[System]
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Alias: Chronarch.

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Everyday Appearance

Standing at an average height of 5'9 inches, with a relatively muscular build thanks to his time spent outdoors, and an average weight of 198.2 pounds, David is a ruggedly handsome looking man with a short, well kept, beard and wavy locks of dirty blond hair.

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Costume

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Age: 35.

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Gender: Male.

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Hometown: Prattville Alabama.

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Biography: Born in 1985 to Valerie and James West, David grew up in a small yet busy two story home in Prattville Alabama with his sister Ashley and his older brother Damian. His childhood was pretty much the same as everyone else's. He was enrolled in local school, made friends, and got into fights with bullies. Basically the standard childhood of any boy born at that time.

After he made it out of elementary school along with his brother Damian, David ended up in a local high school and from there worked his way into a nearby community college. It's here that he and his brother worked to earn their Bachelor's degrees in their chosen fields of study. It's also here that their powers to control time first awoke during a dorm party in which a fight had broken out between three other student's in the room right before everything besides them ground to a halt. After figuring out what had happened, the two brother's broke up the fight and left the party a few minutes later, their mind's blown by what they had just witnessed and done.

While they were a bit concerned about what the other students at the party might say, they each reasoned that everyone there was probably too plastered to remember something as significant as two twenty something's seemingly teleporting around the room to break up a fight.

Upon returning to their shared dorm, Damian and David both agreed to swear an oath of secrecy about their power's, lest someone found out and attempted to use them or their newfound powers for malicious purposes. They also set their minds to discovering the exact limits and capabilities of their abilities so they didn't accidentally harm themselves or other's.

Once they had earned their Bachelor's degrees, David's in computer science and Damian's in business management, the pair graduated from college and got matching hourglass tattoos to commemorate their trip through "Hell" as they called it. After this they went their separate ways and took up jobs a various places.

Only a year had passed before they saw each other again. This time under much darker circumstances.

They found out that their sister had been murdered. Having received word from their parent's, both Damian and David made their way back to Prattville where the funeral was being held. The service seemed to stretch on for an eternity before her casket was finally lowered into the ground. Both David and Damian looked on in silence for a long time as a light rain began to fall on the area.

Finally Damian left, leaving his brother standing, alone, over his sister's grave.

And that was the last time David saw him. He searched high and low, on the internet and in Damian's workplace, but came up with nothing. Absolutely nothing. He even hired a private detective and still couldn't find him. It was as though his brother had vanished from off the face of the Earth. After six months of non-stop searching, David grudgingly accepted the fact that he wouldn't see his brother again and did his best to move forward past the loneliness and heartbreak.

He moved from place to place over the year's working as a freelance web developer, until he eventually moved to the California supercity of Bell Reach in early 2020 where people with powers, or metahumans as they were also known, lived in droves. While he moved there mainly to honor a contract he had with a client, David also made the move out of the faint hope that his brother Damian had somehow ended up in the city as well.

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Personality: Having grown up in a small two story house with two other siblings, David learned patience, tolerance, and respect at a very young age. While his brother and sister would throw tantrums when they didn't get their way, David would calmly wait until his parents decided upon the right time to give him what he'd asked for and if they said no, he simply accepted it and went about his businesses playing with his toys or climbing the large walnut tree in their small backyard while his siblings would run off to their rooms and sulk.

Aside from those traits, David also developed good social skills and found himself most at ease when surrounded by his friends at school. During his school years he also found that he had an intense hatred for bullying and those who preyed on people who weren't able to defend themselves. This hatred ended up getting him into many fights with other boys along with many visits to the principal's office.

While his disgust and hatred for bullies-as well as his grief over his brother's disappearance and his sister's murder-have slowly subsided over the year's, his desire to help other's and do what's right has not and he will not hesitate to use his powers to aid those in need around him.

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Skillset: As a senior full stack developer, David is good with tech and coding, something he found he had a knack for in his college days, and is relatively skilled in hand-to-hand combat as well as hunting and the handling of a firearm thanks to his families keen interest in the outdoors and outdoor activities.

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Powers: Chronokinesis - This incredibly powerful ability allows some of its most skilled user's to affect the fourth dimension, and by extension the universe or possibly multiverse (if such a thing exists), in unimaginable ways. Luckily for humanity, normal and metahuman alike, this power is extremely rare and comes with many lethal side effects if overused such as brain hemorrhages, strokes, and accidental lobotomy just to name a few. Less powerful or skilled time controllers must also consciously focus on keeping time stopped, slowed, etc. unlike the most powerful and skilled of manipulators, who can control time as easily as one flips a light switch on and off.

Errors in time can occur as well if the user doesn't know what their doing and if they aren't careful, then they could find find themselves reliving the same moment over and over again, get frozen in time, get erased from existence entirely, or possibly end up stranded in an alternate timeline, again if such a thing exists, where the world is ruled over by a tyrannical regime of sentient hamsters. As such, this power must be used with the utmost caution and care since one slip up could end life, as we at least, know it.

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Tools and Equipment: The most current model of IPhone, a black backpack, a-licensed-9mm Glock, an Alien Ware PC, and a fixed blade hunting knife.

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Additional Information: David has an elaborate hourglass tattoo that covers most of his upper back. He got it after he and his brother's graduation from college to commemorate what they jokingly referred to as their journey through "hell".

Before his sudden disappearance after the funeral, David's older brother Damian also had a matching tattoo on his left inner forearm that he often covered up with a long sleeve coat or shirt of some kind after their sister's murder five months after graduation. It was as though the very sight of it had become a constant and jarring reminder of his inability to protect her instead of the lighthearted and fun thing it was supposed to have been originally.

[User]
Barely a minute after she started violating several speeding laws, Erika was pulling up to the scene of the emergency. Her eyes widened slightly at the sight of the flames consuming the building and the fire-fighters running around, out of the corner of her eye she saw what looked like a person with grey clothes appear out of no where(teleportation? Awesome!) but she didn't dwell on him, choosing to focus on the emergency in front of her.

Wasting no time, apart from taking a second to set the alarm on her bike, she ran over to the nearest firefighter. "What's the situation?" The man paused in what he was doing with an impatient scowl, probably thinking that she's just a nosy civilian, but after giving her a once over and taking in her apparel, her vigilante status became clear. A conflicted expression crossed his face for a moment, but they needed the help. "Two civilians trapped inside, my men went after them, but no luck so far."

"Got it." Erika said, giving a nod before rushing head-first into the flames. Her mask and goggles helped to keep the smoke out and her skin is pretty much burn-proof, that didn't help with the intense heat though. It was freaking hot in there! Well…considering that the building is basically a giant bon-fire at this point, that wasn't surprising.

Ignoring the heat and the sweat gathering at her brow, Erika rushed forward to the back of the store, paying no regard for the flames as they brushed her skin, her full attention on getting to the civilians and getting them to safety.

[Assistant]
Of course.

The moment that Fringe decided to take a moment to relax and get some food a fire started. At the call for powers, Jin groaned. She shot Professor Devil an apologetic look. She couldn't even order her food before she was out the door and behind an alley changing back into her costume.

And from the rooftops jumped and swung Fringe, the Shanghai Spider in her purple and silver glory to help however she could. Fires weren't something we powers and gadgets were good at combating, but she could still assist in other ways if the firemen needed her.

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Gone too was young Trent, who knew he could help from the sidelines by directing the water onto the building with ease and even using it to create and easy path down to the ground if any of them chose a window exit. If worse came to worse and he couldn't help with the fire, at least he had medical training to help the people on the ground.

That left Professor Devil to his lonesome with a few others in the restaurant. He smiled. Fringe had been on his watchlist from some time, ever since she left Shanghai as Spider and came to the states with a new look, name, and tools. There were others he was aware of, but she was the first on his list. Of course, Miss Fang was there too. She was the answer to the Government needing to know what went on in the Bastion Halls.

A napkin peppered his face, his spare hand reached up to press the lapel pin on his blazer. The Bastion logo, of course, just in case anyone had any doubts that it wasn't him.

"Novak, was that you? John already went over everything again, do you need to hear it a third time? We're not holding initiations."

"Not me, doc." The Lapel pin was as quiet as a whisper, but just loud enough for Devil to hear clearly. "Just coincidence. You know putting civilian lives in danger is an instant boot. I can check it out if you want, though."

"No." Devil shook his head, despite the fact that the one on the other end could not see him. "Let the public handle it. I could remove a fire with a wave of my hand, but I want to see how these young folk handle a little stress."

[User] She had just finished her food when she heard the sirens and saw the smoke. Frick she fixed her mask and went camouflaged. She took a running jump off the building and leaped to the next one below it shooting out her black ropes (I don't want to call them webs but I don't know what else to call them) as a staff to stop her fall. She kept from roof to roof till she made it too the fire. She crouched on the roof of the building next to it, most seemed to be in the middle of being dealt with and she wasn't sure if she was needed. Then she saw somebody on the second floor looking out the window, a teenager. She jumped to the wall of the building and stopped being in camouflage. She shot a thread down to the ground and helped the teen out the went into the building to scout it out and find more civilians, she found herself with other heroes but didn't really acknowledge them, she was busy.

[Assistant]
David calmly watched as several other hero's, or rather vigilantes if one wanted to get technical, rushed towards the flaming inferno, intent on rescuing those who were still trapped within. Reaching into his pocket and pulling out the bandana he'd taken from his apartment, David pulled it against his mouth and nose before tying the two excess strips of cloth into a tight knot that wrapped snuggly around the back of his skull. Pulling his grey hood over his head to help further conceal his identity, David closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Letting it out slowly, he opened his eye's and watched as the movement of the world around him slowed to a crawl.

Stepping past the police cordon, David ran towards the burning building at full speed with his hand raised in front of his face in a vain attempt to block some of the intense heat radiating from the firestorm. To the outside observer, it appeared as though a grey blur had just shot through the area and into the collapsing store, but to David the world around him moved at a snail's pace, events seeming to drag on for ages as he ran through the flames, smoke, and ash billowing from the buildings entrance. Once in inside, he began to make his way towards the very back of the store, all while doing his best to avoid falling debris raining down from the crumbling ceiling above his head.


[System]
Age: 29
Gender: Female
Role: Crew Member

Specialty: Linguist/Cartographer

Personality: Brooke is a bubbly woman with a passion for exploration and knowledge for the betterment of all. Good-hearted, kind, Brooke enjoys making friends and spreading her own ideas and taking in the ideas of others. It's a shame she's exceptionally awkward and uncharismatic. One would not have to take themselves too seriously in order to become friends with the woman who stammers and gesticulates wildly when trying to express an idea she is particularly invested in. Self-awareness isn't one of her strengths, but she has just enough of it to be embarassed after the fact. Brooke tries to be humble but what pride she does have is easily bruised. She's also a terrible liar and accidentally wears her heart on her sleeves, even though she often tries to put up a facade of being cool and 'scientist-y'. Brooke is insatiably curious and frankly put: gullible. It was this gullibility that allowed her to trust in herself that her grandfather, and Atlantis, was real, and worth pursuing. She has a borderline obsessive nature with the lost empire, and though she has accomplished some tasks in her academic career, the only thing she has ever truly wanted was to find that vanished bastion of civilization that vanished into the sea untold millenia ago. Since she severely lacks people to talk too about the things she cares about, Brooke has developed a habit of thinking aloud, or talking to herself.

This all being said, Ms. Everett is an exceptionally skilled linguist and cartographer. Her lack of tact is not to be confused with a lack of intelligence. It is her life's passion and work.

Brooke has a distaste for violence, and is particularly aware of the flaws of the society she lives in. If anything good has come out of her struggles, it's her deeply burning empathy with the experiences of others. Brooke also is addicted too really likes Cola, reading, playing board games. Of course, maps and languages are pretty great, too.

Brooke is fluent in English, Atlantean, Spanish, and Chinese. She's also basically skilled in Russian, Japanese, Italian, French, and Louisiana Creole thanks to her childhood friend, Penny.

Appearance: Brooke is black woman with a slender, almost-athletic build. Her short, curly black hair is kept up and semi-side swept, though it becomes unkempt quite frequently. She has big, glittering brown eyes, a broad flat nose and full, plump lips that smile easy, revealing her chipped right front tooth. Resting on the bridge of her nose is almost always a pair of thin-rimmed circular glasses that tuck neatly over her small ears.

Her glasses serve two purposes- to help with her short sightedness, and to subdue the effects of her amblyopia, sometimes referred too as lazy eye. When not wearing her glasses, her right eye tends to drift inwards towards her nose rather then agreeing with wherever her left eye is looking. She can still see out of it when it's like it, but it's vision is blurrier and it's much easier to just focus on what her left eye is seeing rather then straining herself to look out of her lazy one. Especially when it's mostly just her nose and whatever the left eye is seeing, but worse.

Her clothes are brightly colored, casually formal and practical. White undershirts underneath red vests or blazers, and tucked into pants or skirts depending on her mood or situation. The scholar slips into heels, pumps, and boots easily.

art stolen from kiikiibee.tumblr.com. check them out for cool drawings

Other: Brooke's American accent is almost North-Eastern but a little too sugary southern sweet. Brooke is also decent at plumbing, so if this whole cartography thing doesn't work out she'll fall back on that and just be a little bit unsatisfied and bored for the rest of her life, but that's not too bad.

History: Brooke was raised by her grandfather, Raymond Everett, after her parents Raymond Jr. and Patricia Everett passed away shortly when she was a toddler. She didn't know them much personally, but she learned much of them and the type of people they were. Good, hard-working, rebellious and stubborn. The ideal American, the kind so very often disparaged by most of the real Americans. Through stories her grandfather told of her father and his daughter-in-law they seemed to be respectable, loving people. Even though they weren't around to teach her the more indepth lessons of being a person in this world, she looks up to them anyway.

But Raymond was the man who she took after the most, a self-made man born in the Northern United States before the Civil War. The deck was stacked against him, as it were, but he got lucky, and made it work. He taught her often of linguistics and map-making. He didn't push her into it, he didn't even particularly want her to follow in his footsteps, but his passion and love for the subject was contagious. It was his identity, and his smile brightened the room whenever little Brooke dared to ask about the subject unprompted.

Brooke made friends with a little girl named Penny, two years her junior, who moved up North with her family a while ago. They became fast friends, even though they came from different backgrounds, especially when it came to class.

But soon Penny's nomadic family moved again, to somewhere else. Raymond Everett became obsessed with Atlantis, a lost forgotten Empire. He drudged up evidence and books and found the beginnings of the Atlantean language. He needed Shepherd's Journal, but he could never quite track it down. She saw him less and less towards the final years of his life, and though he was a great man, he never could just let it go.

Years have passed since then, and Brooke found herself taking up her grandfather's torch in the field of Academia. Most of whatever money he had intended to pass down to her was gone, or has been spent in the time since his passing. Originally, she planned to not fall down the same trap he did and become ensared by visions of Atlantis. Instead she wanted to study other aspects of those fields and become renowned for her own discoveries. For a while, this was true, but...it was hard not to think about.

So, working as a plumber in the boiler room of a University, she has slowly but surely built a little bit of a name for herself, if not publicly. Since she's technically not really a scholar, her work tends to be co-opted without credit by other members of academia. It has gotten under her skin recently, but she'd distracted herself more and more with focusing on the Lost Empire of Atlantis and cracking the code of the Atlantean language. Within the last year she has finally gotten fluent with it, has learned it's syntax and grammar, and can read and write it. Even her grandfather was a novice at the language, but she had his work as a headstart. Now, she's diving headlong into finally making a name for herself with a discovery that can't possibly be covered up or be taken credit for by somebody else- the discovery of the lost city itself. All she needs, is Shepherd's Journal and-

Oh, boy. Here we go again. This time, though, she'll be careful. Fortunately, it's not like there's anyone relying on her, so no one will miss her if she goes crazy. Plus...she's actually onto something here!

[User]
"Afraid I'm not much of an expert myself. My understanding is that it isn't much different from a normal ship. Just have to be a tad more careful about seals." Thucydides offered, puffing in his cigar as he took another look around the bay. An entire convoy of trucks loaded down with supplies was already starting on up the boarding ramp, though most of the crew itself was still lingering. That would change soon.

"I'm not much more excited than you about traveling in this thing, believe me. Prefer to know there's sky a certain distance above me. We have our duty though. Is there anything else you need prepared before we embark?"

[Assistant]
Szalai Zalán

"Just like a normal ship huh", Szalai replied as he looked at the submarine. "I will take your for word it then and then it should not be too hard to live in". Being in a submarine sure will be an experience, being underwater and everything. Granted he will be waiting around for a time before they find traces of the lost city. Still, it will be worth it once they found what they were looking for and Szalai is excited about it.

"I am just excited to find the lost city is all and not exactly excited to travel in a submarine. Just it will be new for me and being in an impressive submarine like this one". Szalai noticed the supply trucks and moving up the boarding ramp. "I take it that we are leaving soon and as for me Commander. I just to retrieve some things from my bunk and I should be good to go. It should be fast to get and I assume you are ready to depart?

[User]
Brooke Everett: The Cartographer

 Brooke Everett was scrambling to the bridge of the ship, clutching several scrolls of maps, balancing some on a small open-topped wooden box with various books inside. The young woman's frazzled short black hair that was shorter on one side raised just above her large, circular glasses that made her big brown eyes seem even bigger. Brooke had been a beacon of anxious energy throughout the entire trip, having had her entire life turned upside down. The sleeves of her white undershirt were rolled up to the elbows, and a red vest clung tightly to her body. The shirt was tucked into a belt that kept up a pair of black pants that tucked into a pair of boots. Everything was tucked. Perhaps not of any desire to be orderly or prim, infact it was more likely that had her clothes not been so tightly tucked they would be flying all over the place and getting stuck on every possible place they could get stuck on. It was a matter of necessity, almost.

 Preston Whitmore had changed her life. All those years of waiting, searching, hoping, it had finally come true. She was about to prove her and her grandfather right, and the Everett name would be brought to the public consciousness in the good light that it deserved. Finding Atlantis, following the notes of Shepherd's Journal in a high tech submarine---it was almost too good to be true! That was why she was so incredibly concerned with not messing anything up.

 Despite some of the crew's potentially mixed feelings, Brooke was a true believer in the lost empire and expounded vibrantly upon the subject whenever someone dared broach it with her- or whenever they didn't.

 Carrying the box and the scrolls full of text and words that no one other then a cartographer and linguist could make any sense of, Brooke came to a door that lead to where she needed to go. There was a small glass porthole, and the top half of her face peered through, the large round glasses poking around to try and see anyone on the other side.

 With no free hands to operate the complicated naval door that only submarines had, Brooke pushed her forehead against the glass.

 "Hello?" She asked.

 Brooke leaned back against a nearby wall and extended her leg outward and began to kick at something like a handle or a wheel, trying to find a good grip on it to get the door open. "C-c-could somone---" She stumbled, slipping, and had to rebound before a map fell to the ground. She treated the maps as if they were expensive Chinese porceclain creations. Were they to fall onto the steel floor of the submarine, they would surely shatter into a million pieces. Brooke tried not to blink too much because she was certain that if she kept her eyes closed for too long she would wake up and be back in her gloomy New England apartment.

 "I need some-" She once again began and prematurely ended a sentence, this time adding a beleaguered, good-natured giggle. "Oh, heck." She leaned up against the wall and tried to balance the box in her arms. At this point she was nothing more then a pair of trousers supporting a shaking box. This was going to take a while, and her obvious, loud plight would need to be solved by someone else. Eventually she may figure out how to put down the box and open the door and pick the box back up again. Again, if she put down the box, the rocking of the submarine may cause it to drift into the wall, have a collision, and burst into flames. Anything was on the table at this point.

[Assistant]
"Just finished the inspection of all my team's equipment. We should be prepared for just about any breed of danger that might keep in on us." Thucydides replied. He paused then when he spotted the young Black woman trying to manage her rather copious luggage. He nodded politely toward the Hungarian. "If'll excuse me, seems our cartographer needs an extra pair of hands."

He gave a brief salute before he loped over toward the young woman. Thucydides loomed easily over the woman, and was probably four times her weight in muscle and bone, but even then he had to his best to not appear threatening.

"Let me give you a hand with that, Miss Everett." He said, his Louisiana drawl as thick as could be. The big man offered a polite smile as he turned the wheel to open the hatch for her. "Captain Thucydides Beauregard. Pleasure to meet you at last. Raymond would be proud seeing all this."

[User]
Brooke Everett: The Cartographer

 Brooke was focused on the door and keeping her belongings from touching the apparently poisonous ground when the light from a nearby ceiling fixture was blocked. Brooke's wide eyes flicked up to the imposing yet gentle figure of a very big man. He was intimidating to say the least, though she knew he wasn't trying to be. Still, the edge of a cliff or a big metal spike wasn't trying to be intimidating either. But something that could easily squish her fragile form into tiny pieces was just inherently a bit spooky.

 She gulped and smiled wide with a slightly nervous chuckle. "Oh, uh, thank you, Sir." She nodded at him and then rushed inside. Finding a nearby table she set the box down and turned to Captain Thucydides and gave him a salute. It was an amateur salute of someone who had only seen propaganda pictures of soldiers saluting before but it was the best she could do.

 "I'm, uh, Brooke Everett. Yes...I...I imagine he would," Her salute faltered a bit and she looked wistfully to the nearby wall, her thoughts briefly drifting away a little.


[System]
Race: Rock Gnome

Age: 72

Gender: Female

Appearance: Short, of course, with brown skin and blond braided hair. Her clothing's relatively light - a plain tan shirt and vest, a grey skirt, and black boots and gloves.

Class: Sorcerer

Alignment: Neutral

Bio: Cyanak was born in Tinkertown, though her affinity for magic over technology resulted in her leaving as soon as she could, at age 40. She skipped over the Northern continent, opting for the less-stable Western continent and its constantly shifting map for a few reasons. For one, she was quite fond of the chaos - as long as she kept her head low and didn't openly support any regime, she was regarded as useful by more than a handful of people over the years. She sold her brewed items to whoever was willing to pay her cheap prices and, if things got too exciting, she packed up shop and moved to another kingdom. When things began to grow relatively stable, she found herself becoming bored and finding new ways to keep herself amused - offering her services as a utility mage to adventurers wanting to explore the desert, studying alchemical recipes, kidnapping people's pets, all sorts of things. The last one ended up getting her arrested eventually and she would have been beheaded had an adventurer's group not bailed her out - they needed a magic-user to support them, and they'd be keeping her around for the long run. Cyanak agreed since, sure, she needed something to do anyhow if she wasn't going to be executed.

The last time she saw them, the barbarian and rogue threw the halfling fighter into the dragon's mouth at his request and were hoping he'd be able to cut through as he promised. She still has no idea if he ever did.

Personality: Cyanak is, at a glance, extremely sweet and kind. She'll gladly chat you up if you're interested, will not bother you if you aren't, will volunteer for raids without demanding compensation beyond healing and supplies used, and will likely gush over your animal companions. She seems content to use her magic for support as opposed to front-line fighting, and she barely seems capable of lying. She believes in honoring any promises she made and that she should be as upfront as is comfortable. That all said, she also seems to have an intense love for fighting and killing, and her love of magic tends to emphasize how she can turn a fight around with a flick of her wrist and a word. It also cannot be emphasized enough she should not be left alone with small animals. While promises are important, she doesn't hold any particular loyalty to anyone, considering herself a drifter. A good teammate if you can put up with her rather inconsistent personality, a villain if you cannot.

Equipment: Alchemist's crafting kit, crowbar, one set of caltrops, two flasks of oil, four empty flasks, four sets of rations, a waterskin, a bedroll, a sling, sling bullets, spell component pouch, and of course a backpack.

[User]
Cyanak blinked at - the paladin, huh? ...Best not to attract too much attention to herself then. "Oh. Thought you were already traveling with... Bozidar." She gestured at Bozidar. Sounded like a male name. Maybe they were a guy. It didn't seem that implausible, really. "I guess if he can afford you too, I'm not gonna object." And hopefully, that wouldn't set off a speech about how 'he' was a female, followed by a flurry of arrows.

"Anyways-" She turned back to Bozidar. "I'm a sorceress, if that's not a problem. Sure, some people might advocate for the wizard, but they can't cast as much and if you needed something else anyways, you're out of luck for the day either way. Besides, I've never met a particularly friendly wizard." In fact, she'd probably only gotten the silent treatment from that one because she wasn't dressed in casting robes. "So I guess if you need diplomacy-" She seemed less than enthused about the idea that the mission was not killing a dragon or the like. "-A sorcerer's still a better bet for not irritating everyone." And then the pep in her voice was back, and she was smiling. "So, yeah, short version, utility sorceress, alchemist, hope those aren't problems!"

Cyanak glanced at her bag, which she had noticed Bozidar looking at earlier. "...those don't count, though, I mean when I actually start brewing things while working for you."

[Assistant]
Bozidar was caught a little of guard by the "paladin" himself. Though spot wasn't a trained cleric skill, his wisdom bonus of balanced that. Though he noticed the lack of any sword but, he didn't have ranks in knowledge (nobility and royalty) so he assumed that it was some weird custom or whatever. "Well... if your interested by all means your very welcome to join us Sir. Toshiro, we need someone other than me for frontline combat anyways!"

Bozidar turned back to Cyanak, "Finally! Do you have any idea how many people have addressed me as miss or m'lady since I arrived? I'm glad someone finally sees that I am, in fact, a man. Regardless, your both obviously hired, if you wish to join me that is. As for quest specifics, a powerful magical artifact was recently stolen from the druid grove where I was raised and trained as a cleric. The thief was very powerful, and managed to steal the artifact before any of our higher level druids could even get involved. We need to find out where the artifact is, who took it, and then we need to get it back... unfortunately I don't have a tracker and unless one of you has cross class ranks in survival AND the track feat we need to find the culprit a different way..." Bozidar sighed at what That way was. "So, you two still interested? "

[User]
Toshiro scratched his left temple and again fell silent for a good while. He was obviously weighing his options about possible rewards and risks. "I'll gladly join you good sir, but there are just a few things I will make clear." He finished his pint of water and got on his feet. "I'm not that kind a paladin who upholds the law to the letter - you know, those fellows who nag at you for jaywalking or something like that. I'll accept some minor thievery if it is necessary for completing a task. You need not worry about me marching in to a bandit camp to challenge them in to honorable combat or something like that - except if we need a distraction so the rest of the group can sneak in through the back."

He glanced ever so slightly to his left and stared at the farthest wall of the inn before again continuing. "However I will not accept doing something wrong for the sake of it being 'cool' or 'awesome' - I will not accept killing children or other innocent noncombatants, be they of any race or alignment if they do not pose a threat to us." Toshiro adjusted his cloak slightly. "Oh... and for me being a paladin is a profession, not a class." He flashed a little smile - one of those smiles all old monks had even without it being a class feature. "I am a monk with 18 levels under my belt - so this'll probably be my last adventure anyways, though if things go well and we all live through this I'll gladly join you on a second adventure as well." He again paused and swung his head to the other side like he was listening to a very quick conversation between several people. "Since I'm a member of the nobility having me in the group will perhaps give us alteast some advantage in our quest - after all we don't have to constantly go lurking in the side alleys and might even get some help from the city guards of many places. We might get even more help if our travels happen to take us close to Azure city."

[Assistant]
Cyanak shrugged. "I had to dump a stat somewhere, and I needed some Strength to carry my alchemy crafting kit, so Wisdom went out the window." That was a short way of saying her Survival skill would not be adequate for tracking, even if she had invested ranks into it and gotten the feat for whatever reason, like it'd somehow be reasonable to get Tracking when the terrain was generally sandy. "But hey! I'm in for cutting the guy's head off when we find him and getting your artifact back!" Hopefully Bozidar would make a fine reference later for other jobs. "So when do we go? Now?"

She glanced up at Toshiro. Wow. She was only - what, level 12? Just picked up her first sixth-level spell before opting to find a new employer. "Question - can you really make a person's heart explode? That might be cooler than decapitation." It was a valid question. Hey, if he wasn't really a paladin, maybe he wouldn't object to her proclivities.

[User]
"18 levels huh? Well... that would be very useful. And I've no intention on hurting anyone who doesn't deserve it, I am Neutral good after all. Though I'm not sure how close to azure city we are going to get... but we may pass by eventually." as Bozidar said this he wasn't really sure about it... or anything really... well at least now he wouldn't have to go back to the grove and ask the druids to handle it.

"Well... I suppose we should make some sort of official contract or... something right? I'm kinda new yo this whole adventuring thing... you know I've only got 9 levels of cleric so... I may be lower than both of you... but I can still be an effective healer. Plus I'm kinda forming the group so I can really be... fired... so anyone have paper or something? "

[Assistant]
"As it so happens yes, yes we can." Toshiro glanced at Cyanak with such excitement in his voice that it was difficult to think him as lawful aligned. "Though I personally prefer doing nonlethal damage - takes people out from the fight same way as lethal damage, but I'm not taking lives." He added with a bit more subdued tone. "Ah, nice of you to mention that, sir Bozidar. I just so happen to have an adventuring contract here." The monk had actually just appropriated a roll of parchment and ink from the bartender when the fellow wasn't looking - so either he had used sleight of hand which wasn't a standard monk skill or somehow had utilized his flurry of blows ability to snatch the items in a sort of a disarming roll which too was very unorthodox.

"As you can read from here my terms are simple - the ones I already mentioned and in addition to that I'd be most honored if I was given the first pick if we happen to find any magical items that might be of more use for my class than yours. Also I can take most of the guard shifts during our little trip thanks to my magical ring. I don't need to eat, drink, worry about bodily functions... oh and I only need two hours of sleep as long as I have this thing on. So... let's see... I'll just add my signature here... aaaand..." Toshiro passed the contract, ink and quill to Bozidar. "Seem a fair enough deal?"

[User]
"Well, we'll still need to rest a full eight hours. Magic and all." Though at least nice to know the likelihood she'd need to take a shift was low. She'd done it before, going a few days without full rest and rationing out her spells, but she tended to run out of first-levels rather quickly and then regret doing so. Besides, actually, didn't a cleric need rest anyhow? She didn't really pay a lot of attention to those who ordered from her, not that Bozidar needed to hear that.

And no fair, the contract was well over her head. Even standing on her tip-toes, she couldn't quite read it. Though she was assuming Toshiro had slipped in other terms. "What kind of magic items does a monk need anyhow?" Monks were just unheard of, though considering gnomes took an inherent negative to the strength stat, well, hopefully he wouldn't be claiming any dexterity or charisma bonuses.

[Assistant] Toshiro smiled politely "Well I could always use more strenght, a bit more wisdom... A dash of dexiterity, you know, all that. Mostly I'm looking for magical items that noticeably boost my monk abilities - such as Monk's Belt or an Amulet of Mighty Fists... Ofcourse a Ring of Divine Power wouldn't hurt either..." The monk shrugged his shoulders and shook his head a bit "Though coming up with the latter items would be a bit difficult except if we happen to run in to a wizard who happens to be exceptionally proficient in crafting items, but what would be the odds of that?"

[User] Bozidar giggled at bit as the gnome clearly wanted to get a better look at the contract, "Cyanak if you want to read the contract for yourself just ask amd I'll show it to you. As for magic items we may have to discuss wisdom boosting ones Sir. Toshiro as I need wisdom for my spells. But we can work that out as we find such items, so the contract seems fine to me so I'll sign you on!" Bozidar took the quill and ink and signed his name on the parchment. After that Bozidar took and placed it on a chair for Cyanak to see it. "Alright, as soon as Cyanak here confirms her agreement we can stop this ridiculous contract simulator and get to adventuring! I can hardly wait... of course it's for a serious reason but I don't see why I can't have fun on my first real quest."

[Assistant]
"Alright then. Hope you picked the Magic Domain, because I didn't pick Identify." After all, many were loath to give the needed material component, so Cyanak had deemed the spell useless and avoided it. She glanced over the contract, just enough to skim it. It was a formality; so far, she hadn't heard anything that was a particular dealbreaker. "Anyway, sounds good. The most important part of any journey of bloodshed and robbery is to have a good time." She paused and then glanced up to the other two. "I have a feeling that didn't apply to either of you. Disregard it." Right, not home. Totally different continent, in fact. She signed her name, ending her name with a flourish, and carefully rolled it up to keep the ink from staining the contract.

"Glad we got that settled. So you mentioned a druid's artifact, huh?" Did Knowledge (Arcana) cover knowing whether or not it would make sense for druids to have an artifact? Might as well make the check.


[System]
Nickname: Optional
Race: Human
Age: 21.
Gender: Female.

Appearance: Picture or description. Use a hider.

Proportionality:
Weight: 63 kg
Height: 1.73 m
Frame: Atlethic Use a hider.
_______________________

Personality:- Wylde is an extremely straightforward person. She does what she wants, says what is on her mind and doesn't hold back for no one. She prefers company over solitude and has been known to search for people to spend time with. Due her work as a duelist for hire, she is used to traveling and loves it. Additionally she loves to meet new people and duel them if the chance presents itself. Warrior, mages, rogues, archers and all others, she loves experiencing new challenges and actively seeks out strong opponents. As a last note to mention she enjoys alcohol a lot. Especially before and after fights or when it's full moon.

Job: Duelist

Fighting Style: When without weapon, Wylde's main fighting style on extreme mobility and footwork that allows her to dodge and position herself for fast retaliation strikes, targeting vital points.

Weapons from strongest to weakest: – Rappier > long sword > dagger .
Armors/Outfits Besides a single armguard on her left hand and a kneeguard on her right leg, she wears no other armor. As clothing she wears light so it doesn't affect her mobility.

Familiar: Naisha

Familiar Abilities: Allows for ice magic to be used. Grants complete immunity to frost. Passive- keeps the user's body temperature stable even at extreme conditions. Weak to fire.
Movement Type: Is it Stationary like a sentry? Does it fly? Or does it walk and run?

Familiar Size: Medium (Human height.)

Relic Weapons: Light blue rapier, that gives off a cold haze around it as it eminate with frost energy.

Relic Armors: An armor that coveres her entire right arm. It's light blue in color like her the rapier and is cool on touch. It overwrites anything she has on her arm and replaces it until dismissed.

Trance: In trance, Wylde's speed triples along with her reflexes. Her body seems to get even slender, but without losing any physical strength. Her body starts to shine in pale blue and her weapon usually turns into crystal.

- The way Trance is activated is through stress and emotions. So tension can induce this.
- Your body can shift form due to the sheer power. Such as changing figure a bit.

Pros- Your Strengths. Extremely fast, hard to hit and has devastating counters, the ice magic combos well with her fighting abilities, has a lot of practice in fighting.
Cons- Your weaknesses. Dependent on dodges, has low health, doesn't have magic besides her familiar's

Background: Wylde was born in the capital of Alexandria. Daughter of a small noble, it was decided she will be a member of the military since the day she was born. As a young child she showed extreme promises as she seemed to be a natural athlete. By the age of 17 she had proven she is indeed worthy of the army and was already considered an accomplished duelist with great potential. The life in the army didn't suit her though. She was always catching herself looking in the far distance and down towards the misty lands, yearning to go out on her own into the vast open world. Many times during guard duty, she would sneak away into the library to read of distant lands and monsters that one couldn't see near Alexandria.

 It was two months after her 17th birthday that she finally decided she will leave the army and head out on her own. Her choice was not received well by her family and her superiors, but she had already decided and there was no way anyone would stop her really once her mind was made up. She left her uniform behind and set out with the first airship that left the capital. She didn't even ask where they were headed, she was going to find out when they arrived!

[User]
Hitori had been curled up, hidden beneath his Tails and dreaming of the place where all forests were one; relishing in fond memories that felt like they were a lifetime ago. Ada poked his head up from the Tails and cheerfully warbled a Good Morning to the Princess who had been trying to wake Hitori up. He saw Hitori was being a Lazy Bones and with all his Dolly Might he began to slap Hitori's face senselessly to wake him up. The Sensations of the Princess poking him, the Karn woman nudging him, and Ada slapping the fuck out of him awoken him and unintentionally startled him. He had forgotten where he was and saw all these people around him and panicked, causing him to grab Ada and rush to another Corner before he finally realized what was going on and calmed down, "Oh....Good Morning...or whatever time it is... Sorry I was just a little lost in my dream..." He said as he began to piece together what was going on Again. Ada's muffled warbles were only barely heard as the Doll began to squirm and flail to get out of Hitori's grip, Hitori noticed and stopped squeezing Ada, "I'm Sorry Ada, I didn't realize I had you so tightly." He apologized to the Doll who then bopped him on the head and pouted, warbling something about Hitori needs to calm down.

After hearing a lot of bad and loud noise Hitori noticed the tension was high and walked toward the Princess, "The Cassius Man, he hates us doesn't he? I mean I wouldn't mind if it was only me, I'm used to that by now but...He has no reason to hate the rest of you...I don't understand the hate in his heart at all." Ada heard this and sighed as he climbed onto Hitori's shoulder and sat down, petting his ears.

[Assistant]
Dren had found himself a little corner the prior night and had tipped his hat brim over his face so as not to be disturbed by a morning of descending light. Turns out it didn't work too well... this was hardly his preferred choice of sleeping spot, after all. Were he to fall asleep sitting he'd prefer to do so in a fine armchair with a good book. No such things available in the forest of death and lung choking fog, sadly. And he was awoken by a booming voice that practically jolted him out of a particularly odd dream involving a chicken becoming an egg and vice versa.

"Blimey..." he muttered as he stood up and brushed himself down and set his top hat back in its rightful position atop his bonce. He took a moment to cast his gaze around the ship. Everyone seemed to be preparing to move out, something he was more than fine with. The large one he had helped yesterday seemed to be recovering nicely, the fox was being prodded by... the princess of all people. Hm. He didn't think it would be proper of a princess... or was it queens he was thinking of? Whatever, not his business. The ladies from last night seemed more than occupied too.

Aaaaand the one person Dren actually trusted slightly had just stormed out... mentioning something about clearing a path. He was torn slightly, half of him considering it wouldn't be worth going after him in a state such as this, not to mention that Blank person had also gone... but on the other hand, were he to be a beneficiary to their group, his potions and concoctions would be his best bet... and he knew his cloak contained a decent amount of empty glassware right now. He couldn't whip up anything too complex given he was in the wild without the proper tools for big time potions... but if he could even just find a few simple herbs and materials, he might at the very least be able to provide something for the group, a handy healing potion per person would certainly be useful... he only lamented not being able to sell them. He could try but in this climate, he'd be asking for trouble.

With a stamp of his cane on the ground, he headed out, not uttering a word to the others, they'd barely noticed him at this point anyway, he found the two duelists going at it nearby and decided to wait until they done or he could catch their attention before he spoke up.
"Pardon the intrusion." he began formally with a slight tip of his hat. "I overheard mention of a healing spring and furthermore, a need to clear a path. I'd like to accompany you myself. More hands to carry supplies, and if I can find some good ingredients, we can hand out some proper curatives to the group before we proceed anywhere danger... well, more dangerous." he corrected himself mid sentence.

[User]
Karn simply just looked at Cassius, her expression unchanging from the calm monotone. "The correct term is pussy, as I'm not a dog. But I'd rather be a asshole then a temperamental child. Ready to point their gun at anyone that offends their good graces. Grow up. Crossdresser."  came another blunt calm response, before watching him go. Her emerald gaze narrowed at the Princess but turned to look at Blank as he spoke to her. She simply crossed her arms over her chest. Her face remaining the same, showing no hint of remorse or guilt or anger nor joy in the matter at hand.

"I'm a asshole. Shocker. I'm not going to pretend and play the cute kitten just to please someone who throws a tantrum as they try to play leader. Threatening those who don't agree or do what they say. Someone like that doesn't deserve to be treated like how they want to be. I ain't gonna lie or beat around the bush just because he can. Like it or not, someone like him needs to be treated like this to turn him down a few pegs and show him a little bit of reality. Their blindness often kills people anyway. If that makes me a bad guy then so be it. I was already tired rolling over for people like him years ago. Only thing we have in common is the same mission. Once that's done, he can go continue with his own kind. Won't have to deal with asshole Karn once the Princess is safely in Lindbulm." The blonde replied, in the same monotone blunt manner. She knew very well she was a asshole, she spoke her mind to a fault. Wasn't generally a likable person because of it. But at least she was a honest asshole who knew herself.

Sure, that made her more harder to make friends with whomever, but she didn't mind. She had her family, the only ones that did know her and understood. And even then, she was pretty sure she'd be fine if she had to live in solitude. She wouldn't be ashamed of herself regardless. Still she watched as Blank follow after the crossdresser, rolling her eyes as she checked around for needed supplies while checking on the rest of the crew. Lightly kicking them awake.

[Assistant]
As the night went on and others had gone off to rest, Randy would rather remain quite restless. He had managed to get himself standing back on two feet and was oddly rather proud of that feet despite it likely not to be fully contribute to him. Seeing as others, aid him by both bringing him here in the first place and also giving him some restorative agents such as potions and that fruit. The latter he had still not taken since the need for it seemed to be rather gone for the time being. Perhaps it was the potions or simply because Randy felt like doing stuff instead of lying around with more rest. He felt like he had plenty of that on the way here and lying about the floor only a few moments ago. If anything an excitement and energetic feeling was rather passing through him quite quickly. He had to go do something with that.

He began immediately working or trying to find things to work or do with this new found energy arising in the night. He began to try gather and scavenge bunch of random things that seemed appeared to be useful for possible repair, or fuel for a fire or anything that seemed to have use or in need of repair including tools if there was any to be found. He began humming along while cleaning the mallet he had with him against any spare cloth or rag if it could be found if not, his overalls would have to do. The thought of having goblin skull and brain upon the tool was a little sickening. The events of using the mallet today were somewhat exciting and a bit romanticized trying to glance over the death inflicted. Poets would have exaggerated the event as much as his daydreaming would, and that had been happening all day.

He looked about and tried to find something else of small entertainment to keep him focused instead of daydreaming. Perhaps a small music box that played a sweet tune or Romantic music would be a nice or some schematic for a later project to give interest and desire. If nothing of the sort could be found, he would rather set out to repairing or trying to better any piece of junk that was lying around or simply pointless tasks such as stacking objects on top of each other. Briefly imagining himself as poet. "The iron bent shaped" He began whispering and took a pause to come up with more words. "Composed is into a new shape…" He took another pause starting to struggle with the form. "is lost but pleasured." He shrugged, it would do for now. It was, somewhat impressive to him. Despite its lack of expression, effort or beauty into it.

Time had flew on by. It seemed like the night was being lost. He quickly flopped onto the ground and lied there with his eyes closed in order to try and sleep. Sleep did not come, but a wakeup call did and that was soon followed by a nudge. Randy feigned pandiculation, rather poorly. He immediately stood up and tried to zone his attention back as to what was going on. It seemed he was rather having trouble, for a few seconds it felt like he had rather gone deaf except for a few tunes playing through his head. It was dismissed as himself zoning out briefly. He did, however manage to notice Hitori's rather startled awakening. Randy rather, and somewhat oddly went after the other to try and calm them but that seemed a mistake from square one with his own conversational skill set. He would try to pat Hitori softly on the back and ask simply in a word "Nightmare?" rather quietly.

[User]
"Wan't to fall on paw, Karn?" Wylde asked when the demihuman poked her leg. Wylde was just having a nice relaxing lazing around since she woke up a while back. She liked to lazy around after waking up, it felt nice. She looked up at Karn with a smile, she liked the demi human. Liked her a lot for she was fun and amusing. Not to mention all those puns just tickled something within the warrior and made her want to join in them.

 The following exchange with Cassius, made Wylde raise an eyebrow as she began remembering why it was exactly that she left the army along with her goal to one day beat the general. She disliked all the attitudes in the capital.

 "I'm actually with you on the opinion about… what's his name?" Wylde asked, realizing she didn't really know him. Or if they told her yesterday she did not remember. Anyway, Cassius didn't seem like too nice of a company right now. That said she liked the thieves, they made for fun partners and traveling companions. Granted one needed to keep his purse in check around them, but considering Wylde was currently dead broke with no money, it was fine.

 "Anyway, he seems annoying… who knows maybe he will fall in line and turn okey at the end, but for now I prefer away from him. Least I hit him if he tries to point that weapon at me for some reason." She said as she stretched her arms and yawned.


[System]
Age: 17

Heritage: The son of Hatter Madrail. Ghent's mother was murdered a few years after he was born.

Adoptive parents: Frederick and Elise Preston. Elise was the first to find Hatter's son; she was astonished to discover him in the woods near their home, disoriented and impossibly lost.

Appearance: Thick, medium length black hair. The style is unpredictable, but the layers sometimes give it an unruly appearance. His bangs fall in front of his eyes, which are blue in color and have a sharp, piercing quality to them. The rest of his features are dark and seem to contrast against his paler-than-should-be skin. He has a lithe build and currently stands at 5'9", but has about a year left to grow.

Distinguishing Marks: A few light freckles running across the bridge of his nose. A more noticeable one is underneath his left eye. He has a small scar underneath his jaw.

Clothes Wear: Whatever's comfortable. He usually wears hoodies, jeans, worn out sneakers, and three quarter/graphic t-shirts.

Abilities: Strength and magic, both inherited from his race. As far as magic goes, Ghent was completely unaware of the ability until Drust and Elayra came to earth. Understandably, he is inexperienced but has the potential to become better with practice.

Weapons: A staff, given to him on page 13.

Personality: It's no secret that Ghent can be a pain. He isn't malicious, but he enjoys pushing the buttons of others in order to get a reaction out of them. His sarcasm usually lands him in trouble, but his past experiences haven't been enough for him to keep his mouth shut. Despite his immaturity, he has a good heart. Ghent has lazy tendencies, but can be hard working with proper motivation.

Major Positive Traits: Compassionate. Empathetic. Hardworking (sometimes).

Major Negative Traits: Sarcastic. Cocky. Klutz. Impulsive. Awkward.

Weaknesses: At times, Ghent doubts himself and his abilities. The fear of failure usually prevents him from achieving success. Having lived in two worlds, he struggles with deciding where he belongs and where his loyalties lie.

Ticks and Tags: Ticks: Fidgets a lot, often with the drawstrings of his hoodies. When he's faced with a situation he can't wrap his mind around, he will pace and/or mumble to himself until he can make sense of what's happening.  Tags: "Cut me some slack!" "Great." "Wait, what?"

Fears: Ghosts. Failure. Being unable to return home. Wonderland in general.

Short Bio: Ghent's story could have been a tragic one, had he not been found. He was discovered in a forest as a toddler, and later adopted by the very family that took him in.
 For much of his childhood, Ghent lived in the comforts of a small farmhouse in the country. Life was serene, quiet, and good. He grew up happy and healthy, with a mother who doted on him and a dedicated, hardworking father.
 Things changed when they moved. Seeking better employment, Mr. Preston uprooted his family to the city, which is where they remained for the years that followed.
 The city posed many differences and challenges, but Ghent learned to adapt and knew his way around. Unfortunately, street smarts didn't help much in school.
 As Ghent grew older, the nightmares and flashbacks became more frequent. Different events or images would trigger a memory, many of which involved Elayra and Drust. The memories confused and frightened Ghent. He never forgot Wonderland, but he learned to stop talking about it after his parents sought him professional help. It was something his mother made the mistake of telling her longtime friend, Mrs. Saxon.
 News spread and rumors started. High school proved to be Ghent's biggest obstacle. He became an easy target for jokes and ridicule, and his grades began to suffer for it.
 Motivated by money and the desire to help his family financially, he began to take on odd jobs. His fifth job turned out to be his favorite: a part-time shift at Frank's Book Barn.
 Even there, Ghent wasn't free from Wonderland. Flashbacks would hit him at the most inconvenient times…and they didn't cease until became reunited with two important faces from his past.

Other Important Characters

Name: Henry

Age: 14

Appearance:  Henry is thin, wiry, with no muscle tone whatsoever. He makes an effort to look neat, but his untamed shock of ginger hair betrays him by looking a mess and his freckles are out of control. When reading, he wears thick black glasses over his large, brown eyes that give him an owlish appearance.

Clothes wear: Henry wears an odd mix of clothing. Most of his clothes are hand-me-downs from previous cousins, including Ghent. When his options are limited, he can be found wearing faded graphic t-shirts (he favors Disney ones) and jeans that have been rolled up at the cuffs in order to fit.

Personality: Despite a rocky home life, Henry remains optimistic, but he has a sensitive side that results in him crying at the drop of a hat. Although he has a sweet, childlike innocence about him, he isn't foolish. He's remarkably intelligent and has a great love for reading and learning. Because of his OCD, Henry is always cleaning and organizing, and likes to keep busy in order to make himself useful. His desire for perfect order can be a little overwhelming at times, but he means no ill intent and has great respect for his family and friends.

Bio: Henry is an only child who never longed for the company of a sibling. Growing up in the country, he had plenty of family and cousins to spend his time with. The families all lived quite close in the rural area, including the Preston family.
 Even as a toddler, Henry was fascinated by Ghent and seemed to gravitate towards him, viewing him as an older brother figure. To the delight of their parents, the three year age gap and a difference in personality didn't prevent the two boys from getting along.
 After the Preston family moved to the city, Henry was heartbroken. The families kept in touch when possible, making multiple visits during the holidays. The visits lessened over the years, but Henry took it upon himself to keep in touch through any means possible. To Elise's delight (and to Frederick and Ghent's dismay) Henry has been known to leave long rambling phone messages, sends more texts than a teenage girl, and writes letters so long, they need to be mailed in multiple envelopes.
 Henry is the only one Ghent continued to trust with his few memories of Wonderland. Their efforts to uncover the mystery were admirable, but brought nothing but disappointment and wild theories. Eventually, a disgruntled Ghent gave up, but Henry continued to search for the truth behind his cousin's past.

[User]
As soon as it was Elayra's turn to keep watch, Ghent handed over the OmniChrono and returned to his backpack. He mumbled some sort of warning about the fog to her, but the words came out in a slurred, jumbled mess. Unsurprisingly, it didn't take long for him to fall into a deep sleep, his surroundings completely lost to him.
 When morning came around, Ghent was lying on his back, his arms and legs sprawled out in weird angles like he'd fallen from a tree. He would have stayed that way for hours, had it not been for Elayra. The grip on his shoulder pulled Ghent out of his dreamless sleep, startling him awake.
 "What? What's going on?" Ghent started to sit up, completely disoriented. As Elayra came into focus, he heard her mention breakfast. Normally, that would be enough to entice him, but he was too tired to care about food. He groaned and flopped his head against his backpack, pulling the cloak over his face in the same action.
 "Breakfast? My stomach isn't even awake yet!" Ghent complained, the words muffled underneath the fabric. He wasn't ready to face the day, and he definitely wasn't ready to face Wonderland.
 As if to prove his statement wrong, his stomach growled. Ghent grimaced. He wanted nothing more than to get a few more precious moments of sleep, but the prospect of getting out of Hollow Forest was enough for him to reconsider.
 Slow as a sloth, he sat up, the cloak slipping down to settle in his lap. "Fiiine," he sighed in defeat, suspecting had no choice in the matter regardless of what he wanted. He began to stand, stiff and sore after their misadventures through Wonderland.
 "Let me guess. We're eating that weird, bumpy jerky again," he rubbed at his eye, sniffing once as he studied her face. "And it's Ghent, Blondie," he grumbled, knocking a stray twig out of his hair. "How'd you sleep? Man, that Kingly Cure-All sure knocked you out. I thought you were in a coma or something."

[Assistant]
Elayra pulled back when Ghent stirred. Remaining crouched, she rested her hands on her knees. He wasn't the quickest waker, but at least it didn't take more than one attempt to get him up.
 She rolled her eyes as his stomach contradicted Ghent's statement. "Riiight."
 She stood as he did. Her cloak shifted as she crossed her arms over her chest. She sighed heavily, noticing his stiff movements. If that didn't work itself out, he'd slow them down. And the last thing she wanted was to have to spend more time in Hollow Forest than necessary.
 She glanced to the lightening forest. A couple shapes swirled in the fog, wandering almost in a confused state before vanishing.
 She turned her attention back to Ghent with a snort at his comment about the jerky. "Get used to it. There's nothing to hunt here, anyway." She frowned as the memory of her last kill, the deerdrin, came longingly to mind. Though she didn't mind the toatunt jerky, she'd take deerdrin instead any day. "Living animals don't come here. Even the Cursed ones are too smart for that."
 She shrugged at his question. "Felt like I was in a coma. But it worked." She rubbed the back of her head lightly, the bump that had formed there already gone. "And it's Elayra, Featherhead," she added, smirking to attempt hiding her annoyance at the nickname.
 She glanced to Drust as he pulled a worn hooded cowl from his bag. He let it drop beside the bundle of jerky, a piece of the cured meat in his mouth.
 She reached into her pouch again and removed the OmniChrono. "Drust."
 As soon as he focused on her, Elayra tossed the Chrono to him.
 He caught it easily in one hand and grabbed the bundle of jerky in the other. Without missing a beat, he tossed the bundle to her. He jerked his head to Ghent as he placed the Chrono in one of the belt pouches already in their place at his waist.
 "What's it gonna be?" She held the long bundle out to Ghent. "Breakfast, or starve until you have the time to hunt and skin something else?"
 Drust tore off the end of his jerky with his teeth. "There won't be time," he growled around the jerky. He closed his pack and glanced to Ghent. "Keep out a couple pieces. Put the rest in your pack." He slipped the cowl on over his head, keeping the hood down. It matched the rest of his brown and black clothing, its once vivid coloring faded with use and age. "We've delayed enough as it is."

[User]
The comment threw Ghent through a loop. Was he actually expected to hunt and skin his own food? The idea didn't sit well with him. He almost threw up in the school bathroom after he got stuck dissecting an abnormally large rat. Before he could dwell too much into it, Drust's irritable voice reminded him that he needed to make a decision.
 "U-uh. Yeah. I'll dissect – eat -- the toatunt," he hastily corrected himself as he took the bundle. He inwardly cringed as he unwrapped the cloth, selecting a few pieces of jerky before handing the remaining half back to Elayra.
 Sniffling, Ghent bit off a corner piece with the least amount of bumps on it. He studied Drust as he instructed him what to do with the extra portions, their conversation from the night before fresh in his mind. He wanted to ask the Knight more about himself and Hatter, but realized it was a poor time.
 Keeping the jerky between his teeth and the rest in his fist, Ghent returned to his belongings. He tossed the extra pieces inside of his backpack without bothering to wrap them in anything, grunting as he struggled to zip the now-stuck zipper. With one final tug, it zippered shut, but the zipper pull broke off.
 "Seriously?" Ghent's mutterings were difficult to decipher with his mouth full of toatunt. He sat on top of his backpack like it was a beanbag chair, a weary sigh escaping him. He forced himself to take another bite of the strangely textured jerky, studying the hooded Knight as he ate.
 Inspired by Drust and influenced by the temperature, Ghent grabbed his own cloak from the ground. He adjusted the fabric so it rested against his shoulders, secretly envying Drust's ability to make everything look cool.
 "You know, if this didn't have bumps all over it, it wouldn't be half bad." Ghent swallowed another bite of breakfast, doing what he could to convince himself that the flavor wasn't as terrible as he remembered it. "It'd probably taste better with ketchup though."


[System]
Age: 17
Gender: female
Race: Human

weapon: Ichaival - Is a upgraded Multi Variable Assault Rifle customized to fit any situation it ranges from a sniper, machine gun, to a long barrel rifle(bladed). It has been modified to fire condensed dust bullets creating different effects depending on the dust cartridge. When in active it takes the form of a iron plated briefcase that is carried by a black leather strap. Formerly known as Byakko Ichaival has went through numerous upgrades overhauling the the weapon to perform better under stressful situations. Due to the strenuous events during missions caused damage to the inner workings of byakko. With the reworking of Byakko Cian was forced to make numerous changes as to best use what she had avaliable being able to add a shotgun form to the weapon as well.

Specialty: ranged support/gunslinger

Semblance: Her semblance is a more defensive oriented one in which it allows her to create a cyan colored honeycombed shaped shield to protect herself and others from life endangering attacks. The barrier though is powered by her resolve and the more she wishes to survive and or protect others the stronger it becomes. Though in theory its a absolute defense she can only keep it up for so long.

Personality: Cian can come across as rude at times if not a bit standoffish. She often prefers silence to loud noise though has been making strides to socalize with her fellow peers more often. With that said she has a soft side that is often seldom seen she doesnt like to but when push comes to shove she is more than willing to step up to the plate to deliver. Cian can be called stubborn refusing to quit doing things till she believes she is done this can lead to her overexerting herself at times to a point that isn't healthy. Due to incidents in her past she has a fear of faunus that she is slowly starting to get past but it is a slow progress in the long run.

Color: cyan

Emblem:

Appearance:

[User]
Sepia Russet - Corridor, Approaching Gym

"Wait, so why did you want to visit the gym?" As Sepia and her "parents" got closer to the location in question, her curiosity over Datura's request to go to such a hotspot for student activity increased. So far, the young woman had wanted absolutely nothing more than necessary to do with Beacon as a whole, much less any particular locations. The only response Sepia got was a flash of purple eyes and a sullen sigh. Well, it wasn't like she expected any different from her ever-testy...what, exactly? She'd told the student earlier that Datura was her adoptive mother, which was the simplest and most technically accurate answer. However, the true nature of their relationship had never been clear to begin with and was even more so currently. Sepia had always held a sort of distant admiration - and admittedly a tiny bit of a girl crush - for her older companion, but the other girl seemed to flip between viciously protective and deeply bitter at a moment's notice. Really, the only thing consistent about her behavior was the way she was practically glued to Soot every time they were together.

To his credit, Soot never seemed to favor either of "his girls" over the other. Not that Sepia could feel the jealousy practically rolling off of Datura whenever Soot spoiled the coydog faunus or anything. Oh well, the ex-"free-fighter" probably deserved to be a little bit defensive over sources of genuine affection at this point. "I can live with it. It's my fault she's like this."

A strange sensation made Sepia stop walking suddenly, and it was only Soot's hand on Datura's shoulder that kept her from running into her daughter's back.

"Do you feel something unusual?" Soot questioned, picking up on her reason for abruptly halting.

It was difficult to put into exact words, but everything seemed to...echo, somehow. Whereas the general feelings and vague thoughts of those nearby had previously simply settled into a constant hum in the corners of her mind, they now seemed to split, one half behaving like normal while the other pulled to a single point in the distance. That point was bouncing them back at her occasionally, and the slight de-synch combined with the increased "volume" was threating to trigger a migraine. "Ugh...I'm getting some kind of interference, if that makes any sense." She rubbed the slightly raised edge of what had to be her least favorite scar (not that she had many to choose from), one that while long, was hidden entirely under her hair most of the time due to its location on her scalp.

"Head acting up?" His tone was so guilty, jeez it was just going to make things worse.

"Not yet. I hope whatever is causing this is temporary, though."

[Assistant]
75% GLAD

"Thank you, thank you, thank you! I knew you were still a good guy deep down, Nii-chan!"

"AAAAARGH WHAT THE HELL GET OFF GET OFF GET OFF!"

Picture this scenario, if you would.

A young man of a slight build is trapped in the position of leaning against the edge of a table, where there sits a very intricate piece of partially disassembled machinery. He is trapped for reasons twofold: one being that the necessary force to free himself could send something, like a small and difficult to notice gear or widget for instance, flying.

The second is what he is trying to escape: In this instance a little sister. However, she is no normal little sister. Struggle and squirm though he might, with all of his available might, he is at a distinct disadvantage in three areas.

Firstly, and most simply, size. Despite being her elder by 3 years and male, the young man is actually shorter and only mildly stockier than his sister. Her longer limbs give increased leverage on her squeeze, making his advantage in mass nearly useless.

Secondly, positioning. He is leaned, practically seated upon, the edge of the workbench, which thereby leaves his body in a suboptimal position for force generation in relation to it's base and center of gravity. She is fully clinging to him, and squeezing tight leaves her no need for such stability in the base.

Finally, skill. She is a girl who regularly trains her jiujitsu with black belts, and is herself at the upper end of a brown belt level. He is the result of some slapdash cross-training in many arts for a mere six months, with an emphasis on getting skills up and running as fast as possible since the time for refinement was lacking.

All in all, it's a desolate scene for him, isn't it?

"April, this is seriously starting to freak me out!"

Even as I thrashed and tried my level best to extricate myself from her clutches, the most dangerous thing to wear bumblebee colors since nuclear waste held fast, giggling happily. Giggling! Happily!

Call hell, tell it to stop freezing!

"Heeheehee, it's been so long since I've given you a big ol' hug like this..."

"I know, that's why it's creepy! What's with this sudden 180 in personality?! We've fought since middle school!" I demanded, trying and failing to pummel for an underhook. What happened to the mutual antagonism from five minutes ago?! I mean, I could understand if my offer had simply gotten her off of my back, but how the hell did glomping enter the equation?

"Well... To be honest, Nii-chan," she began, calming down but still not letting go. P-Progress, right? "I was actually really hoping I would get to use those gauntlets one day. Like, super hopeful about it."

"...Is that right?"

Well, it wasn't as if that didn't make sense. April had always been the one we all agreed took after our mother the most, and not just because she inherited all the height. Though it's tempered with age, I've heard stories of Mom being a similar firebrand who loved brawling when she was younger, and it's not hard to see where all that heat in April's blood comes from.

If you choose to believe it, that is. But it's reflected in Dawn too, if more subtly, and therefore I'm fairly sure it's my only option to believe that the unbelievable woman that was my mother was once a crazy kid too.

"Mm. It's right." April affirmed, somehow finding space to casually use me as a springboard when she finally let go. What a mind-bendingly understated handspring... Forget martial arts, she even made gymnastics seem like a cakewalk. You're that Ninja...

...Or maybe I'm just stiff, slow, and unathletic.

We are Huntsmen-to-be.

"I was pretty down when I learned they were headed off to Beacon with you, but I've been making sure not to show it. Whining about your own misfortune isn't justice, right?"

I blinked, plopping back down into the chair with a thoughtful "hunh".

"So then, you've been holding out for me to not use them anymore?"

What kind of plan was that? For someone who could make due with just her fists and semblance, I suppose it was more feasible than it would be for most.

But even so, she herself admitted that it wasn't going to last her for much longer than it had. If I weren't planning on giving up the gauntlets, where would that have left her aside from shit out of luck?

"Of course not, stupid." she scoffed. "Like I said, I was beginnin' to think of other options... But none of them would have felt as right as taking up Mama's mantle. So I'm really happy you'll let me, is all."

"Wow, so you guys actually made up? Impressive!"

I was fairly sure I had not heard that door open.

In walked two young women, one I instantly recognized and the other I had the vaguely familiar feeling about that, in hindsight, should have told me who she was. Dawn Schwarz was very distinct in her colorful yukata, feminine and subdued demeanor (comparatively [in regards to her sister]), and family resemblance to me, being my little sister and all.

The other was a girl about April's age, maybe a bit older, with dark hair and all the expressiveness of a particularly joyful rendition of the Thinker statue. Very familiar, but I was drawing a blank at the moment with the whirlwind I was going through.

"Oh, Hiya, Dawn an' Galla!" April chirped in greeting, raising a hand. "Sorry for running off on you guys like that, but I found Nii-chan!"

"...Hi. I'm Luke."

I didn't really know what to think or say beyond that. It wasn't like Galla was giving me much to work with...

"Aw, drat, I wanted to handle introductions..." Dawn groused momentarily, before returning to her prim smile. "You look well, Onii-chan! In one piece and everything!"

"Don't say 'in one piece' like that's exceeding expectations. I'm not porcelain."

"Yeah, but like I was telling Galla here, April was trying to rip your head off..."

A very poorly, "innocently" whistled tune from my left cued a flat look aside to my bigger sister before I continued to address the littler one.

"Alright, fair point. And yeah, I am managing, more or less, but the year's just started and it's about to kick in. As in, kick in in full."

And kick in my teeth.

I refused to delude myself whenever I appraised where I stood in life. And, to speak of appraisal, I shifted in my seat to face the stoic girl alongside my sly little sister, and inclined my head in a small gesture of supplication.

"I'm sorry if they've been dragging you along on their hijinks, Galla. These two don't understand the concepts of 'personal space' or 'leaving well alone', so it's alright to let me know."

Galla.

GallaGallaGalla.

...Was that Central Mistralese?

Hm.

I just had to know the answer to this...

I knew this. I could figure it out.

[User]
Mindaro Mondays - Galla

She took in the scene before her with lifeless, hazel eyes. It was immediately obvious from the physical similarities and a lack of other options that the messy-haired young man on the chair was the same big brother that Dawn had spoken of. And, taking into account the droop of the cowlick on his head, the likely object of her sister's curiosities. It seemed like it really did run in the family. It also appeared to be the only indicator of the struggle he must have overcome mere moments before their rival; the rest of him, a few scuff marks aside, appeared to be entirely unharmed, as if he had managed to successfully avoid the supposedly-inevitable assault that the elder of the Schwarz sisters had promised.

The healing-based semblance he possessed was clearly effective.

"Hi Luke," she replied immediately.

He appeared to recognise her. If he was familiar with big sister, then that was expected; it was Family Day.

"I'll consider your offer."

Her tone, patient and unnaturally calm, did not change an iota.

[Assistant]
:

And Geni held Gratia's unyielding gaze without wavering. In her demeanor he found a mixture of laxed professionalism and apathetic intrigue. It was an off-putting duo, but Geni held no qualms against it and he in fact welcomed it. Her ever-searching gaze was nothing compared to that he had held in the past. It paled in comparison.

"Pre-arranged during my absence. I'm officially apart of team Vignoble."

[User]
Minazuki
Cian Kuze

"Sounds like a plan if any" Cian said as she headed out if anything it would be a quick and easy thing since no one had any plans this was probably the best solution staying in school and getting cheap food was always a plus if you asked her. "Tristan let out a sigh as he took of his hat and rubbed his head it was good she was opening up but at the same time he kind of wished it wasn't with the opposite sex is this what fathers felt when their daughters started dating? If so he was never having children period there was no if ands or buts about it. This was hell and he knew it and he did not want to go through it a second time that was for certain.


[System]
Age: 211, to his best estimate
Height: 6'2"
Weight: 192 lbs
Race: Vampire
Birthplace: England, circa 1667 (Elizabethan era)
Short Bio: Born in the Elizabethan era and surviving into the Victorian, Vail has seen the rise and fall of two centuries' worth of dynasties—not just human, but supernatural as well. As a member of the Hygrace family, he was raised in the wealth and prestige of the most powerful vampire clan in London. His uncle, Lord Reginald Hygrace, was a respected leader, known across the nation for offering protection to any vampires who needed sanctuary from The Order of the Saints: an influential group of men and women who tracked down and killed the "demons" for a living.

For nearly a century, Reginald's efforts kept both his family and the rest of the vampires safe. However, around the year 1750, he made the mistake of taking in a man named Lord Elias Wynter. At a glance, Elias seemed like just another refugee seeking sanctuary with the Hygrace family, but in truth, he sought to overthrow the ruling dynasty completely.

Unbeknownst to the Hygraces, the Wynters had been plotting for quite a while to take over and change the way that vampires lived in England altogether. They believed that as "superior beings," they should fight back against humans instead of hiding from them in fear. They saw the Hygraces were weak and cowardly, unfit to lead their kind, and so started a rebellion.

When he commenced his attack, Elias managed to kill Reginald, but his attempt to finish off the rest of the oldest generation was cut short by his victim's younger brother—Vail's father—Peter, who went on to take over as the leader of the Hygrace clan in his sibling's stead. Unfortunately, the Wynter family refused to give up after just one defeat and has continued to fight for power against the ruling dynasty ever since.

For Vail, the following century of his life was spent predominantly in hiding. As the son of the most powerful vampire in England, he had to look out not only for members of the Saints but the Wynters as well. With such a large target on his back, he learned how to fight and wield a gun in order to protect himself. Both skills have saved his life since.

Of course, he can't spend all his time in seclusion without going stir crazy, so he finds time to attend parties and other large gatherings put on by other aristocrats in London to get out of the Hygrace manor on occasion.

[User]
When Victoria argued with him about his injury, Vail rolled his eyes. Though it was a nuisance to get shot, the bullets were never fatal unless they touched the heart. He understood that to a human, it would have been shocking, but he had survived plenty worse than a hit to the shoulder. Besides that, he was already far along in the healing process from what he could tell. The constant ache in his shoulder had subsided, and it no longer pained him to move his arm. While a part of that was probably because he had just fed, he was certain he was recovering at a rapid pace. In a week, it would be as if he had never been shot to begin with.

As the Lady suggested that he should try to control his frenzy, he couldn't stop the short laugh that escaped his lips. "It's not that simple," he expressed, folding his arms over his chest. "A frenzy is a loss of control. If I could prevent it, I would, but unfortunately, that's not how it works." He flashed her an amused smile. "You came across me when I hadn't fed recently enough to stay in control. I'm sure Spencer is hunting regularly if he's able to remain as calm as you say, otherwise he would be even more dangerous than I was."

"Besides that," his smile turned into a smirk. "You were the one who instigated it. I had no intention of coming after you until you waved your blood right under my nose. A move like that would have driven any vampire mad." Until tonight, he had been trying to stay away from her, since he didn't want to become a target of the Order by attacking the Crest heiress. Obviously, that plan had since been torn apart and thrown out the window. It was too late to take back what he'd done now. Even if he could, he wasn't sure he wanted to. Her blood had been like nothing he'd ever tasted before, and he would feed on it again in a heartbeat if he had the chance. After he'd experienced it for himself, it seemed worth risking the wrath of the Saints.

When Victoria said she was glad she could help him, Vail nodded. He wasn't sure she'd had much of a choice in helping him, since he'd had her pinned to the ground at the time, but he certainly appreciated her compliance. It had been much easier than relying on overpowering her to land a bite. Usually when he went hunting, his prey was either too woozy to fight back after spending enough time exposed to his pheromones or he would have to wrestle them into submission. There had never been an in-between before. It had been a rather pleasant change of pace. He licked his lips at the thought.

As Victoria finally bade him goodnight, Vail returned her curtsey with an elegant bow. "Sleep well, My Lady," he said, wishing her well. When he straightened again, the mischievous look he saw on her face took him by surprise. It was unexpectedly alluring, quite different from the sweet and gentle expressions most Ladies wore in that day and age. He found that he liked the spirit behind it.

"And I as well," he agreed genuinely. Apart from her unique blood, there was something appealing about Victoria that made him feel drawn to seek her out again. Unfortunately, it would be quite a while before he would have the chance. Now that he had been sufficiently fed, he needed to return to the Hygrace manor, where the rest of his family was hidden away from the world and where he would be safe from the Order.

Somehow, it felt just a bit lonelier than before.

"Have a good night," he said softly, turning to walk back to his own home now that Lady Crest had been returned to hers.

[Assistant]
The Lady bade Vail a farewell somewhat solemnly as he turned away, her gaze would linger on him before he completely disappeared into the darkness. She sighed and ventured inside the gateway to her estate. Upon entering the dark house, one lone candle remained on for her return. She picked it up and took it with her to the bathroom where she commenced the clean up of her puncture wounds. Some of the blood had already clotted up the holes. But she had to clean the blood off her neck and hands before going to sleep. It would be a few days before she could go back out with fresh puncture wounds that may attract unwanted attention.Thus she would spend the next few days in the house training with her French rapier. She enlisted the best instructor in the city to come to her estate and train her rigorously in the last six months since her father died. Without him to train her, she couldn't allow herself to lapse. She took matters into her own hands. She managed the estate's affairs and controlled the money net in and out flow best she could.

Whenever she wasn't fencing, she was out horse-riding in the grounds with targets she had tied up to the trees. And although she had the crossbow and few silver bolts, what she really desired was a gun with silver bullets. Obtaining such an item would be difficult for the Lady to purchase without raising suspicion and drawing attention to herself. A normal gun mayhap with normal bullets. But that would do no good. So, for now she had to settle for the crossbow. As she rode through the forested grounds a kilometre from the main house. She rode past the summer house and took a shot at a swinging target in the wind and rain. The bolt hit the third ring. She cursed at her poor attempt as she lined up for the next target high up in the treeline. Further away but she managed to hit the second ring. Perhaps her strength lay in a longer distance shot.

Finally, she rode past a target and leaned sideways over the horse to shot back over her shoulder at the target. It completely missed this time. She cursed again as she clicked her heel for the horse to gallop harder back to the house. "Again." She went three or four times before giving Shadow a break. She hopped down just outside the stable and walked him back to his stall where she gave him water and a feedback hooked over his nose. "Enjoy it, you've earned it boy." She nodded at the stallion before sighing. "Now to get a wolf…" She couldn't possibly fight alone. Although she would try, it was so easy for that vampire to disarm her the other night, an ally would surely help with distraction. If she hoped to attack Spencer before their wedding, she needed to get better and fast.
The Market
With her wounds fully healed over and still adorning a high-necked shirt with frilly collar under her black leather jacket, she ventured out to the market to obtain her father's red jacket tailored to her own size. And then she would finally start to walk in his shoes. As she retrieved the tailored red velvet jacket with golden buttons, she gasped with awe when she put it on and looking in the mirror.

"It suits Madam perfectly."

"It most certainly does…and its Ms, thanks." She told him with a small smile as she noticed the jacket stopped just shy of her curved plump rear. How it accented her hips and buttocks, she astounded herself. She'd certainly catch the attention of the male vampires without even needing to smell her blood. The more fuss she kicked up each night looking for Gerald, the more the Order would notice her and hopefully draw them out. She needed to know what happened to her father and she wasn't giving up. Not whilst she drew breath into her lungs. She wandered the market stalls before turning down a shadowed alleyway. She was on the lookout for a shady black-market dealer that would sell her the right gun and silver bullets. She kept her ears to the ground and her eyes peeled for shifty movements. Eventually she would spot a pattern of comers and goers from an unmarked building basement. Boxes were loaded and unloaded. She could smell the faint aroma of gun powder when she neared the building. She would walk past a few times up and down. Some of the commoner's wolf whistled the Lady as she passed them by. She had no time to even give them a glare as she was too caught up in her own investigations.

[User]
Over the course of the next few days, Vail remained in the Hygrace manor to finish healing from the wounds he'd received from the Saint's gun and Victoria's dagger. The speed of his recovery was remarkable, even to him. Even though feeding on humans always helped encourage the process, he'd never experienced something like this. The morning after he'd drank the Lady's blood, the laceration in his right leg had faded to a mere line of discolored skin, and the hole in his shoulder had closed up as well. It would only take two more days before both scars disappeared completely.

Throughout his time at home, Vail noticed that he was slowly reverting to a nocturnal rhythm as well. He continued to wake later in the day until he saw few hours of daylight before night fell. It was the more natural cycle for his kind, since they thrived and hunted in the darkness, but he knew he wouldn't be able to continue it forever. His family had switched to waking in the morning for the purpose of being seen out and about during the day. It was another method of protection, since the Order seemed to believe vampires couldn't handle standing in direct sunlight. While their fair skin was more prone to burning in prolonged exposure, it was easy to simply put on a tailcoat to cover the limbs and wander the town for an hour or so before returning to the manor.

Vail had a bit of a pass to sleep during the day now though. Since he'd been identified by a Saint, there was no reason for him to continue feigning being human. The Order likely knew who to look for, so the next best thing was to wait for them to either forget about him completely or sit back until the current generation died off, as he had done once in the past. He was content either way. After all, waking at night didn't necessarily mean he would be any more restricted than he was before. He was still free to come and go from the manor once the sun went down. He just had to watch his back a little more closely while the Saints were keeping a lookout for him. It wasn't an ideal situation, but it was manageable.

Of course, just because he could leave didn't mean he was going to.

Now that he'd fed recently enough to stave off the withdrawals, Vail decided there was no more reason to risk his neck by venturing into the city. Instead, he spent most of his waking hours in his room with the curtains drawn, so no one outside would notice the constant flicker of candlelight coming from his window each night, reading or painting or practicing any other quiet activities while his family slept. He found the time to be peaceful, enjoying the silence and the comfort of his own company. However, though it was mostly good, he couldn't stop his thoughts from occasionally drifting to something else: The Lady Victoria.

Despite the fact that his cravings were gone, he couldn't get her out of his head—or more specifically, her blood. Every time he thought about it, his mouth watered. It was like a drug that he couldn't get enough of. The vitality he'd experienced after tasting a mere trickle of the stuff was like nothing he'd ever felt before. As dangerous as it was to hunt down the same target twice, he wanted more of it. He wanted to feel the high of drinking the sweet blood that flowed through her veins, just ripe for the taking. It was practically consuming.

Letting out a sigh, Vail set down the paintbrush in his hand. Only a week had passed since the night he'd preyed on Victoria, but with each day, the temptation to seek her out again grew stronger. He knew it was a bad idea. She'd only allowed him to feed on her once, and she was involved with a member of the Wynter clan. If her soon-to-be husband discovered that there was someone else drinking the Lady's piquant blood before he could, he would surely be furious. Vail didn't want to instigate a fight between their families by stepping on Spencer's toes.

However, knowing that she was about to become the prey of another vampire made him bristle with annoyance. Even though he'd known from the start that she was to wed a Wynter and that he shouldn't have even dined on her in the first place, there was a jealousy blooming inside of him that wouldn't allow him to sit idly by and watch someone else have her instead. Knowing that someone else was a member of his family's rival clan just made it all the more unbearable.

Suddenly restless, Vail stood up from his easel to pace the edge of the room. As bad of an idea as it was, he itched to go out and look for the Lady again. He was sure he would find her if he tried. The last two times they had crossed paths was because she had been trying to learn more about her father. He doubted she had stopped since then. All he had to do was pick up her trail, stop her before she went home… and then what?

He ran a hand through his hair. It was a terrible idea. Completely awful. He wasn't even thirsty for more blood yet, so there was no reason to hunt her down after just a week. He should just stay in the manor until he needed to go out to satisfy his urge to feed. It was the right way to go about the situation.

Despite his reasoning, he found himself putting on a tailcoat.

I'll just walk around for a little while, he decided. If he burned off his excess energy, he would surely be able to put Victoria out of his mind, right? With no better plan, he headed out of the mansion and into the dark city streets, trying to convince himself that he would stay away from the Lady if he saw her.