[System]
Age: 21

Appearance:

Though opinions vary on how beautiful Artemis is, no one can deny she's a striking figure to see, with her brown skin, starlight hair, and aqua eyes. She's a tall, slender thing standing at 5'9", with long, willowy limbs and subtle curves beneath her clothing. Her wardrobe is eclectic, with various scarves, jewelry, and feathers. She paints different markings on her skin and arms, adding to her unique look.

Occupation: Traveling Mystic

Personality: Artemis is whoever she needs to be to get by. But whether she's quiet and mysterious, or flirtatious and inviting, the one constant is that she's always looking out for herself. Though not particularly interested in other people, she enjoys using them as her primary source of entertainment. It's difficult to know who Artemis truly is or what she cares about, as she keeps everything truly important locked away – especially from herself.

History: Before she was Artemis, she was Emira Janan Mathilde Basira Felicity Lujayn Cosima Airtifae-Alqamar, Grande Duchess of the Silver Valley. Young Emira and her little brother Idris grew up with all the advantages that came with nobility. Idris, though younger than Emira, was the heir apparent. This was just fine with her – Emira was not quite suited for nobility. She was clever, worldly, and even charming when she wanted to be, but she had no interest in politics and governing. Idris, with his patience and generosity, would do well, while she entertained herself with seeing how quickly she could insult a dignitary and how long she could keep him from storming out of the palace after that.

When she was fifteen years old, a plague swept through the valley. They called it the Climbing Vine for the slow, crawling way it choked the life from its victims. Their mother was the first to catch it. Then their father. Emira and Idris were quarantined from their parents for more than a year before their died. The night before Idris' coronation, he fainted.

Preparations were being made for Emira's coronation even before Idris passed. Half a year after he first started showing symptoms, Emira charmed her way past the guard and crept into her little brother's room, as she had so many times before. Sometimes he had good nights, in spite of the sickness. His eyes would be bright and his laugh would ring out like a bell as she gossiped with him about the stuffy dignitaries, so full of themselves it was a wonder they fit through the palace doors. But that night was not a good night.

His eyes were glassy and his smile was weak as he clutched his big sister's hand with his waning strength. He whispered how proud he was of her, and how wonderful a ruler she'd be. Emira was the cleverest, strongest, funniest person he knew, and the people would adore her. They'd love her as much as he did. Emira looked at him for a long moment. Then she placed a kiss on his damp forehead, careful not to let any tears fall on him. She ran from the palace that night.

When she was eighteen years old, Artemis locked Emira away with her guilt and tried not to look back.

When she was nineteen, she heard a rumor that the Grand Duke of the Silver Valley had finally died without an heir.

Artemis traveled from one town to another, making her living as a mystic. In reality she was little more than a charlatan. Her ethereal looks, intelligence, and the skills she learned at court – languages, dancing, and singing, among others – helped her sell the facade. Before waking up in the forest, she made her living telling fortunes, selling "enchanted" baubles and sometimes outright stealing. Artemis played whatever role was required to entice her customers, and dazzled them with petty revelations about their futures or innermost thoughts (either flat out lies, generic statements that were easy to read into, or educated guesses based on how the customers presented themselves).

She told herself it was easier to forget over time – easier to push away the guilt. She could turn into someone else and feel nothing at all. After all, it was Emira who'd turned her back and ran from her Valley. Her little brother. Not Artemis.

Maybe if she said it enough times it would make it true.

[User]
Reus snorted and flicked an ear, glaring stubbornly at Anise -- but he finally sat on the shore with an irritable huff. Anise would once again get the feeling that he highly objected to having his mind probed by the lantern, but this time he allowed her just enough access to assure her of Morly's trustworthiness. The young kith perpetually traversed the length of the river; Reus had never seen him on shore. Morly transported supplies and passengers for Kith and Pirate alike, declaring the river to be a neutral zone, and so was left on his own.

Morly pushed away from the shore with his stick. "As long as we're on the river we're safe. Everybody knows that. But once we cross the witch's barrier at the lake, she'll come running. We just gotta be quick. I'm the quickest, though."

As the raft began to float downstream, Reus stood and began to follow along on the shore. He lowered his head and flicked an ear, peering across at Anise, and willingly communicated with the Lantern.

The last time the wolf had seen the witch, she had been leading Simon away from the red Lantern where the boy had first appeared. Reus would have liked to blame Simon for the witch's disappearance, but his investigations had proven differently.

The witch was gone, as far as he knew. Arin -- the murderer whose corpse had provided the blue lantern to Anise's possession now -- had maliciously destroyed the source of the witch's power and protection. The witch, unknowing, had led Simon into her house -- and then the wild trees had broken into the house and snatched both Simon and the witch away into the forest. Reus had searched for her -- but had found Anise, Randold and Hania instead.

But Simon was here, alive. Perhaps the witch was alive somewhere, too.

The raft was picking up speed, and Reus broke into a trot to keep up.

"So yer lookin' for the pirate ship, huh?" Morly called over the sound of the rushing water. "There's lotsa neat things on the ship, I heard. Maybe even a dragon egg. How're you plannin' to get past the gryphons, then? They like to sit on the mast. Everybody knows that."

---

"Hm?" Sir Neary hummed as he scooted along the branch, knife in-hand. "Oh yes, my lady, I certainly know a thing or two about these ticking trees! They were created by the first artificers, centuries ago, in order to keep the dragon eggs in a weakened state. The clockwork enchantments suck power from the egg continuously, so it may do no more harm." He paused, huffing, and wiped his brow with a gauntleted hand. "The eggs must be kept trapped and separate, or risk the end of this world as we know it. This tree is a very important prison." He put the knife to the glimmering thread that held the lantern.

"But the situation has changed." He sawed at the thread. His voice had changed to an airy hiss. "There's an alternative plan."

The thread snapped and the lantern plummeted.

The tree clanged and clattered, broken with a metallic clamor inside the hollow trunk.

In the same instant, the glowing metal floor dropped out from under Artemis, and she -- with the Lantern glowing steadily red -- fell into the gaping cool abyss below.

As she fell, the form of Sir Neary vanished. In his place was a dark shadow with hollow gray eyes, watching her fall.

Artemis would hear the rushing rapids before she splashed into cold foamy water. The rapids whisked her away down a sloping dark passage, twisting and turning and dropping, and the Lantern tumbled after her.

The speed of the water slowed by degrees, and Artemis dropped, finally, into deep water.

When she raised her head to the surface, she would draw a breath of fresh night air. She had ended up in a narrow river that cut through the forest. Stars glimmered overhead.

There were voices approaching, and a bright blue light that moved along the water toward her.

"So yer lookin' for the pirate ship, huh?" a child's voice said in the distance. There were at least two people aboard a raft, coming closer. It would pass her by within a few moments. "There's lotsa neat things on the ship, I heard. Maybe even a dragon egg. How're you plannin' to get past the gryphons, then? They like to sit on the mast. Everybody knows that."

The red Lantern lay on the river floor, beneath Artemis.

[Assistant]
Anise nodded as Morly explained how the river was safe, but the sound of witch was a bit unnerving. "That's good the river's safe. How long should it take for us to get there? How quick will the witch take to come?"

She felt a bit of a rush as soon as the boat started to pick up speed. There was no way that they were far from their destination. This left her feeling eager to return the Lady of the Pond to her home and get to her next objective: the remaining lanterns. She knew there was one at the pirate ship, and if she made it there safely then she could get right to work on returning the forest to its natural state.

Anise opened mouth and then closed it to think a bit. So they were called gryphons? Like the fairy tale monsters? "Do you know any way to calm them and maybe keep them from hurting my and my friends?" She felt she could actually calm them down with the help of the Spirit Egg, but she wanted to have another option available just in case that wouldn't work. "I don't want to have to fight them if I can help it."

She the suddenly thought up an idea as the Lantern passed her thoughts. She concentrated on the egg within the lantern itself and tried to make contact with it. Hello, I'm Anise Sinclair, Princess of Riverforde. I want to help bring the forest back into its proper balance, and there are going to be gryphons in my near future. Can you help me? If the lantern held an egg within it that meant she was carrying a living thing, and this egg seemed to be beyond normal conventions. Thus she thought perhaps she could communicate with it on some level.

[User]
Artemis scrunched her eyebrows together and tilted her head to the side as she tried to make sense of his words. Dragon… eggs? Tree prisons? But her thoughts halted when the old knight's voice turned chilling as the night wind. She stood a little straighter, the hairs on the back of her neck bristling. Since waking up she'd felt confusion, nervousness, frustration… but for the first time she felt a very real trickle of fear trailing up her spine.

And then the ground left her. Artemis could only look up to see the haunting grey eyes of the shade – pulled from the darkest corners of her childhood tales – drift farther away as she fell.

She wasn't prepared for the water. It stunned her with a gasp – that she immediately regretted when water rushed into her lungs. Flailing for some sort of hold on the situation, Artemis spluttered and coughed, desperate for air. She was helpless to the currents as they pulled her along. All she could think was that this was how she died. All her life, her pain, her mistakes had lead to this one, confusing, unimportant end.

I want my brother.

The thought suffocated her more than the water did, unbidden and more powerful than it'd been in so long. She did not deserve her brother. But at least she would see him again.

She couldn't do much when she found herself dropped down again, but the water she met was calm and languid. Breaking the stillness of the river, she flailed and coughed some more, blind to everything but the fear in her heart and fire in her lungs. Artemis managed to keep her head above water long enough to cough out most of the water from her lungs. Her eyes watered from the pain, but then it was difficult to tell since water was just about everywhere. Water and voices. As Artemis returned to her senses, she felt more thoughtless panic bubble up inside of her. She didn't have time to register any more than her desperate need to hide, protect yourself, there are hungry shadows here and you don't understand.

I want my brother.

The thought echoed in her head again, sadder and softer, but still desperate. Artemis breathed out ragged gasps as she tried to shove the thought down. Frantic, she looked around for some sort of escape. The voices – accompanied by an eerie blue light – were almost upon her. Soon their owners would see her.

A red glow below her drew her eye then. Artemis looked from the glow to the river's edge, where a brush of reeds grew, to the blue light. Making her decision, she sucked in as much air as her pained lungs could hold, and dove. The river was dark and murky, but not terribly deep. Soon enough Artemis found the lantern and pulled at the heavy shawl pinned around her waist. (The scarf tied at her wrist had slipped away in the rapids, as had the feathers pinned to her hair. The marking painted on her skin were a dripping, ugly mess. She hadn't spent an hour in this world, and already it was dismantling her piece by piece.) Scooping the Lantern up, she wrapped the shawl around it, hoping the fabric would be enough to stifle the crimson light it emitted. Then with all the force she could muster, she kicked off of the river's floor towards the edge, where she remembered the reeds growing.

When Artemis surfaced among the brush – as quietly as she could – the boat was already passing over where she'd landed. She clamped her free hand over her mouth in an attempt to stifle her pained breaths and pushed herself further into the plants. The swaddled Lantern was held close against her stomach, under the water's surface. Artemis was too focused on the thundering in her heart and the fire in her lungs to notice anything else that might've stalked the shore.


[System]
Age: 28

Gender:Male

Rank:Corporal

Ethnicity/Nationality: White Irish-American

Physical Description:
Thomas stands at six foot seven, with some muscle mass that he has kept from his previous days in the army. He also has pale skin due to his Irish heriatage, and from living Ireland, which has caused him to get burned, but get a slight tan that can be comparable to the regular skin tone of some other soldiers. He has short hair, in order to keep with army rules, which is ginger, and also has ginger chest, arm, and leg hair.

Skillset:
Thomas is naturally a fighter, but had some training as a teenager as he always knew that he wanted to go into the army. He easily loses his temper, which can cause him to get violent, but usually keeps it under control.

History:
Thomas was born in New Hampshire to Irish American parents. He has two older brothers and an older sister, and a younger brother and sister. His family are all Catholic, and all of them, including Thomas, take their religion very seriously. Their father was abusive to their mother and them as children, and as a result, Thomas and most of his brothers became very violent and short tempered. When Thomas was 19, his family moved back to Ireland, but Thomas and one of his older brothers, Fionn, decided to stay in the US. They both moved to New York together, and Thomas joined the army. After a few years, after gaining the rank of Corporal, Thomas decided to join his family in Ireland, where he met a woman, Alice, and now has a child, Rory, of eight months. Thomas has been in Vietnam for a few months, as he was conscripted into the Army.

Equipment:
* M16A1 assault rife
* Colt M1911A1
* M1942 Machete
* A rosary
* Ka-Bar knife
* Standard combat dress, boots, helmet
* A picture of his wife and son, and a picture of him, his parents, and his brothers and sisters
* Backpack to hold everything
* A pack of cigarettes, some rolling papers, some tobacco, and a lighter
* A canteen of water, a hip flask of whiskey, and standard army rations

Other: Thomas talks in a medium to strong Irish accent due to his family and return to Ireland, but sometimes sounds a bit American, due to his youth, although this is rare.

[User]
Thomas nearly ran into Sergeant Ryan and his men, nearly shouting out loud before he stopped, throwing himself into the undergrowth.

There was crossfire going everywhere, with the Americans firing at all directions towards the Charlies. Tommy loaded up his rifle, taking the safety off, and began to shot carefully at the men in conical hats.

"Sarge!" he shouted in his Irish accent, "What do you want me to do!?"

Thomas had to cover himself from all angles, and missed quite a few shots. This didn't deter him from attacking the VC, though.

[Assistant]
"Hooah," Dodgers said, peering through the haze of humidity underbrush and all the visual garbage. He could make out the black pajamas and conical coolie hats. Raising Thumper he sighted in the approximate range. One of the VC raised up and had began to charge out there on the left side. -You-. It was his only thought as Dodgers triggered the grenade launcher. It bucked slightly with it's customary th00mp! A forty millimeter grenade shot across the distance so fast that it was nigh invisible. Being directly behind it's flight path Dodge could see it though. It arced gently, rising a little, and then coming down to hit the VC in the chest. A bright orange-white flash of the explosion threw human hamburger in all directions, adding to the shrapnel with human bone fragments and teeth.

Two other VC went down, one of them with a spurt of blood from the neck, the next one over... blood leaking from his ears, a side effect of the pressure wave and concussion. Dead or dying? Dodge wasn't sure, maybe just got his eardrums ruptured, but still... The firing stopped for a few moments in surprise and shock, at least from the VC boys. The poor Cong had exploded like he'd been hit by an angry god.

Dodge simply slipped another grenade from his bandolier and put it in Thumper. "Ya want another Sarge, I only have four left, one in the tube," he said in between ripples of gunfire.

At the moment he was crouched down by a tree that was almost three feet thick. Had he had time to really marvel at it he would have. For the moment it was his shelter in the rain of metal death, but most of the fire hadn't been directed his way. Now though, bark began to explode off the sides of the tree, while the dirt rippled around, and the bush was torn up, some of it beginning to fall.

[User]
"Ya want another Sarge, I only have four left, one in the tube,"

Ryan scanned the enemy. The fire was slackening, Viet Cong diving for cover under the effective suppressing fire from Derricks and his beloved Jack Johnson. The grenade had done its work as well, shredding one Charlie and putting two others out of commission.

"Negative," he called to Dodgers. "Save 'em. Switch to your rifle, help Derricks pin 'em down!"

He quickly evaluated the situation. The left flank had been decimated, most of the enemies near the grenade blast having scuttled towards the right side of the line. The Cong there were effectively pinned down. If he had more men and more ammunition, he'd have kept the squad in place and continued whittling away at the enemy, but he didn't have that luxury. Their guns would run dry sooner rather than later, the M60 in particular, and that would spell disaster. It was time for a calculated risk.

Fire-and-maneuver was a mainstay of the US Army infantry, and something they drilled constantly in training. If they were to have any hope of seeing the World again, risk had to be weighed against reward. It would be dangerous, but if they were quick and vicious and used the trees as cover, they'd have a clear shot at the enemy from their unprotected right flank. Executed properly, it would be a close-range slaughter.

Ryan took a breath, fighting down the flutter of fear that twisted his gut, then quickly bear-crawled to his right. He hauled himself upright behind a thick, solid tree, then began calling commands.

"Hoffman! Stay put, keep picking targets! You, Doc!" he pointed at the tall medic, easily identifiable by the med-bag on his back. "Stay in cover, but start putting rounds down range. Help suppress them."

He scanned his remaining men, then pointed at the other tall newcomer, the one with the Irish lilt.

"You, you're with me. Pope, you too! Get over here to my position, we're gonna flank these motherfuckers. Derricks, once we head off give us a five-count, then hit Charlie with a 40-round spray; I want full suppression! Then slow down and pick your targets, start spraying at individuals who poke their heads out. Barnes, you come with the flanking team. Let's put that shotty to use. Move it out, gents, we need to end this now!"

[Assistant]
Thumper was loaded, but Dodge transitioned to his M16. Selector was set to semi auto with the flick of a thumb and he sighted up, getting his sight picture. Edging around the right of his tree, he poked his barrel out and waited for Charlie to pop his head out. One did, the coolie hat popping up just enough for eyes to peer over the log. Giving a partial exhale, and feeling his pulse he waited just long enough to catch the space and squeezed on the trigger. The gun barked and bucked once, but not nearly as bad as some of the hunting rifles he'd shot back home.

His aim was for the brim of the hat. Aim small, miss small. Least that was what he had been taught. A dark spot appeared on the straw hat just above the brim, centerline just before it disappeared below the log. "Come on," he said quietly, his voice low, barely above a whisper. "Step out and meet Jesus..." he challenged Charlie across the wya though mostly he was talking to himself.

Just as he suspected another was bout to pop up for a pop shot, he squeezed the trigger again. Becca bucked against his shoulder, spitting a little bit of brass off to the side. Air was the only thing in the immediate vicinity tha he hit, but it might well make them keep their heads down.

[User]
Daniel maintained his position, squeezing off shots wherever he could at any Charlie he could see. These sons of bitches sure were everywhere, but they were going down faster than one could blink. The M60 definitely did a good job at suppressing these guys, which took a load of pressure off of everyone else squeezing off shots one-by-one from their M16s. It also definitely did people favors, if one of them jammed (which they inevitably will), they had time to clear the issue. The Sergeant had already situated himself behind a log, which was plenty good cover, considering it was about 3 feet thick. While everyone else was busy firing away, Daniel was simply popping controlled shots at anyone he could see. With every few shots he could see some Charlie fall. However, he didn't know if that was him, but he was damn sure he was at least contributing. The steady popping from his M16 allowed him to get into a rhythm, being able to recognize a target and firing on them almost immediately. It was pretty nice, knowing that they actually were holding off this swarm of Vietcong.

Before long though, he could hear First Sergeant Davis dishing out orders. As he dictated who did what, Daniel maintained a mental list and keeping track of who went where. As he heard his name called out, he looked over to where Davis was. He turned back to the firefight going on in front of him. He squeezed off a few more shots before backing away from his spot, moving over to where their leader was. He was ready to execute a flanking maneuver, eager to end this firefight as soon as possible.

[Assistant]
Chris did as he was told, staying against the log and picking his targets. A hat bobbing up or a muzzle flash, a glimpse of black pajamas as one of the VC made a dash. He fired steadily, trying to make every shot count. He was not unaware that the amount of enemy in the jungle versus the time they might be out there was not in their favor, conserving ammo was going to be crucial.

As he searched the long grass he saw one man pop up with something clutched in his hand. "Fuckin' grenade!" he centered on the man's chest as he stood to throw it and fired of several shots, hitting him in the center mass, the grenade dropping a few feet away with the limp throw. He ducked his head down as it blew up harmlessly, the only victim was the Chuck already dying from the M-16 rounds.

Chris licked the sweat from his lip and squinted, his glasses slipping down a little. He could hear Davis start his count and he focused on any movement in front of him. Once they moved, he laid down the fire to keep any VC ahead of them distracted and concerned with the barrage of bullets. He emptied the rest of the clip, snatching up another and slapped in place, raising his rifle in time to fire at Charlie taking shots at Derricks manning the machine gun.

[User]
He didn't like leaving Bobby back there and him up with the white boys, but that was the sergeant's orders, and sometimes you just had to hold your nose and follow orders. He off-loaded the belts for the pig, though, because Bobby was gonna need them, onto a GI towel to keep them from getting fouled and it was bad news to take the pig's ammo into a close assault type situation. He was tempted to take a drink of the canteen, but nixed the idea -- if he survived, he'd take down an entire canteen, giving Bobby half so they could both get some down without taking too much and cramping, because leaving it half-full meant it would slosh around, and the little shit...that's what counted. It was optimistic planning, figuring to survive the close assault, but he had to think positive out in this muthafucka. A canteen of water was something to look forward to.

He moved toward Ryan's position carefully, keeping his eyes peeled as he moved with one of the others, feeling strangely exposed without Bobby D nearby. He tried to pick out the cover ahead of time, figuring out where he could get on his belly in the dirt if the whole thing got bad and they had to advance under fire, all while his knees started doing their knock routine. In a normal situation, hitting like this made sense, but the problem in the back of Buck's skull was that they were cut off. There was no other squad. It was just them in this bad bush with black pajamas everywhere all around them. He knew that as soon as the fighting was done, down to the second, they'd have to di-di out of there and play cat and mouse with Charlie. Usually, US Army was doing the hunting, but this time, they were the meat and this was Charlie's back yard.

[Assistant]
Tommy saw the Sergeant point at him, "You, you're with me." and began to ran over to him, ducking his head to avoid getting shot by the VC, or even his own side's crossfire. Halfway to him, Tommy tripped on the undergrowth, shouting out, "Shit!" as he scrambled to get back onto his feet.

Just as he got up, he saw a couple of Charlies, and aimed his gun at them. He aimed his sights right at one of their heads, and shot a couple of times, but missed. He lowered his aim to the chest, where he hit. He aimed at the other Charlie's chest, and got it after a couple of shots. He continued his journey over to the Sergeant, and ducked nearby. "What do you want?" he asked, breathing heavily from getting tripped up.


[System]
Age: 26

Powers: Telepathy and Empathy/Empathic Suggestion.

Position: Bartender

Appearance:

History: Donnie was born in a cold alley in the dead of one of New York's harshest winters. His mother- 17 and homeless after her parents found out about her pregnancy- OD'd on the drugs she was using to keep the pain of the birth at bay. She died without once holding her child. The newborn had screamed and cried and coughed for the next hour before anyone walked by. When he was dropped off at the orphanage, no one was told what had happened to his mother, just that he'd been found on Death's doorstep due to exposure. He would ask the staff many times over his years what happened to his mother, his father, but he'd never get an answer.

This led to him being quite closed off in his formative years, thinking that his own parents had abandoned him and so will anyone he gets attached to. He fell in with a bad crowd starting in middle school and by his sophomore year he had joined a local gang. He never went back to school after that despite how well he did and the advanced rate he'd learned at; had his history been different, he would most likely have been an upstanding Honors student.

A year after he'd joined the gang, Donnie began getting headaches and random mood swings, whispers in the peripheral of his hearing that had him spinning around to find the source. It all built up until one stand off over territory just after he'd turned 18, where he was suddenly crippled by an intense fear that caused him to break out into a sweat of his own. His head felt like it was splitting with the rush of thoughts of "Kill or be killed, kill or be killed, killorbekilled-" and by the time his vision evened back out, there was a kid standing in front of him, even younger than when he himself first started. The kid had a gun pointed shakily at his chest and he couldn't think of anything to say under the foreign thoughts pressing in, nothing but "Killorbekilledkillorbekilledkillor-" before a gunshot rang out- so, so close to him- and a pain in his chest brought him to his knees before the suffocating darkness brought him all the way down.

After he was healed up and released from medical, he was put on trial and sentenced to serve 2 to 3 years for felony gang activity; two of which he dutifully served in prison, getting a hang of his powers and occasionally convincing guards to put him in isolation when he couldn't keep his walls up. His third year he was put on parole for good behavior, and after that he was a free man.

He began hanging around bars and talking with the bartenders, watching them as they worked and enjoying how most of them kept their thoughts geared toward finishing up and going home. He enjoyed the monotony of it. One day, in a bar he'd been a regular at for a couple years, the owner was scrambling to deal with the crowd due to his bartender coming down with something and none of his on-call employees picking up. Head buzzing from the man's frantic thoughts and feelings- and in a bit of a tight place financially- Donnie offered to cover the night for nothing more than the tips people give him. The rest of the night was spent listening to problems and mopping up spills, reassuring people with the slightest grazing touch. He was given a more permanent position once closing time came around, and he worked there for a year before a recruiter for the club came by and gave him the offer of pay and benefits he couldn't refuse.

He's been working at the club for the past two years now and he's come to enjoy being everyone's confidant, even before they got to the level of drunk that usually comes with oversharing. He likes to think he's cut out his own little corner of the world in the club, and that he's finally found people that would want him; the only reminder of his difficult past being the puckered scars from his teenage years and the indecipherable look he gets when he sees a child with their parents.

[User]
Donnie groaned as his alarm brought him back to the land of the living, alerting him to the fact that he had an hour to get ready and get to work. Despite the time that the club opened, Donnie had only just fallen asleep an hour previous; his damnable neighbors had been playing music all night and fighting all morning. Not only had he heard them through the paper-thin apartment wall he shared with them, but the rage the two had been projecting had his head throbbing and his temper shortening. He wasn't close enough to leave any emotional suggestions that would get them to calm down, so he had had to settle with blocking out their thoughts for the slightest bit of relief. They had finally ended it with one of them storming out of the apartment and he'd taken the chance to get a precious hour of sleep before his shift.

His head was still throbbing as he made his way into Club Codename and behind the bar to make sure everything was stocked, clean, and ready for opening. The coffee cup in his hand was already empty and he found himself tipping it back in the pathetic hope of getting even one more drop out of it; his neighbors' emotions may have been out of his system, but he was still nursing the normal headache from their raised voices and the music before that. He sighed when his frown reflected back at him from where he scrubbed a little too hard at the spotless bar.

"God, I really need to move out of that hell hole," Donnie muttered to his own reflection, taking note of the dark spots under his eyes. He had been planning to move out for a while, given that it was the same apartment he'd lived in ever since he got out of prison. He knew that it would be better to get out of the slums and find somewhere closer to his job, but he just didn't know how to look for a nice apartment. Growing up he'd gone from an orphanage to the gang's hideout, then to prison and his shitty little apartment; he wasn't sure he'd even know a good living space if he saw it.

Donnie looked away from the bar top and took a few deep breaths to try and shake off his mood, knowing that if he wasn't in control come opening time it would negatively affect the customers he interacted with. He's always made sure not to let his sour moods leak out, but better safe than sorry; he already saw Mr. Clark with a trainee, and while the man seemed rather immune due to the similarities in their powers, he wasn't sure about the girl, and didn't want to take any risks in finding out. He slowly reeled himself in before putting off a feeling of calm in hopes that it would not only help him truly feel it himself, but also that it would keep any customers around him from getting too rowdy tonight. He was in no shape to deal with anything of the sort, the sleep deprivation chipping away at his usually strong mental walls.

"Really need to move out," he repeated to himself, shaking his head and doing another pointless wipe down of the bar.

[Assistant]
Jacob being a night owl wakes up at 2 pm in his medium 1 bedroom apartment not far from the club. Taking the time to make breakfast he slowly wakes up while eating. After an hour he makes his way out wearing his work clothes, carrying a rolled up cloth with a bow holding it closed.

Several minutes walk brings him to the club, down the back alleyway of the place. Entering a code to enter he unlocks the door and heads inside, punching in for the day. He walks to the kitchen and places the cloth on the counter. Untying it he rolls it out and removes his knives from it setting them in place as he begins grabbing pots and pans to start with, filling a large pot with everything he needs to start Soups and stews for the day.

As he is prepping he looks at the menu to see what to make as the special for the day. He realizes that he has been there long enough that everything on the menu has been made as a special and sighs. A thought crosses his mind and he smiles deciding to make a special out of 2 meals. He preps BBQ beef to create a new dish, BBQ beef nachos.

He gets the previous days BBQ beef made for sandwiches and starts cooking more sauce to go with them. As the sauce cooks he walks out to the bar and grabs a few markers, writing the specials for the day on a whiteboard with some peppers and chips drawn on to draw peoples attention to the board. He puts the markers away and walks into the back to continue prep for the day.

[User]
Alexis, interacting with @AnaSilan Sunja

With a *yawn*  rises slowly from her makeshift bed on the rooftop of the highest standing building of the city. While owning a small apartment on the outskirts of the city, Alexis usually likes to sleep at highs. Even since she was small, she would go on the rooftop of her house to doze off.
But that was before she had her powers.
Looking at her phone, she notices that she woke up 2 hours earlier than she supposed to. With enough time to go to the gym, take a shower and arrive at work 30 minutes earlier, she gathered her stuff and teleported on the ground, scaring a few people by her sudden appearance.
15 minutes later she was on the other side of the city in a small gym and doing her exercises.
Known for her harsh attitude on people who interrupt her, no one approached her and with her headphones on, she didn't care about the others.

1 hours later, she teleported right in the club. Two coffees and a one ice tea for her in her hands.
Looking over the area, she noticed that the owner was training a new gal, Donnie was at the bar.
Appearing in front of Donnie, she smiled.
" Hey Donnie. Didn't get much sleep?"
A glass appeared in her hand and the two coffees appeared on the bar for Donnie to drink.
" Those two are for you. As for me, give me something hard. Hopefully, the night will be quite. Otherwise, I might need two of those. "

[Assistant]
Donnie couldn't even find it in him to jump at Alexis' sudden appearance, too used to her antics to even have an instinctual reaction nowadays. When the two coffees appeared before him, however, his eyes practically lit up. He quickly grabbed one and took a long sip, hugging the cup to his chest with one hand and smiling at the girl gratefully as he pulled down one of her favorite bottles. He poured her two fingers and slid the glass closer to her, despite the fact that she could have gotten it herself.

"You, my dear Lex, are a godsend," he told her, taking another sip of the warm drink in his hand. "And no, I didn't; my neighbors have been making sure to play music through the night and then start fighting as soon as the sun rises," he confided. "If I lived in an actual apartment complex it wouldn't be tolerated but," He shrugged, waving his hand dismissively. "y'know, it's The Slums. Can't do much to get slumlords to take action, and no one calls the cops for serious crimes, let alone a noise complaint."

He leaned against the bar top and gave her a soft smile before changing topics. "I'll make sure to keep the people in my area calm and happy so that neither of us need to worry too much. It's the least I can do to help you out in return for the caffeine."

[User]
Alexis took the glass and drank it in one quick gulp. She was used to this. Every night, some procedure. Wake up, go to work, drink something hard, kick ashes. It was a nice break from her acting days. The fuss she woke up too, the people always screaming because a scene didn't work out how they planned...

Alexis laughed and said with a smile on her face " Somehow I knew that you would need them. Donnie, if you need money, just ask. You know that in that department I'm good. Hell, you can crash at my place. Its not as if I use it too much. Maybe once or twice a month. I mostly use it to stash my stuff. With my power, I don't really need much. I slept last *night* on the rooftop of the highest building in the city.

As for keeping calm, don't worry about it. We both know what happens with people that don't follow the rules. "
To demonstrate her point, she takes the glass and throws it towards the ceiling but just before it touches it and breaks, it reappears on the bar.

Sunja

[Assistant]
Donnie laughed at her little power show before retrieving the glass and beginning to clean it. "I appreciate the offer, but I actually can afford a slightly better apartment, I just don't how to have nice things," he admitted, giving the serious statement in a joking tone so that she wouldn't think to pry. No one really knew about his past, him having always been tightlipped about most of his personal history despite encouraging others to open up to him. He had divulged his criminal history to Mr. Clark during his interview because it was required, but that was about it. No one knew that his last name was actually just the name of the orphanage he grew up in, or about his time on the streets with the gang and-aside from Mr. Clark- his subsequent prison time. No one would guess it by looking at him either, what with his wide, innocent smile and bouncy curls. He was nothing like the brash and aggressive kid that existed before his powers fully manifested.

Then again, he supposed that being able to hear people's thoughts and experience their emotions as though they were his own would make anyone second guess any of their own actions. He couldn't really be upset about his attitude change either; he'd helped a lot of people with simple emotional pushes and a bit of mental prying should it be needed. He shook his head and refocused on Alexis.

"I'll get to it soon, especially with the way my neighbors are being. Hell, maybe I'll join you on the rooftops. It's probably pretty quiet up there," he said, tapping two fingers to his temple to show what he meant. "I used to fall asleep watching the city lights from rooftops, given that all the light pollution blocked out the stars. Is that why you do it?"

He'd always made sure not to use his telepathy on co-workers, preffering to learn about them in the normal way. He knew that people freak out at the thought of mental intrusions, and he did his best to keep everything comfortable within the club, including ensuring all workers that he'd never use that power without them knowing.


[System]
Age: 42
Gender: Male

Personality: He likes to treat the office interns as his personal coffee jockeys. He's the type of boss that would refer to the company as being "like a family". And by "like a family", he means that he will cut your ass out of the will.

Appearance: A stocky man with a penchant for tweed suits, and hair styles perfectly to hide his receding hairline.

[User]
Not exactly human? Evie echoed in her mind. Then what is he? Upon arriving at the dungeon and hearing his words, she nodded in reply although wondering what he meant by it. A squeak of fright escaped her as the chest moved, she herself moving to the corner Lars had pointed to. She nodded again, her heart pounding inside her chest.

What the hell is going on here? She thought, getting her phone camera ready to record whatever was going to happen here. At least she was going to get some answers.

[Assistant]
They waited in the dimly lit room for what felt like an eternity. Whatever was in the chest would shake and growl every now and then. Finally, the heavy door creaked open again. The man that walked in was...underwhelming. His frame was small, and he was buried under the old, black wool coat he wore. His face was tucked into a scarf, hiding the lower portion. He walked into the room slowly, cautiously.

His eyes immediately found Evie. They were every bit as dark and wild as the photo. He froze, seeming to contemplate running.

"It's fine," Lars said, seeing their guest freeze. "She's fine. Let's just get on with it."

Lucas's head whipped around to glare at the priest. He nodded and moved towards the chest. Lars approached the chest too, his keys jingling once more. He began unlocking the numerous, heavy locks. When the last one finally fell, the lid flew open. Long, spidery tendrils shot out. Lars barely managed to avoid getting snatched by one. He backed away until his back hit the cold, stone wall. Lucas, on the other hand, held his ground.

The screeching roar emitted from the chest was not from this world, and neither was the monster seemingly trying to climb out of it. The many arms and tentacles searched for something to grab as a roundish body pulled itself up towards the room. That chest was apparently a lot bigger on the inside than it appeared.

Lucas took a few steps towards the beast, and it actually withdrew from him. The man began to emit light from seemingly nowhere, and the tentacles within the vicinity of him caught fire. When Lucas reached the chest, he shot his hands out and touched the monster. It wailed a horrible cry of pain as it's body caught fire and burned to ash. Soon, the entire thing was gone, and the room was eerily silent.

[User]
Evie found her breath catching in her throat as Lucas stared at her, reaching deep into her soul. He looked frightened, surprised even to find her there. She watched the two carefully, still unsure as to what was happening exactly. A startled cry choked as she remembered not to make a sound; but she wanted to scream in terror at whatever was crawling out of the chest.

She watched in awe as light appeared from Lucas before he finally ended the monstrosity. It wasn't until the silence ran on for an eternity she realized she didn't record any of it. How could she? Everyone would debunk it as a hoax or CGI. "What...what was that thing?" She asked, finally finding her voice.

[Assistant]
"A demon," Lars answered grimly, peeling himself off of the wall. "One that's overtaken a host. They're rare, but they've been getting increasingly more common with every day."

Lucas was already slinking out of the room. He was definitely not very sociable.

"Demons that possess people, like they did to Mrs. Reynolds's son, can't overtake the human form on their own. They need help. And that's the most disturbing part: someone is creating these things. Taking people off of the street, and forcing demons inside of them." Lars seemed very heated about this topic. This was clearly a very personal fight to him.

[User]
"A demon? As in from hell demon?" Evie asked, terrified. This couldn't be real and yet...she did witness it all. "But why? Why force demons inside of people? Especially those on the streets, they haven't done anything." She pointed out before noticing Lucas was gone. "Hey! Wait!" She exclaimed, heading out of the room to follow him.

"Wait, I want to talk to you!" She called out.

[Assistant]
Lars nodded, confirming that this demon was, in fact, from hell. "We have theories on who's doing it and why, but nothing we can prove. How do you explain this," He motioned to the chest, "To the authorities?"

He watched her chase after Lucas, and gave a short chuckle. "Good luck. He's long gone." He walked over to the door. "He's not very friendly."

[User]
Evie sighed softly as questioning Lucas ran cold before glancing over at Lars. "How long have you two been doing this?" She inquired, no longer in the dark about the horrible truth. Demons were real, able to possess people and even now forced into them. All of it felt like a bad dream.

"What about Partway? What happened to him?"

[Assistant]
"A few years," Lars said as he began leading her back to the world above ground. "Isaac was the one who brought this one in. Him and Lucas. He doesn't typically come to these things; he mostly handles the exorcisms with Lucas."

When they were back in the church, Lars locked the door of the basement once more. "I was unfortunate enough to be introduced to this stuff when I was young. If everyone knew the truth, we'd have a shot at stopping the people doing this."

[User]
"You keep it hidden because it would cause mass hysteria and a witch hunt." Evie realized, looking at him. "If everyone in New York knew, they'd either panic or go looking for danger. No matter what, the people causing this win, especially if there's people on the hunt to stop them."

She sighed softly, running her hands over her hair. "I don't know what I'm going to tell Joe about this. He'll either believe me or fire me on the spot. Either way, I know some of the truth now."

[Assistant]
"I, for one, believe this is a story that needs to be told," Lars said. "The people behind this thrive on secrecy; shoving them into the public would cause panic, yes, but ultimately, they would finally be destroyed." One could get the feeling that Lars was very much a 'for the greater good' kind of guy.

He looked at her, an eyebrow raised. "You just witness a real, live demon being destroyed, and you're worried about your boss?" He said, assuming that was who she was talking about. He gave a soft chuckle. Lars led her back through the graveyard, but stopped short when they reached the gate. "I can't go any further. Have a good rest of your night." He saw her off and headed back inside.

On her car, tucked under the windshield wiper, was a folded piece of paper. Upon further inspection, it had writing on the inside. Scrolled in a very elegant cursive:

[User]
Evie looked at him, clearly he'd never met Joe before. She sighed softly as she followed him back out of the church and through the graveyard. "If you think telling this story and shedding light on the ones who are doing this is the right thing, then I'll make sure it gets out. Josh's death wasn't Lucas' fault. I'm sure he tried everything to make sure that poor boy wouldn't get hurt." She said before bidding him goodnight and heading to her car.

She blinked upon reading the note, looking around for whoever could have left it. No one else was around unless...but why would Lucas tell her to leave it alone? Especially with lives in danger? She glanced at the note again before getting into the car and heading home.

Once home, Evie showered and changed before looking back over her evidence, the mystery note now added to it all. She listened again to the tapes before giving up on trying to understand the garbled voice. With a yawn she headed to bed and was soon out cold.

[Assistant]
"What the hell were you thinking, Lars?!" Upon finding out about the witness to their demon killing last night, Isaac had driven up to the church to berate Lars. The priest was standing in the middle of his modest living quarters: a former classroom in an older section of the church turned into a studio apartment. It was neat, clean, and very plain. The furniture was mix-matched, leading one to believe that most of it was donated from different people. Plants lined the window sill, which sunlight was shining through. Isaac Partway had invited himself in while Lars was having toast and coffee for breakfast.

"People deserve to know the kind of danger their in," Lars said, "You wouldn't act, so I did."

"Lucas has been working his ass off, the last thing he needs if the media harassing him!"

"He's a grown man. He can handle himself."

"You're such a-" Isaac cut himself off before he went too far insulting one of the few allies he had. He was red in the face, his fists clenched.

"You should get in touch with that woman. If she gets exclusive rights to the story, you won't have to worry about the media. I'm sure she won't mind keeping your address and private lives our of the lime light."

Isaac gritted his teeth, and forced himself to breath slowly. "When this blows up in our faces, you are cleaning it up," He said, pointing an accusing finger at the priest.

---

Her cellphone rang. The number was unknown. When she answered it, an unfamiliar man's voice spoke to her. "We need to talk," Isaac said.

[User]
The night had been restless for Evie as her mind wondered replaying everything over. The voice on the tapes, the fact demons were real, seeing one in the flesh getting exorcised, and Lucas. His eyes kept appearing in her dreams, eyes which didn't belong to any time whatsoever. Eyes which saw only hatred and fear towards the face of their owner. Eyes so full of mistrust towards outsiders like her.

She jolted awake when her phone rang, grabbing it as her eyes glanced at the number. Strange, perhaps someone calling her by mistake. "Hello?" Her voice croaked out as she rubbed her eyes. The voice she didn't recognize at all; a little gruff, serious, and a little older than Lars. It couldn't have been Lucas, he apparently never said anything. "I'm sorry, who is this?"

[Assistant]
"This is Isaac Partway. Meet me at the cafe on the corner of Waterford and Oak street at 2." With that, he hung up. It seemed, like his business partner, Isaac wasn't particularly sociable. Or, maybe it was just because he was pissed at having his hand forced. Whatever the reason for the curt phone call, when 2 o'clock rolled around, Mr. Partway was sat in his car, idling by the curb.

He was watching people walking towards the door of the cafe, looking for someone fitting Evie's description. When he saw her, he rolled down the window and hollered. "Evie! Over here." He leaned over to unlatch and throw open the passenger door of the car. This screamed 'stranger danger' everywhere. But, having already gone down into a literal dungeon with a strange man, an immortal, and an actual demon, why start being cautious now?

[User]
Issac Partway? Cafe at two? Evie's mind finally processed what was said before realizing he hung up before she could inquire anything else. She blinked as she stared at her phone before shaking her head. Ever since she agreed to this story things had gotten strange. But maybe that's what she needed, a little strangeness.

Evie looked around as two drew closer, unsure of what Isaac looked like. Upon hearing her name and seeing the car she was a little hesitant but overcame it. She had dealt with dangerous things so why stop there? "Mr. Partway?" She asked after she sat down.

[Assistant]
"In the flesh," Isaac said, almost begrudgingly. He began to drive. "I heard about what Lars showed you, and I don't particularly agree with his reasoning. However," He paused. "Seeing as the cat's out of the bag now, I guess we may as well do some damage control." He was heading out of the city and into an older suburb.

"If you're going to report on this, then I want to ensure that the privacy of everyone involved is maintained. I don't want to see my house on the 5 o'clock news. Or the church, for that matter." The houses in this neighborhood were a little on the run down side. The one they pulled into the driveway of was no different. It's lawn was mowed and neat, but the paint was peeling and the driveway was black with mildew.

Isaac stepped out of the car. "More importantly, while I may agree to this, there is one other person you have to convince." His keys jangled as he unlocked the front door. "Lucas is incredibly stubborn, and I have no intention of arguing with him." The house was quaint enough inside. It was fairly organized, if not terribly outdated. He walked her down a wood paneled hallway, and stopped at what looked like a, you guessed it, basement door.

"I won't agree to any interviews or documentaries until Lucas agrees as well. I told him you'd be stopping by to pay him a visit. Good luck." He opened the basement door and motioned towards the steps. Down below the stairwell led into a hall, which then lead into a large, open basement room. It was dimly lit by a single light bulb. Soft music was wafting from down below, from the unmistakable sound of a record player. The song was Louis Armstrong's La Vie En Rose. The tonal difference between the sweet song and the stark, concrete walls was baffling.

Isaac didn't come down with her. When she descended, it was only her and Lucas to sort out their differences. Lucas's dwelling consisted of the cement floored room with no windows. He had a twin bed pushed against one wall, the basement bathroom in all of it's green tiled glory, and several mismatched tables and odds and ends furniture here and there. It such a strange living space.

Lucas sat in a swivel chair, which he spun in to face the woman as she came down. He tugged his scarf up to further cover his face, and didn't make eye contact. It was very clear that he didn't enjoy his safe space being invaded. The record player, sitting on a table with a couple of books, popped and crackled softly as the music played.


[System]
Age:  It's complicated.

Gender:  As Cis male as an Angel can be

Main or sand: Main

Personality: Lucifer has a complex relationship with many things, especially himself and his family. While he presents as extremely confident and full of himself, deep down Luci still hates himself. His personality may come off as rather uncaring, but still manages to show how he does care in some of the oddest of ways. Lucifer is able to gain connections all over from his charm and angelic nature. Passing out favors is how he ties so many to him out of need to repay the debt one day, cashing the debt in whenever he so chooses. A deal with the devil is often depicted as him stealing your soul, not your liquor. Lucifer has a strict policy on not lying, though will often leave out parts of the truth. To him it's not lying if you haven't said anything false, and he is very strict on his policy to never lie to anyone. Ask him just about anything and he will answer in some kind of truth.

Equipment:  Lucifer never carries anything on his person. With his invulnerability to anything not demonic or holy he has no need to be armed. Just his fists and the flask he has stored away in his suit is all Luci has ever needed.

Attributes: Lucifer holds an immunity to everything non holy or demonic, it also gives him a major strength boost that acts in a similar way. He has bent metal, thrown a man through a window with a single push, guarded against an onslaught of bullets with just his wings, and survived being passed out in the American desert. Lucis strength has given him the upper hand in many situations, and is regarded as one of the strongest siblings. While he doesnt have any fancy powers, he makes due with his fighting knowledge. Lucifer's wings give him the ability to travel between dimensions, using them to get between earth and hell. On top of that his time spent in hell has given him an immunity to fire that he often flaunts off. To top off all his abilities Lucifer has the power to draw out desires, often using it in cases to help get a lead. Looking directly into someone's eyes allows him to pull at the deeper wants within, not many able to resist the pull. Aside from desires, any hints of his more devilish side has drawn people into fear and paranoia. Once he had drove a man into complete insanity with the mere look at his devil face. Some appeared to be almost immune to the paranoia effect, though almost everyone seems to react in even the slightest bit of fear.

Bio: Lucifer was cast down from heaven after leading a rebellion against God that ultimately failed. Being banned from ever going back to heaven, he spent his time going between earth and hell to have his fun. After having enough of ruling hell, he abandons his throne to go live a life running LUX. Though this ultimately doesn't work out in any way that he hoped.

Other:  Lucifer has shown knowledge and connections with others in the multiverse, but apparently doesn't care enough if faced with the end of everything. He much rather spend his time not worrying about something he can't help with. Though when he does care about something he can get very angry.

[User]
Voss and Sanford's CS
Voss' Location:
Undetermined

Voss' Mood:
Craving Violence

Voss' Status:
Scratched up, but otherwise healthy

Voss' Inventory:
Curved Saber
A pair of Jakobs pistols

Voss' Mentions:
[@teapartybs]@Thatguyinastore@Kagebaka@cadesmith@SomeMekBoy@TheRealMonaMona@ClownTown
Sanford's Location:
Undetermined

Sanford's Mood:
Oblivious

Sanford's Status:
Scratched up, but otherwise healthy

Sanford's Inventory:
A Meathook

Sanford's Mentions:
@Attesa@darkred

---

"Who am I?" Sanford finally turned to face Grey and, subsequently, Thomas. His constant chuckling and overall attitude so far came off as very jock-ish to the two. It's a wonder how the grunt could be so enthusiastic when he visibly has these wounds across his face and body that drip black tar. He pouts.

"I'm Sanford, A.A.H.W. butcherer extraordinaire! That's a fancy way of saying 'mercenary.' If you need someone like me to snuff a life out for ya and you got the cash, I'm the man! Aheha!"

For emphasis, he withdrew his signature meathook and grabbed it by the wire to spin the hook around like a fan. He rotated toward Thomas while still spinning the bloodstained weapon.

"Director of a spy agency? Doc would love you."

---

Voss started to cringe heavily as Fret didn't let off on the questioning. If he could, without risking to experience what happened to the guy with the bat, he'd shut Fret up the only way he knew how: with good ol' violence! Like grabbing him and shaking him like a newborn baby! Of course, threats could work just fine, but Voss had a feeling Fret was so dense they'd fly over his head. Thankfully for the hateful captain, he never really got a chance to answer, as Fret instead focused his attention on the answer Tosai got, and then discarded the curious nature entirely. Voss swiped his brow in relief.

"Phew! Aye, the pirate life, it's… uh… pretty cool I guess…" He almost brought that last part to a whisper before immediately returning it to his normal boisterous volume. He caught a glance of a blur flying across his peripheral and began to look around for where it came from. Voss rotated and stopped and rotated again in place several times in confusion, until eventually spotting Fret speaking to Negan in an angry, naive manner. Voss mindlessly followed Fret, now taking the role as the curious one. What exactly happened here?

"Ey ey, let's settle down, aye? Who threw huat? Who said huat? Gimme the juicy details!"

[Assistant]
Red Riding Hood

Mood - Overjoyed
Status - Healthy
Interactions/Mentions - @Midle1998

---

Upon hearing the Captain's surprised gasp, Red laughed a little before she was suddenly surprised by being lifted up in his arms, that once maintained smile being poisoned with panic - albeit panic that quickly passed. "Yeah, that's right - I'm here alright! You ain't getting rid of me this time!" She laughed a little more before being shook and held close and tightly - something she briefly reciprocated... before being put down and having her hair messed up. Of all the times her hood fell down, it 'had' to be while she was running to him, huh? "Well, I didn't intend to be in a glass cage today, but I woke up and here I am. But hey! Seeing as I'm here, it'd be a shame to waste the opportunity if we're not gonna get it for another long time!" With a bright smile up to him, she raised a closed fist up to him as she stared at him from such an angle. It may not have been a planned reunion, but no job is gonna separate them this time!

...Right?

[User]
---

The scuffle involving the rat seemed to end well, with the rat unharmed and their clothing being repaired by some...mystic Force stone or some made-up stuff like that. However, the beast responsible had disappeared into the crowd of people within the cage. Whether beast or girl, Maisha doubted it would be easy to hunt her down with so many people in the way. She might an issue in the future, but Maisha didn't have the means to take care of her now without catching anyone else with his literal field of fire.

The Mandalorian put out of his mind the thought as he scanned the room. He wasn't looking for anyone in particular, just trying to get a lay of the land. The Galaxy was a big place and he got to see a lot of it in his occupation, but these people were beyond strange to him. Plenty of them were human or near human, but their clothes, weapons, and armor didn't resemble anything he'd seen before. It was dizzying to look at and process.

One particular figure stood out and alarmed even Maisha. If the hideously burned pale face lacking eyelids wasn't enough to scare everyone else away  the knife embedded into their skull without any seeming ill effect certainly did. No one was helping the kid, and it was quite understandable. Maisha would be put off by a man who survived being stabbed in the important part of their body. However, not knowing the circumstances, he abided by his own personal code as an Arbintz.

Approaching this strange man, Maisha procured a bacta patch from his belt with one hand and kept his other hand ready to defend himself at a moment's notice. This was true for most people he met, but especially for such an off putting character.

"You okay with that kal in your head? I have a bacta patch. I highly recommend that you take it for your wound."

---

Location: Some Glass Cage

Physical Condition: Mild Concussion

Mental Condition: Cautious, Offput

Mentions/Interactions:

(Head Knife Boy need help?)

[Assistant]
---

Yoshikage Kira

As Lucifer went on, Yoshikage Kira listened attentively, although his body language did not betray it. He gazed over at the One-Winged Angel and his gaggle of fools with a resigned, almost whimsical expression, eyelids hanging half-closed to demonstrate his disinterest. If the Devil himself claimed to fear the white-haired man, then Kira was of no mind to disagree, but his was a set of skills tailored to work in tandem with the attribute that he had built all his life on. If the whims of fate willed it and the two parties came to blows, Yoshikage Kira could very well die in the fray, of course. But he had in his possession a power unlike any that the One-Winged Angel or the Devil himself did, from the look of things. More than any companion, Kira could always turn to his fortune. If necessary, that was all he needed to rely on, for better or for worse.

A quiet smile crept onto his face for but the blink of an eye. No matter the odds, luck would always side with Yoshikage Kira.

"Of course," Kira began, accompanying the words with a resigned shrug. "Their battles are theirs alone, I would say. Just as your battles are yours to fight, and mine in turn. Although..." Kira swept his eyes along the One-Winged Angel's blade, mildly surprised at his capacity to keep it upright despite its frankly gratuitous size. "If I were to fight, I doubt I would lose to anyone."

As the conversation flowed further, Kira flowed with it, listening quietly and doing his best to keep the racket of the mewling reprobates on the other side of the cage out of his ears. No walk in the park, of course, but the measure of a man was the trail of adversity he left behind him, and Yoshikage Kira's trail was certainly long enough by its lonesome. He had overcome every obstacle set before him, and did not intend to stop on the account of another, no matter how grand he thought himself.

"Of course not," Kira agreed. "Although, I'm afraid I'm not a believer. I suppose I should change my ways, now that I've been offered proof?" Then, Kira hesitated, for just a moment. "No, I believe it's too late for my soul to be saved now. It's no matter - I never held the Lord in high esteem to begin with."

Almost on instinct, Kira's fists tightened, one balling tightly in his blazer pocket. "If there is one thing Yoshikage Kira is not, it is useless. I'll play along with our little game, for the moment. If nothing else, it stands to be entertaining. All of these fools in one place, who knows the destruction they could cause with nary an eyelid batted? Surely, our cause must be important if it's worth taking such a gratuitous risk..."

[User]
Words from the other had made Lucifer look over at him, an amused look of his face. A short chuckle and a shake of his head, the devil didn't seem phased at all. More amused than anything. The man seemed to have an ego, easily twisting words. Though now Lucifer new a little more about his new buddy.

"Why take the risk at all if you don't have some fall back? I've dealt with too many humans, if this man doesn't have some way to keep us on the proverbial leash then I'd be throughly shocked."

Lucifer seemed to brush any possible threats aside, remaining calm. He had no reason to fear Kira so far, as far as he was aware he was just cocky. He had bigger things to worry about, fighting his fellow cagemates wasn't one of them. It was boring to have threats thrown at him, but he doesn't want to test the waters just yet. He stepped away from Kira a bit, looking around again but keeping an eye on the action.

"If you're so confident, maybe we should both play the peace keeper. The more hands working together the better, and after all we all want to go home. Less death the better- for now. I know I might either way, but if you're as strong as you claim I could use the help. Admittedly I don't have many powers that aren't good for non-humans. And as I've discovered- other angels from other places are much stronger than I am, so 9 times out of 10 I'll lose to another me. Absolutely dreadful if you ask me, partly why I hate the damn muktiverse. There's always a bigger fish in the sea!"

Turning back around and facing Kira, Lucifer looked him down once more. He looked rather frustrated, but his posture was still rather lax and calm. No huge worry clearly showing anywhere other than his face and the slight stress to his lean. Neither of them liked the situation or wanted to be here, they could work better together. Even if Lucifer takes a supportive role four hands are better than two, plus he has wings and an immunity to fire. Luci could be very helpful even if he doesn't have a ton of powers.

"So, what do you say? It's easier to take others down if you have a buddy! I'm not completely useless you know, even if we can both hold our own it's easier with a small team I've learned."


[System]
Age: 18
Gender: Male
Appearance: Dark black hair, Pale face, Pearly white eyes(Blind), 5ft 11in,
Beast: Rat
First Weapon Type: Necro and Healing cards
School:Necromancy
Day 1:
Period 3: Dragon Speak
Period 4: Sparring
Day 2:
Period 5: True Sight
Day 3:
Period 2: Potions/Alchemy
Period 4: Magic duelling
Period 5: Protection
Personality: Very morbid outlook, Finds death humourous, Gentle, Soft-spoken, Kind, Want to help others
History: Born in Marleybone to unknown parents, Wolf Ironheart has been an orphan ever since he became four and was later raised by the Rattans of the city. He found his magic powers when one day, as he was sitting and listening to the sounds of the sewer, he hear the spirits of those who have passed away there. He eventually was able to navigate perfectly by "seeing" the spirits around him. One day, after stealing from Malastare Drake, he was admitted to Ravenwood as Death Student and also studied Life under Malistare's wife's kind eyes. When she had died and Malistare tried to recruit students to rebel against Ravenwood, Wolf refused and asked to be transferred.

[User]
"Magic." Bobby says as the shadow guy shut the door. "Convenient, huh? He didn't even have to reach down to get that. Welp, better tell them that this," he waves his hand at the door, "You know, this nonsense won't be stopping anytime soon. See ya' round maybe."

With that he gave Ruby a wave and ambled back the way he came, leaving her alone in the hall.

[Assistant]
~Ruby~

. Ruby looked around as she suddenly found herself to be alone. After she lit her cigarette she took one big sip and placed her free arm in her pocket, when she heard her key jingling. Its time to meet her room. She walked through the long corridor with the high roof and the candles on each side, that gave some light to the old building. After a while she found her door with the number 202 on it. She placed the key in the keyhole and turned it to the left.
 She was amazed by the beauty of her room, it fitted precicely her tastes. Old fashioned, with wooden surfaces and floor and a wonderful wooden bookcase. She soon noticed the open window. She got curious at first, and then cautious. Looking around, she looked for the intruder, soon to realise a black cat behind the bed. Ruby got closer, and stroked her head.
"Where did you come from? You must be someone's, you're too clean to be a stray cat." She lifted the cat and sat on the bed, having the cat on her legs, she kept stroking her, and sang her a song, quietly.

[User] Slieb the shapeshifter sat contently on the lap of the girl. She decided to stay in the role of a cat to prevent any problems. If the girl puts her down she will leave but for now she is more than content. She purrs quietly.

[Assistant]
~Ruby~

Ruby felt very tired. she soon rested her back on the bed ,still stroking the cat, untill se eventually fell asleep. It was a peacefull sleep, with no nightmares nor dream intruders. She had left the window open though, and the cold breeze didn't fail to chill her skin.

[User]
Slieb hearing her asleep carefully exited from her grip and jumped out the window running along the ornate window sills getting back to her open dorm window where he changed into a human form and he closed the window then laid down in bed for the night. Silently purring in his sleep, a side effect of him being in cat form for too long.

(Cue everybody starting to fall asleep/be in there dorms. If you don't go soon I will assume you are there and continue to the next day.)

[Assistant]
The school fell into a quiet as people started to sleep. Sighing in relief of the numbers that had arrived the Headteacher laid down in bed and closed his eyes, the world falling away.

MORNING

Some people wake up early, others lay in but for all the students it would be an exciting day. The day where they pick which type of magic they would like to dabble their hands in. When the students wake up they will find their door locked and in front of it a table with a piece of paper and a pen on it. On the paper there was each school that teaches in the school next to a tickbox above a description of the schools which also contains an essence of the energy of the school to give a deeper feel of it. When they tick a box the paper, pen and table will disappear and the door will unlock.

[User]
Savannah rubbed her eyes and laid in her half way made bed for a little while before deciding to get up. As she looked around the room, everything seemed normal; well at least as normal as it could be. Then she gazed upon the table randomly placed in front of her door in confusion. Did she put that there to prevent people from possibly breaking in? No, she is too trusting for that. As her tired eyes fell upon the paper, she saw boxes to check.
 "Boxes. Always boxes to check," she muttered with annoyance.
Her being the only smart individual in her high school class, she had gotten used to checking boxes no one else had to check. Between financial aid for college, extracurricular activities and scholarships, she had checked enough boxes to put the post office delivery to shame. As she looked at her options, she saw her school. Diviner. This school had always piqued her interest and she was so glad she had gotten accepted. As she checked the box she belonged in, the table, pen and paper disappeared and she heard the tumblers turn and the click of the lock as her door slowly opened. She had not gotten dressed yet so she closed it with satisfaction knowing that she would soon open it again and walk out towards her new school.

[Assistant]
Bobby slowly opened his eyes as his body went through its morning boot-up process. For a moment he didn't know where he was, but that was all right. He never really did. He sat up in his small bed and looked around the room, the memory of yesterday seeping into his mind.

Magic School, it reminded him. He reached over onto the little side table and picked up the key he'd gotten after the initial tour and looking at it. That thing had done exactly what the professor something-or-other had said it would do. It brought him here. To this room. He'd really tested it last night, going on a long walk about while waiting for that one guy to quit yelling. A real wander like when he was a little kid. This key though? It brought him right back to this room. If he had this he would never be lost. If everyone had this no one would ever be lost.

Magic had lead him back here.

Magic had lead him to a good school like his parent dreamed for him.

Magic. Convenient.

He got up and tucked the key into his pocket before the new thing in the room caught his attention. He looked down the list of options on the table, one in particular catching his eye. Myth. Power of imagination and all that. Power of the mind. A class about remembering things? How much better would it be, he thought, if he could better remember things. If this class going to force that he may as well take it.

School was about getting better at things, wasn't it?

He checked the box and suddenly, where there had been a desk and everything, there wasn't anymore. He looked down at his hand as the tumbled in the doors lock, disappointed. "I don't get to keep the pen?" he asked aloud. Then he shrugged and stepped outside.

[User]
~Ruby and Adam~

Ruby was asleep on her bed, at the position she was when she layed with the cat. She found her body cold when she woke up, as the window was still open. She opened her eyes slowly and and blinked two or three times. She normally would curl her body under the blanket, but the excitement of the new place wouldn't let her.
 She stood up and closed the window, rubbing her arms as she made her way to the bathroom. She brushed her teeth and tied her hair with a beautiful burgund red long ribbon. Heading to the door she stumbled on the small table with the pen and the paper on. After reading all the titles, stumbling on some for she liked many, she ticked the elementals field. Before she would change her mind the new things vanished before her, and the door knob turned to the right, as a clinging sound echoed.

 Adam woke up while it was too early. Before opening his eyes he reached his hand out to find his cigarettes. As his hand travelled on the bedsheets it stumbled on something else. He opened his eyes instictively just to find the same wooden table with the pen and paper. He looked at it briefly and then took a cigarette that he put in his mouth, and lit it right after. Taking a big sip first, and letting the smoke come out in rings right after, he gave himself a minute to wake up and breath in all the nicotin that his body was lacking during his night sleep. He then proceeded in reading the paper. He needn't much time though. He quickly ticked the "Adept" box and just like it happened with everyone else, the table vanished, along with the piece of paper and pen. Adam wore his pants and put on his shirt, without bothering to button it and he went off, to find some breakfast or something.
 Getting out of the door he saw Ruby walking by.
"Morning sunshine." He said in a rather moody tone with a raspy voice since he had just woke up, and hugged her playfully.
"Your bare chest is not the first thing people would like to see when they wake up." Ruby said and hugged him back. "Where to?"
Adam scratched his head and took another sip of his cigarette. "I don't know. The Zoo?"
Ruby punched him on the arm playfully. "How about some breakfast?"
"Breakfast it is then!" He added with a pinch of joy. "So, it's guessing time Ruby girl. Adept? Life Mage?"
Ruby smirked. "Elementals. You should know that."
He snapped his fingers and grinned. "Damn! You got me."
She gave him a little smile, still looking forward. "Adept, Beast Speaker."
"That's called cheating. You should've been an oracle or something."

[Assistant]
The first a foremost thing on Bobby's mind as he wandered out of the dorm area was breakfast, and whether or not he would be able to find it. Or pay for it. On the first day it had been complimentary but maybe that was just a first day deal. He had a couple hundred dollar of spending money in his wallet, an allowance in case of emergencies, but magic food would be more expensive wouldn't it? Or would it be less? They'd taken the pen back, so maybe this place was run by cheapskates.

As he took a step out of the dorm complex his attention was torn away from his hunger situation to a cloak hanging in midair, a light breeze rustling the fabric. That reminded him: he didn't have any other clothes. Everything was still packed in his suitcase back at the hotel. He stopped to think about this as the garment floated there. Maybe he could have mom and dad send it over? He could call on his cell, but he didn't want to waste the minutes or power on something that wasn't urgent. He looked back at the cloak. "Do you know where I could find a phone?"

Suddenly information flooded into his mind, pushing past the conscious and into the subconscious. He knew now, on some deep instinctual level, where he was expected to be right now and most expedient way to get there. It felt weird, like when he's been drawn here in the first. He shook his head to get the weirdness off. "Professor Smith. Thanks."

With a wave to the cloak he set off to meet his teacher and, mayhap, find a land line.

[User]
PERIOD 1 STARTS!
The professors who had been preparing since early in the morning finished any last minute arrangements for their new students. Some had sent their older students to study whilst others had kept them in to help them.
The new students started arriving...

[Assistant]
There was a lot of people moving around. A lot of people moving around with purpose? He wondered why they'd decided to come here. Follow the direction in their heads to come to this place. There were more than a few that looked super foreign, who must have had come an awfully long way. It seemed strange, to him, for any ordinary person to travel so far for a feeling in your head.

He'd done it too of course, but he'd follow the directions of any random sign, pointed arrow, or interesting rock formation. They didn't have an excuse.

It was while thinking on this that he stumbled upon where he needed to be.

[User] As the boy (@Gentlemanvaultboy) walks up to the school he will find about 39 others joining him. All of them approaching the same bright orange building that looked like a medieval castle with gargoyle statues lining the roof, writing flowing around the stone and two minotaur statues either side of the entrance. Yet they seemed more real than statues. Almost as if they were breathing. When the first student got within 5 steps of the building the foors opened revealing a brightly lit corridor leading to 'Grand Hall' sort of area with individual desks either side of the main table and a man with a rather long nose and disdainful look apon his face ar the far end sitting behind a desk in Yellow robes.

[Assistant]
Bobby, by dint of having nothing better to do this morning than set out, was among the first to approach the large orange building. He was possibly also the only one that didn't stop, or hesitate just a bit, when the door began to open. After all, automatic doors were just convenient. They had those at the supermarket, why wouldn't they be at a fancy place like this? For whatever reason, the boy who was usually last to arrive at anything was the one leading the pack.

His immediate concern once he entered was weather or not there was assigned seating. He looked around the room to see whether there were little cards with names on the desks like they'd done in elementary school. Seeing none, and thus having no direction whatsoever, he went to find a desk on the right side because that was closest.

[User] professor sniffed with approval of the boys seating. After all in his classroom it was boys on the right and girls on the left. Everyone should know that in his opinion. If one sat on the wrong side he was tempted to leave them there and count them as that gender but decided against it. Instead a massive cyclops would a appear out of nowhere and carry the pupil to the right side. The school year hadnt REALLY started for them this year (next day it does) but he wanted them to learn quickly. Hed sent Demetrius away to study some books of names for the day. He sat there in silence analysing the class with a certain look of disgust on his face.

[Assistant] "Get away! Stop Whispering at me!" I yell, swinging my walking staff around at what can only be described as ghosts or spirits.


[System]
Gender: Female
Age: ~18
Race: Half Maiar (Basically a human with fish like characteristics.)
Alignment: Chaotic-Evil
Class: Spellsword
Appearance: imgur.com/a/IG2dH#0
Personality: Y'know, I,ve written this I don't know... dozens of times already, and it hasn't been getting easier over time. So I'm just going to stick with the short and simple version. Savaymin has multiple personality disorder. To quote shakespeare, this madness has method in't. Her inconsistencies work out in her favor, and usually work against the favor of her enemies in some way or another. Only a few things remain consistent, including her instincts, phobias and preferences. One thing for certain about her personality is that she is a blast to hang out with. If you know what I mean...
Arsenal:
- Spiked gauntlets: Her main choice of weaponry. Extremely sturdy, but only protects a small portion of her arm.
- small bags filled with gunpowder and other flammable objects: One bag also contains the antidote to her poisonous dagger. Yes, the antidote is also flammable.
- a short sword: Looks kind of regal. Encrusted with gold and heavily decorated. Not sure if it's just for show or...
- a poisonous dagger: Coated with a numbing agent that can be lethal in heavy doses.
Magic: (Mana reserves: 2 spellhours)
Savaymin requires spell runes and some amount of concentration for most of her spells. Most of her weapons have runes already drawn on them. A spellhour is how much mana a spell takes up in an hour. For example, she would only be able to keep up her flamethrower for half an hour. It takes twice as long for her mana to recharge.
Candleflame - 0 spellhours: A small match-like flame that can be used to set things on fire.
Will o' wisp - 1 spellhour: A runeless spell that can be used to shine light or make small precise burns. It takes up a lot of concentration to keep active though.
Flames lv1 - 1 spellhour: A flame that starts out at 600 Celsius, engulfing the object and increases by 200 Celsius per each level. (add 1 spell hours for each additional level)
Fireball - 2 spellhours: A ball of fire with a three inch radius is launched.
Flamethrower - 4 spellhours: As the name implies.
Heat generation - 1 spellhour: Either turns into an area of affect spell around a rune and heats up a specific area by a few degrees, or can be concentrated to heat up specific objects marked or touching a rune instead.
Explosion - 5 minutes: The explosion has a one meter width radius and requires a rune drawn on the explosion target to activate.
Pheonix form - 12 spellhours: Gives Savaymin a cloak of flame and temporary flight/levitation for as long as it is active, but requires a large rune for her to stand in to activate initially.
Weaknesses:
- An extreme phobia of chains.
- A strong maternal instinct
- overly defensive enemies
Strengths:
- enemies who rely on a premade plan in order to win.
- overconfiddent enemies
- predictable and overly cliche enemies

[User]
Trekking up a long and winding pathway, her scarlet cloak billows in the frigid nitrogen breeze. A thousand stone tablets stacked in a row behind her, and a dozen or so left to go. The vagrant travels to this hallowed and barren land in search of something. Few have gone before her, but all have failed. They all lacked the quality necessary for accomplishing this godforsaken feat. And before you guess, no, it did not include their lack of intelligence. The quality that was equally void in all of their souls was the ability to care for the fabled guardian of the treasure. Their desire for gold and glory distracted them from the true point of this journey. Being worthy of that worthless hunk of gold. Each and every person before her had one thing in common: they were not worthy. One guardian guards the historically old building for one purpose, guarding the treasure until one of true worth comes to take it from him.

The Scarlet stranger, now only a few more slabs away from it's destiny, halts in recognition of it's adversary that greats them. It stands there in silence, marveling the battle scene that so rightfully makes itself known to each of them. The guardian and the challenger face to face to see who the winner is. But as all fairy tales go, it would be anticlimactic for the heroine to lose after walking all this way.
Still hidden behind her hood, the guardian's new opponent addresses him, "I have come from far, far away to challenge you. I suppose you know what I want?"

[Assistant] The armored guardian tilts his helm down a fraction to view the comer in red, his ice-blue eyes coldly regarding her from behind the eye-slit. In a voice proud and strong, he replies to her declaration. "I know you want it enough to come from far, far away, as did all who came before you. I know you are here to take it, if you can, as did all who came before you. I do not know if you will succeed, or if you will fail, as did all who came before you. Before you learn what it is you came to obtain, and choose whether or not to lay claim to it, you must prove yourself worthy. Are you prepared to test yourself against me?" His statement, with not a hint of condescension, nor admiration, merely the neutral respect given an unknown opponent, rang forth over the muted sounds of the wind and snow. Yet even so, his figure remained still, beyond his initial motion.

[User]
She seemed to be at a loss for words, staring at the guard with a look on her face as if wondering whether this guy was serious. She cleared her throat and spoke up again, "Actually, I'm just here to take your job. Not... whatever you just said..." She takes a moment to pause and search for something on her belt. This continues for a few seconds before a look of realization dawns on her face. Gripping onto the side of her blood red coat with what seems to be a spiked gauntlet she sighs, "you kinda threw me off guard with that cryptic mumbo jumbo, so... hows-about we just get straight to the point?" With one swift motion she rips her cloak off and throws it to the side, revealing an arsenal of weapons all carefully prepared to take down the heavily armed foe before her.

"I'll make the first move," she grabs a hand sized bag around her waist and hurls it at her opponent. A fuse like string on top of the bag is lit to go off the moment it lands next to him.

Note: (the bag contains two chemicals. One that explodes, and another that creates a small lasting flame for ~30 seconds)

[Assistant]
The armored figure stands impassively as the challenger seems confused by his statement. He had no intention of attacking an unprepared opponent...but he had no particular issue with allowing the enemy to make the first move in this case. But what would it be...the gauntlets seemed to point to a mage or an unarmed combat specialist, but she seemed to have plenty of room to be an alchemist or some other fighter as well. He kept his sword and shield in a loose grip, ready to wield at the faintest need. Then she seemed to reach understanding.

"I'll make the first move."

Jacos smiles grimly as she initiates the fight...with a thrown bag with a fuse. A bomb...interesting. But a concussive device would be the last thing that would work on this guardian. With a keen eye he measures the bag's flight, then in a burst of motion he thrusts his left hand into the air, releasing the shield it held at the apex of its range of motion, sending it flying up to intersect the explosive and likely knock it up and away harmlessly. In the same smooth set of movement, he crouches low, then explodes upwards himself, launching himself into the air with his sword flipping up into its normal grip, a grip that was sending it downward to cleave his enemy in two as he descended on the no longer red-garbed opponent.

[User]
Had the bag been an actual grenade or bomb it would have been entirely deflected by the guardian's shield, but if you have ever tried hitting a small beanie bag out of the air then you should realize how the trajectory would change. The explosive bag, traveling in an upwards arc, collides with the shield, stopping it from moving forward but also sending it higher up. At this rate the bomb will most likely explode before even hitting the ground with the flames being spread out over a larger area. This would be the least of the guardians worries however, as he was moments away from realizing the mistake he had just made.

A smirk grows on the lady's face. Either she had expected her adversary to take the offensive initiative, or she was simply toying around with him. Jumping from such a far distance however had given her just the right amount of time to counter react to his attack. She held one of her metal covered hands up to block the opponents attack, and the other in a ready stance in case she would need it for any surprises coming her way. The observant eye would be able to recognize the runes carefully inscribed on the palms of her gauntlets, but the warrior only had a limited amount of things he could react and focus on before meeting face to face with his opponent. Whether or not he was mentally capable of calculating the meaning of the purple symbols in the milliseconds he had before landing was unknown. Regardless, he could not prevent all three attacks coming for him at once, and the girl new this quite well.

[Assistant] The Warrior had expected the bomb to go off behind him, and was unphased. The only thing that remained of that maneuver was now to regain his shield, but that could easily wait. For now, all that remained was to carry out his attack. To his surprise, his new enemy didn't make an attempt to dodge...she didn't look paralyzed in fear either. She was holding out a single hand to block his strike. That spoke of significant nerve...and unless there was something about her he didn't know about, which was almost certain, significant foolishness. He descended upon her like a bolt of crimson and silver from the heavens, swinging his blade downward in a two-handed grasp, his feet impacting the stone and ice in front of the enemy just before the sword came down to bring the full might of his slash onto this enemy. Can she block this? He would find out.

[User]
(The bomb in the air explodes, sending flaming debris across the battlefield)

This certainly was not what she was expecting. The guardian had gone from a one handed attack to a two handed one, gambling a boatload of strength into this one attack. Getting hit by that attack would either break her arm or send her down on her knees, perfect for an execution blow. By the time she realized this, her opponent had already touched down with the ground. It was now or never to react, so she decided to use her only escape option possible in this scenario. Activating the rune on her gauntlet that was only seconds away from intercepting his deadly attack, she uses her flamethrower spell. Using her mana as fuel she quickly spins around on the ice, narrowly avoiding the attack by a hairs length. Of course, all this did was manage to help her survive his first attack. Right now she was in an unfavorable position for dodging any more super powered swings.

Her spinning momentum would give her the tools necessary to retreat. Her opponent swing had left him vulnerable to a single attack, for the momentum of his attack would prevent him from carrying out an instant followup with the weapon that he carried. luckily for him, Savaymin had no armor penetrating that she could capitalize on, leaving her with only one option. swinging her gauntlet, she strikes her armored foe in the back of the head. The sound of metal clashing metal echoes, probably more so in the warrior's ears than in hers. Hoping that did the trick of disorienting him, she attempts to back step away from her adversary. She needed to distance herself so that she could prepare for the next time he lunges at her.

[Assistant] Jacos allows himself just a tiny fragment of his mind to recognize the humor in his opponent spinning aside with a rocket-propelled hand. But just a tiny fragment. The mighty runeblade comes down and slices empty space, before sending chips of ice flying as it gouges a cut in the frozen stone. He keeps his eyes to his opponent as he prepares to follow up on his offense, only to receive a heavy strike on the helmet, knocking his head down and aside for a moment. But he was not impaired, the strike wasn't anything to really brag about beyond the fact that it landed, and his armor was unharmed. Only a moment after the strike landed, with speed that belied the warrior's size, he rebounded back, swinging his body around back towards his foe, and one hand releasing it's useless grip on his sword to fly around at the challenger. His sword wasn't his only weapon, he was just as capable of throwing unarmed punches as his attacker. As it swung, his gauntlet glows white as he triggers a concussive strike, ready to hit her with with a backhand strike possessing the force of a battering ram.

[User]
(Things are starting to heat up.)

The flames sprinkled down, like a thousand candles lit up and gracefully descending around them. Red flickering tongues landed on the ground around them, some even made there way on top of the two enemies fighting to the death. The lights contrasted beautifully with the icy white landscape. The Guardian, ignorant to the sudden terraforming going on around him, launched his own plated hand at his foe. Little did he know, the smile she had on earlier was still there.

The calm and collected Savaymin raises her right hand to block her opponents blow. This was nothing compared to what her cousin Dilloh could dish out with his gigantic sword, so she only needed one hand to stop it. All thoughts of retreat in her mind melted away as the inner demon within her revealed itself. Pure sadistic joy filled her body, invigorating her to punish this lowlife who thought they could beat her. Her other hand sparked to life with flames now fully covering it. She raised it slowly compared to the pace of the battle, but even an idiot could tell what she was planning with it. From ashes you were created and to the ashes you will return.