[System]
AKA: Dev
Age: 33
Race: Human
Appearance:

Dev is a fan of his beard and hair, often going to surprising lengths to make sure his hair is properly groomed. His body (with the exception of his face) is covered with burn marks and scars, a culmination of years of abuse and experimentation with explosives. His hands are darker than the rest of his body due to the damage that has been done to them over time.

Faction: Marauder (Former Criminal)
Role in Team?: Demolitions Expert

Bio:
Devronian Arx was born to Yorick and Camilla Arx as a twin of Wesley Arx. The Arx family had a military tradition, and the Arx twins were not sparred from the violent and authoritative traditions passed down through the generations. The boys were treated with borderline abuse, with Yorick attempting to make military heroes out of his sons. Until the age of 14, the two boys spent nearly every day of their lives training, learning, and preparing to be soldiers.

Yorick was a violent man, one who abused the two boys relentlessly. That's why Dev wasn't upset to see his father die slowly and painfully from an untreatable sickness. It was the perfect justice, seeing as Yorick was killed in the least honorable fashion possible. Following the death of the Arx patriarch, Camilla took a job to support Wesley, who had developed a passion for politics and diplomacy. As a result, she wasn't around much to take care of the two boys, so Dev and Wes had to raise themselves for a short time.

Dev was too much his father's son. That's why, when Camilla was fired from her job and imprisoned for supposedly stealing medical research when the boy was 17, Dev took things personally. He spent the next year honing his skills and expertise with explosives. He crafted his own homemade explosives, and used them to send a message: he busted his mother out of jail as the headquarters of the company she had worked for was burning.

Camilla and Wes disowned Dev after that incident. The Arx family was never fond of terrorists, even amongst their own kin. So Dev left, and had made quite a name for himself in the criminal sphere after his act of revenge. A small circle of "Righteous Rebels" managed to find Dev before the authorities could, and they took the young man into their fold. Dev proved to be proficient in his understandings of basic architecture and engineering, able to point out weak points in practically any structure. He also worked on modifying and creating his own explosives, inevitably created "Death Whistle" in the process.

It was only a matter of time before Dev was caught and imprisoned, labelled a terrorist and slotted to be executed. Dev was willing to accept that fate, but he liked the better offer of serving on-board a ship that was trying to make a difference in the galaxy. Dev didn't buy into the patriotic bullshit the Marauders were serving, but Dev did like the idea of demonstrating his talents for a prolonged period of time.

Personality:
Dev doesn't play by any rules, and most times would rather die in a fiery explosion than follow orders. He does place higher value in respect than his carefree and chaotic nature. Dev values anyone who breaks the law and doesn't regret it. He understands that laws tend to be too restrictive. He also treats his work with explosives as an art form, and blows up (pun intended) when his work is degraded or not appreciated.

Dev to some extent understands the importance of doing what he is told on-board the Monroe. Quite frankly, Dev will only follow orders to ensure that he can continue doing what he loves: blowing shit up.

Weapon(s): Dev is a fan of firepower, so he always carries an assortment of explosive/lethal devices on his person. Dev typically carries a few flashers (non-lethal, designed to blind anyone within the room no matter how protected their eyes are), a few scorchers (incendiary grenades designed to cause no/minimal damage to structures but cause a lot of damage to hostiles), a few Adhesive Grenades (Weird Plasma Glue that slows hostiles significantly), and two Gone Mines (let's just say everything within 20 feet of that mine is gone if it's set off).

In terms of traditional weaponry, Dev does keep a standard-issue sidearm on his person. He has been known to pick up an assault rifle, but why would he use that when he has Death Whistle.

Dev's personal favorite in his arsenal, Death Whistle, is a customized grenade launcher. It is designed primarily to fire slightly amplified fragmentation grenades, but can really house any explosive in Dev's arsenal and launch it a great distance. It has a very distinctive discharging of gas as it fires, hence the name.

Family/Relationship?: Dev's parents are currently deceased. Dev's brother, Wesley, is currently working his way through the Spire's political sphere. Dev's former girlfriend, a Satasi known as Harloine, was one of the few members of the terrorist network that wasn't captured by the authorities. God knows what she's up to.

[User]
Tony's brow knotted slightly as he noted the fault in Luirae's step as he spoke up. He'd been expecting the sadness that came with mentioning Anderson even as indirectly as he could, but he hadn't really prepared himself for her expression at all.

"Yeah, that sounds about right," he replied, his voice betraying more of the sudden wave of emotion he felt. Anderson's death hadn't seemed real until that very moment, and all at once it felt too real. "He is...was...Anderson was a really good man." Tony hadn't expected himself to feel so utterly overwhelmed, but Anderson had been one of the few crewmembers he'd felt at least somewhat open with.

It had all started when Anderson stopped him during a secret and not-quite-allowed smoke break in the cargo hold. Tony had figured it would turn into a lecture about the dangers of an open flame in the middle of a pressurized spacecraft, but instead Anderson started to speak of his daughter at length. It was uncomfortable at first, but eventually Tony warmed up and returned the gesture. He'd opened up to Anderson about his own daughter, his ex-wife, his disgraced career. It became something semi-regular - Anderson would bum a cigarette behind the cover of some cargo, and they'd speak to each other like old drinking buddies. He would miss that. And he never would know now why Anderson had approached him all that time ago. Perhaps he heard of Tony's daughter from another crewmember, or perhaps it was some sort of intuition that brought them together. But it wasn't worth speculating now.

"He has a daughter," he said simply, forcing the emotion out of his voice. "I imagine she will be contacted." Tony's thoughts were, thankfully, interrupted as Rendyl walked into the door, and he stumbled slightly in a half-assed attempted to help her. But she found her bearings more quickly than he could offer any assistance.

She tapped at his shoulder before he could ask if she was alright, and the enthusiasm with which she signed assured him she was just fine.

"Oh, yes, probably," he replied, signing his words to himself as he reminded himself to keep brushing up on his sign. "Doctor, she'd like grilled cheese, if that would be possible. Just bread and cheese." He added the last part for clarification, unsure which sandwiches she had in her repertoire. Personally, he'd probably only ever eaten a grilled cheese a handful of times in his youth. The life of a diplomat's son and, later, a Committee member came with more upscale food than bread and cheese. But, he had to admit, it sounded damn good right now.

Tony settled himself in one of the chairs along the countertop in the kitchen, pulling one out for Rendyl to sit in if she wanted to. He let out a slow breath as he sat down and clasped his hands in front of him on the countertop. His knuckles turned white as he tightened his grip on his hands, but he let it relax slowly as he exhaled again.

"I could really use a fucking nap right now," he muttered, more to himself than to either of the women.

[Assistant]
"Were I not a devoted servant of the Committee in oath and in spirit, I would comment that the councilwoman has all the vibrancy and creativity of stale rainwater, but as it is I would not dream of disrespecting the esteemed councilwoman."

Aamara's words actually made Raymond laugh. It was strange to think that after all that had happened today, and what he did, that he would suddenly be in a such a bright mood. Maybe it was because he was exhausted, maybe he was too used to it... Maybe both. Maybe he just didn't care anymore. Either way, he was glad that the Security Officer was starting to catch on to the banter. It was as if they were all employees talking crap about their managers. Except their bosses ran the galaxy, and could quite possibly send most of them to prison. "Hey, that's an insult to rain water everywhere... You'll have to give them all the respect, I'm not going to be too happy with them."

Raymond waiting for the Security Officer to enter the communications room. They both stepped on the metallic plate on the floor and with a press of the button, like-like holograms filled the room, all tinting white. In front of them was the Galactic Council. Some smiled, some frowned, others simply looked on.

"Captain Chase." G'Pol, the Chairman said lowly. Raymond put a fist over his heart and bowed out of respect. The man had approved of some of Raymond's actions in the past. He knew the side effects of war better than anyone on the Council.

"We just read the report that Officer Tulez submitted." Felix Copper, the Human Representative said. "We understand that the crate was successfully retrieved from the Ulnar?"

"You read the report, Councilman. We found it. With a cost."

"Was the crate damaged?" The Yhei Councilwoman asked.

"Yeah, it was crushed when the Ulnar crashed into our ship and killed the Loadmaster, Eli Anderson--"

"What do you mean it was crushed?" The Forgei Councilwoman and Raymond's least favorite out of the Committee, Bruma spoke.

Raymond clenched his fist to stop it from shaking. "It was destroyed as the Ulnar tried to retrieve it from our docking bay. Anderson risked his life for it, you know. Because he thought it would mean something."

"Please, Captain Chase. How many loadmasters have you had before? He's just a casualty--"

"He had a daughter. He was going to get out of his sentence with Admiral V'Sul's authorization--"

"The box, Captain. How badly was it damaged?" The Furtim spoke quietly. Raymond shook his head. "Enough for us to figure out what was in it." He paused for dramatic effect. "A whole lot of nothing." Some of the Council shifted in their seats. Raymond glanced at Aamara for a second, telling her to play along for now. "You read the mission debrief. I sent what was left of the contents to our science officer for further analysis. There was a lot of metal, glass, and organic residue. With all due respect, what the hell did you guys make us risk out necks for? Some ancient artifacts, some ancestral burial vases?" In Raymond's defense, he wasn't exactly lying about the contents.

"Captain Chase, are you certain that this was the right crate we assigned?" The human councilman spoke once again. "Do we normally mess up, Sir?"

"do you want me to count the ways you have?" Bruma scoffed. "it wasn't me who messed up this time, councilwoman. A good man died going after this box. He wasn't like us."

G'Pol cleared his throat, and looked at Aamara. "Is this all true, Security Officer?"

Raymond let her answer, looking around at the holograms. They didn't need to know the specifics just yet. Something was very fishy about all of this, and he was interested in why exactly they wanted to risk political scrutiny for human trafficking. It was an old instinct that told him to hide Rendyl's status for now. A few more questions for Aamara were asked before ultimately the Council hung up. As soon as they did, Raymond looked at his Security Officer. "Send the real report to the Admiral. Right now she's the only one I trust. Come on, we got other things to attend right now."

-----------------

Raymond entered the lounge to see everyone exhausted, angry, or both. He saw Rae cooking with was a rare thing to see, and Rendyl in there as well. The place was quiet, but Raymond made it to the center of the room, sitting down at the table, and rubbing his eyes. "I just want to say that these last couple of days have been hell on all of us... But at the end of it we nearly made the Ulnar go extinct. Yasaliah, that was some of the best piloting skills I've ever seen, Astrid, Dev, I don't know who else could have made a nuclear weapon in that time, but it'll be another legendary tale that they'll tell about us one day..." Raymond sighed and nodded. "Anderson would have been proud."

"He wanted it to be a secret until after the mission but... He was going to retire. After this mission. He worked something out with the Council, and Admiral T'Sul pulled some strings and he was going to be able to see his daughter again. He gave all to the Monroe. To us. He was rough and could smell like a Space Bear's behind sometimes but he managed to make a connection with all of us. I don't know about you guys, but to me he was a friend. I know I can lose my temper. I can scream, I can punch, I can call everyone names here, but Anderson wouldn't want that... At least, not genuinely. He'd want me to do those things after losing a hand in poker." He smirked slightly. He pulled out a large bottle of alcohol. "T'Veerian bourbon. Legends say its the best tasting stuff in the galaxy before it burns off your taste buds... I say we all grab a seat, all grab a drink, and play some poker and let our anger out that way. In Anderson's honor."

"Who wants to be dealt in? I gotta warn you, I've been practicing. Diaz, look in that cupboard real quick, I think Anderson hid some Forgei cigars in there."

[User]
D E V R O N I A N A R X

Dev gave a solemn nod. With Anderson gone, the demolitions specialist was an island socially. He wasn't exactly popular in any of the departments. Doing the sorts of things he had earned that mistrust. But the Loadmaster was in a similar boat. He was serving his sentence and trying to change to do some good. The topic of Anderson's daughter soured Dev's expression further. He leaned forward from his position to stare at the ground, his lips beginning to curl in anger. The Council. They ordered the mission. They doomed him...

At the sound of the Captain rummaging for something, Dev's face lit up. He rarely got the opportunity to drink, let alone drink anything worth savoring. The demolitions expert needed something to pull him out of this slump. Cards and Bourbon... that would do just the trick. He was the first to stand up, making sure his infamous weapon was secured to his side. "It ain't about the practice, Cap'n. It's about Lady Luck, and nobody is in her favor like I am. She's the only reason I haven't blown any of my damn fingers off yet." He gave a wry smile as he wiggled his digits as he made the joke. Dev sidled up at the table next to the Captain, taking a seat to join in the action.


[System]
Chiaki Nettu
Age: 15
Gender: Female

Personality: Chiaki is calm, poised and elegant. She enjoys dressing in the 'Gothic Lolita' fashion, as she believes it helps her to stand out from her fellow peers. She is caring, to those she trusts, which is only a few selected people. Due to her popularity she has developed a sense of pride, believing in herself more often. Despite all of this, Chiaki has mild anger issues, to the extent where she 'pops off' unleashing a wave of anger upon the person or people that angered her.

Skills & Equipment: Being a model, she is a beautiful girl with many charming qualities and some stunning charisma that just draws people to her. She's also quite fond of Biology and the Human anatomy, you wouldn't know just by looking at her.
She equips herself with a lovely black thorn whip, both for fashion and fending off ugly brutes.

Arcana: Death
Persona: Freyja
Abilities:
- Bufula
- Mudoon
- Poison Arrow

Chiaki was always a kind, happy girl when she was younger, picking flowers, making friends. She believed she had the perfect life. Her mother was of Italian decent, her father was Japanese. She was born in the Tochigi Prefecture. Growing up there she had been introduced to several traditional, non-traditional and foreign practices. Her family only consisted of Her, Mother and Father. Although they were a small family, they succeeded in earning several amounts of income to support themselves. Her Father became a well known 'Waste Management' manager. Her mother took her education as far as possible, leading her into the supreme court where she defends people of all kinds. Poor Chiaki was left on her own, learning to take care of herself as her parents were never around during the day. Once Chiaki had reached her teens, she demanded that her parents pay more attention to her or she would call the authorities alerting them of how she has been mistreated all these years. Her parents agreed and vowed to spend more time with her.

Within the next year her parents became more distant, they would delve into deep arguments, fight all night and day. Chiaki was always the peace maker, she felt responsible, she believed it was her fault that they were fighting.
Once Chiaki had turned fourteen her parents then went through a few more 'rough patches' as they called them, then swiftly divorced and separated the following month. She would bounce from Mother to Father, Father to Mother. She had become sick of it, the life she had once knew was gone, she once again told her parents her feelings, this only angered them, they both agreed that if Chiaki hated them so much, she should go live somewhere else.

Chiaki was horrified, she ran away from the life she had once had, she had contacted a social service, they had her moved from Tochigi to to live with her Grandmother at Tatsumi Port Island. She had become accustomed to life there, she was staying with her Grandmother who had applied her for a modeling job for a magazine, against her will. She became very popular with the 'Goth, Pop and Gothic Lolita' Crowd. Her agent began to insist that she take her popularity to the next step and become a full fledged Idol.. After some convincing from her Grandmother, she agreed to it and was ready to set out on her journey as an up coming Idol. Unfortunately, her life changed once again, as her Grandmother had passed away. She was devastated, the life she had finally become used to, the life that she had created, one of happiness, was shattered.

She had turned fifteen and was attending private schooling but the social services believed it would be better for her if she was moved to live with her Aunt and Uncle in Warakuma, and attend the nearby school, interact with other students on a daily basis, so they enrolled her into the High School.
Having to turn back on her life again, she gave up being an Idol before she could even start, although there is still evidence of her being a model around, you don't even need to look hard enough, after all she is rather popular, if you're into idols that is.

[User]
Shizuka Otonashi || Warakuma Park || May 1 FRI
"Oof! I-It's nice to see you again, Elena-san." Suddenly being hugged by the younger girl, cheeks of the raven haired girl flushed lightly, embarrassed and slightly uncomfortable of the physical contact. Due to her being a timid type of girl, even slight physical contact with girls caused her to fluster, it wasn't necessarily only towards Elena. But even then, this sort of affection was nice to be shown towards her. It felt as if she was accepted by the person, even if little.

"A-Are you certain he's alright...? We-Well, if you insist." Looking up at the taller student to inspect if any visible injury was found on Alexei, Shizuka's hazel eyes peeked behind her dark bangs. With her offer of a band aid being turned down and seeing no visible marks on the Dragunov, the female student placed it back into her purse while attempting to calm herself down. Once she was being suggested to retry at her attempt at the coin toss, she felt heat upon her cheeks once more feeling abashed at her earlier failure. "I-I suppose so... If it does truly grant happiness as the rumors have said, it'll be worth another try." With a bashful smile, Shizuka nodded and picked the coin from the other's hand.

Once again, the girl turned her back towards the fountain with the 100 yen in hand. Her hidden eyes shut closed in concentration, her mind solely thinking about the courage she needed and the understanding from the people she hoped for. At the moment she was about to toss the coin backwards into the fountain, "MOTHA FUDGING HELL." Greatly startled by the sudden English shouting, Shizuka's aim towards the fountain missed once more and flew towards the new foreign male, bonking him on the head. Quickly turning to the source of the voice, she covered her mouth to soften her gasp at the sight of the boy with a bleeding nose and her coin atop his head.

"W-Why must this keep on happening?" She was finally done trying this dumb rumor. It was becoming more of a curse with how she keeps clumsily hitting people with the coin, it was definitely not worth it anymore. Rushing at the fallen boy's side, she panicked while quickly trying to form words in English that she could recall as of now. "U-Uh, I-I am bery sory fo disu a-akshidento. Ma-May I herup you?" Pronunciation definitely needed work but Shizuka hoped the foreign male would understand what she was trying to convey. Whether he understood it or not, perhaps using gestures was easier, bending down, she held an open hand towards the boy.

[Assistant]
Matthew Harvester || the boy who tripped

*donk* "WHA" As Matt rolled on the floor he felt something hit his head. Trying to assess what had hit him Matt decided to stop rolling around like an idiot though he spent the next few seconds in a daze after noticing a coin? was on his head and hearing a girl try to speak to him.
To be perfectly honest he didn't understand anything she said so he stared at the girl for a few seconds before he had a stupid revelation.

Suddenly Matt jumped up yelling "[OH GOD ITS A CUTE LITTLE ANGEL AM I DEAD!?]" Of course screaming such a thing suddenly would probably startle anyone so realizing this Matt suddenly got embarrassed.
"er... sorry for that i tend to yell stupid things when shocked... of course I'm not dead.... i think" Scratching the back of his head Matt laughed awkwardly as he noticed his surroundings... there where people around... looking at him... they must all think im some kind of idiot...
ok being an idiot wasn't getting anyone anywhere anytime soon so Matt coughed and decided to try and blow over the situation.
"um thanks for seeing if i was ok? So this is kinda awkward soooo... The names Matthew Harvester nice to meet ya'll even in this weird situation hahahaaa" Matt started scratching the back of his head again

[User]
Noboru Yamamoto-Thursday, May 1st, 2015

Noboru was worried. If those photos got around to the wrong person, they would cause a lot of trouble. But there was nothing he could do now. It was already set in motion. Akari was gonna fuck his life up for the next few weeks with this. If that wasn't bad enough, some random stranger came up to him. He introduced himself, as someone called Tanaka Toma.

"Oh uh, hey. I didn't recognize who you were at first, Aiko talks about you occasionally. You're his track running friend right? Nice to meet you. No, uh, nothing is the problem. I was just a bit surprised at something. It's gone now, nothing major.

Noboru was uncomfortable. He didn't know how to talk to any of his siblings' friends. He didn't much care to, mostly to not get involved with his siblings. But if Aiko was having this sudden change of heart, might as well be friendly to his friends as well.

"So, uhhh, you're Aiko's friend? Nice to meet you. If you didn't notice, Aiko doesn't tend to have many friends. Mostly due to his up front rudeness about himself. Glad you fought through that silly facade however. He needs some friends. So ummm, was there something else to ask?"

Noboru's feet tapped the ground, he was nervous. It felt awkward talking to someone his brother had a crush on, but that was something he wouldn't spoil.

[Assistant]
Game Over Arcade
"I'm going to dominate you!" Shouted her cousin, with a very eager and... frightening expression on her face... Chiaki could feel her defeat hanging over her head before they even began to play any games. With today's new age technology the arcade require you place virtual tokens on key cards that you swipe on any machine you wish to play. Thankfully, Chiaki and Ayano had brought along some extra money for today... Although Chiaki hoped Ayano wasn't blowing all of her money, though it did seem like she was...

The two girls enjoyed several different varieties, and of course, Chiaki failed miserably at most every one of them and was too scared to try any of the horror simulator games, such as 'Corpse Manor' & 'Horror House 4D' where you sat in a booth and had to wear special 3D glasses, she feared a heart attack going near the booths themselves. Chiaki was rather fond of her bonding time with her cousin, it was most likely one of the most precious times while staying in Warakuma...

At the racing simulators
"Oh goodness me, I seem to have crashed into a competitor of mine!"

At the fighting game section
There was a rather large group of people, watching the duo fight, it seemed as if perhaps they had arrived just after some sort of competition, pity Ayano didn't get to participate, although exhibition matches were still allowed and it seemed as if she was enjoying the constant thrashing of Chiaki in the game.

"Oh me oh my! I've lost again! Can't you cut me some slack Aya-chan? I've never even played this type of game before!"
A few of the boys in the crowed were cheering for Chiaki regardless of how poorly at the game she was doing, it was mainly due to her popularity at school.
After the duo duked it out at the fighting arcade machines, Chiaki swiftly pulled Ayano over to the rhythm games. These were games she was all too familiar with, her career as a model that pushed her into becoming an idol for some short time really aided her in her miraculous victories, although Ayano started off bad at first, she quickly picked up the pace and learned how to get a really powerful combo stringing along. The crowd from earlier also followed to the two to this area and watched them dance battle. Whilst most were cheering for Chiaki, small cries for Ayano were even heard amongst the cheers.

"Wow! What an amazing day we had huh? I actually really enjoyed myself, perhaps we should come here more often?" Joyfully said Chiaki as her and Ayano left the Arcade. Whilst they waited for their Taxi to arrive and return them to the inn, Chiaki couldn't help but feel as if something, or someone was watching her. Call it womans intuition, if you must. She shrugged it off as nothing and returned to the inn with Ayano, all the while chatting with her about their day during the trip back.

Warakuma Shopping Complex

Today the shopping complex had a new Idol group performing. 'Azure 5' they were called. Chiaki new who exactly they were, the newest group from Tokyo who were doing poorly, due to their music not hitting high enough in the charts, also, her replacement. This group took over Chiaki as an Idol due to her being unable to fully become one when she moved to Warakuma. She almost chuckled. As awful as it was to think lightly of their situation, for some reason she was happy they weren't a large success.
Looking over at Ayano, it didn't appear as if she particularly liked the group or the song they were singing.
"I'll go get us some ice cream, just a moment Aya-chan, keep an eye on their cute dresses, that's probably the best thing about them hahaha..." Chiaki left after making her poorly tasting comment. It only took a moment to get through the crowd and find a vendor selling food, unfortunately, no ice cream, the two would have to settle for some colourful candy in a bag. Whilst she was away, the crowd seemed to have become alot thicker, not anybody she recognized from school, they must have been from Tokyo, followers of the group she assumed. Not a friendly looking bunch... Deciding to take a small detour, she walked around the outskirts of the crowd to try and find an opening towards Ayano...

It was very sudden, but she heard somebody call out her name... It was the last thing she could remember before losing all her energy, dropping the snacks on the ground and slumping into somebodies arms... Was it their arms?... Could it have been a bag?... Was it just a single person?... Confused and drifting into a slumber, Chiaki had passed out and was being taken somewhere...


[System]
A G E
Twenty Four
B I R T H D A Y
Winter, Day 9
G E N D E R
Male
O C C U P A T I O N
Cafe Owner

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P E R S O N A L I T Y T R A I T S
Idealistic, Prideful, Tenacious, Jokester, Forgetful, Astute
F A V O R I T E S E A S O N
Winter
F A V O R I T E C O L O R
Sienna
F A V O R I T E F O O D
Smoked Salmon
L I K E S
Cooking, Puns and Jokes, Coffee, a Light Summer Breeze, Dogs, and Karaoke.
D I S L I K E S
Roosters, Sleeping in, Crows, Pessimism, Big Companies, Large Messes.
D O Y O U B E L I E V E I N M A G I C ?
He mainly believes in the rot, having felt he saw its effects on his family when it first started showing up and blaming it for their sudden interest to leave their home town. Because of that, he doesn't doubt that the other things exist either, and even sends prayers to the Goddess from time to time.

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F A M I L Y M E M B E R S
Father: Quinten Rivers - Previous Cafe Owner - Moved to the city
Mother: Vanessa Rivers - Previous Cafe Owner/Chef - Moved to the city
Brother: Devon Rivers - Previous Cafe employee - Moved to the city
Dog: Nanner - Best french bulldog - Moved to city with parents
A N I M A L F R I E N D S
He used to take care of his dog Nanner until his parents took him with them when they left.
H O M E L I F E
Living in establishment 11, the two story building has housing on the top floor with the cafe on the bottom, the stairs blocked off from customers due to being in the back where only Grayon has access to it, locked behind a door. The residence upstairs is almost akin to a studio apartment, with it being fairly open save for the bathroom.

The Wide Awake Cafe has been a family establishment for generations, and Grayson ultimately took up the mantle of being its owner out of a sense of pride and respect for the place in his parent's absence. While there is a large emphasis on coffee, he does his best to have a wide variety of snacks and main meals for customers and even expanded his menu at the cost of being the only one who works there now. It's a lot to clean, but he wouldn't be here if he wasn't up to the challenge.
S T O R Y
The Rivers family has been in Valbree Village for several generations starting with Grayon's great great grandfather, and the story goes that they built themselves a simple cafe to share their love of food and drinks to the town. His great grandfather took it upon himself to renovate the place when he got ownership, expanding the cafe's size slightly and renovating the feel of the place so that it felt more inviting and homely. Grayon's grandfather managed to pull in new supplies for use, and it seemed that things could only go up when Grayon's own father took charge, his wife happy to assist him.

Together in Valbree, they had vowed to make sure the cafe would prosper, and for a time, it did. While they were happy, they had two sons,
 Grayson as the eldest and 5 years later Devon. Some of Grayson's earliest memories were in that cafe, watching customers with eager eyes and soaking in everything he could about the place. He wanted to learn more, always mesmerized at how the place had grown through the generations and attentively paying attention as to how to keep the place successful. Grayson aspired to keep up the family tradition,and they couldn't be happier. Devon was slightly invested in the place, but he was always more scholarly and always felt like a big fish in a small pond, desiring to leave the moment he could.

Grayson had no such ambition for departure, feeling right at home in his home town. When he turned 18, they decided to grant him more responsibility and have him act as the owner with their supervision, and he was more than eager to. He didn't do anything drastic, but he learned how to keep the place alive.

When BigCo came a year ago and the rot came, he noticed his parents take a large shift from their old ways, progressively getting worse and worst of all, getting greedy. They wanted to sell the cafe to BigCo and abandon Valbree Village, and Grayson refused immediately. The decision sparked a split between the family, and it didn't help that Devon sided with his parents. They lashed out at Grayson, spouting that the cafe needed to be put down and that his place was no longer of use, but he defiantly refused their requests. Angered and upset, the trio left, leaving Grayson alone to tend to the cafe as the sole owner a year ago.

He silently sent a prayer that day to the Goddess to help him.

[User]
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Javier poured himself a cup of coffee as he pressed the play button on the messaging machine. A few messages about reservations popped up and Javier wrote them down nearby in a small agenda. Things were normal until he heard's the mayor's message about the potluck happening. "Guy just wants another bottle of wine, hmmph".

He walked out of his living area which was located right infront of the desk to look around to it. The morning newspaper had just arrived, well he was subscribed to a few editions of it really, to give his customer's a sense of variety. He grabbed the top one, being his favorite and the one his brother worked at: "The City Times". On it was another legal battle that BigCo was incorporated into. A local village that was a few hours away from Javier's was fighting a construction notice by BigCo to build a new big box store. The legal battle went on for years and years until finally, it ended with BigCo agreeing to settle. It was a shame really Javier thought, villages are often thrown under the bus knowing that even if they reject BigCo, they'll simply come back with more money until someone gives the greenlight.

Javier looked at the clock for a moment, before he went towards a red book labelled "Ledger and Guest list". Javier opened it up and briefly skimmed it over before he nodded to himself. He then dialed every phone at the hotel and left a convenient message. " Good Morning to you all, Javier speaking, and you need to pay up if your staying for this upcoming week. Come to the main desk before Tuesday evening and pay. Other then that, food service resumes normally today. Ask the front desk for the specials." stated Javier before releasing the button. Javier then nodded towards Eugene, his assistant to the man the front desk. He walked out of the inn and simply proceeded to go to the general store, to place an order for some goods.

[Assistant]
Hope, one of the younger members of the community at the age of eighteen, had made her way down the old dirt road that lead in to the village. As was her typical routine she walked her usual route at an extremely leisurely pace-keeping closer to the river than the treeline of the woods she snapped a few pictures of the occasional fish breaking the surface or when she thought the sun was hitting the water just right. Using an old collapsible Polaroid camera strung around her neck she was given the instant gratification of being able to hold a physical copy of the moment in time she had just captured on camera.

Those that knew her in Valbree were well aware she wore the aforementioned camera almost everywhere; even more gossiped about thought, and rightly so, was her propensity to try and photograph people without them knowing. She always claimed it was to capture the real essence of a moment but on more than one occasion it has gotten her in varying degrees of trouble.

As always upon entering the village proper she began passing out greetings followed with a genuine smile to any and all she passed: she also did her best to specifically say "Happy New Years!" as often as she could. Known by most as an extreme extrovert with an overly positive outlook on almost everything while retaining a decently witty and dry sense of humor-especially when it came to her brother.

She had been mulling over whether or not she wanted to stop in for a quick coffee and hello at the cafe or pop in to Abernova's general goods to restock her now depleted glitter supply: being an item of particular low demand within the overall town the only real place to get her crafting supplies was in fact Abernovas. Because of that reason Hope had spent longer than she remembered trying to snap a photo of, in her opinion, the rather grumpy Luna Abernova while in her natural habitat.

The decision on where to go was quickly made for her as she watched Javier make his way into Abernova's-spur of the moment she decided she could sneak in on the same bell ding the would signify Javier entering the store. From there she just had to have a quick trigger finger.

Camera ready in hand Hope threw caution to the wind and followed Javier's footsteps into the shop before the door was able to close. "Say cheese!!" Wasting no time she took the first picture she could with a bright flash that was quickly followed by the noisy whizzing and whirling of tiny gears spitting the image out of the front of the camera.

Red stared in disbelief at the glowing blue screen in his hand; he was genuinley surprised by both the speed Waconia had answered and the very fact that she had answered at all. He could almost hear her sighing in between messages before choseing to be the bigger person-Red just hoped he could do the same.

He took another swig from his bottle.

After a moment of thought his fingers slowly played across his keypad in a manner that made it clear he was not used to texting.

Mulling it over for a minute he reread the message a few times before pressing send, all the while secure in the belief (somewhat drunkenly) he had definitely not come across as specifically wanting to talk to or see Waconia. Having grown up with each other for almost their whole lives she probably found the attempt at deception laughable.

[User]
Grayson was busy writing down inventory, taking note of how much of his current dry goods he still had on the shelves when he suddenly heard the ding of a bell come from the front door. His first instinct was that it had to be someone who didn't have their own business to attend to, but he supposed they could have taken the holiday off, so that didn't really help in the end. Setting down the bright yellow notepad he had on the counter, he turned in the direction of the door to face his customer.

Immediately his face began to beam at the sight of someone extremely unexpected, forcing him to take a second and regain his composure. It wasn't often, or well, ever that someone so new would come to the café before Grayson had the pleasure of meeting them beforehand. What a way to start the new year! It was definitely a better surprise than the Mayor's phone call where he bragged through a short speech. If only the first signs of spring showed up somewhere else, it would have been a nice change of pace and taken the mayor's narcissism down a peg.

Regardless, thinking about the Mayor was definitely not important right now, and he reached under the counter for a white paper notepad for taking orders, doing his best to contain the excited smile he had as the new person spoke.

"Of course of course! Ahem, take a seat at one of the booths or take a chair here at the counter! If you're looking for a brief menu, above the counter has several of the more popular breakfast and lunch items on the blackboard. The other one has several types of coffee that you can choose from. Overall though, I have a much more broad selection than that, so if what you want isn't on there, don't hesitate to ask!" He replied, feeling it was rather a mouthful and a bit too much to take in at once, but it just felt like a momentous occasion that needed a long explanation.

It was so amazing he didn't notice the local carpenter, Robin, enter, and when she suddenly bumped into the new guy after slipping. His eyes widened in shock for a brief second, feeling it had to be his fault. Was the floor still wet from his mopping from last night? Wait, they couldn't be, he knew it was dry... It made him slightly question how clumsy Robin was. He didn't really know her like he knew some of the others as she was a bit reclusive, but he supposed in the end he was just glad to have business and her company. And seeing as she seemed to wait for the new person to order, Grayson turned his attention back to him.

"Anyway... It's nice to see such a new face in town! We don't get visitors or the like that much. In any case, just order whenever you're ready and don't be afraid to ask any questions too!"


[System]
Age: 15

Godly parent: Artemis

Background:

Joanne is a half-wolf, half-human child of Artemis fashioned out of the bones and flesh of a dead she-wolf, and imbued it with part of the Goddess' spirit. Of course, Artemis couldn't keep the baby girl she had created, but she did know of a good family for her. Soon a little girl baby was found at the doorstep of and later adopted by Scott Fountain, Alaska State Police and Michelle Fountain, Scott's older sister, and a practicing veterinarian.

Joanne lived in the city of Lakes, Alaska. From an early age, Joanne seemed to have a special bond with the outdoors. She could handle a rifle with ease, shoot a bow with an unbelievable level of accuracy, and loved to hike and camp with her dad and aunt. She was a slightly average student but struggled with learning disabilities that often frustrated her. But on the athletic field and rifle range, she really shined, particularly in running, and cross-country skiing. By middle school, Joanne was successfully competing in state archery, biathlon and cross country skiing competitions, and there was serious talk of her going to the Olympics someday.

Joanne was always easy going, and she had a few friends in school. But she really didn't hang out too much and generally did better with dogs than people. She often helped out at her aunt's clinic and nearby animal shelter. When not working, studying or competing, Joanne preferred to spend her time outside on long hikes or camping. It was during one of her hikes that she found a lone gray wolf cub clinging for dear life to a small log in the middle of a cold stream. Headless of her own safety, Joanne waded into the stream and plucked the cub from danger, suffering a torrent of licks from the very grateful cub in the process. Taking the cub home, and with help from her aunt, Joanne nursed it back to full health. In the process girl and wolf bonded. Joanne named the cub Smoke after her gray and white fur.

At first, Joanne's aunt and father wanted to return Smoke to the wild as soon as possible since Gray Wolves do not really make good pets. But this wolf was clearly different, for it took Joanne's commands easily, and became surprisingly well domesticated. It was as if wolf and girl were made for each other and Joanne's aunt and father eventually relented.

It was the summer of Joanne's second year in high school that her life changed forever. Returning from an early morning walk, she could see smoke rising from where her house was. She then heard multiple gunshots. Joanne and Smoke rushed home to find the house on fire and her father and aunt torn apart and left for dead in pools of their own blood.

Falling to her knees in grief, it was Smoke's growling that shook her out of her grief to notice some sort of monster rushing towards them. Smoke leapt at it, but was batted away. The monster lunged towards Joanne, and she barely managed to roll out of the way of its claws. Grabbing her hunting bow as she rolled, Joanne came up on her knee and in one swift motion nocked three arrows at once and let them fly. The broad hunting arrowheads ripped into the monster's throat. Surprised and moaning in pain, the monster took a step away from Joanne, only to find itself struck again and again by a quick succession of arrows. Soon a cluster of arrows was in the creature's neck. The creature reached up to try to pull them out, but each time it did, it was replaced by another fired from Joanne's bow. Eventually it was just too much and the monster crashed to the ground, dead.

After taking a few deep breaths to calm down. Joanne knelt before the now dead creature to make sure it was truly dead. She had absolutely no idea what it was, but she blessed her decision to bring her bow with her that morning. Smoke seemed ok, perhaps only her pride was hurt from getting batted aside

Smoke bound up to her mistress and gave her a quick nuzzle, as if to ask if Joanne was ok. She was not. Joanne turned to what was left of her family and broke down crying. Smoke sat next to her and leaned in a bit to comfort her mistress. Wolf and girl sat this way for what seemed to be a long time before two female Hunters appeared. They had been sent to rescue Joanne from that monster, and were stunned to find she had killed it alone. As gently as they could they could, they informed Joanne that she was in further danger and she needed to leave, now. Sirens could now be heard in the distance, probably the local sheriff and the fire rescue services, the hunters realized. Glumly nodding her assent, Joanne bid farewell to her father and aunt. The two hunters pulled Joanne to her feet and with Smoke trailing closely behind, all four disappeared scant seconds before the first fire truck arrived at the burning cabin.

Powers:

Skin of Nature: Wild animals will take no notice of Joanne and she can move through underbrush with ease, and with high degree of silence and stealth. Joanne will not leave any tracks unless she wishes to.

Natural Hunter: Joanne has the predatory instincts of a gray wolf, making her highly skilled in hunting, tracking, and reading how "prey" will react. Joanne's senses are enhanced to canine levels. She can see in the dark, track and differentiate between different scents and has enhanced levels of hearing.

Alpha Female: Joanne has the ability to communicate with and command canines of any species. She cannot command police or similarly trained dogs, but they will generally be indifferent to her presence.

Weapon or gifts from godly parent:

Joanne has a modern compound hunting bow that she can shoot with a superhuman level of accuracy. She received it as a birthday present from her father last year. The woman behind the counter said it would be perfect for Joanne.

Note: Smoke is Joanne's friend and companion out her own free will, and Joanne would never dare attempt to "command" Smoke unless circumstances were dire. The two share an empathic link and know each other's feelings. Though she appears to be a regular adolescent grey wolf, Smoke is smarter (same as an Australian Shepard), and can endure more punishment than a normal wolf.

[User] Devon clenches his hand as the emblem of flame sears into his fist, and he hisses at the pain. What in Hades's name was that? He looks around the camp, searching for the others that were burned by the strange prophecy. Emperor's gain? What emperor? He backs into a shadow, which makes him feel a little safer, a bit more powerful. Does this mean I have to talk to other people? He shakes his head, and walks off to the training grounds, grabs his scythe out of the shadows, and practices his forms. Left, right, sweep, overhand cut, sideswipe, block. What did that prophecy mean? He trains until he is exhausted from swinging his scythe around, and lets it go to fade back into the shadows. He shakes his head, and sits down in the grass.

[Assistant]
As everyone gathered in the war room Chiron rolled in his wheelchair. Syrus guessed it was to have better access to the house and it's rooms but never the less it was convenient. Chiron pulled up to the table and looked around. "Well each of you were called here due to the event that transpired this evening. It seems Hecate has seen something in the door of ways or she would not have used a mortal to issue a prophecy quest which I spoke to Miss Dare about in the other room. It seems her power isn't bound by the triumvirate which is a good thing." He cleared his throat. "What I'm about to tell you all involves a certain demigod during the second giants war. This demigod traversed Tartarus and ended up in a realm ruled by Nyx. We had hoped that nothing would come of what the demigod did to Nyx but it seems that luck is not on our side. The beginning of the prophecy is a warning that if we don't stop Nyx's husband it will be nothing compared to what anything else we have faced. Now the rest I am unsure of but we can consult with the Romans. Sadly we cannot contact them and have no way for you to travel there that wouldn't get you killed." Syrus raised a hand.

"Sir I can get us there." He looked around at every one. "I can mistwalk and bring others with me. I passed out this morning because I had already expended to much energy from..." he stopped and looked at Joanne but then decided to continue as they needed to know "...hunting a Naga Umbra." Chiron stared and Redwood went pale.

"If you think you can do it then it would be a bad idea. Miss Dare need to go with you as well to confer with Ella. I need you all to realize that this is a huge deal and if you all don't take this seriously you might die." A grave silence fell over the room. Before Redwood began.

"You all should get some rest and set out in the morning we will have bags of food packed for you and other provisions. Please rest. That is all, you may turn in to your cabins now."

Syrus sat waiting to see if others would protest or have anything to say before he moved.

[User] Devon stands and walks off to the Big House. Maybe Chiron would know about what happened to him. He stalks through the camp, careful to stay in the shadows, avoiding all living contact, and then walks up to the Big House. He looks around, and stops, hearing talking. "-someone wrote down what she said." What who said? Does this have to do with that strange fire burning my hand, or is it something else? I know little to nothing about this world, what am I even doing here? He sneaks into the room, hiding in the darkness, and waits for them to stop talking.

[Assistant]
Joanne came up to Syrus, Smoke trailing a few feet away. She didn't get a chance to speak to him back in the cafeteria after he had apologized for hurting her. They had all been whisked away too quickly for that.

"Syrus…" she began. "You don't have to apologize for what happened earlier today, it was clearly far beyond your control. I don't hold it against you in the least. But now we are all in this together, and you will have my full support, no matter what."

Joanne smiled. "You are brave without bounds Syrus. I see it, we all do. You just don't believe it yet." She paused. "I just wish we had met under different circumstances, not like this…not preparing for war."

Joanne leaned in, embraced him and gave Syrus a kiss on the cheek. "For luck," she said. Syrus stood transfixed by the kiss as he watched Joanne and Smoke leave the war room.

Joanne walked back to her cabin alone, save Smoke. She was deep in thought when she feet a presence near her…following her, but one not easy to define. Joanne grew uneasy, a mood matched by Smoke. At first she hurried onwards to her cabin and the Hunters. But the feeling never left her, and indeed grew stronger the closer she got to her cabin. Finally, just as she was about to enter a clearing, Joanne decided this game, whatever it was, had to end. She quickly drew and nocked an arrow on her bow, and aimed at a shadow under a nearby tree. Smoke stood before her growling, her hackles up.

"Show yourself, whomever you are!" Joanne said.

She was shocked to see a figure, dressed in a white tunic, leather boots and bracers. Covering her was a green hunters cloak with the hood pulled over her face and on her back was a quiver full of arrows

She was tall and and well-built, and moved with the ease of a person long used to being in the woods. She was armed with a bow and dagger, but kept her hands well away from both. The figure stopped a few feet away from Joanne and pulled the hood back revealing a kind face framed by shoulder-length raven-black hair and striking silver-grey eyes.

Joanne did a double take and quickly lowered her bow. Even if she had never seen her before, it was almost instinctual that she knew who this woman was.

"Mother?" Joanne whispered in near disbelief.

"Yes, my daughter," Artemis said with a smile. The goddess knelt down as Joanne ran to her and wrapped her up in a tight motherly embrace. Joanne started to cry on her mother's shoulder, from joy, or sadness Artemis could not tell. But the Goddess was happy and relieved Joanne had not rejected her outright from the moment both laid eyes on each other.

Artemis soothed her daughter and after a few moments Joanne stopped crying. Artemis looked at Joanne, her expression touched with sadness. "As happy as I am to see you, Joanne I am sorry you had to learn of your heritage by the loss of your parents. But there was nothing I could do to save them, though I tried."

Joanne looked at Artemis. "I know mother, somehow I know. And it's ok."

Artemis noodled. "I have watched you grow into a strong young woman from afar, my daughter. I so wanted to visit you, to speak to you, to touch you. But until now, I could not risk that."

The goddess stood up and took a regal bearing, "But circumstanced have changed. Come, we have much to discuss before your trials start tomorrow," Artemis said., She held her hand out to Joanne, who took it.

With the other Artemis beckoned Smoke to her side. Smoke came over sat beside her. She looked up at Artemis who grinned and stroked the wolf's head lovingly.

"I thank you Smoke for watching after my daughter all these years, and for being her friend," she said.

Joanne looked at her mother with only mild surprise. "You sent her to me, didn't you." It was not a question, rather a statement of fact

Artemis nodded. "I knew that if I couldn't be there, at least I could send somebody I trusted to help watch over you as you grew into womanhood."

The three walked off into the forest and disappeared from view.


[System]
The Rook
Nickname: Rook

Race: Human

Gender: Male

Ethnicity: Mixed, White/Afro-Caribbean

Height: 6ft 2"

Weight: 145kg, 165-170kg in full kit.

Appearance: Raymond has a bulky build, wide shouldered with powerful legs, muscled arms and a barrelled chest. He has the build of a power lifter rather than a body builder. His head is completely bald and his eyes are sunken, he is not a very attractive man, but neither is he particularly ugly. His nose has obviously been broken at some point in the past and his forehead is marked with a nasty scar, but his face is otherwise unremarkable.

Physical Capabilities:

Strength: Dead-Lift 1000 pounds from the ground, with effort, his physical strength is around human peak.
Speed: 14 mph in a straight sprint in full armour, average acceleration and stopping distance.
Endurance: Fifteen minutes of high level activity
Durability: High pain tolerance, particularly durable bones, strong boxer's chin, human peak.
Reflex: Human Peak

Equipment:

Ballistic Face Mask: Black and red, featuring bullet-proof smear-resistant, light resistant, glass lenses and micro-gauze under the breathing holes which filters the majority of airborne pollutants. Made of Kevlar and padded to resist even significant blunt force impacts, provides little protection to the back of the head however, which is only covered by a red balaclava.

Tactical Vest: Soft armour which incorporates coated and laminated para-aramid textiles in addition to the ordinary Kevlar weave, providing additional protection from melee implements in the chest area, covers the groin and most of the neck, though there is a narrow strip of skin between his mask and vest unprotected.

Elbow Pads

Knee Pads

Shin Pads

Tactical Shirt and Trousers, black colouration, tough but insignificant as armour, mostly stylistic.

Kevlar Gloves: Metal coated on the knuckles for more wallop.

Steel toe-capped military boots

Holsters: Rook keeps his shotgun in a specialised holster on his right leg and his pistol over his chest in a holster with a tricky design to its safety strap that requires some finesse to undo. It would be difficult for an enemy to steal his weapons, especially in the heat of combat, unless the straps were untied. His baton is kept on his left hip, his magazines, explosives and flash bangs are in his chest pockets and his bean-bag rounds are on his belt.

Full length (Head to knee) electric/stun riot-shield, black and red motif, transparent outer rectangle, half minute battery life, audible sound and visible electric current from the face of the shield half a second before charged, rim is also electrified. 3 milliamps, 1.5mil volts maximum charge, capable of momentarily disabling a limb, or briefly stunning an enemy should it make contact with the CNS. The blacked out square in the middle is marked with a red chess piece, the rook, which can also conceal body movements.

Light Weight Mini-Bang®, Model 7290ML: Debilitating flash grenade, causes blindness and momentary loss of balance/hearing for three to five seconds after direct exposure, proximity can exasperate these effects.

Stingball Grenade: Minor explosive that launches rubber balls, used in crowd control, non-lethal but exceedingly painful, especially within a ten-foot radius of the blast.

Weapons:

Twenty-six-inch steel stun baton, electrified to half way down the shaft, concentrated on the end. Thirty seconds battery life, capable of disabling a limb on contact, causes wide-spread paralysis for a short period on contact with the central nervous system (neck, spine, head etc). Can be used like a standard steel baton fairly effectively once de-charged.

Double Barrel Sawn off Shotgun: Equipped with bean-bag rounds, eight extra shells kept on his belt.

TMP Pistol Pepper Ball Pistol: 8 round magazine, two additional magazines. The rounds cause bruising and kinetic impact and release irritants into the air which can reduce vision and cognitive function for a few seconds, cumulative exposure is required for significant effect. Equipped with a tactical strobe light under the barrel, which in low light conditions acts as a torch and also makes looking straight at the user difficult and debilitating, thirty second high intensity battery, ten minute low intensity use.

Profile: Rook is a high ranking member of the Kingdom Merc Group, currently hired for insidious purposes, he has decided to take the opportunity to advertise the group while fighting on the public stage of the GCL.

The man is a bit of a mystery, on the surface, he seems like a cock-sure brawler with big muscles but not much going on upstairs. Perhaps there's more to him than that. He seems to really enjoy mangoes.

[User]
Down one of the many side streets in the bustling city of Mekkina there was a very large man over-dressed for an ordinary stroll. The mask sat up on his head allowed easy access for the mango he was currently devouring with strong white teeth, while his mixed Afro-Caribbean-Caucasian heritage was plain on his rather unattractive face. One look at him and you'd think 'bruiser' or maybe 'merc' and you'd be right on the money both times. He was obviously ready for something, because his large six foot two form was donned in Kevlar vest and army fatigues, he had a pistol over his chest, a shotty at his hip, and a baton on the other. Not to mention, he was carrying a damn riot shield for some reason.

The gruesome slurping sound echoed through the otherwise empty side street, passer-by's giving him a wide berth. He dropped the husk of the fruit to the ground and looked around, sunken eyes staring down the street at an individual who had just crossed the main road. Unmistakable, in his lack of attire and his marked hands and forearms, it was Quebra Carolos. The armoured man began moving, tipping his mask back down across his face, revealing the red motif on the otherwise black exterior, the Rook. His shield bore the same mark, as did he.

Rook began walking down the side street at a leisurely pace. He didn't feel any need to hurry, after all, he could always call the wrestler back if he got too far ahead. This was not a man inclined to run from a fight, even if it were one he was not expecting. The better question was whether his so-called powers would be a match for strength of arms and some modern explosives, flash and rubber-balls to be exact. That was what Rook was interested to find out, of a sort. Though honestly, this work was small-fry, more of an appetiser before the main course. GCL was his goal.

"Oi, mate." He called in his thick British baritone. He was stood in the centre of the main street behind Quebra and the plaza, his feet set, the mask concealing his features. "Quebra, you've pissed off the wrong people. I'm here to teach you a lesson." His shield at his side, the shotty was in plain view as he hefted it out of its holster and onto his shoulder, revealing it to be a sawn-off. "Nothing personal mate, but I'm gunna be beating you up, don't worry though I won't kill you or nothin."

[Assistant]
Not once in the two months of his travel had he fought for an audience, and returning back to the scene had him consumed by anticipation since he set his foot out the motel's door. Reminiscing his past fights in the ring and cherry-picking the moves he wanted most to perform on his opponents tonight - preferably, something with an oomph, a high-octane bone-busting crowd pleaser - Quebra failed to notice his would be assailant, up until the point when his train of thought was rudely interrupted by the bellowing rumble of Rook's voice.

Rather than stopping immediately, he gradually slowed his steps down from his brisk powerwalk towards a halt. Within the few moments this took him, Quebra snapped himself out of the sudden stupor, and the next second, was already diving into action: the distance from which the voice came was grounds enough to make the first few decisions of the fight.

It'd be far more rational to avoid the conflict, perhaps even run. Nobody was going to pay him to fight Rook, but the risk of being injured - well, it was directly implied in his assailant's words. With a dire need for money and time running short thanks to him taking this detour to Mekkina after all, all efforts were best saved for brawling in the ring, earning a quick buck and proceeding on towards his goal, all for the price of gagging pride just on this one occasion.

Such reasoning only seemed natural in Quebra's position; his thinking was different, however. Seeing this as a string of foul fate woven into the thread of his life by the Moirai, the champion took it not an aggregate of unfortunate circumstances, but as a spit in the face from the higher forces themselves - a challenge to overcome in order to once again triumph as a man of his own will. The man calling out to him, threatening to ruin any chance the wrestler had left in getting to Khaerros in time - he was but the inherent malice of the world given physical form, same as any other mortal, becoming a puppet to its laws. Quebra would be defiant in standing his ground.

Turning in Rook's direction, the wrestler took a bladed stance, left side to the fore, narrowing his profile to provide a smaller target, should an exchange of projectiles occur, and started pumping out his liquid armor, covering all but lower arms and face, the transparent ooze bleeding over even onto his clean-shaved scalp, compensating for his current lack of head gear. Afterwards, he'd start preparing his offense too - attached to the inside of his right forearm, a few sprouts of crystal would begin forming into a sharp-edged disc, Quebra picking second-grade quality for a balance between mass and timeliness.

As he performed all of the above, his eyes locked onto the man cockily promising him punishment, Quebra curious to see what made him so confident about beating down a master of the craft. Unfortunately, what he saw wasn't reassuring: a hulk of a man taller and bulkier than him - which would be a nuisance of its own already - wielding a shield, paired, worst of all, with a firearm. Familiar with the concept, he responded with snark to the mercenary's words: "Not here to kill me? Fancy hearing that from a man with a gun." It wasn't to just exchange banter, however - the response he was trying to illicit could clarify whether it was lead loaded in the barrel, or something a notch less lethal. If not, then there was one more thing that could be telling: someone who only needs to bruise their target up would only even aim a gunshot for the feet if it has the potential to kill; if the merc aimed higher, then either he was lying about his intent, or the rounds weren't metal after all.

The battle hadn't started just yet, tension slowly edged towards an adrenaline-pumped plummet; and the breaking point Quebra was waiting for would be the moment the Rook dropped the gun off his shoulder. Then, they'd both be safe to say it had begun.

[10/10 to 5/10 Ki] (-3; -2)

[User]
Rook would have grinned at the man if he wasn't wearing a mask, in fact, he still did anyway. The man was going to get his wish, in a sense, because by-passers were starting to give the duo a wide berth, and many more were stopping to watch the show. They seemed visibly nervous, as was Quebra though he concealed it better, about the weapon Rook had hoisted onto his shoulder.

"What's the problem, you never seen beanbag rounds before?" He ribbed the wrestler for his remarks, but his call was as much to inform the people around them that a lethal gunfight wasn't about to ensue. He wanted them to watch, it was good for business. "Alright everyone, you better be watchin' and listenin', my name's Rook, I represent the Kingdom Merc Group, tell your mates about us!"

And without further ado, he flipped the shotty off his shoulder and fired, as quick as that, a one two motion that caused one of the barrels of his weapon to fire and expunge a non-lethal projectile at wicked speed towards the wrestler's centre of mass. It wasn't so fast as a bullet, not even close really, but at around three hundred feet per second the impact could break a rib or put a fully-grown man on his ass. Not to mention it'd cover the scant thirty feet between them in a tenth of a second, not bad at all. The only chance the wrestler had was recognising the round was coming before Rook pulled the trigger.

Then, Rook's demeanour shifted significantly. Gone was the almost casual stance, replaced with a dangerous focus. His left leg led as he presented the riot shield forward, holding the shotty to the right of the obstruction and leaving only the very top of his head and the bottom of his legs exposed other than that. That was about all he had to do, for now.


[System]
Gender: Male
Age: 20
Appearance:
 Height: 5'5"
 Build: Slender
 Hair: Ash blond (light brown)
 Eyes: Green
 Clothing: His attire consists of a white, long-sleeved shirt underneath a black, over-sized hoodie with a pair of black gloves. Additionally, he wears a pair of dark green pants with black combat boots.
Skillset: He is experienced with the functionality of machines, due to his upbringing, and has an adept knowledge of science. He is also talented at picking locks and has a decent amount of knowledge in medicine. Though he is not the strongest, he is fairly nimble.
Weapon(s): .45 Auto Pistol & Combat Knife
Personality: Though quiet when with strangers, he is quite the talkative person when given the time to become adjusted to another's presence. Armed with a sarcastic personality, as well as an offhanded tendency to snap at people, he does have an odd sense of obligation for other people's safety and well-being, even if they have done him wrong before. He also has the habit of hiding things from people, fearing the consequences he may have to face if he were to tell them. As for himself, he could be considered rather unconcerned and reckless.
Biography: He grew up in the same town as Jace, sequestered in the marshlands of southern Georgia. His father worked as a mechanic there, which included supplying the town with purified water. When the machine began to break down gradually, though, rations had to be issued, which caused the family to become unpopular when there was not enough for everyone to share. His mother died when he was young when there was a "freak accident," and afterwards, that only gave the other townspeople more reason to ostracize the family--if the man could not be trusted to keep his own family alive, then how could he be trusted to keep an entire town alive? When he was sixteen, he fell ill from radiation poisoning, but recovered; after this close call with death, he decided to begin his research on a long-term solution for the water issue, studying Project Purity and more cases of a G.E.C.K. working miracles. About two years after, he and his closest friend, Jace, set out on their journey to search through Vaults until they discovered one.

[User]
"Well, I never!" Kaye huffed and put her hands on her hips. "If that is the way you feel about it, then we will leave. We don't need you, anyways." She turned to leave and bumped directly into Leith. "Let's get out of here and do what we came here to do."
 Jace was momentarily struck silent at Basil's outburst. He knew he was correct on all parts, but didn't want to admit it to him. Not even his own father could make him feel so guilty and shameful than a berating from Basil could induce. Once he'd calmed down and grew a rational mind once more, he turned to look at the girl.
 "We do not have any caps to pay you. If he had, then we wouldn't be here scavenging ourselves." That little tidbit may have been a little lie, but it wasn't that far off. "As you can already see, we owed a debt to these two," he pointed to Leith and Kaye, "so what makes you think we have anything to pay you?"

[Assistant]
Kate laughed, shaking her head. Once she'd calmed down, wiping an imaginary tear from her eye with her index finger, she said, "Do you really expect me to believe that you're mere scavengers? No one risks their lives to come into a vault for just spare parts and mangled pieces of electronics. No, you come here for so much more." She looked pointedly at Basil; he was obviously the smarter of the two. "You come here for a G.E.C.K."
 Leith looked down at Kaye, steadying her after she bumped into him. "Wait a minute, Kaye." This woman wasn't to be trusted; she had the eyes of a hawk, a carrion eater who was prepared to pick at their remains the moment that they had their backs turned. If she knew how to operate even the most minute segments of the vault, there was no telling what she could do to them. Vaults could be hiding anything within their walls.

[User]
Jace's blood ran cold when she directly stated their sole purpose. He couldn't help the involuntary twitch of his trigger finger on his gun. For some reason he just didn't trust this girl. It may have had something to do with he wit and skill, but something just seemed off about her.
 "Well..." he repositioned his rifle to balance on his shoulder as he shuffled foot to foot. "According to what you say, then you aren't only here to scavenge, either. And if you didn't come here to nurse your 'sprain,' then you must be here looking for something important as well. Maybe you're searching for the G.E.C.K.?" Even without hearing her answer, he could feel his finger itching to pull the trigger. If they had competition with this mission, then he didn't want to take any chances with adversaries.
 Kaye looked up at Leith for a moment, about to protest when she remembered what he'd said before they entered this place. Biting back her comments, she listened to him and turned to stare back at the girl, waiting for her response to Jace's observation. He may be an idiot at times, but he wasn't completely illogical.

[Assistant]
Kate slowly clapped, her applause gradually increasing in tempo and volume. She then grinned from ear-to-ear, and said, "Aw, he understands now. I think your friend caught on a long time before you, though." She looked at the shorter, dark-haired one. "Didn't you?"
 Basil narrowed his eyes, and replied, "Why do you want the G.E.C.K.?"
 She rolled her eyes, and responded, "Why, to save the world, of course!" She stood, tapping her chin with one finger. However, before she could continue, she was surprised to hear the ghoul in the back interrupt.
 "People who are alone seldom care about more than themselves, much less the state of the world," Leith said. He knew; when he'd lost his family, he simply ceased to care.
 Kate was silent for a moment, but then laughed, "Perhaps you are just envious because it's too late for such a device to save you, no?"
 Leith felt a muscle twitch in his jaw at that remark.

[User]
Kaye rarely got angered but when she took a direct hit at Leith, she felt her self control slipping away. Without saying a word, she pulled out her pistol and walked towards her. Just as she raised the gun to shoot, Jace quickly snatched it out of her hand. Not that that stopped her from rushing her, bare-fisted but Jace once again caught her around the waist, making her legs fly in the air when he grabbed her so suddenly.
 "You have some nerve, you bitch!" she yelled at her, glaring. "You'd be lucky to be half the person Leith is, you cu-"
 "Calm down, Kaye," Jace said through gritted teeth. He wasn't none too happy about this girl either, but at least he wasn't the only one who wanted to kill her. "For someone who is trying to make new friends girl, you ainn't doing such a good job at it.

[Assistant]
Kate only laughed again, and said, "Well, at least one person in this group has initiative."
 Leith hurried over to Kaye, taking her from Jace's hold; he assumed that Jace wasn't too pleased with having to hold down the pint-sized devil. He then murmured to her, "Easy there, Kaye. Words won't hurt me as much as her laser pistol will you." That was a weapon wielded only by those of class; he recalled that was how he would have phrased such a thing, back in the old days. He then began to piece it together, the realization dawning on him with impending horror.
 Oh, shit.

[User]
"She just thinks she can say what she wants and get away with it?!" Kaye struggled a little more in Leith's arms but finally gave up, knowing it was futile.
 Jace narrowed his eyes at the girl and used Kaye's pistol to aim it at the chick. "Initiative? Perhaps I could shoot you now and save us the trouble of doing so later?"
 "You have my vote!" Kaye yelled, still glaring at her.
 He ignored her. "If you are after the G.E.C.K. as well, then you will most likely try to take it from us. So why should I let you live?"

[Assistant]
"Don't shoot, Jace," Leith snapped, narrowing his eyes at her.
 Kate peered at him curiously, lips curved in a smirk.
 Back before the war, there had always been corruption; everywhere one looked, there were knives been shoved into people's backs. The government would annex otherwise friendly nations, would wage war over resources, and CEOs would sink other businesses in order to stay afloat themselves, and even neighbors who just so happened to make a few more dollars than the other would suddenly be seeking methods of eliminating potential competition and would flaunt about as if they owned the world, as if nothing could touch them. Judgment would be passed, but it was always flawed. The world remained the same, even after two hundred years. No one would ever learn lessons from history. Organizations who thought that they could and would stomp down others persisted.
 And one that he had been acquainted with, to an extent, even before the war, was one of the strongest out there.
 "She's one of the Brotherhood," Leith said, voice quiet.
 Kate grinned, "What an entertaining puzzle it has been."

[User]
Jace's eyes widened slightly at that and hesitated in his movements. He stared at her for a long time before cursing under his breath. If what Leith had said was true, then they definitely didn't need the entire Brotherhood of Steel breathing down their necks. He doubted they would be able to trace them, but they rarely travelled alone and if there were any nearby that knew of her location, they would easily track them down and destroy them all.
 "This just keeps getting better and better..." Jace muttered, still glaring at her as he lowered his gun. Everyone remained silent for a long moment as everyone was left with their own thoughts. "I will not kill you as long as you stay the hell out of our way. This is our mission and the likes of your filthy group is not going to take it from us. We need it more than your pampered, pathetic lives."

[Assistant]
"Ah, on the contrary," Kate said vaguely. She then straightened up, eyes narrowed suspiciously. "But you're mere citizens, leading primitive lifestyles. You have to scavenge for food, scrap together rusted parts for the most basic of machines and medicinal practices. How could any of you be educated enough to properly utilize a G.E.C.K.?"
 "We're not animals," Basil snapped, "In fact, we must be smarter than the rest of you combined, considering that we've managed to survive out here without the help of past technologies."
 Leith smirked at that; the kid really had fire in him at times.

[User] Jace let a smirk slip to his face momentarily but it quickly fell. "Maybe if the likes of your people didn't steal everything that suits your needs from our people, then much of the world would be more civilized and advanced. And besides, at least we don't have to lead pampered lives to survive." He slowly approached the Brotherhood member and stopped a mere foot from her, glaring down at her fiercely. "We will have the G.E.C.K. and if you take it from us...I can guarantee it will not end prettily."

[Assistant] Kate rolled her eyes, and inquired, "What even makes you think that one is here?"

[User]
"Whether there is one here or not, it means you will continue searching for one. And if you happen to come across it before we do, then I will not have any choice but to kill you. So your best bet is to leave now and go back to your little hideout."
 While everyone was dealing with the girl, Kaye's ears perked upon hearing a noise coming from the hallway. It was very faint and could have merely been radroaches crawling in the air ducts, but it had her gently shoving Leith to the side and she stepped out into the hallway. Of course no one noticed her departure aside from Leith, who she was sure was following behind her.
 "I heard something..." she muttered, mostly to herself. She took her combat knife out of its sheath and held it at the ready. Considering Jace confiscated her pistol, this would have to do.

[Assistant]
Basil apprehensively watched the exchange between the Brotherhood of Steel lady and Jace, remaining silent as he instead took mental notes on what she said. She seemed rather confident; from what he knew, all Brotherhood of Steel members were, considering that they had every reason to be with their heavy suits of metal, top-of-the-line energy weapons, and hordes of hidden technology that they had amassed and hid from the common people for many decades now, but even the most arrogant and conceited of people could have their ego trashed and scattered in the tenser moments.
 He sighed softly, and said as he turned around, "Let's leave, Jace."

 Leith, despite wishing that Kaye would just remain in this one room until further notice, hurried after her. It was then that he also detected the noise. It vaguely sounded like vermin, ones that they could easily squash underneath their boots and forget about, but he knew that if that was truly the case, they would have heard it long ago. No, it was more likely that more raiders lied in wait elsewhere in the vault, preparing either a sneak attack or an escape.
 "Kaye, let me go first," he whispered, pushing past her to stand in front. He gestured towards her knife as he removed his revolver from its holster on his hip.


[System]
Artwork Originally of Jason Levasseur from Moonlight Apparition, a webcomic made by one Darkhalo4321; all credit given to her.

16 | Male | 148 | 5'6
Yang
Jiwald
 | Non-Native | Human

 Description

Ashton Andrews is a young man whose deceptively mild and bright appearance conceals optimistic ambitions that might lead to success or disaster, the latter if not tempered with patience. He is your typical Anime fan who nevertheless has other priorities than the shows he watches, and has a plan for his life and his future. He also has a pet pigeon and a family that he loves dearly.

 Appearance Description (optional)

Ashton Andrews is a brown-haired boy who prefers clothes that match his hair; browns, blues, and dark greens. When it is no longer winter on his end, he prefers an ordinary T-Shirt, jeans, and sneakers when going out. His eyes are bright green and his build is lean, but athletic and reasonably muscled, although it is mostly hidden by his clothes.

 Personality

Ashton is kind and tries to project an image of mildness. For the most part, this image is true, as on Earth, Ashton is genuinely content with what he has, with only the briefest of musings as to what could be. But at the same time, this image hides a facet of himself who tries to think and plan for every known occasion, a facet that emerges only when in genuine danger (which was rare where he lived). Due to this, he is driven, but can be tempted to ignore the interests of the group, especially when the other members have different goals. He recognizes this as a flaw in himself and tries to fix it before it grows into an inability to accept things that don't go his way.

He also has a boyfriend; he's bisexual.

 Class

Ashton wants to be the diplomatic 'Face' of the party, and he thinks he is good at being both adorable and unobtrusive. He can also administer first aid, which is a skill that can be made redundant by merely having a Water Magic user around. If given time to plan out his further specializations, he plans to be a Rogue with buffing spells and a melee focus; he's not interested in sneaking around or stealing like a regular thief, but rather in agility and speed and being able to avoid hits.

 Bio

Ashton was born in a medium-sized city in New England, to an ordinary, loving family. He was smart, prenaturally so for his age, and the praise he was given by his parents and teachers would have sowed seeds of pride in him, if not for an incident that made him think deeper - he found a wounded pigeon in his backyard.

Carrying it inside, crying, he asked his parents if they can help it; make it better. And although his parents were not veterinarians, they did their best to clean the bird's wounds and bandage its broken wing. The pigeon survived the night, and Ashton made it his pet. He was six then.

He had found his goal in life - to be a veterinarian one day. And he had his pigeon to thank for that.

As Ashton grew up, he had a moderate interest in Anime, mostly ones involving 'Mons and Giant Robots. In time, however, he would encounter the 'Isekai' genre, in which protagonists were transported to another world to live out their power fantasies. Cringing at each Light Novel he read, yet not able to stop, Ashton thought to himself; what if he were transported to another world? Would he panic, or would he do better? Would he die a horrible death, or would he proceed to introduce a technological revolution? Either way, most Iskeai stories were a waste of potential.

Best to continue on with his studies in animal (and just in case he wanted to branch out, human) medicine, especially when his pigeon was reaching the end of its lifespan.

When Ashton's pigeon died, the boy, then twelve years old, was sorrowful and sullen but quickly recovered. He was not going to dishonor his pet's memory by giving up! And so the young man threw himself to his studies more, but couldn't quite escape the urge to watch Anime (all genres) from time to time. He also began reading books of science and technology, economics and history, in order to compose, in his leisure time, an essay titled, 'Why Isekai Stories Don't Work'. Just something to amuse himself with while waiting for formal studies with animal medicine.

(Basically, said essay criticized Isekai stories for wish fulfillment and overpowered characters who were given everything and paid no cost for it. The text also posited that an actual 'transported to another world' story would have the protagonist either dying alone or be stuck in the lowest rung of the social ladder. Ashton also wrote that even with powerful magic and a helpful mentor, one would still have to pay a cost for success, even if it is the inability to function without help from other people in that world.)

And at present, he was happy, his essay had been written, and to cap it all, he had a new pet pigeon, Pidgey II. Life was good and he was not going to exchange it for the world.

As for his boyfriend, well, he has his own biography.

Magic

Life energy: C (Now raised to A)

Flow: C

Regular Magic

Abstract Magic

Divine Protection of Ideal Self: Ashton can transform into his "ideal self," which looks and sounds different enough from his true self that people will not recognize him unless he transforms in front of them. He also gains a boost to his physical prowess, and he is always in perfect condition. If his ideal self is wounded, he immediately reverts to his real self, and takes the blow.

Return by Death

 Extra

youtube.com/watch?v=fRqlduTrCus

Ashton carries his essay on his person, as well as a smartphone.

[User]
Aerith Hastings

There We Go: Part I - Shopping In Style, Golden Quarter, Main Road, Priestella

@Rune_Alchemist@Althiel@BrokenPromise

---

Avoiding unnecessary suspicion, getting a fitting set of clothes...yes, this was an idea that Aerith felt she could easily get behind right now. Especially with the anecdote that the city's forces, if "Priestella" was the proper name and she assumed things rightly, were on alert for anything strange or suspicious. Even a group of three stranger that, unbeknownst to Irene and Vasilis to her knowledge, were from another world and had no idea about anything here. Death, a least by guards, was something she wanted to avoid....actually, avoiding the dying altogether was the real desire if she were to be frank. Though whether she or they all could avoid death again or not, just not having to start again at the same position, if they even LIVED again after another death at that, would be preferable. She....wanted to try to be hopeful, at least a bit, even if in the end it was silly to do so.

Though a coach pulled by an earth-like dragon approaching quickly snapped her out of those thoughts for the moment being. At first it was almost a bit jarring, yet keeping tabs on Irene and Vasilis' reactions she allowed herself to finally relax a bit. Even to coachman was friendly to them, petting the "steed" drawing the carriage who seemed very nice and friendly. Walking over, Aerith gently petted the dragon as well, feeling the sensation of its hide as the fact "this is a real thing here" set into her mind and a small smile came to her face. Then after a moment, though, she walked over to the open carriage door.

She let Vasilis help her into the carriage, taking a seat to the side and giving Chieko and Vasilis room to sit. Some of the nerves began to arise again, a small tingle going up her back as if to remind her of things. Ah. Perhaps once they made it to the "Golden Quarter" they could swiftly get better clothes and get better acquainted to this place. At least, if naught else, to get their bearings in a potentially "safer" locale.

At least the trip wasn't bad in getting there. Rather, smooth, actually, making it easier on the teen's nerves at least.

Though now she was looking forward to what clothes they could/would get a bit, if she had to be honest about things.

[Assistant]
Aaron Yang
Near the Docks, Cham

---

@Letter Bee@ERode
Weaving through sidestreets casting paranoid glances to ensure they weren't followed, Aaron gritted his teeth. There were too many people staring at them! Could they really escape their fate? Or did far worse await the group? The question seemed to instantly answer itself as a heavily accessorized woman in red spoke to them "Excuse me." Every hair stood up on Aaron's body as he froze in place. 'Oh shit, not this again!!!' he wanted to run, to get away from it all…. But his body just wouldn't move.

"I must apologize if you're not from around here, but I'm looking for a Mistress Vertti. Have you seen her recently?" 'Thank god.' it seemed; that at least for the moment, that someone in this hellish city didn't consider them cultists. As he breathed a small sigh of relief, tea-boy decided to speak up, "That's unlikely," the Japanese boy replied, glancing towards Ashton, "Our circumstances aren't exactly the same, after all…but yeah, we could certainly help. Could you give us an idea of what your mistress looks like, Miss…?"

Thankfully, she seemed to be willing to even HELP the boys, at first…. "Yes, I figured you weren't local. I'm actually a stranger here myself." To demonstrate this, she waved her arm along the visible trinkets they could see. "My name is Aer Pacifica. I'm an adventurer who's task is currently locating Mistress Vertti. She is no one I have personally met, and she has been gone for over a week." She sighed before extending her hand to the side. "If you're new to the area, you probably won't be of much help. Though the offer is appreciated." Aer was about to walk off, but she suddenly froze in place. "Oh, right." she turned to look at the three boys. "This city is sealed off. It's surrounded by bandits and the only people allowed to go in or out are licensed adventurers and merchants." She squint her eyes. "If you were kidnapped, then you're walking around in the open now because...?" Aer closed her eyes. "I don't have time for this. But it's not safe to walk around here. You're clearly not locals, and if you don't have a passport that allows you entry, the punishment can be very harsh." The cloaked woman fixed her eyes on Aaron and reached behind her back with one arm."I'm going to take you to the authorities. What they do to you will not be pleasant, but at least you'll have a chance to prove you're not in league with the bandits."

'FUCK.' Not only was she going to straight up deliver them to the people trying to kill them, but a crowd was beginning to gather around them. Then Ashton decided it was smart to PULL OUT HIS FUCKING PHONE. "Alright, I can see I was wrong to suspect you might be bandits." Aer declared as her eyes shot open, the smile having vanished from her face. "You're cultists!" She pulled something off of her back and held it in both of her hands. It was still covered in cloth, but at this point it was very evident it was a pole weapon of some kind. "No self respecting bandit would let you walk around with such a powerful magical device!"

Thankfully, it appeared that she may have still doubted her accusation. "Even if you're innocent, it's too dangerous for you to walk around without any sort of documentation." There was no mistaking it, she just slid her feet into a stance. "I'm not going to ask a third time, you will come with me. Now."

Then some random catgirl decided to show up and offer to buy the 'magic item'. At this rate, they were all going to end up dead AGAIN. Fearfully, Aaron placed his hands behind his head as if he was being arrested, "P-P-Please don't kill us Ma'am…. W-we're innocent! Please just take us in! Th-that item doesn't even use magic! We didn't even really know magic was even real until today! Just don't kill us." he fearfully pleaded, tears streaming down his face.

[User]
Near the Docks, The Cham

This was a lot of trouble.

Yup, Yuuki could feel it already. Ashton pulling out his phone had consequences that were simply not worth the trouble to begin with, and the fact that the action both made this 'Aer' super aggressive AND brought the attention of another fellow who seemed to be a total fan of cultist chic AND triggered the backpack-stealer's PTSD or whatever meant that there were now more than just a few folks who were looking at their general directions. Awesome. Great. This felt like a goddamn repeat of their time at that main road, huh?

He flashed a quick look in Ashton's direction, half-accusatory and half-dismissive, before raising his own hands up in a sign of surrender. "I don't know about these people, cause we all just met like...less than a half hour ago, but I'm personally grateful for you telling us about this, Miss Pacifica. Let's just ignore the crazies and head to the authorities, yeah? Don't wanna be an illegal, after all."

Fucking hell, this was a mess that he just didn't want to have to fucking deal with right now, but apparently his dad's gods were real and were conspiring to fuck him over and over and over again.

Hiding a grimace, Yuuki uncorked the thermos that he held in his hand and took a quick slurp of tea. Definitely never again.

[Assistant]
Ashton froze, realizing that he screwed up badly. Flashes of being ran through by Mono's troops filled his memory, and he knew he was going to die again. On second thought, bad idea to be a control freak. Very bad idea. I should not have done that. And now I endanger the people around me -

Then, opportunity came as a Cat Demi-Human went up to him and offered to buy his 'magical device', and the young man said quickly, "Here's the deal; get us away from here and onto a safe place, and you can have it! What do you think?"

He was gambling on whether the Cat had fighting skills well as money, gambling that said fighting skills matched that adventurer, gambling that that cat didn't actually care about 'Cultists'. Ashton Andrews was also gambling that he was in the right this time.

And yes, he had noticed Aaron's renewed attempt to plead for mercy. On seeing that, Ashton really wanted to take back his offer to the Catboy and change his course of action. But then he remembered how pleading for clemency had failed before, and this memory was coupled with the practical realization that the small adventurer would never believe that the device didn't run on Magic; science was hard to explain to people who didn't have that as part of their curriculum. That said, at least there was a curriculum and literacy was reasonably widespread, judging from the many shop signs in the city. Enough tangents; time to see if his plan worked.

He faced Kimura, admiring the other boy's bravery in trusting the authorities. He then turned again to the Catboy, "Make sure to take my friends as well and I'll teach you how to use it."