, telling her she should go and make a name for herself under this new Goddess. The entrance to the Labyrinth was close, so she had no issue making her way there, and in contracting with the Goddess she sought.

Now, it was just a matter of what she wanted to do.

Skills:

Sharpened Instincts: Heightened intuition and senses, honed through a life of hunting and outdoor activities. While not on the level of her teacher, Senna is more than capable of using her instincts to seek out and avoid danger in her surroundings, and can usually determine when somebody means her ill will with nothing more than her intuition. She's a bit more perceptive than most, and can easily get a grasp for when something is "wrong" with a situation or place.

Hunting/Tracking: A necessary skill for somebody forced into her position, and a skill that was honed greatly under the tutelage of her Teacher. She can track targets across long distances, find signs of prey movements, or activity, and make use of a range of hunting techniques including trapping, tracking and skinning.

Aptitude and training in stealth is a given. Used for hiding one's presence and making use of environmental features to conceal themselves from detection by foes or allies alike. Control of the body and mind is very important, so a certain degree of natural calm and quiet is to be expected. Footsteps, breathing and movements can easily be masked, allowing for silent approaches or escapes, depending on the situation. Camouflage, misdirection and the hiding of motives are all also possible.

Ranged Combat: An invaluable skill for a hunter, allowing for a fast, accurate kill at a range, if you have the knack for it. With her sharp eyes, careful, calm nature and capable fingers, Senna found that she was more than capable of preforming in Archery and other forms of ranged fighting alike. Able to throw axes or spears effectively, due to her having some training in these areas. Doesn't apply to more complicated weapons, such as throwing knives or chakram.

Survival: A set of skills necessary for survival in the wilderness. Excluding those already mentioned, the skills included are basic first aid, herblore, fishing, wood carving, cooking, shelter creation, fire-starting and straightforward wilderness knowledge. Senna isn't an expert, but she can manage. Not effective at winning, but great at not dying.

Includes a capacity to move through the world and manipulate her limbs in complex manners, necessary for navigating terrain more complex than a clear, open meadow. Allows for feats of advanced mobility like tree-climbing, swimming and generally agile, acrobatic movements. As somebody who spent a great amount of her time outdoors, these skills came to her naturally. She's quite quick on her feet.

Guild: Cernunnos

Equipment:

Throwing Weapons: One steel-tipped spear, usable for throwing or melee combat. Two throwing axes with steel heads.

Bow: A beautiful, hand-crafted bow, perfectly suited for Senna's height. Includes a quiver and cleaning supplies, with 10 steel-tipped arrows on hand.

Survival Gear: Includes rope, string, a pot, a bedroll, fire-starting supplies, a skinning knife, a carving knife, some bandages (and herbs for cleaning wounds), salt, a large skin for water or alcohol, and some basic rations (Dried/Smoked Meats, fruit). Contained in a "Bag".

Currency: One gold, and five silver. Contained in a small, independent purse.

[User]
Alexander had to squint at the sudden brightness of his surroundings as the third floor was brightly illuminated for some inexplicable reasoning. "So much for the torch," he muttered as he held it off to the side so the flame didn't distract him as he observed this new floor. Naturally his eyes were drawn to the Slimes present just as the monsters were drawn and reacted to his presence. While curious about the new coloration of Slime, he would have to wonder later as the Poison Slime tensed and pounced.

With no use for the torch he tossed it towards the spreading red Slime with a flick of his wrist. They didn't seem to be flammable, but perhaps it would ward the creature away from spreading itself in his direction while he dealt with the Poison Slime. He dropped low and darted forward towards the Poison Slime, intending to bisect the creature with a powerful blow and rush past its split halves. His shield was braced overhead to protect him from any splatter. The red slime, while not completely ignored, would be free to act as he took care of its poisonous brethren.

[Assistant]
"...Bye", Senna mutters quietly as Cern disappears. Despite that she hadn't gotten a chance to say a proper goodbye, the girl was satisfied with the information she had gathered, and left the area feeling much smarter. She thinks over what she had experienced, and figures she could do without the towels for now.

Recalling the healing flasks she had discovered, Senna wonders for a while if there was any more cool loot to be found if she went on ahead of the others. Their enemies seemed to mostly consist of slimes, with only a few of those Goblin creatures on the first floor. With that in mind, Senna makes a decision, and heads back into the depths of the Labyrinth. She treads lightly, but quickly, making her way past the already-explored floors and keeping her senses alert for any possible unseen threats.

When she reaches the top of the third floor stairs, she stops, listening for a moment before creeping along the stairs.

...Hmm? It seems somebody had the same idea as her, as she could hear the sounds of a scuffle and see the back of one of the adventurers from earlier. Alexander, I think he was called? He was in a fight with a couple of Slimes. He and his foes probably hadn't noticed her yet... so, making a quick decision to conceal herself, Senna watches the fight start to unfold with her bow ready.

Alexander seemed strong, he could probably handle the two slimes himself. One was an odd colour, it probably had another special ability, like the poison slimes. She checks the ceiling quickly, looking out for any-

Oh.

There were slimes.

On the ceiling.

Without delay, Senna shouts out a warning to her fellow adventurer, preparing an arrow to be launched if one of the secret slimes made its move.

"Watch out above! Slimes on the ceiling."

[User]
The torch, as one might expect, fizzled out when Alexander tossed it into the small carpet of red slime.

Then, from the area of the slime, a fizzling sound continued to emanate. Curious.

However, this was not of much relevance to the matters at hand.

As one might expect, Alexander's attack was successful. Against these sorts of beings, this could hardly be called a fight. If they really were weaker than they were the last time the Labyrinth was open, one had to wonder how strong they would need to be in order to pose a legitimate threat. Granted that carelessness was still dangerous, as evidenced by a currently-paralyzed Vincent.

The Poison Slime was sliced down the middle, its remains splattering onto the front surface of Alexander's shield. However, as he cut through the slime...

-A red slime fell from the ceiling, moving to land squarely on his head. Tactical brilliance at its finest.

Hopefully Senna would help him out with that.

---

???
???, ???
Warning: Temporal distortion actualization requires higher accumulation of Authority.

Seal on Omnipotent Failed Autonomous Will Extension ■ ■ ■ ■ judged to be sufficient. Extrinsic seal on Impossible Failed Autonomous Will Extension ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ judged to be sufficient. Will begin minor deconstruction of first-order seal to reaccumulate Authority sufficient to actualize temporal distortion. Initiating.

---

Back at Thoth's alchemical lab, the alchemist God was hard at work brewing her silver-colored liquid, whatever it was. The latest changes to it included dumping a copious amount of a strange white substance into the cauldron, from a jar labeled "Sugar". Interesting indeed.

This process went on for a while, with the paralyzed Vincent standing off to the side and Thoth humming cheerily as she brewed her potions, until she seemed to remember that Vincent was there.

"O-Oh, r-right!" She blurted out abruptly, eyes wide as she turned to face Vincent, as if confirming his existence. "...u-um, sorry, I-I got caught up in working. I don't rea-ah, no, bad Thoth, no rambling..." She mumbled, shifting her weight from one foot to the other uneasily. "...um, so, I-I don't have any anti-paralytics, but I-I just remembered that I can...um, well, I can update your status, which should clear away most of the effect."

...

...

...

It was probably a good thing that Vincent was currently paralyzed.

Regardless, after speaking, Thoth's face scrunched up in concentration as a soft purple light materialized around her body, flowing into Vincent's.

[Assistant]
He felt the blade part the slime in half with ease, and subsequently the splatter as his shield blocked the inanimate fluid. Not quite as planned, but apparently successful nonetheless. 'Why that sou-' Thoughts interrupted and before he did anything else though, Senna's warning reached his ears and he listened without hesitation; no glance in her direction or above to get a nice Slime to the face, Alexander simply threw himself to the side, rolling to a crouch and standing quickly.

Even then he began to move around the room as he surveyed his surroundings, including the ceiling, berating himself for his carelessness. He had seen the enemies and engaged without properly taking in his surroundings, and if not for Senna's warnings he might currently be wearing a red Slime as a hat. As he put some distance away from the enemies by backpedalling towards the stairs where Senna stood with arrow drawn. "Thanks," he called out in a grateful tone, "I'll treat you to something after we're done."

[User]
When the Red Slime makes its decision to start falling, its fate has already been sealed. Given the forces of gravity, the gelatinous monster could only fall at a set rate. Because of this, in the moments directly after leaving the safety of the ceiling, it was left completely vulnerable to being picked off by Senna.

Her movements contained no waste. In a series of simple, precise actions, ingrained into her body's memory, she draws and looses an arrow accurately at the center point of the Slime's body, leading the target to take into account its speed and momentum. Knowing in her heart that the arrow would hit, she immediately pulls another from its quiver and takes aim at the other slime.

With her blessed speed, and with the skill of several years of careful training, by the time her first lethal shot finished piercing its target it was likely she would have already loosed the next one, this time at the slime's poisonous partner on the ceiling. Either way, she doubted the seemingly helpless creature would be able to react or dodge in time, especially seeing as it didn't seem to possess much in the way of intellect.

At this point, she was starting to push the limits of her superhuman capabilities. She knew from experience the awesome power the Goddess's blessing conveyed, but she had yet to fully test that power's limitations. This would be a good time, against opponents who she clearly outclassed in terms of ability. Better to understand these limits now, when she was in no real danger, than to be caught unawares later on.

It also earned her a free meal. Which is always a plus. At this thought, Senna smiles to herself internally, considering the words of her adoptive father. Something about free meals tasting better.