[System]
Appearance: Standing to the full height of 5'1" but regularly slouching to the height of 4'6", Kritch's smaller than average height is used to his advantage within the degregated hellscape. Kritch has patchy black fur that barely covers his grotesque muscular bipedal rat body, his beady red eyes constantly run over his surroundings, and his malformed hands and feet are to fit those giant razor sharp claws. Kritch's molars and incisors are also formed to be as sharp as knives, and at all times ready to cleave through flesh for the regular greedy mouth of the rat. Lastly, his clothes are made up of torn rags that cover his body to a good degree, managing to keep most of his body covered in weak cloth but allowing his movements to be completely free for his erratic move set.

Gender: Incubic

Personality: Constantly on the verge of breaking down to his primal instincts, Kritch finds himself at all times in a rather irritated mood, and will most likely bite anyone that would get too close to him. So, normally, you can find him being rather fidgety and suspicious of almost everything that surrounds the demon, and especially on people that he is told to trust.

Greatest Sin: Envy, ignoring the fact that gluttony and greed are almost on the verge of controlling the small-minded rat, envy is the sin that Kritch feels the most whenever he sees any living being. The struggle to suppress his very instincts are hard enough, but watching creatures able to fully act in whatever way they want without any hardships at all has made the rat green with envy.

Motivation: Kritch believes that if he gets out of hell, away from his race of disgusting creatures that he calls family, he can will himself to rid the constant urge to murder everything around him without any influence from where he was born. He wants to be away from the mentality of his race and birth place and turn into something that he can call just himself rather than labeled as some rat fighting against their blood.

Biography: Born in hell, Kritch was made as small units of demons to serve one of the higher ranking rat demons for their various purposes as either extra food, slaves, or used as disposable soldiers. Kritch for some strange reason was created accidentally with a higher sense of intellect compared to the rest of his kin. Maybe it was some divine punishment or intervention when it came to morphing his body, but for some reason he could have something more than just the regular basic mindset of following orders blindly and surviving off basic instincts. Kritch hid this fact from his superiors, allowing someone like him as smart as his masters would end his life fairly early by being ordered to be eaten by his own kin. So, he bided his time, allowing himself to mask his presence within the countless other small-minded rodents and deducing his escape against his supposed "superior" masters.

It wasn't too hard for Kritch to escape, most masters assume that they have complete control over their slaves, but all Kritch had to do is wait until most were either sleeping or fighting amongst each other. However, the problem with straying away from the swarm was that he was now just a weak starving rat that was all alone in the hellscape. It was hard to survive, but he knew that he wouldn't stoop so low as to survive off the basic instincts that would mindlessly control his life. So, stubbornly, Kritch survived on the scraps of other demons, but kept his sense of dignity to not revert back to his basic form. He trained and taught himself to act as a hidden agent, his movements faster than most demons and his small size able to easily hide himself in most situations. Kritch found himself living amongst the street rats, but it was better than being a mindless slave to his greedy masters.

This situation lasted for around three years, his body well-tuned and his instincts top notch to survive most stray encounters with other creatures that roam the land. He had even taught himself some magic, basic magic, but none the less another added skill to survive and strengthen himself in the harsh landscape. He had accepted his fate, stubbornly going against his will of his mind and would rather survive and die on his own terms. Though, this didn't mean that Kritch found himself envious of the denizens of hell, he yearned for their lives of simplicity that they continue without even struggling against fighting their very nature. After years of looking upon strangers in the shadows, he soon turned bitter against these unknowing people, finding that these races take their lives for granted in not knowing the hardships of some that have to face for their entire life. This bitter resentment corrupted his soul as he soon found himself angry, suspicious, and generally a rather rude attitude to all around him.

Skills: Agile, fast, and small, Kritch finds himself able to climb and scurry against all forms of obstacles that is in his way. He is also able to easily shroud himself in shadows, and able to hide his sound as well on those rather quiet days to avoid alert. Also, his claws and teeth are able to slice through flesh rather easily, though tougher muscles and skin can still be injured rather than the neat cleave that is normally done to regular flesh.

* Skitterleap - In small distances, Kritch is able turn into smoke and travel at blurring speeds to appear in another location, he soon reappears in his physical form.

Gear: In self-defense, Kritch finds himself holding two sturdy weapons to defend his life. These weapons include a poisoned dagger meant to paralyze the body with a gruesome punching dagger to deal lethal punches to anyone that would come at him in a aggressive manner without any escape for the rat. The rest is the raged cloth that adorns his body, simply just two weapons and some clothing.

Theme Song:

[User]
Outside HPIS
The pissed off Cambion had succeeded in getting the attention of the security capped man in the window. As Jonathan joined in the effort, the security man raised a walkie-talkie like device to his mouth with a bandaged hand. It seemed the two had succeeded in getting the man to summon a few guards, but they'd need something more explosive to really get everyone's blood pumping. And that's exactly what Grog did. At just the cost of his entirety of the flesh on his pelvis and the ability to stand he certainly got the head guard's attention. The absolute bemused look on his face was quickly replaced by surprised as Nefas screamed something along the lines of "What was that?", though with a lot more cursing. While this was happening, Barkeep answered Toby's questions.

"You'll have about as long as the distractors last in combat. Luckily, the place isn't too technically advanced, just regular cameras. Doubt the head guard is looking at them right now though."

As Viliam made a new entrance to the asylum and they all entered, they would be greeted with a row of cell blocks to their left, as well as a guard near the end, luckily turned in the other direction and oblivious. Unfortunately, the prisoners were not oblivious, and one began making some noise, a small and annoying looking demon began jumping up and down and banging on the bars of the cell with his face. "Ehhehehe! Are you three new guards???? C'mon, let me out, let me out, it's play time!" He shouted, getting the attention of the guard near the end. Although Kritch was gone, already crawling around in the vents (though without looking at the closest cell block he'd have only a vague idea of which vent he was in and where he was going). This left Toby and Vile to get rid of the guard and the noisy prisoner as quickly and silently as possible.

While this was happening, two guards busted out into the front room, which was now being smoked up thanks to Grog's fireworks. The pair who had just walked in wielding a fire blanket, but at the sight of Deprave and John, threw down the tool and unsheathed their weapons; A billy club and a machete. The other guard, the one who had been there in stunned silence for a tiny while, quickly kicked one of the tables in the room over and pulled out a pistol, hopping behind cover and firing it at Deprave.

[Assistant]
Jonathan quickly raised his shield in a defense, and very slowly started strafing to around to the flipped table, and the guard with it as well. It was very hard to do near anything in this smoke because it was so thick, but once Jonathan felt the corner of a solid plank of wood, he knew where he was, and he quickly slammed his mace behind the table, hitting it on the guards shoulder. Immediately after, Jonathan ducked behind the table and swung at the man's head, which knocked him unconscious when the mace hit the skull.

Now that Jonathan was on the ground behind the table, he took a second to analyze the situation, and thats when he noticed a piece of paper on the ground next to the guard. Obviously, paper was meant to be read, so Jonathan picked up the paper and, to his dismay, found it was a child's drawing, and not even a good one. To describe it, one would say "man riding bear", and even then you could be misconstrued. Jonathan did like the idea of riding a bear though, so he'd probably ask about getting a bear mount later. Right now though, Jonathan held out the palm of his hand, with the hand facing the ceiling, and a golden light began to emanate from the air above it. Once the light began to shine, Jonathan prayed.

"Hail, Light. I come to thee with a question of dire straits. How long doth thy have until the cambion overseer of this asylum arrives?"

[User]
"God-damn fucking shit-smeared holy mother of FUCK that hurt." Grog screamed at himself, as he fell on his now bony ass, the last of his fireworks sputtering, while the speakers were finally losing power, and turning to dust. Hey, wouldya lookit that. He even got a guard with his babies. He hadn't actually expected to hit anyone with them, just make a show. Sure, the fireworks were spruced up to the point of being weaponry, but hell, he still used them like fireworks. Mentally patting himself on the back, he thought about his options. They were rather limited.

 It was a pretty hilarious sight, in all honesty. Him laying there, pants down to his knees, jacket pushed up to his chest, and a blackened, smoking pelvic bone where his precious jumblies once stood. His mind was working on overdrive, thinking faster than most men would ever think, trying to finally come up with a solution.

 "Power pint! Gimmie some beer."

 Yep, that was the stuff. Grog was once more relaxed. Sure, the pain was searing, but it could've been worse. Most of his nerve endings were probably singed anyways. Dangling the pint a breath above his head, and smelling his damp, liquor-soaked mask, he awaited for the inevitable outcome of this whole operation, be it positive or negative. Truth be told, he couldn't really care either way.

 Then, out of nowhere, an idea struck him in the head like a sledgehammer.

 "Hey Pint, give me your most balls-to-the-wall absynthe. And a whole -lot- of it."

 A sinister grin creeped into Grog's face as he retrieved his lighter.

[Assistant]
Kritch left almost immediately upon entering the prison, which frankly was to be expected. The rodent demon was the most twitchy, wary, cautious, and straight up paranoid of the whole bunch. Not that Villiam blamed him for it. After all, they were in Hell, not exactly known for producing the most trustworthy of citizens. Truth be told, his fleeing was already accounted for, and so the poison spirit paid Kritch's departure little mind. Instead he focused on getting as big of a riot going as possible, more vital now that the guard in the room was aware of himself and the one-armed kid. Making haste, Villiam slinked across to the cells. As he moved forward, he expelled a purple gas through the bars in the form of a cloud. Upon reaching the individual cells, he ran his fingers along the bars, corroding them with a thick fast acting acid.

"That cloud you just breathed in was a deadly neurotoxin, specifically designed to crawl through your body until the Manus can infuse directly to your soul, thus permanently ending your existence. You want to live? You want to be free? Fight Nefas' guards and I will produce the cure. Now riot as your lives depend on it." Villiam had backed himself up against the furthest wall from the guard at the end of the cell line. Keeping his back against the wall was for more than ensuring he kept sight of any prisoners that might wish to do him harm, for it was also his escape plan if his gambit went poorly. Of course he was lying about the nature of his poison cloud, spirits couldn't convert Manus into a substance then back into pure Manus, but they did not necessarily have to know that. No, it was a simple cloud of methane, mixed with a number of other chemicals to mask the distinct scent, but look foreboding all the same.

[User]
It was pretty dark within the maze of enclosed metal, but it didn't matter too much as Kritch's all seeing eyes had been accustomed to the darkness well enough for him to see almost 60 feet in pure darkness! However, it didn't matter much as his knowledge on the path way of the yet to be rescued prisoner was quite limited. Sure, he could've scouted out the prison more with the other two criminals to get a better layout in his mind, but it was in his best interest to stay away from anyone that could kill him... And that would be everyone in this damn place. He was quite far away from both teams at the moment, scurrying along the metal floor, but could still hear some faint fighting in the background echoing through the vents. The group that he had left shortly was silent... For now, but Kritch could only imagine what that gas-thing could be doing at the moment without his supervision. Kritch shuddered at the thought of that thing touching his skin with those corrosive hands, though he continued along the vents with just a general idea of his location and pathing to the lizard-thing's cell.

Stopping in his tracks after a minute of running around this dark maze, Kritch pulled out the dataslab once again from his clothes with the bright light shined on his rather ugly face. He started to tap on the device carefully with those deadly claws before finding himself at the map once again, the rat studied the layout of the prison, calculating the general path that he had taken and the various cells surrounding the lizard-thing. Kritch looked back down at the metal floor with a dire question within his mind, judging if this would actually lead him to his intended destination. He wondered the possibility of stumbling upon a highly dangerous criminal in one of these cells or finding himself surrounded by guards due to the entire force mobilizing from his rather idiotic and violent teammates. Kritch didn't want that to happen as meeting those situations would make his life end in an untimely manner. So, carefully sliding out his knife from the worn-out sheathe, he stabbed at the vent gently creating a tiny hole within the bottom for his tiny eye to peek through without revealing his presence. The light emanating from the eye hole was shining brightly into the dark vents, Kritch squinted at the bright light for a few moments before his all-seeing eye was placed against the tiny hole and rapidly scanned the area that the eye hole could possibly show to the cautious rat.


[System]
Gender: Female

Age: 433 actual age, 24 in presented age.

Appearance:

Due to her dislike for the official shinigami kimono look, she's long decided to do it her own way. Tying up the torso-part of the robe around her waist, she instead keeps a sleeve-less tunic on show. Think like this, just with the official shinigami uniform instead of the mechanic pants:

Personality: At first glance, Mia seem to be cold and harsh. Her speech mannerism holds an overarching sarcastic and insulting tone, as if she constantly speaks down to people. Because of this she tends to struggle forming friendly relations, and people seem to distrust her as well. Not that it bothers her a lot, instead she simpe assumes them to be fools or whatever else one might imagine. However this is just the way she is to people she doesn't know, as a way to ward people off. Instead, when she actually is able to form a meaningful relationship with someone, she changes drasticly. Her offensive tone is exchanged with a cheerfully friendly one, her scowling turns to smiles. Nothing really stops her from protecting those she holds dear, even if that includes murder, kidnapping or whatever else. Warding them off with a cold glare which allows her time to properly judge the person and see if he or she fits their group. Thanks to this, she's an extremely reliable person in intent, always doing what she believes is best for her and the people she cares for. Even if that includes going against the laws of the Gotei 13, her captain or anything similar. If they make choices she finds problematic, she'll aduibly sound her dislike for the decision and instead urge a different path.

She's a hopeless romantic as well, the very idea of love between people is something she much shows enthusiasm for. If she sees anyone or hears of anyone in love, she'll start to plot in the shadows on how she can help that happen. And with her unlimited knowledge of romance from her books, she'll find a way, no matter what. Failure is not an option. Despite usually ending in it.

She isn't afraid of much, scoffing at the idea of it more often than not, considering she's a firm believer that a good plan can overcome the greatest of adversities. She constantly seek to challenge her tactical mind as well as her kido, finding much comfort in the idea of being a support unit in battle. And for that purpose she's willing to use every tool in the box, using traps, baits and what else to ensure victory. Very much a fan of dirty tricks in fights, honorable fighting is to her just foolishness, as ensuring every advantage over the opponent is far superior to walking off with a gash across the belly but with a smile of self-satisfied pride. She'd much rather leave battle with all troops alive and with the enemy utterly defeaated by tactical tripwires or anything similar.

In everyday business, it is common to see her either train her skills or sit under a tree reading a book. Her love for reading is fairly known, Mia does not hide it, and she often start to talk about any book she's read in a common discussion. She also loves particular kinds of seafood like bluefin tuna sushi, an element that she's brought along from her time alive, as well as various deserts to please her sweettooth. Chess and shogi are games she love to play as they challenge her wit and mind, and she's often seen playing with either herself or anyone else or discussing tactics, openings and the like. She dislikes anyone talking down her hobbies, disliking it enough to the level she might proclaim the person to be an enemy of hers until the end of day. She's quite animated in that sense. She also quite dislikes people similar to her, the twofaced people or the arrogant types, as the discussions will be far too boring. She also really dislikes anyone that to her seem like show-offs. Games that involve physics like football and such, she scoffs at. Calling it sports for simple minds.

Biography: Brought to Seireitei in the East Rukongai district 79, her initial beginning to afterlife was less than desirable. The people there were all sad, poor alcoholics that thrived on self-deprecation and hate. And so the soul of the former human had to find her spot in this unforgiving world through theft, manipulation, feats of strength and the like. There went no single day without her ending in a brawl, and many times she got the short stick of it considering her lacking powers. She eventually learned that her reiatsu was refined and thus she began training to control it all by herself. Successful in this feat she was, without any aid she managed to master the use of Kido #1 Sai. A good help to her life of theft.

Eventually came the day when the people in her district began to accept her. Perhaps out of necessity thanks to her newfound abilities with Kido, but that was no matter. She managed to form a little unit of bandits that quickly began to roam. Her wave of influence in the area increased and more and more joined her bandit force. They stole, they murdered, they raped, all to ensure her a good life. Yet within her she felt hollow and sad, she didn't mind the constant fight for survival per say, she did however struggle with the murdering. Unnecessary deaths are indeed unnecessary in her eyes. Yet she swallowed her distaste for her own actions and kept going until the one day the Gotei 13 marched to stop her rampage. It didn't take the soldiers long to split her force and break it down, yet she remained. Her kido mastery was so high for an untrained civilian that she was capable of restraining three soul reapers, enough for the leading officer to instead of putting her down, he recruited her. And so started her time in the Seireitei.

Call it a stroke of luck, she wouldn't care. Now she could instead do something more tasteful than senseless rampage as a bandit leader. Her time in the academy was a good one. Although her sword mastery was without doubt lacking, it mattered little in the face of her kido mastery. Within the few years she was present, she managed to master kido up to the 50's, and even manage to use semi-high level kido like Rikujokoro. The grades were accordingly, and she was pretty highly sought after due to her expertize. Given that she easily found herself in the Gotei 13 after graduation, she seemed to be pretty satisfied with herself. Yet she knew she could do more, and so she spent her first few years in the Gotei practicing shunpo exclusively. Every day she worked on her speed, and she simply went faster and faster. Her zanpaktou however, was sidelined. She knew her swordsmanship would never reach a great level, so she ignored the sword by her side. It took her far longer than most to discover that the sword actually had it's own conciousness. Even longer for her to discover it could speak. And mucch longer than that for her to unlock the Shikai form of the blade. And now she seeks a path into Squad 2.

Former Life: Mia was a court lady during feudal Japan, spending her time performing exhausting tea ceremonies and the like. The draw of shogi was there even then, but given the social issues tied to a female playing that game, she was disallowed to play by her husband. And one day, a warlord came to visit, turned out her husband had been trying to rouse the locals to overthrow the local government... and she was the one that had to perish for her husband to escape.

Zanpakuto: Mia has the dual-sided dagger-type zanpaktou, aptly named "Shizukana Yoru". Her shikai release phrase goes like this: "Shred the Light, Shizukana Yoru"

Abilities: A kido adept, expertizing in use of Bakudo based kido especially, and an adept shunpo user. Capable of using kido up to the 50's without incantation, 60's with full incantation. Proficient strategist, and exceptionally stealthy.

Weaknesses: Terrible swordplay abilities, poor at direct frontline combat in general. Like, downright useless. With or without a blade in hand, she's equally useless.

Theme: youtube.com/watch?v=_d0HRTx5CAI Watch the show the song is from btw

Other:
#1 Sai
#2 Joumyaku
#4 Hainawa
#8 Seki
#18 Shikakushogaisho
#21 Sekienton
#30 Shitotsu Sansen
#37 Tsuriboshi
#39 Enkosen
#61 Rikujokoro

#4 Byakura
#31 Shakkahou
#32 Okasen
#33 Sokatsui
#58 Tenran

[User]
1 P M / / S E I R E I T E I

The Seireitei was usually quiet at this hour, but given the circumstances, hustle and bustle was everywhere. Hundreds of squad members running around in packs trying to make it to their barracks on time for the scheduled squad meetings. Shinigami from all of the different squads were hustling around and there was little time left before the meeting started, and people definitely didn't want to be late. Luckily, those from Squad 7 had avoided the traffic, although the noise of the shouting and running from outside was so loud that it could be heard even from those inside the barracks.

A captains meeting had taken place earlier about a distinct issue that seemed to have taken the Seireitei by storm and the rumours had been spreading of a Senkaimon serial killer. The Captains had most certainly taken notes of the few missing shinigami that had been disppearing, but most of the assumptions were written off as killed in the field of duty. Something was definitely brewing and many seated officers were starting to be concerned about the health and safety of their squad members from a potentially dangerous threat that was starting to be seen as more than just mere rumours.

---

1.30 P M / / S Q U A D 7 B A R R A C K S

The air in the barracks was somewhat cold and crisp, yet the stifling atmosphere of the room and the large amount of Shinigami present seemed to heat everybody up, as the captain took the stage and people stopped talking in order to hear the words of their captain though there was still a whisper travelling around the room as their captain prepared himself to speak. For the squad newcomers, this would be the first taste of their captain.

"Welcome, everybody. We've got a few things to cover, so please be patient." spoke the Captain as he took a slight pause in his speech.

"Alright, firstly I'd like to welcome the newcomers. We've got a number of recruits from the academy, and I'd like you to show them the ropes." he spoke as he took a small breath. It was obvious what was going to come next wasn't exactly positive.

"Secondly, we've got a much more sinister issue to cover. As you may or may not have heard, this "Senkaimon Slasher" rumour has been travelling far and wide, and it seems to have some basis. As nothing official has come from central 46 yet, and the head captain doesn't really have anything to say about it, the only thing I can do is ask you all to stay vigilant and be very careful if you have any business through there." he spoke as he looked visibly upset by it. Rumour among the squad was that he'd lost a good friend in this instance and that he had been campaigning hard among the captains for an investigation into it, but hadn't got anywhere. He took a deep sigh.

"Your tasks today are pinned in your rooms. Meeting dismissed." and like that, the tension was gone as he walked off to mind his own business. The talking started up again, and the noise was once more present. And it had one predominant theme: The Senkaimon Slasher. The rookies must have found their lucky day, as many of those who had thought about giving them a rough welcome were now occupied with another issue.

[Assistant]
Bakuto Hokori

"Dull...this is really dull introductory meetings are a real bore..." these thoughts are that of Bakuto Hokori who is sitting at the meeting trying not to fall asleep in front of the captain. He only heard bits and pieces of what was truly said by the squad seven captain. Things Bakuto did pick up on were of this "Senkaimon Slasher" Bakuto tried not to laugh as he was amused by this title someone got. Was someone really slashing people up? Or was it someone slashing up the Senkaimon? The latter was what Bakuto was imagining even if it was impractical it was an amusing thought to him.

Bakuto, a young looking male soul reaper. He was somewhere looking around his early twenties, black spiky hair, with a tattoo on his left side of his face and appearing a bit under his shihakusho on the left side of his chest. His zanpakuto resting across his lower back within its sheath in its unreleased state.

Not that Bakuto cared much about this 'Slasher' unless it turned out to be a hollow then he just couldnt get himself to care. The moment he heard that their duties have been posted and they were dismissed Bakuto sprang out of his seat. "Last one there can eat my dust!" Bakuto yelled with a smile on his face before taking off at full speed. Bakuto used Shunpo or Flash step to turn and leap across the room at great speeds.

"Please let my job be killing some hollow, please let me kill some hollows. Oh I can only hope! Maybe I have been finally approved to go to Hucho Mundo to go on a mass slaughter. Oh that we be amazing!" Bakuto literally talking to himself as he runs back to his room.

Getting to the room as fast as he can not caring if he was the first or last one there he wanted to see what his job was and he was very much looking forward to see what the captain have given him to do. Bakuto was like a child before the holidays waiting to open his present. The glee on his face as he ready to find out what his mission or job is.

[User]
What a strange day to join Seireitei, what a strange day indeed. News of a serial killer seemed to increase the tensions in the room, and Mia herself found the thought to be rather amusing. A serial killer is a perfect way to test her tactical mind, a fine opponent indeed. She'd read that serial killers tend to hold themselves to prideful standards, using their wit to get around being caught. One could almost call them highly intelligent to the point that they have abolished their moral compass in pursuit of their goals. Not that she admired those murderers, she simply found them fascinating. A type of people that chose to abolish anything human in pursuit of greater good or greater evil. Just like those men she'd read about in stories.

Well, that was their first meeting. Short and concise, without anything of note for the privates to work with. Dull. No need for her to prove her mental superiority then. A sigh came from her lips before raising up on her feet, walking out of the place with her prideful, dignified steps. She walked much like a noble woman carrying food to husband and friends of his, a trait of old. A trait much different to the young man rushing out, something she imagined being a man that really had to take a dump. What a fool.

Once out of the barracks, she took a deep whif of the air before moving towards her quarters. She had no rush, no need to waste energy, simply walking as calm as a rosebed back.


[System]
Appearance:
Nickname:N/A
Role: Taxpayer (snooty rich-boy)
Age: 16
Gender: Male
Orientation: Heterosexual, Panromantic
Personality: While money certainly speaks volumes, Masahiro tends to speak even more. He does what he can to assist the host club in all of its endeavors, but isn't afraid to voice his opinion in matters what might not even be his. He feels like as the lead payer of the adventures, he has a say in how things go. However, deeper underneath, he's just trying to help out and bring things to a good state. Honor is important to him, and he hates thieves and people who ruin priceless host club items like someone did some time ago. He thinks of his philanthropy work as no big deal, and often underplays it because it seems to affects him so little.
Biography: Masahiro Hirabayashi grew up in a wealthy upper class family will little troubles, but Masahiro was always fascinated with the little people who didn't have the money that he did. He always put himself around these poorer people, in addition to the people his parents forced him to be around. He had a rather uneventful life, he would say between rallies for better pay and after every donation to charitable foundations. Being so generous to people has given him some level of control to these things, so when he joined the Ouran High School Host Club, he believed the same thing, but he was sure that he could do even more help to the world with some hosting under his belt.
Likes: Helping people
Being in the host club
trying new foods
voicing his opinion
Dislikes: Being forced to eat foods that he doesn't like.
Being shut out from social events and groups
theives

[User]
She watched brown eyes stand up and bow in her direction. It caught her off guard due to the fact that she had momentarily forgotten about the Japanese custom. With her being in the United States for so long, she had become used to the familiar handshake upon most greetings. Her hand fell awkwardly to her side as she politely bowed in return.

"It is a pleasure to meet you!" Azura almost sang once he had introduced himself.
"Sasaki Yuuki... That's an interesting name. Should I call you Sasaki-sama?"

Making sure to be cautious, Zu-zu used the formal greeting in association with Japanese custom. She did not want to offend the new Vice President. She needed him. There was no way that the Host Club would survive under her leadership alone. With the way he spoke of the days itinerary, it was obvious who was more capable to lead club activities. He was smart, organized, and quite possibly as good in business as Kyoya.

"Why in the world would Tamaki put his faith in me? I am surely not qualified for this line of work... Then again, neither was he."
It took her a moment to notice that Sasaki had been waiting for a reply. Thinking that she must have seemed like a ditzy airhead, Azura's blush intensified.

"That sounds like a perfect strategy for today's events. We may also want to think about ways to advertise our club around campus. Let everyone know that the Host Club is back in business."
She spoke eloquently before taking another bite of her Pocky. This time however, she let the stick hang from her lips in a casual manner. Leaning forward, she began searching through her bag before finally presenting a list of the Host members names and information.
"Perhaps we could use this as a roster? To be perfectly honest, I have no clue what I am doing. I don't even know why Tamaki-senpai chose me to be the clubs new leader... I mean, you seem more capable of being president than I ever will be."

She tilted her head to the side and grinned, letting a nervous laugh escape her lips before she finally walked over and sat on the opposite side of the coffee table.

As she sat down, another male entered the double doorway and approached them. He bowed with one arm outstretched before greeting her.

"It's nice to meet you too!" Azura grinned now more excited then nervous.
"My name is Azura. But you can call me whatever, I don't mind. It usually varies between Zura, Zu-Zu, or Star."

In the middle of her rambling, a realization had dawned on her.
"Wait, you were in the Host Club last year???" She asked excitedly.
"That's perfect! Maybe you could help us plan Club events for this semester since you have already had previous experience."

She patted the empty cushion next to her on the couch and gave a friendly smile. The new arrival definitely seemed to come from a wealthy background. Normal for most Ouran Academy students.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Karma

In the student parking lot Karma had just arrived as the final bell for academic classes rang. He had decided to skip classes for the day since the first day of school was always such a bore for him. Cutting the engine to his vintage and newly refurbished 1950's Hammarhead motorcycle, (which had cost him a small fortune) Karma gracefully swung his leg over the seat and stepped away from the bike. He ran his fingers through his tousled silver hair and looked up at the bell tower that overshadowed the entire campus.

"Another year... my last year." He thought glumly as he plucked a cigarette from the pack he carried in his front pocket.
Even though he hated the classes he attended, it was still a much better environment then being at home in Russia. Not to mention, he would miss the friends he had come to know and love at Ouran. Still, Karma understood the duty he had to the citizens of St. Petersburg. He had to save them from his fathers tyrannous rule.

Lighting the fragile cigarette quickly, he inhaled the smoke and instantly felt calmer. Exhaling, he walked towards one of the high school buildings, finishing the cancer stick as he arrived at the buildings entrance.

"Hey!" One of the security guards growled in his direction.
"No smoking on campus!"

Karma rolled his eyes and extinguished the cigarette against the doorway. He then entered the building but not before giving the officer the finger.

Normally, when Karma skipped school he would have skipped the entire day. However, he had a promise to keep. A promise he made to his best friend Azura.

Earlier that day

"You skipped school today?!" Azura's voice shouted, sounding annoyed.

Karma held the cell phone away from his ear and grimaced. Looking over at his alarm clock, he noticed that it was about lunch time. He had slept in due to a hangover he had from drinking the night before... or was it this morning? Reguardless, he was not in class.

"It's the first day Star... Give me a break." He growled placing a pillow over his face.

"But you promised me you would be there! You know how nervous I am! I need you Karma. Come on, get your lazy ass out of bed already. You better be here by the time the first meeting starts or I swear you will regret it."

Present

As Karma walked down the hall, he couldn't help but notice the stares he was getting. With the new year beginning, freshman students were starting their new life as high school students. Meaning, they had never seen Karma before. Some of the new girls gawked at him, taking in his handsome yet forbidden features.
Today he wore a black button up shirt, the sleeves were rolled casually to his elbows while the top two buttons were undone exposing the usual necklaces he wore. They consisted of a few silver chains with meaningful pendants hanging off them.
Many bracelets adorned his wrists and his white skinny jeans had more than a few rips in them. Definitely against the school dress code. The outfit was paired with combat boots which seemed to make him look edgier.

One of the cuter freshman blushed when he made eye contact and smirked at her. He made his way over to her figuring he would have enough time before the club meeting started. He placed his hand against the wall over her head and leaned towards her intimately. She was trapped between him and the locker behind her but he was sure to give her an exit by letting his left hand hand on his back pocket.
Not that she needed an exit. They never did.

"Hello angel." He purred enjoying the effect he had on the girl.
"How was your first day of high school?"

[Assistant]
"I, uh, suppose that's fine, yes." It was a little weird being referred to as sama, but he supposed she must think it justifiable. It occurred to him that she might understand that sama is a bit formal, but by the time he realized that the moment had gone by too quickly for correcting her not to seem weird, and he certainly didn't want to seem rude by correcting her, especially if he was wrong, so instead he just let it go and sat down, ready to get to business.

She seems to be the wistful type, as it took her a few moments to respond to him, but that didn't bother him so much. He grabbed the paper on the coffee table and began making notes as they talked, first adding a note next to his note about the flowers that the discussion of budget in general should be had (though with the school's wealth it's less a topic of need and more a topic of "What are we gonna spend all this on?").

"Advertising is a good idea. I doubt we'll get anything worth posting out by tomorrow, but certainly by the end of the week. We could probably get an announcement out to the school somehow- I'm sure there's some way for clubs to do that. I'll get on that once we close up the meeting." He added that in his notes, looking up once he saw that Azura had produced a piece of paper. He listened to her explain the contents, he nodded and gave a quiet "Ah, thank you", knowing that it'd be helpful. He started to read the list before he heard Azura start to express her own doubts.

It wasn't something Sasaki was exactly prepared for, but it wasn't something he wanted to leave awkwardly out in the air, so he said, "I wouldn't sell yourself short so quickly, Azura-sempai. After all, you've been the president for all of five minutes. Give yourself time to find comfort in your place. And just because I'm quick to get ready to organize doesn't make me more suitable to be a president. You were picked to be president for a reason, after all."

He went to look over all the names, and found he recognized none of them. It wasn't particularly surprising, since he was new to the school, but he figured it didn't matter, as he'd get familiar with them soon enough. As he looked it over, the sound of the door opening alerted him to the presence of a new host.

As Azura and the man introduced themselves to one another, Sasaki got a good look at him. He seemed pretty serious, from what he could tell, but not cold, exactly. And it seemed he carried a superfluously expensive bag. Not that half the things in this school weren't superfluously expensive, of course, but it stood to be noted.

Once Azura was done talking, Sasaki stood and bowed once more, "I'm Sasaki Yuuki, and I'll be the vice-president this year. Pleasure to meet you." As he sat back down, he took a note about discussing club events, since Azura mentioned it.

[User]
The bell sounded, and Noriko snapped out of her disoriented gaze, sitting outside around the back of the school. She threw the last blueberry from her container into her mouth and it burst onto her tongue as she bit into it. The breeze whisked through her sapphire hair and she stood, pushing her self up from the grass. The short girl winced slightly as the blades of grass grazed her injured when she stood up. Noriko dabbed the blood on her knee with a handkerchief, and it stung. She wondered whether her afternooons spent roughhousing with D-class students behind the school would be left behind once she joined the host club. Noriko's eyes suddenly widened as she realised that she was meant to meet with the rest of the host club today, at the bell. Grabbing her satchel and swinging it over her shoulder, she began to hurry back inside the school building, running through the regally decorated halls and past pompous-looking students from all different grades.

On her way through the labyrinth-like hallways that she hadn't yet gotten used to, Noriko felt through her pockets and bag for her map, but it was clear that she'd left it behind before heading outside. She passed the locker room, thankfully, and approached the rows of lockers. She dug her hand into her skirt pocket, pulling out her locker key, but paused as she looked down the row to see a peculiar boy with silver hair seemingly coming onto a freshman. Upon noticing he was a senior, she scoffed under her breath. "Gross," she said, a little louder than she realised, and ran her hand through the fringe of her hair as she resumed opening her locker.

[Assistant]
"With all honesty, Azura-senpai. I wasn't the one making the plans for the host club. While I did have sway and say in matters due to me funding most projects, most of the specifics weren't handled by me." After getting her name, he stood near the couches, relaxing on one hip. He always preferred standing over sitting. "However, I'll do what I can to help you get your bearings." He'd have to step up some as well, being around two greenhorns to the club. The difficulty would vary, but as long as they did everything properly, and consulted the patented Host Cub Guide to Hosting that clearly didn't exist.

Oh boy, it was going to be an interesting year.

He looked around, wondering where the others were. "I know that the Host club is somewhat exclusive, but shouldn't there be more than just us three?"


[System]
Gender: Male
Character Type: Cyborgel
Appearance: For a cyborgel, Liron looks rather ... human if you disregard the ashen colored wings and the mechanical arm and red mechanical eyes.

Or at least once upon a time he looked rather human. His short, black hair is currently matted with blood and his right arm - a metal prosthetic - hangs useless at his side. His leg is bent rather awkwardly - no doubt broken, and parts of his body are covered in nasty burns. If one looked really closely they could find pieces of burned dog hair.

However, once he gets cleaned up and no longer looks like something out of the Night of the Living Dead, Liron is a rather tall young man - about 5'11" if one were to measure him - with short tossled black hair and pale white skin. He is wiry, yet clearly muscular. His shoulders are broad, and taper down. His ashen wings can easily fold against his body - although they could be hidden by a coat, there is a weird awkward bulge in the back for anyone with any sort of sense of detail for attention.

Currently Liron is wearing what he died in - well, after his body was ransacked for the "good" clothes by various miscreants. (After all, Liron is a cyborgel and an object. Also, believed dead). By some good fortune Liron was left with a pair of dirty, if not rather soiled, black boxer shorts.

Career:
After his capture and brainwashing, Liron was re-tasked to working as a "volunteer" firefighter. (Of course one couldn't exactly call him a volunteer since, you know, brainwashing but semantics.)

There are two different types of firefighters; wildland firefighters who contain and prevent the spread of the raging inferno of death that is eating the forest and firefighters which most people are used to seeing in towns, villages and cities.

Contrary to popular belief, neither are mutually exclusive - after all they are trained to do two different tasks. Figherfighters who are in towns and cities measure fires by yards and feet and use water to put them out. On the other hand, wildland firefighters fight fire with literal fire. After all when you are measuring fires in literally tens of acres, there isn't going to be enough time to put one of those bad boys out. Of course there are other differences between the two (such as work weeks) but will not be mentioned in favor of it not being very important.

However, the people in charge decided why not double dip and make Liron able to perform in both capacities.

While Liron's job was mostly to either contain or put out fires - depending on what call he was sent to - Liron was also tasked in performing other typical firemen duties like rescuing kittens out of trees on those off days that there wasn't anything on fire.

Skills:
The most important skill Liron had when he was "working" as a fireman was that he looked human, or at least could pass off as one as long as he wore a long coat to hide his wings and mechanical arm. While his eyes were a bit harder, it was usually nothing that a pair of sunglasses or a fireman helmet couldn't fix.

The reason this was important was because as a fireman, Liron didn't just fight fires (although it was a good part of it) but dealt with distressed individuals and the public at large. Since people could act erratically when upset and distressed, Liron's "ability" to pass as human was considered a beneficial perk.

To expand on this, it can be easily inferred that Liron has some grief consoling experience under his belt. Even if it wasn't programmed into him, Liron no doubt would have had to learn on the job. While Liron very rarely dealt with the public in any other capacity, he was trained to in case of emergencies and something came up and some person approached him instead of an actual human.

He's memorized the entire layout of the city he was stationed in - as well as the street conditions - in the need to travel to the most direct route of the incident. The forest was a bit harder considering landmarks tended to go up in flames or were on fire at the time.

Liron's right arm also provides him with great strength - it has the ability to rip apart armored trucks and smash concrete. This has a variety of uses from cleaning up debris to smashing in walls to look for hot spots, or being able to carry unconscious person, the mechanical arm has many uses depending on what the situation calls for.

Liron also has very basic EMS skills - mostly focusing on "is this person alive?" and "if not, attempt to resurrect" or "if so, wow they're bleeding a lot - let's stop that." Liron also has been taught how to use Narcan to save people who have overdosed. Essentially he was put through first responder training, or better put programming.

Liron's thermal sensing eyes - whose function can be toggled on and off merely by thinking about it - allows Liron to search for lifeforms, whether they are dead or alive based on their heat temperatures. This is greatly beneficial when looking for victims trapped inside structure fires or even car fires.

Finally, the most obvious of Liron's skills is to fight fire. This extends more than just to using a high pressurized hose to dose the flames. For structure fires, Liron needed to determine best location for venting structure based on location of hazard and fire personnel, roof type, and building construction. Also, when it comes to forceable entry, he needed to know where best to enter the blazing inferno called death. Wildfire firefighters on the other hand learned how to camp in the path of an inferno and running from fire tornadoes which love to pop up because the universe loves to troll like that. While maybe not so much a skill, it might be interesting to note.

Supernatural Abilities: Judging by his wings, it can be assumed that Liron has the ability to fly.

Personality: Quiet, Efficient, Obedient, Empathic, Blunt

Bio: Liron doesn't know much about himself prior to becoming a firefighter. He was a relatively undamaged angel, and stayed relatively unmodified after some towns and cities in the western part of the United States were complaining of the lack of volunteer firefighters to fight fires - after all, charging into a raging inferno borders on brave and crazy. It was felt if Liron was kept more "human," it would benefit the fire departments.

After all, Liron would be an easy thing to throw away and be able to take the most dangerous tasks, thus taking the figurative (and literal) heat off the other, more important (and human) firefighters. However, since things happen in the heat of the moment and people need somebody to cry to and ask questions, it was felt Liron needed to appear mostly human as to not cause any greater distress or anger, potentially impeding the firemen's jobs if somebody had an issue with Liron.

Liron was assigned to a small fire unit in the western part of the United States where the dry weather and low population made it very hard to have enough people for the constant fires which seemed to start with the littlest of provocation.

Assigned the name "Liron" by one of the fire crew (to make it easier when out on calls), Liron lived mostly in the fire hall (or in the path of a blazing inferno on those wildfire days which could last up to months) unless he was out on a call. He was in charge of the tedious day to day work when at the station of making sure the equipment was working and cleaned, and whatever droll jobs that needed to be done but weren't exactly enthralling.

While Liron was helpful to the fire department, as cyborgels eventually faded into misuse, money towards his upkeep seemed to gradually diminish into nothing.

One day when at a structure fire call, the flames enveloped a propane tank causing an explosion which would make Michael Bay proud. Unfortunately, Liron was in the house at the time rescuing the family's pet dog and was severely damaged.

Considered outdated and unable to be repaired, Liron's burned body was simply thrown to the side of the road with rest of the trash.

Theme Song: Cruel Angel's Thesis
Other: Reborn

[User]
Razielle squeaked and jumped away from the robots, landing on the window sill. The two little robots ran around her feet, as if they are AI. Well, maybe they were. It's completely possible, considering the fact that she didn't remember anything from before the junkyard. She carefully stepped down off the window sill and looks at the small robots. They zip around the floor for a brief moment before disappearing out the door once again. She raises an eyebrow and follows them out, looking around. Those little robots had disappeared into the house, completely vanishing from her sight. The high pitched beeps and low pitches seem to be all around her, but she can't focus in on one exact one.

She begins to walk around the building, checking into different rooms. It seems like a normal apartment. She peeks into the doorways, seeing beds, torn up and ruined from rats or something like that. She sees some items left by the old owners when they had disappeared. She walks into what seems like a little boy's room and she looks around. She notices a flat board in the corner and she peers at it curiously. She walks over and taps it. Suddenly, a little humming filled the air and the little board floats up. She jumps back and sees that it stays stationary, unlike those little robots. She sighs and taps it again. It goes back to the ground. This new world is so strange for her.

She proceeds to walk back out of the room and continues to look around.

[Assistant]
Zac had just been about to pull the bread out of his bag when he heard the small voice. A moment later, Alexis had lunged across his lap, reaching toward Sasha. Or, rather, her tail. Reacting quickly, he reaches up and catches her wrist, stopping the weakened Cyborgel. If she were at full power, odds are my hand would have come off, he realizes.

Pushing that thought away, he says, "Easy, there. Let's not make any rash decisions, alright?"

Gently sitting Alexis back up, he scoots behind Sasha, who had jumped to her paws, thinking Alexis had been trying to play, thus causing her tail to wag quickly. "Sasha, still," Zac says as he pulls out the wire cutters from before.

Once Sasha had calmed down, Zac looks at her tail to see the pixiebot tangled in her fur. As he uses the wire cutters to snip away at Sasha's fur, careful not to cut any of the pixiebots' exposed wires, he says to the small machine, "So, what are you doing tangled up in my dog's fur?

[User]
Something just didn't seem right and as Lexie was pushed around backstage she couldn't help but think about all that just happened. A fellow demon warning her about a mysterious presence, a child that appeared out of nowhere to deliver a message, and her death that prompted Lexie to make a quick escape. She was used to straight up violence that she experienced on a weekly basis at the Slaying Trench, but not this horror show. To top it off it seems like she was now technically back at work again. This was going to be a long day.

Lexie stood there with the most dull of expressions as one of the make-up artists went to work cleaning the now weathered appearance up.

"So what's happening here?" she spoke up to the young artist.

"I do not know. I was told about a presentation and that's all ma'am."

Lexie held her arm out and slowly pushed away the young girl mouthing, "It looks fine," as she walked over to a nearby table and sat upon the edge. Pulling her folder onto her lap she flipped it open and began to peel back the pages, looking for any information on today's agenda. She could see the meeting that occurred back at the office, but after that there was nothing to speak of.

"Weird?"

Even when she looked around the room for any familiar faces she was only drawing blanks. Many of these people seemed to be lost in their own world with the setup, but they all were working together like a swarm of bees. All collectively buzzing around the place knowing what each other was doing before the words were even spoken.

"Lexie!" a voice called out from afar as a young male with a headset motioned for her to come over to his position. Closing the folder she walked over to his position near the stage that was almost ready for it's reveal.

[Assistant]
The girl wasn't one Liron had seen before. Not that he saw a lot of humans outside of the station and calls. His eyebrows furrowed as he tried to recall if she was the child of the family. He was pretty sure the little human had been a male, and surely less than 10 years. This one was female and considerably ... older.

A neighbor? he considered numbly as his mind processed the question she posed for him. It was one he had heard before - not to himself of course, but to others. Always to others. How was he supposed to respond to her inquiry? Each time it was presented to humans it seemed it was par the course to lie and say, 'I'm fine,' even if tears were running down one's face. Liron never quite understood the reasoning behind this, and it was never adequately explained to him.

"Is the dog safe?" Liron asked finally, deciding that if he succeeded in his mission he would be "fine." Injuries could heal and his currently useless arm - the weight of the mechanical thing and his inability to send signals to it alerted the cyborgel it was in a state of serious disrepair - could be addressed at a later time. That and his lack of clothes - while there was weight on top of him, it was not that of his uniform. To be truthful, Liron didn't even know how to begin describing how he felt besides expressing he was in pain - surely that wouldn't be anything to help form a diagnosis to begin repairs.


[System]
Rank: Lieutenant

Age: 26

Biography & Concept: Born the second son of the esteemed Caladwarden family, who's lineage reaches back to the first millennium of human space exploration. He was one of three, his older brother Brandon having been groomed to succeed his father as a representative on the Cinnabar Senate in which his father is a prime member. His young brother Gridor placed in administrative duties on their island home estate. Kaiden was raised to be a military man, representative of their family's old notions of loyalty and homage. There needs to be at least one member of the family in the Cinnibar Navy, and Kiaden has grown up with such expectations and responsibilities. Though his brother Brandon did sign on for a brief period to learn his worth and to show his dedication to the Republic.

It gained him an edge on the officer's exam for Lieutenants, and he passed with relative ease. His contention with his father however came at the death of his older brother, who died during a brief skirmish. Kaiden was given leave to convene with his family, whereupon his father ordered him to relinquish his duties as a Lieutenant and take Brandon's mantle as the first son. Kaiden refused, preferring to make his own way in the Navy rather than relying on his family's influence to gain notoriety. He had always been independent minded, and if he hadn't already a knack for the officer's life he likely would have defied his father long before the Brandon's death. His already rocky relationship with his sire plummeted into them parting ways with harsh words and even harsher sentiments.

An oddity, this "prince of the isle" does rather enjoy lowborn commoners. He speaks easy enough and is no stranger to hard work. But he always tends to have an air or superiority and education most can find grating. Ever rebellious, he was involved in a few low-end scandals with servants and young women cooks at his family's estate, being rather good-looking with a smooth, deep voice that can be used to flutter hearts or send men to battle.

Here's hoping he can muster up a good battle record with his meager gifts, because war has just begun...
@Penny

[User]
"Keep your guns on them!" Kaiden snapped loudly, his voice cutting through the air like a cleaver. No one save he or Sabatine had actually brought guns, but his command would either confuse or frighten the beaten watchmen and either worked for him. He held his own pistol right at the speaking fellow's eye, his face professionally unreadable. The telltale click of pulling the hammer back audible, casting fear in the guard's eyes. The fact that small psychological trick actually worked when it didn't make his semi-automatic pistol any more deadly showed these were just hired toughs with no forethought or strategy. Or at least this one was.

"How many men are up there?" Kaiden asked, edging his gun upwards a fraction of an inch to give off the impression he was fixing his aim to kill him soundlessly. "How many men!?"

"Uh! Uhm over a dozen I think? N-Not all together. They're spread out over the entire mansion." Kaiden could see him sweating. "You'll only run into one or two if any at all! I swear, please god don't kill me..."

"We won't kill you." The Lieutenant said softly, pausing for effect. "We'll do far worse if you or your friends try anything. Caperelli! You and Higgs stay down here with our new friends. In fact, everyone stay down here except for the Lieutenant and I. If we're not back shortly, you can torture them or use them to negotiate, your choice. Just be efficient with the resources you have."

"And you think you're going up without me?" Tilda interjected.

Kaiden spun on her. "Yes, this isn't a story. This is one of our men captured. If you want details I can tell you later. Higgs, make sure she stays down here, and if she gets by you then mark down I will no longer require her services."

Tilda's jaw dropped, but Kaiden could tell after a moment he wasn't being unnecessarily mean, only thorough. Everyone here would die for Otis if it came to that, and they simply did not want it to come to that. Kaiden slid the hammer back and nodded for Sabatine to follow, stepping over a prone and bruised thug into the corridor, finding the stairway in a matter of moments. He hoped the door wasn't a particularly loud one. The railing was basic, made of local timber and scratched from years of use. If he had to guess, they had made this lower area as a basement before they even realized the gas was inhabiting the mountain around them. He wondered how much there was left, and after awhile if he could capitalize on the business.

[Assistant]
Sabatine hefted her impeller as she followed Kaiden up the stairs. She was glad they hadn't had to shoot anyone to capture what must have been the off duty guard room for whatever outfit was occupying the mansion but she knew that luck like that couldn't last forever. The climbed the stairs and Kaiden pushed open the door at the top a fraction then, evidently seeing no immediate opponents pushed it open fully. The moved into what looked to be a kitchen, with long stainless steel benches and pots hanging from hooks that protruded at regular intervals. Like everything else in the mothballed mansion it hadn't been used in some time, and a light dusting of grime covered the surfaces where the byproducts of sugar processing had deposited themselves on the surfaces, even at this remove from the facilities that handled the business. Footprints leading too and from the doorway were evident in the dust and cases of food, apparently canned meat had been stacked haphazardly on the central bench. Empty cans littered the bench and floor, apparently opened with combat knives and tossed aside by the indifferent kidnappers.

Kaiden stepped into the room, made a motion for revolve to starboard and then took the lefthand side himself. Sabatine followed quietly, careful to avoid fallen cans as she moved along the right side of the kitchen towards the set of doors at the far end. These doors were simply sheets of plastic and she flicked her commo helmet to infra red for a moment incase there were anyway waiting on the far side, there was nothing and she parted the panels a hairsbreadth to peer into the room beyond. There was a blind turn, intended to keep the kitchens out of sight and Sabatine moved in and peered through the true door into what must have been intended as a ball room. The floor was laid in patterned wood that had been polished to a high sheen, though it too was now covered with dust and the tacky effluvia of sugar saturated air. The room itself had a high ceiling, two stories up and ringed by a balcony that made space for an orchestra and for guests to watch the dances. At the far end of the ground floor, tied to a chair with simple plastic zip ties, was midshipman Otis. Blood leaked from the corner of his mouth and a pressure cut above his eye but he otherwise appeared unharmed. Two men with assault rifles lounged beside him, both smoking cigars. A third was busying himself at a bar, drinking brandy from the neck of a bottle. Sabatine's infrared vision picked up two men patrolling the upper tier, bright red points picking out the tip of their cigars. The rest of the men must have been patrolling the perimeter, though Sabatine didn't doubt they would come running once the shooting started.

She signaled a hold to Kaiden as he emerged at the identical blind corner at the other side of the kitchen. She made a sign for obstruction and pointed upwards. His eyes flicked to the upper tier, though without a commo helmet it wasn't certain he could pick out the over watching enemy. He must have taken her meaning though, because he indicated to her, then made the sign for ascend mast, followed by clear obstruction. Then he indicated himself, and made clear mast step, which she took to mean he would handle the ground floor. The hand signals they used weren't really intended for clearing a building, but so long as they didn't get too fancy she could understand what he meant. Moving along a few feet she gently pressed open the door which concealed a staircase intended for servants to bring drinks and refreshments up to their betters and climbed quietly to the top floor. There was enough background noise from the guards own careless steps and their desultory conversation, which seemed to be a discussion of the virtues of a pair of whores back in town, to cover the slight creaks of the stairs and the rustle of soft soled boots on timber. Reaching the top she took a moment to figure the positions of the two patrolling guards. She hefted her impeller and checked the saftey. Kaiden hadn't given her any instruction so she figured he intended to make it obvious when she should act. She was at the base edge of the gallery, furthest from Otis with both guards forming the points of a nearly geometric Y that would flatten out as they continued their patrol. She hoped.

BING. BING. BING. The recall plate that all RCN officers carried in event they had to be summoned back from shoreleave at short notice began to alarm. The same sound syncopated from below as Kaiden's unit also went off, doubtless the same thing was happening in the gaurdroom below. The guards snapped instantly alert raising their weapons.

"Shit!" Sabatine snapped and kicked open the door. The impeller cracked and punched the first guard center of mass, the impact of the osmium slug sprayed gore over the expensive wall hangings and smashed the spasming man back against the wall. The body armor he was wearing bounced him off the wall and over the railing in a slow ragdoll fall that ended with an inelegant crunch as his neck impacted the floor below. The second guard fired a burst that lit the darkened room like hellfire. It must have been as much from fear as anything because the slugs blew splinters from the wall ten feet from Sabatine's position. She fired a second round and missed, having not waited the heartbeat for the weapon to steady. The man dived behind an organ of unfamiliar design, his weapon still spitting flame. Sabatine lined up her shot and fired three rounds. The wooden organ provided no more than aesteic cover and the heavy rounds punched through the timber and the body beyond. There was a scream and then an arm flopped into view thrashing wildly as the guard shattered body convulsed into death. Jumping up, she ran to the railing, hoping she wasn't too late for Kaiden and Otis.

[User]
It all happened too fast to properly think about. The two men, armed with assault rifles, were lazily smoking and lost in their thoughts, one muttering a joke of some kind the other barely heard. The mood changed a moment later when the recall plate went off, and Kaiden's normally reserved, even deboniar look turned into befuddlement. Within eyesight of the normally distracted men, he met their eyes and thanked God his weapon was shorter and more nimble. It took less than a second before he let off two shots into the first man's chest, turning to the other but realizing he had his weapon up. On instinct he leaped behind one of the mansion's support pillars.

Instantly bits of plaster and stone flew as bullets punched into Kaiden's position, narrowly missing the crouching prince. He could feel the heat of the projectiles, worryingly enough. The noble grasped a fallen shard of glass, scooting to the otherside of the pillar and slowly sliding it out to see the man's aim. Eerily, the bullets had stopped flying. On the glass he saw Otis having tackled the kidnapper, still bound and gagged, but having knocked the rifle out of the fellow's hands.

Kaiden tossed the glass and scrambled to his feet, pistol out and arms extended. Another man he hadn't seen before ran in, intent on the prisoner trying to wrestle his captor. Kaiden felled him with two shots that bodied him before spinning, punching a bullet through the other assailant's brain before he could slit Otis's throat with another shard of glass. Kaiden still felt his heartbeat in his ears, too stunned to realize Sabatine was safe. He hurried to Otis and got to a knee, cutting his bonds with the shard of glass and taking the gag out of his mouth. The midshipman wheezed, coughing up blood from a split lip.

"Damn good to see you sir." He said hoarsely.

"Head downstairs, I need to find the Lieutenan-" He began before Sabatine stepped into view, unhurt. Kaiden breathed a sigh of relief, curtly nodding. "Let's get the fuck out of here. Help me with him." He ordered, taking one of Otis's arms and letting Sabatine take the other. They had less than a minute before this place was swarming with the other half of the posted guardsman. Hopefully they didn't think to look in the basement for pursuit. Kaiden nearly dropped Otis when he knelt down to pick up an assault rifle, having holstered his pistol. Otis held onto his shoulder as he checked the magazine and reinserted it, satisfied and keeping it on hand in case they needed something with a bit more power.

"I didn't think anyone was coming after me." Otis croaked, clearing his throat.

"Don't talk." Kaiden whispered, more worried on the trail of sound than anything else. Otis seemed to not have been permanently damaged. "You can regale us on being kidnapped when we're out of here."


[System]
Age: 30

Sex: Male

Appearance: 6'2" with black hair and blue eyes. White skinned. Noticeable facial hair at the chin and finely trimmed. Sporting a more Westerly appearance with a short and thin leather duster coat, white button-up shirt with a popped-out collar and a loose scarf-like tie, dark faded blue jeans, and boots.

"Shh, I'm focusing...And trying to look intimidating."

Like many of the Societas Academia, Travis has a very good understanding how magic functions and how certain spells are performed. Being an Untalent however, much of what he has learned is unfortunately outside of his realm of implementation and only gets by with the bare basics of each aspect. But to him, this is perfectly fine; the spells Travis can produce by himself are considered useful survival tools in order to help him get by.

His real prowess is through the deciphered tomes and runes recovered throughout his journeys, capable of extending his abilities beyond his current potential. Though if anything, they too are yet another means of allowing him dissect and better understand their magical functionalities and eventually reproduce their effects in more manageable and efficient methods.

Funnily enough, given his recent and occasionally perilous encounters, Travis has been seen to be a rather surprisingly athletic runner.

"Magic is simply another form of science that is growing and evolving as we continue to discover and learn more about it."

Being an Untalent amongst a rather social community of more capable Talents can definitely be rough. Condemned to a lesser status because of one's natural inability to coordinate with magic fluidly was the fate many Untalents within the Societas Academia faced almost daily. Travis however didn't seem to be bothered by this too much. In fact, he was perhaps too busy studying and discussing theories to really care at all.

While as an Untalent and indeed had higher expectations set against him by his self-deserving peers, he enthusiastically conceptualized these endeavors as welcomed challenges in order solve rather petty societal crises to stress about. Though Travis was no ace mage and was more likely a magician as far as skills go, his main strength was his constructed knowledge base with a fierce understanding of the architecture of mana and magic implementation.

After years of hard study and grueling practice, Travis eventually achieved the rank of Aspect trainee and began the next phase of his training. Without any particular proficiency found in any particular set of spells, he would then opt-in into the Aspect of Scholar. As one would expect from his intuitive personality, Travis had felt right at home with his new position and became eager to set out for new discoveries.

What he didn't know was how cruel and horrifying the world could be outside the Societas Academia. The concept of death was something many students were well versed in, some more than others, but to experience and its many forms was something rather undesirable. Thus for Travis, now a Scholar, would soon come to know and witness this concept on more than one occasion as he pursues his quest for knowledge.

"So I spoke to an ebony dressed lady from the Cult of the Enlightened. We actually had a pleasant conversation until I asked about the concept of soul weaving. She laughed. Her fur coat cried. Suffice to say, I left in a hurry."

Despite his humble demeanor, surprisingly as an Untalent, Travis is certainly not afraid to speak his mind and express his views when necessary, sometimes comical or sarcastic if it benefits the mood. Being an easily fascinated and curious sort, he takes his role as a Scholar by heart (if not seriously) and seeks knowledge whenever he can find it; until it gets him into trouble. Nonetheless, he does show great pride and devotion to his line of work, atypical as it may be.

Travis can sometimes be described as a pacifist or "pass-the-fist" as he himself describes it. He sees no need for violence and certainly rejects the notion of killing but acknowledges the need for self-defense if he cannot negotiate his way out of a troubling confrontation. Of course said confrontations are usually created by something he may have said or done without any harmful or insulting intent.

"When the going gets tough...See to it you're not where the tough goes."

[User]
Just as Nemo retracted the shipping container's doors closed, Travis himself turned his attention back to the runic lock he had just unsealed moments ago. While unlocking the rune was a part of their plan to stowaway without being unnoticed, Travis briefly worried that allowing the rune to be publically viewed in its current state would not doubt give themselves away, even despite their best efforts to mask their presence. Luckily however, sealing the door had re-engaged the magic lock as his light projection spell then illustrated.

Travis cancelled out his spell once Nemo had secured their presence within the confines of the container via the establishing of a unique and small device to each possible corner of their hijacked space. This was apparently working off of Raiya's earlier statement regarding the assumed circumstance of Seidon's crew being able to detect them in some unnamed nor presented fashion. It was a smart idea of course and the more they could to avoid drawing attention the better.

As Raiya and Nemo we at it again with another session of personal dialogue, Raiya bluntly asked if someone had carried anay water on them. As it so happens, Travis held a policy of bringing with him one or two canteens and the occasional alcohol-filled flask during similar expeditions. Naturally, he reacted to Raiya's question and began extracting one of the canteens from his coat's inner holsters. While pulling the canteen, he summoned his mana into his hand, causing a rune on the large to emit a light bluish glow. He could already feel the bottle cooling upon retrieving it.

"Yeah, I got some water with me." Travis replied as he held the canteen out as an offering, "here y-"

Travis' voice was suddenly cut off by sound of a loud horn of an approaching ship. He froze in place he could hear activity from outside the container as dock crews and machinery began working their host ship arrived. Not long after that, a manadial that Nemo had seized began ringing in which he scrambled to answer lest someone outside took notice. Sure enough, the caller was Seidon himself seeking to talk with Logan. Travis gulped upon remembering Nemo and Raiya having dispatched him just earlier. However Nemo, pulling the same trick as before with the dock's announcement system, imitated Logan's voice and manner of talking and replied to Seidon's query. Thankfully, it appeared Seidon fell for it soon their small talk had ended.

As if the atmosphere couldn't be anymore negatively influencing, Travis and everyone else then experienced a sudden sense of weightlessness as their container had then began to rise into air as begun rising from the ground, likely due to a crane from outside ferrying the over to the ship. The Untalent braced with his back against the inner wall of the container, trying to keep his balance as the container shifted its weight. Eventually that moment soon ended too as the shipping container finally met with a flat surface once more. Travis slowly slid towards the floor of the container, bothered but now calming now they had a moment of stillness.

Looking over to Nemo after the white-haired Talent commented with reassurance on their current situation, Travis simply replied, "don't jinx us."

[Assistant]
Raiya thought about what Nemo said. Was it really true he wasn't born a talent? Raiya didn't know what she could trust when it came to Nemo. Nemo always said wild and outlandish things that mostly confused or angered her, and Raiya always just assumed that Nemo's reason for doing such was to illicit reactions. But this didn't seem like something with a reactionary nature, nor did it seem like he would lie about something like that. But it seemed impossible given the amount of mana Nemo currently possessed. If Raiya had a keener manalysis would she be able to see two mana wells? Or would it be just one? Raiya decided to take Nemo's word on the subject until she could ask Felix about it, she would have to remind herself to bring it up when they got back.

"I see... It's not only rare but extremely unique to see an untalent with the power you have." She said, implying she hadn't fully bought his explanation. But she left it at that, not bringing any further accusations out.

Raiya looked over to Travis who was using a rune to light the shipping container. He extended out a canteen of water towards Raiya. Raiya accepted the canteen and began to drink deep greedy gulps. "Thanks, Travis. I didn't really pack much for this mission. I'll make sure to bring a bunch of my own provisions next time." Raiya said after finishing the rest of the water in the canteen.

[User] Zoey entered the container and began looking through her medical supplies for something that might help Zuri. To be honest, the kid looked mostly fine, just a little scratched up. Her reaction to being hurt was catching the witch off guard a little bit. In the end, she simply decided on a pain killer. She produced a few sprigs of bark and handed it to Zuri. "Chew on that. It's basically aspirin. When it's pulp, use it to cover your scratches, and then cover it with these bandaids." She hands Zuri two linen bandaids that stuck to themselves for easy application. She then entered the container, finding a good place to sit and listen to partner and partnerette talk about talent marks and blah blah blah. She was beginning to miss the straight-cut morals of fighting monsters, and not killing humans. Even the shittier ones.

[Assistant] Zuri put both her hands out when Zoey handed her the sprigs and bandaids. She got into the container along with the others and started following the instructions given to her on treating the minor wounds from falling and the minor burn marks she got from the explosion. Zuri started chewing on the sprigs, and when it was paste-like in her mouth, she took it out and applied it onto her wounds. She quickly applies the bandaids on the spots to keep the medicine in. "Thanks Zoey.." she says quietly with a smile.

[User]
"Untalent... I never really liked that term. Always seemed so negative. Plus it's hardly accurate, I've met many of 'untalents' more talented than any 'talent' could ever be." Nemo commented.

Before he could say any more, the ship blasted off a horn to signal it would leave the harbor. The crate shifted a bit when the ship lurched forward, returning back to it's home out in the sea. "I hope everyone is comfortable, because we're gonna be here for a while." Nemo said, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.

---

Roughly three hours had passed, but it was hard to tell exactly where they were. Seidon's ship clearly traveled faster than the most ships were capable of, but from within the dark container it was hard to tell just how much faster it was going. By now heavy rainfall and wind could be heard crashing against the crate, the storm made Nemo think that they were getting close. Before Nemo could try to approximate their location any further he heard the heavy footsteps of a group of people through the rainfall. They had heard various crew-mates walk about the ship, but none seemed as rushed and organized as these did.

"Alright you lazy asses! If you can find the new shipment of munitions before my boots get filled to the brim with water you'll get extra in the messdeck tonight!" The leader called out, followed by an "Aye aye!" of the seamen in unison.

The command caused Nemo to open his eyes, now on alert. He got up from his seat and stepped over to one of the large cargo boxes and pulled the tarp off it, revealing multiple army green metal containers. If that wasn't enough, he flipped one of the cases open to reveal multiple firearms stowed inside and padded with foam. "Uh oh." He mumbled.

[Assistant]
Raiya shrugged her shoulders at Nemo's discomfort of the term she used, "I didn't make up the term, the Romans did, so blame them." Raiya explained. "Any other Roman words I should know about that trigger you? Perhaps the word, "canon" and its origins as the Roman measuring stick gets your goat?" Raiya rhetorically taunted.

Raiya spent a bit of time with her eyes closed, introspecting a bit on everything that had happened recently. She took internal stock of her goals and her plan to implement them. After about 3 hours of this she heard some voices outside that snapped her out of her basic meditation. When Nemo opened one of the cases, Raiya hopped off of the boxes she was sitting on and opened a few of them to reveal smaller boxes of ammunition. "Oh you've got to be shitting me," Raiya cursed, "Well, what the hell do we do now?" She asked

[User]
"Um, thanks?" Travis couldn't assess immediately if Nemo was countering with argument or a compliment.

While distracted by the external activity that influenced their container, Travis had failed to notice Raiya accepting his canteen and downing it thoroughly. Upon receiving it back, Travis felt the lightness of the canteen and even examined its port and well past it in hopes of there being any water remaining. Unfortunately he found none.

"...yeah I'll hold ya too that," said a disappointed Travis as he tucked the canteen back into his coat, "hope you don't have to go during the trip."

Per Nemo's advisory, Travis made himself comfortable where sat, knowing that their stowaway voyage would likely take a longer while before the ship reached its fated destination. There wasn't much conversation during the down time which Travis was satisfied enough with. As usual with his own moments, he felt the need to at least make himself productive by drawing away at his notepad towards a new spell for later. Time would eventually pass without anything alarming. The occasional patrol outside from the unwary crewmembers would come and go without batting an eye to the hijacked container. That however soon changed when a number of voices congregated outside which drew Travis' attention from his work. While the hull of the container naturally muffled the sound from the outside, it did stop Travis from adequately hearing one someone ordering the assembled personnel to find a shipment of weapons they had brought with them.

"Munitions? That doesn't sound good. Wait..." Travis commented aloud but before he could continue on, he thought he heard the sound of a steel door creaking open. Another one soon followed. Travis quickly pressed his ear to their container's hull and soon made out that the sounds he was hearing were coming from other containers nearby, "oh hell, they're searching the containers."

Travis then backed away and turned to see Nemo and Raiya almost scrambling to unveil the cargo stored within their occupied container. As it so happens, their container was the lucky number storing the weapons the crew were looking for. Had it now been for their situation turning dire, Travis could almost see himself sarcastically justifying his earlier statement to Nemo. Though if he would follow through with it was however another matter entirely.

"Can't go outside without drawing attention to ourselves...unless you're willing to go guns blazing..." Travis advised following Raiya's vocal concern, It was then he realized what he just unintentionally said and quickly produced an elaboration, "...figuratively speaking though I suppose being literal wouldn't be out of the question."

Travis then produced a tome and began quickly shifting through its pages, "my only other idea would to stay where we are, assuming if anyone has an awesome illusion spell they'd like to show off."