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Hector Kazuhira

"Don't panic. Don't lose your head. We'll get through this together."

0 · 232 views · located in The City of Anthemia

a character in “Anthemia Academy for Hunters||Remaster”, as played by Shiki29

Description

Hector Kazuhira

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"Fighting for your whole life is not worth it."




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NAME: Hector Kazuhira

AGE: 20

HEIGHT: 6'3"

GENDER: Male

HOMELAND: Anthemia

PRIMARY CLASS: Exorcist

SECONDARY CLASS: Scholar



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LIKES:
✔Cooking
✔Studying
✔Chess
✔Firearms
✔Magic
✔Nature
✔Machinery
✔Astronomy
✔Research
✔Quantum and Theoretical Physics
✔Ancient Literature
✔Pen and Paper Games
✔Alchemy
✔Cryptography
✔Electronics
✔Suits
✔War

DISLIKES:
✘War
✘Disorganized bookshelves
✘Needless Cruelty
✘Greedy people
✘Explosions
✘Mind-reading done on him
✘Painting

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STRENGTHS:
Hector's main trait is his intelligence, which is easily at the genius or hyper-genius levels. It's on par with some of the highest recorded IQ's in the new or old world, and allows Hector to use and build devices with general ease. In addition, something Hector seems to be quite good at is reverse engineering of devices that he sees work, given that he has access to, or makes, a general description of the device's ambiguous components. Hector's skill at using electronics is also great, and, as a human calculator, he can write and decipher computer codes easily as well. Also, Hector's reflexes have been honed, to the point that he can engage in close combat, if necessary, with even Slayers, and probably defeat some of the less experienced ones. Hector's reflexes also extend to his high thought-speed: Hector's reflexes don't seem to rely on instinct, but on lightning-fast calculation and thought. Hector also has some experience with a few firearms, although, again, his experience with them tends to only be to the level of less-experienced Slayers. As a result of Hector's proficiency with magic and technology, Hector has been working on theories to make new kinds of magical weapons and devices that combine an equal amount of conventional scientific knowledge. While Hector has the ideas in mind, and while they would likely work, Hector does not have any readily available. When casting spells, Hector's magical skill and knowledge allow him to use magic with a massive level of efficiency, allowing him to cast more consecutive spells than most exorcists. Hector's casting ability and strength is also very high, certainly higher than most would expect a student to be. Finally, an unconventional mental strength is Hector's insanity. Someone who reads his mind would likely be horrified, sometimes too horrified to move or act.


WEAKNESSES:
Despite Hector's being a scholar, he's not a good leader. He can't bear the thought of leading, and then having to take responsibility for someone's death, should something go wrong. As a result, if put in a leader's position, Hector would only be satisfied with a strategy that he knows would result in no casualties. In addition, Hector's physique is not in top shape. As a result, hand-to-hand combat, for him, would only be able to be won with technique, not strength. If he meets an opponent with better technique, then it is likely that he would lose the fight. Hector also seems to ardently refuse to kill anyone. While he holds no such reservations for daemons, he fears the feeling of guilt that killing someone causes, a feeling he is too familiar with.

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PERSONALITY:
Hector is a very calm, generally gentle person, who hardly raises his voice, gets angry, or any of the like. Hector is also painfully shy, and does not enjoy speaking very much. While friendly to most, Hector is not a people-person, and would rather be alone, reading or researching something. Hector views life as interesting and good, more than anything else, and has a burning desire to learn more about the world, regardless of the subject. Hector's view on morality is that he seems to have none. While he is not ruthless in his methods, he is not particularly good, either. Hector can seemingly go from being amiable to committing shocking crimes, in order to reach his goal at the time. Hector's darker side takes the form of his insanity. Years of fighting war have led him to become cold and mechanical, when it comes to fighting or going on missions. When not on a mission, he only seems to be eccentric, rather than insane. Hector often under-reacts to things because he considers most things, even daemons, to be natural.


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BIOGRAPHY:
Hector was born in Anthemia, but was an orphan living on the streets. Life was difficult, until he met a general in the army who saw his talents, and knew how long he had lived in the streets and lived, which was 10 years. Hector was to enter a research project, designed to see how viable it would be to fight as a child soldier, and what effects it would have on one's life, provided they lived. Hector, and a few other kids were the initial test subjects. War was waged on various armed rebel groups in the various cities, while Hector aged to 15 years old. As the years went by, Hector and the general came to notice something that was horrible to Hector: The only child who survived the project was him. The rest died, or were captured, then replaced. As familiar faces and unfamiliar faces began to vanish and die, Hector slowly became more unhinged. Eventually, once they had begun to travel back to Anthemia, Hector fought the general and killed him with his magic. Hector crossed the short distance into the city as the rest of the children ran in the same direction. Once inside Anthemia, Hector managed to avoid suspicion for only a week, before he was caught by officers, and sentenced as the general's killer. Government intervention had allowed Hector to keep his freedom, provided he go to the academy that he had recently turned the right age for. Hector was happy at the prospect, but not at the fact that he would have to go on missions. Hector only wanted a peaceful life. However, after a few months of peace, Hector realized that, despite his hatred of war, he probably needed it. Resigned to his fate as a soldier, he decided to throw himself into the academy's curriculum. In a way. Hector managed to organize a schedule of days he would purposefully be absent for, in order to have more time to himself to study on his. He would catch up in his studies and ace the tests, but Hector's actions were designed to allow him to technically fulfill his part of the deal, while also hoping to eliminate the prospects of his becoming a soldier who saw much more combat. The reason Hector is opting to stay in the academy and study on his own, is in the hopes that he could become a researcher or a teacher, instead of a soldier.



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WEAPONS:
Hector wields a staff made of a black, plastic-like material, and a wand. Whatever he produces on the spot, with his technomancy, is also a weapon he may use, provided the materials for production are there. Finally, the equipment he produces on his own, including the ones comprised of both magic and technology, are weapons he may employ. However, the staff and wand are almost always what he leaves on a mission with. And a curved butterfly knife, that is surprisingly durable, despite it's flimsy design.


MAGICK:
Hector's magicks are based around elemental magic, energy magic, and tech, and his intelligence allows him to use each of his magical specialties to amazing versatility. Hector is adept at each element of magic, but especially so at fire. Hector is also surprisingly skilled at energy magic, and has found several applications for it on his own, in using his knowledge of quantum physics. Hector is also very skilled at tech magic, but to a degree higher than the other two. Hector's electric pulses are even able to be used as a direct weapon, to devastating effect.

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SKILLS:
Hector is skilled at cooking, chess, and is also a human calculator. As a result of having lost both eyes to an enemy soldier when he was 14, Hector received emergency medical therapy to bring back his ability to see, since he needed his eyes for use as a soldier. The stem cell therapy used was designed to give him better eyes then he already had, resulting in his snake-like eyes. These eyes allow him to see beer in the dark, and also allow him to see further distances than a normal human.

MISCELLANEOUS:
Hector keeps a small dog-tag that contains the names of all the people, adult and child, that he has fought alongside or killed, in extremely small text. Not out of respect, but out of a hate for war. On one side, it contains all the names of each individual Hector has fought alongside and against, that Hector found the names of. On the backside are the words, "The dead are not silent." Hector actually barely knows any of them, but he cannot stand the fact that they have died as a result of war. The only emotional attachment he has to them is the regret at being roped into war, that most of them have likely shared.

Hector has been to each major city in Kreonia that humans populate.

Theme songs:
Calling to the Night - Natasha Farrow
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ckW1T-uF3AQ

Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head - Nataly & Ryan
http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=Nq2_jLWbfLQ
Nuclear - Mike Oldfield
http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=RrkzIN2eP0U

So begins...

Hector Kazuhira's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Asher Donovan Character Portrait: Maddox Forester Character Portrait: Noel Audrey Rose Character Portrait: Hector Kazuhira
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#, as written by Shiki29
Hector was standing there, in the field. Surrounding him were various combatants, all armed to the teeth, of various ages. The youngest were ten. Hector himself was designated to command a small force of these children, until command changed their squads around. Not a problem. This was something that Hector was used to, as were many of the others who had lived up to this point. But none knew it for as long as Hector did. He was 14. His squad was made of younger children, including that 10-year old. A girl. Hector forgot her name, but she still kept her stuffed animal with her, holding it on her back, alongside her sub-machine gun. She was too small to effectively use an assault rifle, after all.

That was when Hector's perception flashed forward, to the daemon that interrupted their trip. The squads each were traveling while remaining in radio contact of each other. They were preserving the fuel of their gunships. Hector's squad had none, simply carrying their equipment on ground transport vehicles. Another soldier in Hector's squad had called out at the same time as a high-pitched scream pierced the silence of the day. Hector swung around.

The group had taken a short break, with their vehicle stopped. They were all playing outside, or sitting down. Either way, everyone had time to relax. The scream was the little girl, with her stuffed animal. She was being held by a tendril, belonging to a shapeless, flesh-coloured beast. Hector didn't know how it had gotten so close without anyone hearing it beforehand. But that was not the issue. Hector's mind focused on a million things at once on a slow day.

Now, everything was focused on her. Every muscle movement, every breath, every thought, was to rescue her. He had to. Even if it was a daemon that captured her. This was the first daemon Hector would have ever fought. He would call for help, for a hunter, but he knew there were none in the squad. They were alone.

The girl's screams grew louder as the creature opened it's mouth, and had eaten the girl. Her stuffed animal lay at the creature's base, below where the girl was being held a short moment ago.

That short moment was all Hector needed to get to the scene. It had eaten her, but he would fish her out of that thing if it was the last thing he would do. Everyone else was paralyzed with fear until a black wind dashed past them, with speed enhanced by magic. The others ran to the vehicle and brought out their equipment. That black wind was Hector. He always kept his weapons with him. A sub-machine gun with explosive bullets that could have the strength of their explosions enhanced by technomancy. And a plain, pike-like spear, whose edge could be sharpened and strengthened with magic. Hector was circling the daemon, firing the gun at it with one hand. He didn't care if he used all of his magical power on on this fight. He could live without it until it replenished. And besides, he was a fantastic mage. His output was high, and he could use magic for a longer period of time than most, out of pure efficiency and knowledge of magic. He knew out to put his magic to good use to reduce how much he used at a time.

As he circled it, firing the explosive rounds at it's body, Hector approached closer and closer. He could see the girl, after blowing away the regenerating exterior of the creature. Hector holstered the gun as he rocketed closer, and he drew the spear, and ran forward, pushing his legs and magical ability as far as they could go. The girl was being wrapped by a regenerated maw attached to what appeared to be a solid stomach, it's teeth sinking into her within a second of Hector reaching the toothed stomach, and spearing it, ripping it from the main body and carrying himself, the girl, and the speared stomach all forward together.

Hector landed on his feet, the spear holding the small stomach, and the body of the girl, still caught on the teeth. Hector had expected the teeth to not have sunk so deep into her. He thought that he could resuscitate her. People died from more serious things, the bite should not have been this deep, he would have turned around and continued fighting if the girl had been dislodged from the stomach he ripped out and fell into the creature, he would have-

Hector interrupted his thoughts by dashing back to the vehicle, where, by now, the others had brought out more heavy equipment. Hector used his fire magic to burn the teeth from the stomach, so that they could be pulled out safely. Leaving the girl there, he turned around only after hearing a nearby gunship approach. One of the others must have called for backup. Hector left the girl on the ground, a short distance away from the vehicle as he saw an adult medic slide down a rope from the helicopter, once the air vehicle had gotten closer. Luckily, this was an adult who, while not a hunter, knew holy magic, and medical training.

When Hector turned around, he saw the creature. It was taking the form of the girl it sunk it's teeth into. Her face was there, but proportionate to the creature's body, which also began to morph to resemble something more human-shaped. There were no eyes, only eye sockets.

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Hector used his technomancy once he had picked up two small rocket launchers. The helicopter would provide heavy fire that would obliterate the creature, regardless of what Hector did, but he had to do this. His hatred would not permit otherwise.

He had used his technomancy to aim the guided rockets, once he fired both, into the empty eye sockets of the creature. One rocket in each. The explosion was loud, but fulfilling.

Hector's perception leaped forward again. He was holding the corpse of the girl in his arms as he walked to the grave he dug for her. After putting her in, he turned back, and retrieved her stuffed animal. Hector had only ever referred to it as a stuffed animal, but he saw that it was a rabbit. Only in that instance. He placed it into the grave with her, and turned around.

. . .

Hector opened his eyes, looking at the surroundings of his room. Books and computer equipment were on the shelves that were ever-present throughout the room. The smell of dust returned to his senses. He should really hire a maid to clean this place. Or do it himself. Hector got up and checked the time. It was 2:30 A.M.

Hector grabbed his head with both hands. He needed a mission. Badly. The nightmares were coming back. He knew that only a mission, only real combat would alleviate his shell shock. But, it looked like that would not occur, with his home-room teacher being dead. His schedule was to not go to classes on some days. He often scored perfectly on tests, and anything that he needed to do to not get kicked out of the academy. All he needed was to attend a few days of classes and missions, and his nightmares would be in check. Those few days were enough. He hated to admit it, to himself more than anyone, but he probably needed to fight on missions. That way, he could be at peace. Ironic, that he would likely only ever be at peace while fighting war.

What he needed was a distraction. He called up the delivery for coffee.

Hector had another solution to his problem: He would build something.

. . .

A few hours and seven cups of coffee later, Hector had finished his device. It was just a rifle, on the surface. Only on the surface. Each bullet was charged with magical energy from the gun that caused the rounds to glow brightly as they left the barrel, and burn through their targets. Or burn into them and remain there. The bullets could barely burn entirely through thicker targets. Once they lost their burning capability, they rested in the target like an ordinary bullet, albeit in a larger hole than the caliber of the bullet allowed. It would be useful for fighting larger creatures that were organic.

Hector frowned for a moment before pushing the memory out of his head. He decided to spend time reading a book until the morning.

When morning came, Hector received a message from a robot behind the door. As Hector answered the door, he feared that he had gone over the stipend he had been given. Seven cups of coffee, after all, was a bit much, even for him.

"Kazuhira, Hector, your home room has been changed to Second floor room, 2-2-1-3, you will now report to Superior Professor Asher Donovan during your mornings here at Anthemia, do you have any inquires?"

"No."

Hector shut the door, and got ready for the day. He would be in a homeroom run by a celebrity. Hector didn't consider this to be too special. He hardly kept up with celebrities. In fact, he would not be shocked if Professor Donovan was just as uncaring of his celebrity status as Hector was.

Hector got cleaned up, dressed, straightened his tie, and placed his knife, staff, and wand in his bag. He thought of bringing the rifle, but he decided against it. After all, it didn't have any level of automatic action. Each bullet had to be loaded individually, and the next bullet had to be brought into the firing chamber manually after each shot. Although Hector was familiar with the system's use, he was too lazy to pull a bolt after each shot. But still...

Hector left for the classroom, leaving his hat in his room. He avoided eye contact as much as possible. That was simply how he enjoyed to do things. Once he reached the room, he chose to try and limit his interaction with the girl at the door to a glance. He entered, and began to head for his desk, before he turned around. He forgot to say good morning to professor Donovan.

"Good morning, professor. I'm Hector Kazuhira. It's an honor."

And with that, Hector sat down in his seat, at the front of the classroom, by a window, waiting to see whether he may receive a new mission or not.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Asher Donovan Character Portrait: Maddox Forester Character Portrait: Noel Audrey Rose Character Portrait: Hector Kazuhira
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#, as written by Shiki29

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Asher Donovan Character Portrait: Maddox Forester Character Portrait: Noel Audrey Rose Character Portrait: Robin Damian Grey Character Portrait: Hector Kazuhira
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Sleeping in a garden of blue roses seemed to be an unusual thing to do. But not for Robin Grey, one of the more unique of scholars. He came from Anima like most scholars but refused to be on the valedictorian, or even listen to politics. His Father, an Airship Captain Who's Townhouse he willingly gave Damian after he became nineteen, on a rental fee, the amount of which changeable as the Captain saw fit, had instilled the boy with distrust of the leaders of Anima.

But that was life, and life never became free without some earning done. The young man slowly opened his tired eyes and yawned as he got up off his small garden room. He had overworked himself, yet again, growing his lovely blue roses. No one knows why, for possible spare money or for the enjoyment, or both, as he is seen trying to sell some for some extra money. Walking out of this room he passed his bedroom and then his workroom, where he toils and tinkers trying to make new creations. From New hunter weapons to small gadgets, to even the occasional children's trinket, he would try to make it.

Stuck in his routine, he would put together a field bag for possible missions to be prepared for. Inside consisted of the following, one combat suit made by Robert Damian Grey, Patent pending, Soulfire, his two handed broadsword given to him by his Mother and Father on his enrollment to the academy at 15, and a few emergency food rations for those required occasions. It was all routine for him. Any break in this routine would slightly result in a disastrous reaction on his part, albeit contained inward as he tries to not show anyone his suffering.

Speaking of breaks in his routine, it had been awhile since his home room teacher died, and he himself was not sent on a mission. This worried him. How would he face his father, whose portrait stares with one dark brown eye darting outward towards the front door, if he were kicked out? Then there was a knock at the door.

"I hope it's good news or at least a visitor." Robin stated to himself as he walked to the door and opened it. It was one of the Academy's Service Droids. Surprise, he was about to be told something about his current status as a student.

"Grey, Robert Damian, Your Homeroom has been changed to second floor room 2-2-1-3. You will now report to Superior Professor Asher Donovan, during your morning hours at Anthemia. Any inquiries?"

"No that'll be all. You may leave now." was all he could say to the robot as he hurried and grabbed his field bag and then his school bag before hurrying past the droid.

"Wait, The Asher Donovan? I heard that Famous Hunter was in town but never thought he was there to replace my last teacher. I liked that teacher. I wonder how Professor Donovan will be as a Teacher now?" Robin swallowed nervously at the thought of it.

Fifteen minutes later he was in the school heading for the schoolroom assigned to him. He walked past one of his other classmates, and gave a slight nervous nod in greeting, before walking into the classroom. Inside was another classmate, a fellow native of Anima, if he recalled, and a green haired exorcist. At the desk was the Professor and to him gave a small nervous wave.

"Morning Professor, Robert Damian Grey, at your service. Call me Robin, sir." He stated as he walked to a seat in the second row and set his bags under the desk before sitting down, waiting for his other classmates to arrive. Outward he tried his best to look calm but inside he was a nervous wreck. What would be in store for him, and what will be required of him. It was a big unknown to him with no sense of reality at the moment.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Asher Donovan Character Portrait: Maddox Forester Character Portrait: Noel Audrey Rose Character Portrait: Robin Damian Grey Character Portrait: Hector Kazuhira Character Portrait: NHP-S17 "Lorelei"
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"Report to the research center in the West Wing." That was what they'd told her to do. She'd felt her heart sinking at these commands, as she'd been hoping that she'd finally get the chance to live in an ordinary dormitory environment, instead of a whitewashed lab with cameras watching her every move and coat-wearing researchers staring at her all day, governing every second of every day of her life. When she wasn't practicing her powers in their strict training regimen, she was undergoing new tests to explore the limits of her abilities, and exceed them. It was an exhausting, merciless routine that left her utterly burned out at the end of every day, with no freedom to do any of the things she enjoyed. "Just deal with it," they had said dismissively. "We need to remain closeby to monitor your vitals at all times so you don't suffer the same fate as Subject 13. Too much money has been put into your creation for failure to be tolerated." Ah, Subject 13 - the Sword of Damocles they hung over her head at the slightest provocation. Having read the minds of her handlers, she had seen in full detail the gory fate suffered by her predecessor as her body crumbled and warped, bones snapping and turning to dust, eyes spewing blood as her skull collapsed in on itself as though an invisible hand had crumpled it like a wad of used tissue paper. That was the fate that awaited her, they said, if they were not hovering over her shoulder for 24 hours of every day of every week, monitoring her powers and "protecting" her from herself.

It was all hogwash, of course, mused the girl, brushing back some errant strands of her two-toned hair as she strode calmly through the main hall of her new school, the fluttering of her entourage's coat tails ringing in her ears as the scientists flanking her on either side continued leading the way to her new prison. The girl known as Lorelei had read enough of the minds of her handlers to know that her powers had not, nor would they ever advance to that volatile stage. But that didn't stop them from using that as an excuse, as though they thought she was too stupid to remember anything. Then again, in a way, maybe they were right about that. Who had she been, she wondered. Why had she ever agreed to sign her rights over to the researchers who now governed every aspect of her life? She was sure there had been some important reason, that she'd had no other choice. She just wished she could remember what that reason was. Maybe then, this tiring, ruthless tedium would be a little more bearable.


"Is that the NHP representative? She looks so young." Lorelei grimaced, gritting her teeth as the intrusive voice burrowed its way deep into her consciousness, countless others joining it as the students bustling about stopped to gawk at what they must have viewed as a new and interesting plaything.

"Look at her, just strolling in with her escorts like some sort of wannabe princess."

"I've seen her type before. She's probably a total bitch."

"'Next generation of humanity,' my ass. Just 'cause a lot of money's riding on her she waltzes in here like she owns the place. We worked hard to get where we are, you know. Some no-talent fake human who thinks she's all that just because her creators' connections can get her anywhere has no place here. Go back to Leviathan, you arrogant slut."

"WHO SAID THAT?!" Snapping at last, she stopped suddenly, rounding upon where she thought the voice had been coming from as her hands clenched into fists. Her hair began to flutter wildly on an eldritch breeze as her narrowed eyes glowed with their own internal azure light, darting from one face to the next as she tried to find the source of the voice that had so insulted her. How dare they claim that she had done nothing to get where she was. She'd been fighting to survive each and every day of her life! But more than just that... she wasn't a fake! She knew she had once been a person. She had been a Human like them! She must have been!

"What the hell? Who does she think she's talking to?"

"Is she alright in the head?"

"What a total psychopath."

"Oi, NHP goons! Keep your bitch on a leash!" Shouted a voice from amidst the crowd, which was echoed by several more a moment later as mocking laughter resounded all around her...




Lorelei's eyes snapped open where she lay. That dream again. Well, less of a dream than a memory, she supposed, sitting up in her bed, glancing across the room at the far wall, staring into the blank whiteness of the featureless room surrounding her, its otherwise blinding color reduced to a mere dull gray by the deadened lights of the laboratory bedroom. Ever since she'd arrived, things had been largely the same. People either avoided her out of fear of interacting with a "lunatic," or mocked her between one another, either unaware of or unconcerned by the fact that she knew full well what they were saying. The voices were always so loud, each and every one of them either mocking or pitying her. It just made her want to scream, to throw their insults back in the faces of the ones who so smugly mocked her. But it was pointless. The voices never stopped talking, never stopped insulting her - and she hated it.

She groaned, stretching her arms as she tried to shake off the stiffness that had overcome her body after spending the night atop the small white "bed" - more of a glorified, expandable couch, really - that provided her "room" - more of a glorified cell, really - with one of its two sole furnishings. Well, she supposed it could be worse. At least she had a bed, and that certainly beat spending her nights strapped to an operating table with electrodes probing her brain for the slightest hint of psychic activity, countless syringes full of sedatives ready and waiting to be pumped into her should her powers ever go out of control, all alone in the darkness with her body aching and her thoughts a mess. It was probably for the best that she couldn't remember much of that period of her life - although what she did recall nevertheless made up a good portion of her nightmares. She supposed she'd been lucky to simply dream she was being humiliated, rather than experimented on.

Crossing the tiny chamber in a few quick strides, her feet making naught but a faint shuffling against the frigid, infuriatingly pristine white floor, Lorelei idly swung open her wardrobe - the other bit of furnishing in her humble abode, a large, gaudy mahogany object which looked almost hilariously out of place against the monochromatic backdrop of the lab - and, reaching inside, withdrew her "uniform." Well, technically, just the black and cerulean tabard she wore and the tie that accompanied it were actually part of the apparel she'd been assigned by the NHP, while the long-sleeved black undershirt, matching opaque tights, and short, half-blouse, half-dress she wore were all her own personal additions to her attire. Placing all these things on her couch, she turned, slipping out of the flimsy, backless white nightgown she wore and casually throwing it across the room into a hamper in the side of the still-open wardrobe. Standing bare at the center of the small room, she turned, spreading her arms like a conductor, then sweeping them upward, the azure crystal that she'd taken out along with her uniform shattering outward into a large mass of floating water that washed over her in an instant, wrapping itself like a raiment around her and running over her form, precisely darting into each pore and clearing it in turn in what was equal parts morning practice and self-grooming ritual - although she had a sneaking suspicion that the only reason she'd been allowed to use her magic to clean herself was because the surveillance team enjoyed the free show they got over the cameras. Ensuring that her aura of water covered her most important parts from the angles at which her sixth sense helpfully reminded her the cameras were positioned in at all times, Lorelei concluded her little bath by purging all the water that still clung to her pale skin, running it up and through her hair, sending a two-toned cascade of raven and snowy tresses fluttering outward as though caught on a powerful breeze, before the water at last morphed back into its crystalline form, weaving itself back into her hair as she picked up the clothing she'd left on the couch. She was just about to set about getting dressed when the door snapped open with an audible hiss as the sealed environment of her room decompressed slightly - she still thought vacuum sealing the doors as a defense against any sort of germs contaminating her sleeping environment was a little excessive, but she supposed that her handlers couldn't afford their valuable test subject catching cold if they could help it.

Turning to face the intruder, Lorelei almost forgot to conceal her scowl as her eyes met those of Dr. Bessiger, the right hand man to the chairman of the NHP, and her personal handler and commanding officer. He was a tall man, and surprisingly young for an individual of his status and expertise. He possessed a heavily built, study physique that suggested he'd probably done his fair share of physical activities in the past, which, when combined with his formidable height, gave him a very imposing stature that most people couldn't help but be cowed by. His blonde hair was short, cut very methodically around his eyes and ears, and trimmed with the same obsessive zeal along the back of his neck, while his midnight blue eyes gazed coldly over the top of his spectacles. From the precise crease in each leg of his slacks to the pristine cerulean suit he wore, he was the perfect image of order. Lorelei forced back the bile that crept its way into her throat as this man, her eternal tormentor, stepped calmly into the room, his eyes sweeping over her naked body with all the interest one might have expected someone to show some small, insignificant animal's carcass. In his expression alone, he made it abundantly clear that he, unlike the watchers on the 24 hour cameras she lived with, didn't view her as a fellow Human being, even if only in the sense of a slave to be leered at. To him, she was nothing but a tool.

"Good," he said coldly. "You're awake."

"Did your parents ever teach you how to knock?" Lorelei wanted to say, but stifled herself out of fear, simply turning herself about, standing rigidly at attention, and placing her right hand over her heart in salute - a gesture which, fortunately, had the side effect of covering her sensitive regions with the clothing still draped over her arm. "Yes, master," She replied dutifully, her voice cold and stoic as she tried her hardest not to spit the hateful word by which she was forced to refer to him, her maker, and her unmaker should she ever set a single foot out of line. This was the man who controlled her very fate, and if she did not remember that and show him the utmost respect and humility, the things he could do to her or have done to her would make starving to death on the streets or being devoured by Daemons seem merciful by comparison.

Dr. Bessiger gave a self-assured half-smirk, stopping in front of her and reaching out a hand, placing two fingers upon her chin and slowly, forcefully raising it by several degrees. Lorelei winced as she fought back the impulse to lash out at him, to release her powers and fling him away, his chilling, powerful touch sending chills down her spine of a sort far colder than the brisk air of the lab against her bare flesh. Her azure eyes reluctantly rose as she looked up - or perhaps the matter of note was that he had deigned to look down on her? - meeting the midnight blue gaze of her handler, her creator, her owner, the man who held everything she was in the palm of his hand, and who would shape her, like a dollmaker might give form to a doll, in whatever way he pleased. Lorelei hated those eyes, loathed them with every fiber of her being, despised the way they seemed to pierce like daggers through her, dismantling her and laying her bare before them, her individuality stripped away by their cold awareness as her very self was reduced to mere data, reflected in the eyes of that terrifying man who held absolute power over everything she had been, was, and ever would be.

"Look me in the eye when you speak," Ordered the doctor, his voice that of a disapproving father to a petulant child, commanding the respect of his rude and arrogant creation.

"Yes, master," Lorelei repeated obediently, her words utterly void of any of the feelings or emotions whirling through her terrified brain, containing nothing save the blind respect and acceptance that the doctor demanded. She was barely able to muster even this sort of empty, mechanical speech, her breath nearly choking in her throat as she spoke the words she so hated for a second time, her eyes unable to escape the gaze of those horrible blue orbs that dominated her vision, staring down at her with soul-crushing intensity. Finally, as suddenly as he had forced her to meet it, the man broke off his gaze, giving a self-satisfactory nod to himself as he released her chin and turned, walking casually to the opposite edge of the room, shutting the still-open door of her wardrobe as he passed it out of obsessive-compulsive fervor. Lorelei gave a silent gasp of relief, sucking in the breath that had been stolen from her when those eyes had met her own.

He had to be there for a reason. The doctor never interacted with her so personally unless he had something he wanted her to do. The sooner she could figure out what exactly that thing was, the sooner he might leave her in peace, the sooner she might escape from his hateful presence, even if only temporarily. And so, her words still devoid of any feeling save obedience, she spoke.

"What is it that you wish of this unit, master? I will obey," She said humbly, making sure to avoid speaking with any pretense of humanity before this man who refused to accept her as such.

"Well, aren't we eager?" Laughed the doctor quietly. There was nothing outwardly malevolent about his laugh. Unlike the cackling villains in cliche films, his mirth was expressed in a thoroughly ordinary, perhaps even understated manner. But to Lorelei, that only made it all the more terrifying, as it presented the possibility that this man was really nothing but an ordinary person doing his job - and that just so happened to entail commanding her very destiny, and crushing it beneath his boot heel if such measures became necessary. "In that case, you'll be pleased to know I have good news. You've finally been reassigned."

The experiment's eyes widened as her mind processed these words. Reassigned? Her last teacher had been killed practically on the same day he'd been charged with her instruction. As a result, she'd ended up spending most of her time in the lab running tests like always, waiting for the opportunity to be assigned once more to a group so as to improve her skills and run missions. She'd never actually been part of a major operation, nor had she participated in actual combat against a wild, powerful Daemon. The closest she came to having real battle experience was fighting some of the captured Daemons brought to Leviathan for training purposes - although she supposed any battle where you ran a risk of dying couldn't exactly be called anything but "real." If she was finally being reassigned, then that would mean her first chance to actually perform the duties for which she'd been created, and to destroy the Daemonic invaders. Forgetting her fear for a moment, she gave a smile of surprise - yet this soon collapsed when she remembered what else being assigned to a group would mean - she'd have to work with her peers, most of whom at the very least knew her, and, more often than not, either thought she was insane or simply despised her for the manner in which she'd entered the academy. Her expression of delight swiftly turned to a grimace. Still, she supposed, it would be better than staying here in the lab, where this man had absolute command of every aspect of her life. Besides, she'd long since learned to stop hoping for anything she knew she wouldn't get, so there was no sense in getting worked up over it. She would simply fulfill her duties. Then, at least, she would be blameless, even in the eyes of the peers who so looked down on her. "When shall I begin?" She asked quietly.

"Today, in one hour. You'll be in class designation 2-2-1-3, on the second floor. Hurry up and make yourself presentable, then report to your new teacher. That is all." Rounding on the door, the Doctor left just as suddenly as he had entered, and her room sealed itself once again in his wake. She sighed, too flustered by her fear, confusion, anxiety, and anticipation to care about the cameras watching her as she set about dressing herself, slipping into the sleeves of her undershirt and blouse before fastening on her tabard and pulling on her customary pair of tights. Brushing back her hair, she snapped shut the bindings on her shoes, and turned for the door. This was it. This was the day she'd been waiting for.

She opened the door, and stepped outside.




The school was as noisy as it had been the last time she'd been outside of the lab - about a month ago when she'd finally been given some free time, although what she'd been expected to do with this break, exactly, she still wasn't sure - but she shut it out as best she could, blasting loud pop-rock from some no-name artist in her headphones as she walked briskly through the halls of the academy, trying to find her way to her new classroom. Unfortunately, given that she couldn't exactly read, checking a map was out of the question, and she didn't want to take off her headset to read somebody's mind for directions for fear of being bombarded by the thoughts of those around her. The last thing she needed was to make another scene on the first day of her new start. There couldn't be too many classrooms in the first hallway of the second sector of floor 2, so finding the third one shouldn't have been too difficult - if she could just find sector 2. She was so caught up in her frustration that she almost missed the sign overhead with some text she couldn't understand and a 2 on it. Huh. That was easier than she had expected, she mused, turning off her music now that the crowds had thinned somewhat and placing her headphones back around her neck. A short while of searching later, and she found herself in the classroom - and she wasn't alone. Already, several other students were present, as was a slightly unkempt man who was evidently their teacher. Walking purposefully up to the man at the desk, she supposed it would be best to make a good impression, if only to avoid the scolding that Dr. Bessiger would invariably give her if she failed to. So, acting as she had been taught, she placed her right hand over her heart in salute, standing rigidly at attention as she reported her presence and gave a brief introduction.

"Subject 17 of the New Human Project, reporting for duty. This unit's designation is 'Lorelei.' This unit will follow all instructions provided, sir," She said quietly, her voice and expression a blank, unfeeling void as she had been taught. Her introduction completed, she gave a rigid bow, and then swiftly moved away to the far corner of the room, finding an empty desk far from the other occupants of the area, so that the voices of their minds might not reach her so easily. Staring into space, she tried her best to just ignore whatever snippets of their "voices" she did hear, not wanting to know what they already must have thought of her for fear that it might cause her to snap and forgo the disciplined exterior she had practiced for so long...

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Asher Donovan Character Portrait: Maddox Forester Character Portrait: Noel Audrey Rose Character Portrait: Robin Damian Grey Character Portrait: Caesar Minamoto Character Portrait: Hector Kazuhira Character Portrait: NHP-S17 "Lorelei"
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#, as written by MeshET
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The bright early morning ray shone through the window, lighting up the neat and tidy room. Constantly maintained by its owner, the room was the perfect definition of a discipline student. Already awake like usual, Caesar was taking his time spreading over his bed sheets in a tidy manner. It was a rather easy task for him, especially since he dedicated himself to cleaning up his room and possessions as spotless as possible, what with his inability to gain advantages somewhere else. This was the least he could do to prove that he wasn't at all useless.

"You're quick as always aren't you, Caesar? I'm still very much tired here." A familiar voice rang inside his head. The same rough and commanding tone of voice that only he himself can hear. Similar to a very close brother, but their bond was something even blood-related siblings could not even possess. Nefarius, the Fae who became Caesar's only relative, had been with him for the past 10 years, along with another. He was in the form of an orange sheathed katana, resting itself next to the desk. At the hilt, there was a small circle that took up most of the hilt and a little hump protruding over the entire length of the sword.

"You are always tired, Nefarius. It's not as if you did something of great mention." Another voice vibrated inside his head. This time, a gentle and relieving one. The eldest among the trio, she is the one keeping the two brothers in check. Typically Nefarius as he is always the one feeding dangerous ideas to Caesar. Nexus was the Fae who found Caesar 10 years ago along with Nefarius. As the kind elder sister, she 'took in' Caesar and made him their youngest brother. Ever since, they had been together for as long as Caesar's memories can bring him to. Nexus now resides in the form of a dual pistol, both having black bodies and white slides.

A loud roar came from Nefarius, who objected at Nexus' claim. "What?! Of course not! Everyday, I keep my guard up to ensure Caesar is ready for a battle against those daemons anytime. There isn't a time where I failed to do it." If Nefarius had a physical body, this should be where he's be puffing out his chest proudly. "Well, thank you then, brother. I'm sure some daemons would come storming into an academy specifically built for training Hunters. Oh and let's not forget that we have a famous Hunter with the academy today." Nefarius gulped after hearing this. It seems like his objection was deflected. Caesar giggled a little and stepped up, stopping the argument. "Well, today would just be like any day. Let's do our best." Just as he said that, there was a knock on the door.

Caesar went ahead to open the door and found an android standing in front. Its metallic eyes stared right into Caesar as their difference in height made it looked like Caesar was getting bullied by an upper class-robot.

"Minamoto, Caesar. Your Homeroom has been changed to second floor room 2-2-1-3. You will now report to Superior Professor Asher Donovan, during your morning hours at Anthemia. Any inquiries?" The robot announced. Its usual AI voice carried a sort of friendliness to it. The first time Caesar met with these androids, it literally made him jumped with surprise. Slowly however, he got used to it and eventually found it rather friendly as he tries to make conversations with it. Only to be disappointed that they aren't programmed to do so.

Shaking his head as a reply, he slowly closed the door as the android returned to its work. He returned to the desk and put on his equipment, a long coat that goes to the bottom of his heels and and long black scarf. "Speak of the devil. Let us move." Nexus said as she was strapped on the waist together with Nefarius. "It's about time we get some action! I can't wait to fight something again!" Suddenly gaining an intense amount of energy, Nefarius sprung back to life and was ready to face anything. Nodding to their claims, Caesar grabbed his sling bag and exited his room, locking it before he left.

His room is one the first floor, towards the opposite end of where his destination would be, so it took him some time to get to room 2-2-1-3. As he approaches closer and closer to the room, he saw a lady standing beside the door, looking out through the window. She was well-dressed and had a matured sense around her. But on her face, it was as if she missed something that she recently lost. Caesar didn't want to intrude her private moments, so before going into the room, he bowed a little to show respect to whoever she might be.

Inside was a few of his classmate already arrived before him. Unable to remember most of them, Caesar struggled to dig his past memories to reconfirm their names and faces but no results came out. But he didn't give up. If he felt familiar to even one of them, he want to remember who they were and perhaps strike up a conversation with it later. However, he just couldn't do it. Eventually, he snapped back to reality as he saw the professor sitting behind the desk. He suddenly remembered that he had been standing there for more than 10 seconds, so he quickly whimpered away to a corner of the room and took his seat, hiding his embarrassment behind his bag.

That was where he truly thanked the existence of bags. He thought that the bags were there to hide and cover his shame. Then again, probably not.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Asher Donovan Character Portrait: Maddox Forester Character Portrait: Noel Audrey Rose Character Portrait: Robin Damian Grey Character Portrait: Caesar Minamoto Character Portrait: Hector Kazuhira Character Portrait: NHP-S17 "Lorelei" Character Portrait: Willow Petra Uskose
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#, as written by toajojo
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Willow slipped out of her bed early as she did every morning. She knew there was no reason for her to get up so early in the mornings, especially since at the moment, she had no homeroom class to attend. She could not help herself though. It was such a well ingrained habit from her childhood home in Terrasis that she did not even bother with an alarm. Her mind was it's own clock. Always making sure she rose before the sun was able to greet the east horizon and went to bed before the midnight darkness consumed the skies. Her grandparents were firm believers in in the old adage, Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise.

Being the stickler for routine that she was, Willow began her morning rituals. She moved through the motions systematically. Tucking in the edges of the comforter, she tidied up her small futon tucked away in the corner of her decent sized bedroom. Leaning down to the well worn blanket, she took a deep breathe. Searching for a hint of her home's scent. Nothing. She let out her breathe and pushed herself up from her knees. She was not totally sure why she tried. Their scent had long since faded away.

Willow raised her slender arms above her head and stretched. Throwing her head back she let out a wide-mouthed yawn. With a roll of her shoulders, she continued with her schedule. Leaving her bedroom, she made her way into her small living room. Behind her modern grey suede couch on the opposite side from her sleek television, she kneeled once more on the wooden flooring. There, was the largest window in her entire dorm. It was where she had her indoor shrine in the midst of her small window garden.

Running her hands down her thighs she smoothed out her silk lavender night gown and then placed them flat on the cold wood. The tips of her index and middle touching as well as her thumbs. Dutifully she bent over in a most humble bow. Her forehead on her fingers and her nose to the ground. In a quiet, gentle whisper she began her daily prayers. Speaking fluently in the holy tongue of her religion.

"Lel twa jomenti al...Fo letimu el tsah tjumeni jah hun mu...
...Lel twa sjah lenti al fo letico...Ol tah lementi al tsah jutenija.
Al fo letia leja al tash...A la rey yo, ya.
Lyttie..Tu-liatua ruecies Systina et-Freyia.
Renies teal dear siesty litea...Rushes."


That particular prayer was just a short recital of words. There were much longer ones that she knew, but she chose to stick with this one usually. Just to keep her mornings quick and efficient. It covered the basics. Thanking the one who reigned sovereign over the planet and it's inhabitants for giving her life and protecting her. Apologizing for any malevolent intent that might have seeped into her heart before and asking him to cleanse her. Promising to do her best to bring others to the light. All that religious stuff.

Rising from her subservient position, she got to her feet and examined the plants in her garden. With butterfly-like touches she ran her fingers over their leaves, stems and flowers. Cataloging the progress they were making. Smiling, she spoke to them softly. Whispering sweet nothings to them as if they were her significant other. In a way, they were. Willow regarded all plants and animals as beings with close attachments to her. They all had a life force in them keeping them going day after day, for all she knew they could feel the same way about her.

With one hand, she grasped her small trimmers and set to work. Some of their vines were wrapping around her small alter. That could not do. With one Snip and another, she put the blades down and admired her handiwork. Reaching for her watering can, she carefully and loving gave each a drink. Making sure not to drown them or give them too little. Willow glanced out of the window and spotted the sun just beginning to rise. Giving the sky a strange, but beautiful mish-mash of colors. She was right on time. The best time to water your plants was right before the sun rose. It stimulated faster root growth. Well, of course she did not need to go through that whole process like others might. After all she was quite skilled in the field of nature magick. With a single stroke she could make all of these flowers bloom even if they were not in season. But she did not. One, it was against the rules to use ones magick if not in critical need of them or given specific permission. And two, she enjoyed watching them grow on their own. With her gently nourishing them, nudging them forward like a mother. It gave her a sense of pride when they finally bloomed. Putting her watering can down, she gave them one last smile before getting ready for the day.

Getting ready always took her the most amount of time. Stepping into her spacious bathroom, Willow turned on the shower and let her gown fall from her body. Getting inside, she felt her muscles relax as the heated water pelted her bare skin. Quickly grabbing her soap, she began to cleanse herself. Starting with the top of her head and hair, she made her way down. Soon enough, she was rinsed and out, wrapped snugly in a towel. One for her body and another for her hair. She slipped into one of her usual simple dresses and wiggled her feet into some tall lace-up shoes. Pulling her towel from her head she let her pale lavender hair fall to her knees. As she braided it tightly, she pondered if she should get it hair cut. Biting her lip, she shook her head to herself. No. She was too sentimental for that.

Rummaging through her compact refrigerator, she found the leftovers she saved from the night before. Throwing it in the microwave for a minute she said a quick prayer over the food and sat down to eat. It was a small meal. A glass of water, two biscuits with a honey spread, but it was filling nonetheless. When she was finished, she cleaned her already spotless kitchen and prepared to go out for the day. She needed to find something to do before her afternoon classes. Willow slid her small ocarina onto her neck, her wooden staff onto her back, and messanger bag over her shoulder.

Opening the door to enter the hallway she released a startled yelp. With it's hand poised to knock on her door was an AI. Willow placed a hand on her chest and calmed her breathing as the AI stared at her. Seemingly waiting for her to get her bearings together. She cocked her head to the side and smiled at it, a signal for it to continue on with what is was programmed to do.

"Uskose, Willow. Your Homeroom has been changed to second floor room 2-2-1-3. You will now report to Superior Professor Asher Donovan, during your morning hours at Anthemia. Any inquiries?" The artificial intelligence recited and waited for her response. Willow mulled it over before shaking her head. She was returning to class!

"No. Thank you, very much for telling me though." She replied politely. Giving the robot a shallow bow. It turned on it's heel and left her without another word. Willow, could hardly contain herself. Shutting her door behind her she sprinted down the hallways and staircases. Eager to get to her new homeroom. So it seemed that she was not being dismissed from the academy and now, she even had The Asher Donovan as her teacher.

Reaching room 2213, Willow hesitated for a moment. Her nerves chose to get the better of her right then. Curses. Taking a deep breathe, she steeled herself and pulled her immensely long and thick braid over her shoulder. Grasping the handle to the door, she twisted and pushed forward. Walking into the room gracefully, she showed no hint of her nerves. Stopping in front Mr. Donovan's desk, she bowed respectfully low. The end of her braid touched the ground and she rose. With a sweet smile, she introduced herself. "Willow Uskose. I am honored to make your acquaintance Professor Donovan."

She turned and quickly headed to a seat. Choosing one in the front row, she slid into it. Putting her satchel and staff on the floor beside her. Deciding it could not hurt to be friendly, she twisted her back and looked behind her at the boy who she was seated directly in front of (Robin) and flashed him a small, but bright smile. "Morning."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Asher Donovan Character Portrait: Maddox Forester Character Portrait: Noel Audrey Rose Character Portrait: Robin Damian Grey Character Portrait: Caesar Minamoto Character Portrait: Hector Kazuhira Character Portrait: NHP-S17 "Lorelei" Character Portrait: Willow Petra Uskose Character Portrait: Kenji Yamanaka
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#, as written by Ahri
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Kenji lay sleeping on a park bench as his familiar poked at his face in an attempt to wake him up. Every once in a while a person would casually stroll on by giving strange glances towards the guy sleeping on a park bench being poked at by what seemed as a cat. This was not unlike Kenji though as he had to live this sort of a life style because of his grades. School has never been his strong suit and studying was a daemon all of it's own to fight for Kenji, and considering he never liked to study it never got easier. That combined with his lack of will to pay attention school what was not what he expected, his vision was a battle of strength and will the person who was strongest rained supreme. Sadly this was not so, intelligence and tactical styles with a mix of precision and strength all combined into making a good student. Only having half of that has kept him pretty far from the title of valedictorian.

Not to mention it also made so the fact he earned an almost minimum when it came to allowance. For a while he had been rooming with a somewhat friend it was good, but having to keep his tail a secret when rooming with someone is hard. On top of the fact that he was kicked out yesterday because Kenji has a habit of leaving a messy room and when you are told to pick up and your answer is "uh..ya...on day." While reading book you can get into a situation that you may not have wanted. That is exactly where Kenji is, reduced to sleeping on a park bench, but he has saved up a bit of money since rent was free and he ate the bare minimum keeping good track of money and what he was spending it on.

After a solid ten minutes of his face being prodded by his familiar he finally awake. Looking around he had a stupidly happy smile on his face, but after noticing where he was and feeling his back his expression turned into a part silly sad face. Standing up and having a good stretch with his spine cracking with ounce of pressure put on it. "Note to self find a place to stay and soon. Bench's equal bad for your back it seems." He said while looking at Riku.

Riku hopped onto Kenji's shoulder and they started to set off towards the city to get some food. Twenty-minutes later after a quick bite and almost getting into a brawl, which is the usual for Kenji, he returned to the bench which had turned into a semi-home for now. Just as he dropped down on to the bench and closed his eyes getting ready to go take a nap a voice was heard right over his shoulder. With a glance back an android was standing there ready to say something. "Kenji Yamanaka, your home room has been changed to Second floor room, 2-2-1-3, you will now report to Superior Professor Asher Donovan during your mornings here at Anthemia, do you have any inquires?"

Kenji looked back at the android with a puzzled face . This was either really good because now he wouldn't have to worry about being dropped from the school. Or it could be bad since this means a return to the curse of having to study or for him not studying. Snapping back to reality he turns from the android throwing up a hand as he walks away towards the school. "No, I'm fine go back to whatever you were doing." He said as if it was more of a annoyance then anything else. As he walked he tried to think of the name Asher Donovan, Kenji could have sworn he had heard it somewhere, but he couldn't recall because most likely he wasn't really paying attention so he must not be that important.

His habit of picking fights had seemed to not diminish at all almost getting into a couple brawls just on his way to school. When he got to school he noticed his nickname The Blue Devil or Monster didn't seem to go away even without him causing trouble on campus itself for sometime, though that was bound to change soon enough since he couldn't be away from fights for long. Reaching the school and it seemed as if he would finally get back to clearing this world of its evils be it the daemons or humans who would act as daemons. It didn't matter to him as long as in the end this world was a better place Kenji has no problems becoming the monster needed to accomplish that, just as he had done once before. The class room was finally in sight which hopefully he wasn't going to be the first, but not last either as he is usually late this time he may have gotten lucky because of the bench and it being a poor choice of comfort. Opening the door to the room it seemed as if their were already quite a few people inside. It didn't seem as if he was late which might be something that should be praised as his first and last time.

All his excitement to get back to school to hunt down some daemons seemed to fade the second he opened the door realizing that normal school also had a factor. He sighed looking at the new teacher with an un-entertained expression. "Hey, I'm Kenji." He said with as little effort as needed. Giving a half wave along with it he dragged himself towards the back of the class room taking a seat there. Taking his wrapped swords off his back and placing it against his desk he sat down placing his arms on the desk and resting his head on them. Still keeping his head up though so that he could check out his other classmates trying to pick out who he was going to avoid, and checking out the girls picking out the cutest. His secret technique of storing all his energy during class by putting in almost no effort so that he would have double outside and during fights was now an official go.




Characters Present

Character Portrait: Asher Donovan Character Portrait: Maddox Forester Character Portrait: Noel Audrey Rose Character Portrait: Robin Damian Grey Character Portrait: Caesar Minamoto Character Portrait: Hector Kazuhira Character Portrait: NHP-S17 "Lorelei" Character Portrait: Willow Petra Uskose Character Portrait: Kenji Yamanaka Character Portrait: Joseph Rex
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#, as written by Zalgo
Joe & Frank


Crash! Crunch! "2-2-'BZZZRT-1-3" Zap, Crunch.

A cacophony of metallic crushing and electronic buzzing sounds just barely reached Joe through the haze of his sleep. He slowly opened his eyes, the sunlight burning as it met with his vision. After a few moments Joe found himself where he last left himself going to bed last night: A bench out on school grounds, Frank wrapped around his area. His summon, a rather significantly large trash dragon named Frank, had just swatted a robot who had made the time old mistake of walking up to a dragon without loudly announcing itself. Then again, to the untrained optic sensor his dragon looked like little more than a trash heap when prone.

"Ah heck. They're probably gonna charge me fer that." Joe shrugged. "Ah well, don't matter none too much.
Never had much a need for money. Just means I'm gonna need ta find some meals fer a bit." Lazily he picked himself off the bench and stretched. The remains of the robot were pulled into Frank. The pieces that weren't completely crushed into slag in the first hit were ground into pure junk by the shifting wood, steel and stone that comprised of it's body. Raising it's head Frank was about the size of a small warehouse in both height at the shoulder and length from nose to tail tip. With the robot slag pulled into it it was now at the cusp of it's maximum mass limit. It was not an inconsiderable creature but Joe felt it could use to be bigger, something he hoped he would figure out how to do at this school.


Despite having had barely woken up Joe recalled the numbers the flattened robot blurted out in it's last moments.
"That probably somethin' important. I'd better do some sleuthin'." He concluded, walking on his way to find something corresponding with the numbers. Given their arrangement they seemed to relate closest to room numbers. Either that or it was a phone number it didn't get to finish. He'd find out soon enough.

Joe hadn't had any missions since the last teacher died and quite frankly he didn't mind all that much. The free time gave him plenty of peace and quiet but there was always those rumors that buzzed around about inactive students getting booted. He wasn't really scared of that but getting tossed out would be inconvenient. He wanted to find out as much as he needed to know from this place before ditching it like his last place and taking to the road.


When he got to the entrance to the building he looked up to Frank. The dragon's face was expressionless as it was just a bunch of garbage arranged into a dragon shaped head but he could still tell it wasn't happy with him going somewhere it couldn't fit. It was just a knack Joe picked up after all these years of living with Frank.
"Look buddy, I swear I'm not going to be too far out of reach. I think the room probably has a window you can look through.
I'll call 'ya over when I find it alright? Try not to wreck anything alright?" He reassured Frank. The dragon sat down and simply waited, a clear enough signal for Joe to go through with it.

Eventually he found the door with the number the robot had blurted out in it's death throes.
"Well, hope I ain't wrong here." He spoke mostly to himself as he pushed his way in through the door. Inside was a rather eclectic gathering of the more unusual students. There was a teacher he didn't really know anything about and well, that was about it. He'd of cared more about the details but he didn't think it was of much importance. Simply striding through he went over and opened a window, sticking his head out. He gave a loud sharp whistle which rang out across the general area.
"Yo, Frank! I found the right place!" He yelled out hoping Frank heard him. He turned away from the window a moment over towards the teacher. "This is the right place, right?" He asked, hoping he didn't just walk into a classroom uninvited and disrupt everything. That would be mildly embarrassing, nothing too bad for him though. The biggest nuisance would be having to explain himself.

The whole room shuddered with each step of it's large feet. It was a gentle rumble at first but as it got closer the room shook quite a bit as Frank parked himself right outside the window, causing one last big thud as it sat. Though it didn't seem to have eyes of any sort it's head was looking in through the windows at Joe. "See Frank, I told 'ya it was gonna be fine." He told Frank through the open window. It's blank emotionless mass of trash that he calls a head didn't change at all but Joe was sure it got the idea. With that said Joe grabbed the seat closest to the window, always welcoming a chance to sit and rest whenever he gets the chance.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Asher Donovan Character Portrait: Maddox Forester Character Portrait: Noel Audrey Rose Character Portrait: Robin Damian Grey Character Portrait: Caesar Minamoto Character Portrait: Hector Kazuhira Character Portrait: Lev Keisting Character Portrait: NHP-S17 "Lorelei" Character Portrait: Willow Petra Uskose Character Portrait: Kenji Yamanaka Character Portrait: Joseph Rex
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#, as written by YuumanN
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For the first time in a while, the thought came to him again.

“Well, these things happen.”

Months had passed, and Lev still couldn’t think of anything more than that apathetic phrase when the image of their former teacher, killed in a mission, appeared in his mind. Admittedly, this somewhat worried him.

It had been the first time in his life a person close to him – at least in the sense that they saw each other almost every day – was taken by Daemons and, contrary to what he had initially expected, it didn’t affect him that much. It did take him by surprise when he heard the news and even got him wondering how such a tragedy could have occurred to a Huntress he had always perceived as careful and reliable, but minutes later he was more preoccupied with how he would face his numerous fees with the limited budget he received from the Academy and the following weekend he hadn’t spared a single second of thought on her.

He didn’t appear to be the only one though. Fellow Hunters seemed at a loss during the week when she died, wondering if the incident had occurred due to a malfunction, a mistake or an irregularity of a different sort, but eventually people ran out of curiosity on the matter and it was as good as settled. It made sense; they were at war and even if they didn’t have access to the exact numbers as they were still in training, students in the Academy could figure out many men and women died each day. Daemons didn’t rest or mourn, and there was no noticeable sign that their numbers were decreasing, so how could humanity spare time and resources for those who had fallen?

Still, this woman had shared wisdom with those who would become the next generation of humanity’s vanguard against Daemons to ensure its survival in the future, and in her spare time joined Hunters in the field to fight like a soldier. There was no way that such a lifestyle had left her any time to form a family of her own or pursue any ambitions. Almost her entire life, from late childhood to death, had been sacrificed to fight for humanity, which was more than the overwhelming majority of people could say, and still it was most likely that a decade from now no one would remember her face or even her name. No; that was a privilege that was saved only for those who knew when to die, made beautiful speeches to earn a cozy seat in one of the major cities’ government or, even better, were willing to print their faces on pop magazines so that a new generation of teenagers could grow up with propaganda-fueled dreams of unrealistic glory.

But
“these things happen” indeed.

Maybe what bothered Lev was the acknowledgement that, as selfish and despicable as this society that ignored the genuine devotion of a brave woman resulted to him, he would still prove exactly the same as them.

Perhaps, despite his attempts to convince himself that he was fighting for mankind and not for himself, he was scared of facing the fact that his efforts would still make him no more than a nameless soldier in history at most.

Or maybe he had too much free time to spend thinking on pointless trails of thought.


“OI! OI LEV! FUCKING OI!”

Suddenly, the surrounding background he had been pushing back in his mind brusquely recovered its colors and life; the sound of heavy machinery at work and raspy voices of middle-aged men and women screaming obscenities at each other echoed in his eardrums again and demanded his attention, prompting him to wonder how he had been able to space out in the first place. He sought the voice that called his name through the framed visor of his face shield and soon spotted a short-haired and generously bearded man he recognized as Gene, one of the more experienced workers and student supervisors.

“Sum n’droid ‘ere s’got a messige for ya or sumthin’. It’s in da way, so go lissen to it so it leaves awlready!” he said, not bothering to hide his irritation or the fact that he was in a hurry.

Lev freed one of his hands to signal an ‘ok’ to his boss, who stormed off expressing his distaste for androids in mumbles to no one in particular, making an exemplary use of the word ‘fuck’ and all its known variables plus a few others. Good guy though. Occasionally.

Putting his tools away, Lev made his way to the entrance of the Academy’s arsenal, where he had been spending all his mornings for the past few months. All Scholar students in their last obligatory year were required to complete a certain amount of hours of actual work in their discipline, among other tasks, and seeing as he already visited the arsenal with some frequency, it was no surprise he ended up resorting to it to complete his academic duties. He had actually fulfilled this requirement some time ago, but since he had no morning classes ever since the death of his home room teacher, he preferred spending his time there helping with the avalanche of work the mechanics found themselves underneath of due to the increased frequency of Hunter deployments.

Every single day there were new jeeps, tanks, boats, swords, guns, androids and ammunition to repair, upgrade or manufacture, and they were always running late. Able hands were never missing and there were no restrictions on going over the minimum service hours, so Lev’s presence was always welcomed and appreciated. Besides, this way he got to see all sorts of newly developed machinery, even if he wasn’t allowed to actually work on the most expensive ones.

He opened the entrance door and, sure enough, an android waited with infinite patience on the other side. Standing uncomfortably close to Lev, it seemed to instantly identify him.

“Keisting, Lev. Your home room has been changed to second floor room, 2-2-1-3, you will now report to Superior Professor Asher Donovan during your mornings here at Anthemia. Do you have any inquiries?”

Expecting a less relevant message, it took the young man a few seconds to process what he had heard. He checked his ancient wristwatch and briefly wondered why he would be notified in such a short notice of his new schedule, but figured his intercom, which he had left in the locker room, would be filled with messages of failed attempts to communicate with him a while ago.

“No, you can go.” He finally answered the android’s question as he remembered it was still waiting for his response without the slightest sign of apprehension, and instantly closed the door on it. The last ad Lev had heard consisted on a jingle with choreography included, which only made him feel ashamed on the robot’s behalf. Besides, some of the mechanics in the armory had taken to vandalizing the robots as a way to express their discontent when they showed up merely to promote their commercial, and if any of them saw it, it could only mean trouble for everyone.

Having no time to waste, Lev broke the news to Gene and left for his dorm, where he had to fight a mountain of broken machinery and spare parts to get to the bathroom. He showered, changed into his uniform and saved the disassembled parts of his firearms into a wheeled bag in record time, taking special care with his ‘Stingray’ sniper rifle.

Even with the heavy additional weight, he managed to keep a good pace and found his new classroom in only a few minutes despite being more concentrated on trying to remember where he had heard the name Asher Donovan rather than keeping track of where he was going. Before entering, he stationed and chained the large bag outside the class, seeing as it was too large to keep inside without it inconveniencing people. Though he did notice Noel appreciating the view through a window with a distinct air of nostalgia around her, he had no words of encouragement to share, and decided to go straight into the unknown.

As he stepped into the classroom and took in the image of his new teacher and classmates, he waited a few seconds to gather his thoughts. He finally remembered why Asher’s name seemed so familiar, and recognized his face from the cover of one of those magazines some girls around the Academy always seemed to have at hand. Although he was sure his new professor was a reliable and capable Hunter, the idea of learning under a pop idol didn’t fascinate him, and for many reasons. He then turned his attention towards the students; most of them seemed to be busy doing their own things, one of them was asleep, and there was a dragon sculpture made of trash peeking through a window… good vibrations all ‘round.

“Mornin’” he greeted the room with an unenthusiastic tone, briefly noticing in terror that Gene's dialect was slowly rubbing off on him. “Lev Keisting.” he added when he noticed the checklist on top of Asher’s desk.

With nothing to add or comment, Lev scanned the room for a free seat and headed straight for the last row. The only ones close to being neighbors to him were Caesar and Lorelei, both having already taken the corners of the classroom and each sitting a distance of two or three desks away from him. Having nothing more to do, he sat back and patiently waited for the rest of the students to show up.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Asher Donovan Character Portrait: Maddox Forester Character Portrait: Noel Audrey Rose Character Portrait: Robin Damian Grey Character Portrait: Caesar Minamoto Character Portrait: Hector Kazuhira Character Portrait: Lev Keisting Character Portrait: Nico Erenheart Character Portrait: NHP-S17 "Lorelei" Character Portrait: Willow Petra Uskose Character Portrait: Kenji Yamanaka Character Portrait: Joseph Rex Character Portrait: Amurel Sarcadia
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"You really have no clue how to be patient, do you."

Nico responded to the voice of her teacher with an exaggerated moan as she flopped belly-first onto her bed that lay against the wall of her dorm room. Since coming to the academy a year ago, she'd only spoke with the man who took her in on certain occasions. Or rather, when she had something she needed to complain about. This particular occasion centered around the three months that she'd gone without a single mission, despite having confronted the moderates multiple times.

"Three months, Master Mako. THREE! How much longer does she have to be dead before they start giving me my well-deserved missions?"

"You shouldn't say that about your late teacher. It's a sad thing to have lost a fellow hunter."

Nico turned onto her side and lifted her head, resting it on her palm with her elbow pressed against her pillow. Mako's face was displayed on a screen that floated above Nico's desk placed beside the bed, the window above it just barely letting the weak light of sunrise shine through the curtains that hung over it. Her teacher was a young looking man, despite being in his late thirties, with bright green eyes and sandy hair that had grown long enough to be pulled back into a loose pony tail. Behind him was the desert home in Ura that Nico had lived in for four years.

"I guess her class wasn't too boring, but I don't see much of a loss here."

Mako gave a sigh, knowing that no matter what he might say, Nico would just brush it off. She wasn't the type to be effected heavily by the death of others. Even if it were someone close to her, she'd be able to move on quite easily. Being broken up over every loss would just hold her back as a hunter anyway. Besides, it's not as if she saw that woman as anything more than a teacher. Just someone who was there to aid her in her way to becoming strong enough to survive. Clearly she wasn't fit for the job since she just went and got herself killed.

"Where's J. and Fawn?", her teacher asked curiously, though he had already guessed why the two familiars weren't present.

Nico narrowed her eyes slightly, an awkward frown showing on her face. She wanted to avoid the subject of the two fae that had decided to follow her when they fled her old home. She never did get along with them well, even when they belonged to her mother. They were stingy and bossy, always telling Nico what was proper and what was improper for a lady to be doing. Especially Fawn, with her prissy attitude.

"Hmph! I don't need them around. I'll summon way cooler familiars. Just watch me!"

Actually, she'd tried multiple times in the past to do just that, but hasn't been very successful. Mako opened his mouth to reply, a look of annoyance being a clear sign of a incoming lecture, however there was a loud ping at the door and Nico quickly jumped to her feet. "Looks like I got a visitor! I'll talk to you again soon!", she said with a smile, closing down the screen before her teacher could reply. She hurried to the door and opened it to find one of the school's androids standing there. Ever since she'd accidentally broken her comm, she'd had quite a few of these guys stop by to relay messages. She really did mean to go get that thing fixed, not that the androids bothered her.

"What can I do for ya?"

Erenheart, Nicolla, your home room has been changed to Second floor room, 2-2-1-3, you will now report to Superior Professor Asher Donovan during your mornings here at Anthemia, do you have any inquires?

Her eyes widened slightly, a tremor of excitement running over her as she listened to the androids words. She turned around and grabbed the chair from the desk, dragged it across the room to the doorway, and then stepped up onto it to pat the android on the head as she finally replied. "That'll do. You have a nice day, Thomas!" This is what she called every android. A fitting name, indeed.

She then leaped from the chair and closed the door before the ad that she knew would follow could begin. She thought they were actually pretty entertaining sometimes, or at least when they included music and dancing to go along, but right now she was too preoccupied with her excitement. It was about time they assigned her a new homeroom teacher. The name of the professor sounded familiar for a second, but it escaped her as she hurried to shower and get dressed.

Next step, finding out where this room 2-1-2-3 was. 'Or wait..was is 2-3-1-1? That doesn't sound right eith--' "2-2-1-3!", she said as she passed by a door with numbers that caught her eye. With a deep breath, she raised her foot and kicked, causing the door to fly open as she hopped inside. Stopping just far enough away from the door so that it wouldn't hit her as it shut, she raised her hand up in a quick wave.

"Yo! Nico Erenheart, reporting for duty!", she lowered her hand and gave a more or less sloppy salute, her teeth pressed together as she gave not only the teacher, but the rest of the class a bright smile. She let her hands rest at her side and she gave a small, quick bow before turned to find her seat, her eyes scanning over each student, plus the strange-looking dragon, before her eyes locked onto where she decided to sit. She hurried up to the back row and flopped down into the seat right next to a girl with the black and white hair that had caught Nico's attention.

"You're really pretty!", she said cheerfully, crossing her arms on the desk in front of her and lowering her voice just slightly so not to shout.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Asher Donovan Character Portrait: Maddox Forester Character Portrait: Noel Audrey Rose Character Portrait: Robin Damian Grey Character Portrait: Caesar Minamoto Character Portrait: Hector Kazuhira Character Portrait: Lev Keisting Character Portrait: Nico Erenheart Character Portrait: NHP-S17 "Lorelei" Character Portrait: Willow Petra Uskose Character Portrait: Kenji Yamanaka Character Portrait: Joseph Rex Character Portrait: Amurel Sarcadia Character Portrait: Cuddy Vann
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#, as written by Kapento
Cuddy Vann



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It was very strange, even still, to be this far from his sandy homeland. Cuddy, although thrilled to be at the Academy could not help but desire to see even an inch of sand once more. Just think of the sandcastles! But he'd put this behind him for now. There was more important things at hand to contend with. Such as the particular android that had been hunting down Cuddy that morning, with a supposedly important message for him, and unfortunately had found the boy hiding in an old closet. Why? Well why not dude! Where else you gonna hide?

"Vann, Cuddy, your home room has been changed to second floor room, 2213, you will now report to Superior Professor Asher Donovan during your mornings here at Anthemia, do you have any inquiries?" The android spoke in a matter-of-fact soulless voice.

"A-Ah don't think so! But if I eva' do then I'll be sure to let you know." The blonde boy answered cheerfully, his purple-y orbs glancing curiously over the talking-thing. What was it again? Android. Cuddy was still coming to grips with all the gizmos that the academy had, least of all the androids. It wasn't like he was completely oblivious to them but the little chit-chatty things were something of an annoyance to him now and again. Especially since they always managed to find him. "Oh well, ta-ta for now I guess. Next time tho' I'll win that round!"

Grabbing his things together and throwing a bag halfheartedly over his shoulder the boy made sure to be prepared for whatever came his way that day, taking a moment to double-check once more, before finally continuing on his way down the hallway. The android took it's leave and rushed off past him, Cuddy merely huffing with a shrug before walking just a little bit quicker. I better not be late or I'll look bad yo!

His hurried walk gradually shifted into a panicked run as the boy made his way to the designated classroom. Naturally, what with all the hurrying and mad-dashing, Cuddy arrived in time. With a deep breath and forced coolio demeanour the blonde lad sported his commonly used smile and stepped into the room. By the looks of it there was already a bunch load of people there before him, but he wasn't worried. Promptly walking over to the desk of Mr. Donovan the boy thought best to let his attendance be known. He sure-as-hell wasn't getting marked as absent!

"Oh, hello Mr. Donovan, sir! I'm Cuddy Vann. I hope am' not late or nothin'." With a somewhat chilled approach to his teacher Cuddy merely widened his smile in hopes of things getting off to a good start. "Well, I best be gettin' to my seat and all, a-- Oh yeah, your thee Asher Donovan? Wow-oh-wow I can't believe it! Hey I'm a real fan a--" Beneath all the rambling a quiet little inner voice deep in his head was telling Cuddy to shut-up. Needless to say it took a few more minutes before the boy took any notice. "Ah, sorry I best be goin'!"

Turning on his heel the student moved along and sat himself down on one of the seats towards the front. He hadn't really took the time to notice who exactly was in his class, but after spinning round on his seat the blonde lad eyed up all the faces near and around him, only really vaguely knowing a few. Oh well. He figured he'd get to know them soon enough anyway. For now he'd just behave himself at least.

Throwing his bag to the floor and chilling in his chair Cuddy waited to see what happened next. However, the whole lookin' cool and doin' not a lot act didn't last long. Before he knew it the boy dug out an old what-dah-call-it and was fiddling around and tinkering as always.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: [NPC] Bartender Character Portrait: Robin Damian Grey Character Portrait: Allura Carrington Character Portrait: Hector Kazuhira Character Portrait: NHP-S17 "Lorelei" Character Portrait: Willow Petra Uskose Character Portrait: Kenji Yamanaka Character Portrait: Joseph Rex Character Portrait: Vivian Qrow
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#, as written by Shiki29
Hector wasn't anti-social. Close, but not quite. He wasn't seen too often in class, but he did know his classmates, more or less.

It wasn't too odd, being back in class. Everyone was similar to how he remembered them. Robin was as dutiful as ever, Willow as kind as ever, Kenji and Joe being as relaxed as ever, and Frank as loud as ever. The others came in, as Hector began to remember their names.

However, there was one student Hector had barely seen. Her hair was black and white. If Hector was correct, she was of the NHP project. She designated herself as number 17 of the project. Lorelei. Hector did not know much about her, other than rumous from some other students.

Supposedly, she was created in a lab so that she would be an effective Hunter. Apparently, some people were also irritated that she was allowed admission to the academy due to her being designed to fight daemons, rather than having worked the way most other students did.

Hector didn't know much about her, but Hector didn't believe others should be so disapproving of having another ally to fight daemons with. Hector may have been slightly biased, since he did not attend Anthemia Academy out of choice, but he believed that personal glory was not something students should aim for. Being upset that Lorelei seemingly made it into the Academy as a matter of course seemed childish. Besides, a human was difficult to perfectly replicate. Especially a Hunter. If she wasn't cut out for the Academy, then she would not be here. It would be foolishness for an artificially-produced Hunter to not be prepared to keep up with naturally-produced Hunters.

Hector next saw Vivian Qrow enter. She was one the students that caught Hector's interest. She was brash and violent, but he still found her to be a pretty tasteful person. To a degree. If the violent behavior wasn't something to go by. Although Hector detested needless cruelty, he still enjoyed her friendship. She was a great person to go drinking with.

And next, came one of the worst shocks Hector had in the school. Another student came in. She was one of the female students, and, despite her imperious aura, Hector did not remember much about her. Thinking deely, he remembered something about her. Her father was an important person. Maybe. Maybe Hector was just thinking of a different student. He didn't even know where he saw or read that information. However, she was hardly the surprise that Hector noticed.

Hector was a highly-skilled exorcist. His grades did not show it, out of design, but he did know his stuff. Anyone who knew him personally knew that he knew his stuff. And when Hector felt a small chill down his spine, he knew he had sensed sonething. It came with being a soldier for so long. Not a sixth-sense, but a combination of existing senses. Although it was not logical, Hector had learned to listen to it. He listened, and he opened his eyes towards the area he had confirmed there was something visible. To his side, also in the front row, sat that student that just entered. But near her was a magical disturbance. Something that blocked the flow of air, but could not be seen. Something invisible. Hector felt the malice pouring off of it in waves. Hector tended not to glare at anything. But, this was something he was sure of that caused him to glare for a short moment. His snake-like eyes focused on where the disturbance came from, glancing to it from the side as Hector kept his face rested on his hand.

There was a daemon in the classroom. Hector immediately relaxed, then. Daemons came in a lot of sizes and shapes, but Hunters possessed widely varying skills and magicks. Hector briefly wondered why a daemon would come to the middle of the Academy, Hunter central, before he decided to relax. That daemon, if it caused trouble, would probably not last long.

Hector opted to relax, but remain vigilant. Something bad happening would be able to be stopped, the daemon would be able to be stopped if an incident happened, but at the same time, it was better if an incident was avoided.

The girl seemed to be decent, though. Hector was not good at reading people, but the girl seemed to be very professional. She carried herself like the soldiers Hector had fought with when he was younger. The daemon entered when she did, though. She was definitely someone to watch for signs of trouble.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Asher Donovan Character Portrait: Maddox Forester Character Portrait: Noel Audrey Rose Character Portrait: Robin Damian Grey Character Portrait: Allura Carrington Character Portrait: Caesar Minamoto Character Portrait: Hector Kazuhira Character Portrait: Lev Keisting Character Portrait: Nico Erenheart Character Portrait: NHP-S17 "Lorelei" Character Portrait: Willow Petra Uskose Character Portrait: Kenji Yamanaka Character Portrait: Joseph Rex Character Portrait: Amurel Sarcadia Character Portrait: Cuddy Vann Character Portrait: Vivian Qrow Character Portrait: Althaia Psykhe Character Portrait: Esra Alkard Character Portrait: Duran Ledford Character Portrait: Altam Haytham
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#, as written by Golgari
The wind around the school always tasted like lemons. It was one of the few universal constants of this world. The sun rises in the east, water is a liquid and Anthemia air tasted like lemons. Altam licked his lips, trying to savor the sweet breeze. It was a nice change from the sandy gusts of Ura, where he'd spent his whole time out of class. He reached behind him and patted his treasures to make sure they were still secure in the bag. Though not nearly as fruitful as his previous foray into the desert, he had stumbled upon an abandoned village and picked up some neat souvenirs for Cuddy and a few others. Honestly Altam was amazed the school's robot was able to find him. He wasn't exactly a technomaster but they had to be rocking some pretty good locating software to find him in the middle of a desert.

"Hey Shamal, you don't think the teacher's gonna be mean, do you?" the boy asked, his voice as light as the cloth they were riding on. The wooden staff shook in his hands.

'I still can't believe I know who he is and you don't. I'm a million year old wind spirit and even I've heard of the incredible Asher Donovan!' The boy shrugged and fell backwards onto the quickly moving sheet. Though the air had changed, it would still be a good ten minutes until they arrived at the school. Altam squirmed with excitement. He had so many stories to tell and songs to play that he didn't even know where to begin.

It wasn't long before the landscape gave way to stone walkways and large buildings. He peered over the side of his carpet and marveled at the sheer lack of people outside. "Everyone must be in class." He said matter-of=factly. It was about a minute of aimless flying later that it dawned on him. He wasn't in class! With as much speed as he could muster Altam raced towards the largest building, looking through the windows at a breakneck pace for Cuddy's cute face. However, what caught his attention wasn't his B.F.F but a gigantic metallic dragon hovering in front of a window. Altam yelled in relief.

"Frank! Am I glad to see you!" The dragon turned and acknowledged the boy before turning back to observe his master. Sliding up beside him, Altam lifted the window up just enough to fly through and floated into the room, quickly followed by a swift breeze.

"Sorry I'm late, I flew as fast as I could!" He hopped off his turban into thin air, hovering above the ground as the blanket wrapped itself back around his head. he floated into cuddy at top speed, embracing his friend in a hug and whisking them both higher into the air. "Cuddy! I missed you so much! I have sooooo much to tell you about what I found!" A small grunt emanated from the front of the room. The new teacher no doubt. After placing his friend gently on the ground Altam reluctantly landed and weakly strode to the celebrity who was now teaching their class. It was a difficult journey to say the least. It had been months since Altam had last touched solid ground and his legs threatened to buckle at any moment.

"Hi there sir, I'm Altam Haytham! Nice to meet you!" He bowed respectfully and pushed himself off the ground, turning it into a frontflip and zipping over to his bag of treasure.

"Where is it...." He mumbled, digging through his sack. "Ahh! Here it is!" A small wooden idol emerged from the bag, completely covered in markings and carved into the shape if a giant toothed beast. With a small gesture the idol floated beside Cuddy.

"I told you I'd bring you something didn't I?" Altam smiled and looked around the room. He had met almost everyone there some time in his life. Almost. With a look of intense curiosity he floated over to the girl with two shades of hair. There seemed to be no joy in her eyes and that was something that Altam could not stand for. A small bronze box the size of a baseball drifted slowly out of the treasure bag and onto the desk in front of her.

"When I get sad or lonely, I play myself a song. Maybe it can help you too." He smiled brightly at the strange girl and flew back to his seat, hovering upside down over his desk. "This is going to be a great year, I just know it!"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Asher Donovan Character Portrait: Caesar Minamoto Character Portrait: Hector Kazuhira Character Portrait: Nico Erenheart Character Portrait: NHP-S17 "Lorelei" Character Portrait: Joseph Rex Character Portrait: Duran Ledford Character Portrait: Altam Haytham
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#, as written by Feyblue
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The supersoldier gave a silent groan, turning her eyes to the window as her momentary focus on the annoyingly loud hammer girl caused countless other voices to come flooding into her mind.

"Maybe you should try to be less of a total bitch!" Snapped one angry voice.

"Did I do something wrong? Did I offend her somehow? But all I did was talk... Was she actually reading my mind? If so, for what reason?" Wondered another, sounding hurt.

"If she's not cut out for the academy, then..." Lorelei gritted her teeth, shutting her eyes as she desperately tried to drive out the countless disgusted voices that seemed to follow her everywhere she went. Of course, actually paying attention to somebody else had been a mistake. She knew that, and yet she'd been so annoyed by that girl's perky attitude - She had to have been mocking her. Why else would she start a conversation with someone like Lorelei? - that she'd been unable to keep her calm and had snapped at her. And look where it had gotten her. Now she'd made another scene and blown her one and only second chance at starting over here. Why did it always have to be this way? It would be so much easier if people would just mind their own business and leave her alone. They hated her - that she knew - so why didn't they just ignore her and go about their own lives?! It didn't make any sense to interact with someone you despised, so why did people still choose to even come close to her? She was a freak, she knew that, everybody knew that! If they didn't want to have their thoughts read, then they should have just stayed away from her! Yet, even knowing about what she was, people still kept on trying to get reactions out of her... be they positive or negative.

With a dull clank, a small bronze box about the size of her palm landed on the desk in front of her. Her eyes snapped open and upwards to see where it had come from, only to find a young boy - she would have said he looked like he was only 11 years old or so, but his physique told a different story. Was he a midget or something? - floating above her, riding on what looked to be a disproportionately large turban. The image he presented was so comical, even she, the legendary ice queen, probably wouldn't have been able to stifle a laugh if she wasn't so confused by who he was, what exactly he had just given her, and what he thought he was doing.

"When I get sad or lonely, I play myself a song. Maybe it can help you too," Said the childish young man, grinning as though this non sequitur statement explained everything. With a knowing smile, he turned and flew away, leaving her opening and closing her mouth a few times, still not really sure what exactly had even happened. Pocketing the strange box in one of many small slits in the lining of her tabard, she then realized that the teacher had already begun speaking. She mentally slapped herself. If she didn't pay more attention to class and less to her classmates, she'd ruin herself - well, even more than she already had, anyway.

Unfortunately, things weren't exactly looking good for her regardless. Just her luck, she was being assigned to team up with some other students who would probably make it their lives' goals to drive her insane, assuming they weren't incompetent idiots. And, even worse, she couldn't even tell who she was going to be partnered with, since she didn't know even one of her classmates by name, and, even if she did, the announcement was in writing, and she couldn't read. She glared angrily at the list for a few seconds as though her sheer determination to understand it would mystically grant her the ability to both comprehend the names of those written on the sheet and pick them out from the rest of the class, but at last she gave up, sighing as she turned her gaze back out the window, trying to see the blue sky beyond the giant, hulking dragon made of trash in the courtyard. Considering most people in the school knew her simply as NHP-S17 - the numbers in which, which she could at least recognize, were pointedly absent from the sheet - the other members of her team probably wouldn't be able to recognize her, either. She supposed the only thing to do would be to wait until everybody had found their partners and then look for one group that was missing a person. Resigning herself to her need to utilize her powers, she kept her mind trained on the crowd around her, focusing intently on the word "Lorelei" and searching for any thoughts that might involve her in some way. She'd find her team one way or another. She just doubted she'd enjoy it.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Asher Donovan Character Portrait: Hector Kazuhira Character Portrait: Joseph Rex Character Portrait: Amurel Sarcadia
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#, as written by Shiki29
Hector felt the concentration of wind magic. It barely created a torrential vacuum that messed up everything in the classroom, but it did seem to be lifting the young kid around the classroom. What was he doing here, so young...? Wait, that was Altam. Playful enough, but Hector had sensed how strong his wind magic was, before. For an instant. If not for that, Hector would remain off his guard.

...Hector really should stay off his guard around his classmates. It was no wonder why he didn't have as many friends.

On second thought, that wasn't it. It was because he was a reclusenior who only came to class just enough to not fail.

Duran had come in as well, being his usual boisterous self. Hector needed to see his notes sometime. It was in Hector's nature to be sensitive to details, and with Duran's detailed notes, that nature could be fulfilled.

When Professor Donovan addressed the class, Hector straightened up, slightly. His team, his path to a mission.

The two others on his team were students Hector recognized. Joe, a slayer and a summoner. Hector recalled what he knew about Joe. Let's see. Joe was fairly smart, and enjoyed tinkering with things. He was also quite strong, and his wrench held a sort of brutal appeal to Hector. Also, there was Frank, a great source of heavy support. Joe was also mild mannered. Hector wou almost certainly get along with Joe.

And Amurel Sarcadia. She was quiet as well. A medic and a summoner. Hector hardly knew a thing about her. All he knew was that she was quite calm, and quite an effective healer. She had two fae as her familiars, a wolf and a dragon. Hextortion had the feeling that they would get along well. Every one on the group seemed to be a decent, calm person. Maybe this wouldn't be too stressful.

Beneath the face of this group, beneath how smart each of the three were, was one flaw Hector hopes will not be too much of a problem. It may even be a source of strength. None of them were mediums. There was no quick way to convey their tactics to each other. This set them behind where quick reactions were required. And, while this was a problem, it could be circumvented. But there was a problem that, if Hector's psychology was good, which it isn't, then the group may come to hate each other for all three of them being too similar in that none of them enjoy leading. But, this could be a boon as well. Without a leader, and with three intelligent people on a team, they may not require a leader or medium among them to see what their squad mates are planning.

While lost in the specifics, Hector realized something crucial. Without a medium on the team, Hector's thoughts would not be a danger to any of his squadmates. Finally. A group that worked for Hector. Looking in his row, he saw Joe, and he then located Amurel. It was best to say hello.

Hector spoke to Joe.

"Yo, Joe. My name is Hector Kazuhira, and we should talk to our other squad mate to prepare for the training exercise."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Asher Donovan Character Portrait: Hector Kazuhira Character Portrait: Nico Erenheart Character Portrait: Joseph Rex
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#, as written by Zalgo
Joe & Frank

It seemed that Nico tried to make conversation with the two toned hair girl before acknowledging his greeting

"Hey! Good to see ya!"

She waved and gave a thumbs up. He put on a mild smile and a wave back. "Good to see 'ya too." He met her greeting with a similarly positive albeit far less enthusiastic one.

All in the meanwhile people were filtering in, milling about and such. A wind mage zipped past Frank, eliciting a mild shifting noise as it moved it's head a bit out of the way as to not bar his passage. Most of the people were either doing little to nothing like Joe was or just talking amongst the peers they knew until the teacher spoke, the conversations dying down to hear what he had to say.

After the teacher introduced himself there was little Ash said that Joe would actually take to memory. Most of what he was going on about had to do with their prior teacher which he neither knew very well nor cared much about. The homeroom teacher would give him assignments and stuff to learn but besides that there wasn't much else to it. His relationship with the previous teacher was much like his relationship with everyone else: Distant at best. As such, Ash's voice was for the most part tuned out.

There was one thing Asher mentioned that caught his attention. Most particularly was the mention of agendas. While Joe didn't speak much he definitely thought about much. Most of his thoughts were more directed towards matters of his purpose and just why he did what he did. He knew that when he was given tasks to hunt demons as many hunters do he's not just doing it to learn for knowledge's sake, he's fighting a war for them. He knew there was more to the school than just humanity's survival, there were corporations and the government who had their own interests in them. While he didn't suspect they were being manipulated as of current time if he were to become more successful then he'd have to start watching out for such insidious dangers. If he wasn't successful, likely chances would be because he would die at the hands of the daemons. He didn't need to worry as much about what happened beyond that.


More of his concerns were aimed at just what the future held for him. If he were to pursue the path of the hunter the most probable outcome would be his death. After all, humanity had been fighting these things for a long time and it was a war they were losing. What if he were to succeed though? If by some miracle if he were able to thwart the demonic forces and drive them back, ensuring humanities safety... Then what? Humanity throws a big parade for him, whoop dee freakin' doo, and then that's it. No more daemons, no more need for hunters. Failure was it's own punishment but what reward would there be in victory when the only reasonable conclusion is that he, along with all the other hunters, would be thrown out just like trash.

But he was nothing if not true to his word. As a student it's his obligation to carry out these tasks so long as until the period he's agreed to do so has expired. So, true to his word he shall do what is asked of him but come the time that he's served the time he's agreed to and the school has nothing left to offer him and Frank then just like that he would resume being his own man, free to set his own destiny. He saw no point in exhausting himself and risking Frank's safety in a futile effort for nothing of any real value if he didn't give his word that he would.


The teacher announced the teams and it informed Joe of one important thing. 'Yep, I'm in the right class.' Hearing his name listed confirmed his suspicions. For a bit there he was almost worried he just waltzed into a class he wasn't even supposed to be at. Would of been bothersome having to talk his way out of that.

As far as who he was partnered with he had little clue who either of these guys were. Quite frankly he didn't care who he was teamed up with. It would all be the same deal as it usually was. Typically on any mission where he needed to work with someone or in a group of any kind he'd just sleep until somebody woke him up and told him to do something at which point he'd do it. Rather simple stuff really, nobody really depended on him for anything really technical because he wasn't a scholar or a medium. Most of the time his job in groups were either manual labor or bashing demons up. He was quite proficient in bashing demons up but his approach would work best when it's just him and Frank against whatever they're told to hit. Most of the time he'd just follow the groups command rather than fight like he'd like to fight. It was boring but at least he'd get plenty of sleep between bouts of violence. He figured this would be no different.


Though he was immersed in thought he was still aware enough to see one of the other students approach him, likely his team mate though that was just an assumption he was still on the fence about.

"Yo, Joe. My name is Hector Kazuhira, and we should talk to our other squad mate to prepare for the training exercise."

The other classmate who introduced himself as Hector mentioned. Joe was a bit puzzled really. As far as he heard, the only thing they needed to do was to head down to the training room. It was quite quizzical why he'd need to talk to either of them.

"Talk... About what?" His tone was definitely an honest representation of how he felt about what Hector just proposed. That was about as much as he was going to say on that matter however as he soon turned his attention to the matter of the training room.

"I'll head on down to the training room." He informed his new team mate. He did not see any point in talking and unless he did he would much prefer to avoid doing so. At the very least this way it looked a little like he's just being proactive about the exercise Ash's got planned for them. Anyone with even a reasonable ability to read someone could tell his more honest intention however. If there was one thing Joe was not any good at it was hiding things using his words.


Without conversing any further he went over to the window and started to climb out. "Hey Frank!" The trash dragon simply lowered it's head, allowing Joe to climb on. "Now that wasn't all that long now was it?" He teased Frank a bit. It didn't really respond, it's silence serving as an answer in and of itself. "So yeah, it's the right class. Teacher guy said we gotta head on down to the training room."

Not needing to hear much more it raised it's head up high, the strength of the winds blowing against him as it brought it's arms up to start trudging forward. With his goggles shielding his eyes and his tool box held firmly in his grasp he directed Frank over to where he roughly estimated the training room would be. He might not know all the rooms in this school by heart but he knew enough to have a vague idea of where the training room would be. Loud thud after loud thud could be heard as they made their way towards where he believed their destination to be.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Hector Kazuhira Character Portrait: NHP-S17 "Lorelei" Character Portrait: Joseph Rex Character Portrait: Amurel Sarcadia
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Amurel sighed as she pulled a rolled up book out of her back pocket. Her eyes crossed while she read as she tried not to fall asleep. Occasionally she would look up at the professor, waiting, wondering when he planned on beginning the class, but he didn’t seem in a rush to do so. Looking around again she spotted a couple of people that she had seen in her previous years at the school. Not lingering on anyone particularly long, not wanting to make it awkward.

There were several people talking amongst themselves, in particular to a girl with different colored hair. As she stared at her face she tried to place it… Where do I know her from? she thought. After several moments it hit her, that’s the “girl” that is being used in that project…what do they call her? Laura? Lorie? Lorelei…yes. I should probably steer clear of her. I’ve read enough to know when to stay away. Still, she felt somewhat bad for the girl. Her life must not have been that of ease and Amurel could relate (even if it was on the most basic level, there was no way she had suffered quite to the extent of Lorelei) but nonetheless she felt for her.

Just as she was finding her way back to her book Professor Donovan began to speak. Shoving her book back into her pocket Amurel slid her eyes to the front of the class and sat up straight. He spoke about teams, and named those that were to be paired with Amurel.

She groaned in frustration, not because of her teammates, and not because she had to be on a team, rather that she was socially inadequate, usually preferring to spend her time with a book or training. This was a good chance for her though – she could get a mission, and the two names that had been spoken didn’t conjure up horrible memories for her so they couldn’t be that bad to work with.

Sliding slowly out of her chair she tried to pair their names with the faces around the room.

“Joe…and Hector,” the whisper not audible to anyone but herself.

Across the room she heard someone speak just the beginning of the sentence. “Yo, Joe. My name…” that was all she caught but she wiped her head around to the sound of the voice.

The faces were somewhat familiar but not enough for Amurel to make a fair assessment of how this pairing was going to go. She knew they were both rather quiet but that made it even harder for her to gauge them. As she began to walk towards them Joe began to leave and she rushed to catch up. Reaching Hector first she nodded her head.
“I believe were in the same group?”

It was more of a question, not at all how she had intended to introduce herself. The toughness she wanted to exude came off as very meek and shy and she cursed herself under her breath.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Hector Kazuhira Character Portrait: NHP-S17 "Lorelei" Character Portrait: Joseph Rex Character Portrait: Amurel Sarcadia
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#, as written by Shiki29
Hector was slightly perplexed by Joe. Hector knew the uselessness of general communication, especially when their goal was so clear to them, but to completely throw it out the window, Hector believed was rash. At the least, small talk could give knowledge and information. Well, that was Hector's chief approach to things. Maybe Hector shouldn't take it too seriously. Watching as Frank and Joe got going, Hector turned to the sight of the commotion in the back of the room. Lorelei had begun a demonstration of her powers to her team-mates, it seemed. The change in demeanor was amazing. but that was not what drew Hector's attention.

What truly drew it was the demonstration of her powers. Hector could feel the flow of magic through Lorelei's water blade. The flow of magic was smooth and precise. An untalented Magus may end up performing spells with a great degree of inefficiency, magical energy spilling everywhere. But with Lorelei, the magic was fine-tuned to the water blade, and had little excess used. Hector wouldn't say that it was to his own level of efficiency, but he was definitely surprised and delighted to see his ally was so skilled with water magic. The manner of her change in demeanor, however, was a little concerning. Hector didn't know whether this was the madness seen in soldiers who lose their minds in the heat of battle, or the madness of someone who was driven insane by some other venue. Or, alternatively, she wasn't insane, and her team-mates, situation, or something in her life has led her to become unhealthily unconcerned with her own actions. Hector believed the archaic term, "200% done," was the name for it. Whatever it was, Hector knew enough from browsing old databases that this was not too serious.

Smiling, Hector got up and slung his bag over his shoulder, ready to head out. His squad mate, Amurel, had caught him, and mentioned that they were in the same group. Hector didn't notice much about her, but she seemed to be awfully shy at this moment. Hector himself looked away, and scratched the back of his head before replying to her and cursing his own shyness at the same time.

"Yes, we are. Are there any concerns you have about your team? I could wait for you, if you want to switch teams. Do you have any concerns about operating as a team? If so, I could meet you halfway, so we could make it easier to be a team. . . Sorry, I'm not a good speaker. But, I think we should do whatever we can to operate well, as a team, in spite of how each member of our squad doesn't like social situations."

Hector waited to see if she had any concerns, before he extended his hand in a hand-shake.

Hector then spoke in a voice even quieter than his normal, calm voice, but just enough that Amurel could hear him.

"Also, I am not sure if you know, but I am a Scholar and Exorcist. I'm good at magic, and great at building and repairing things."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Robin Damian Grey Character Portrait: Hector Kazuhira Character Portrait: Willow Petra Uskose Character Portrait: Duran Ledford
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#, as written by Kestrel
Image




“How could I not?” Duran jested Willow while shaking his head. He had been able to feel Willow staring at him and his actions, but Duran had pretended not to notice her reprimanding signs. Even if she didn't look the part anymore, Duran sometimes still saw her as the timid and naive girl she had been when they first met. “I was just making acquaintances with our new friend here, isn't that right, Robin?”

From his first reaction, Duran thought he had Robin in the bag, but it didn't take long for the startled, blushing young man to turn that around. Somewhat taken aback, Duran narrowed his eyes as Robin spoke. Gutsy, Duran thought to himself, folding his arms, but letting his pen do some writing as his fellow slayer monologued. His lip quivered, eager to interrupt his new teammate. Duran's eyes interlocked with Robin's, unwavering as if playing a contest of gay chicken. For a second it seemed like Duran would explode... But instead the complete opposite happened; Duran burst into jovial laughter.

“Looks like you got some spring to your step after all.” Duran snickered, dropping himself off Robin's desk and pulled the empty chair towards him, just as Robin had suggested. He threw himself back in the chair and took a quick look at his notebook, now containing what Robin had just told him.

“You're right, as a team we should face each other as equals.” Duran responded, finally having come to. He sat down to the side of the two instead of between them. “No need for the honorifics. Mister Ledford is my dad. Duran will do just fine. Oh and speaking of dads, yours is just fine in my book.” Duran said, although his last sentence had a hint of sour to it. Duran didn't like having to repeat himself.

“So you've heard of my little problem?” Duran raised an eyebrow as Robin mentioned his crafting ability. The mention of his 'calibre' brought a slight smirk to his face. “Did you let him in, Willow?” Duran then asked his friend, sincerely wondering. He did not remember telling anyone of yet another weapon breaking, but Willow might had been able to figure out what had caused his mood to turn foul a few days ago. She had a knack for that. “You know, I asked a droid this morning about exactly that.” He complained to both Robin and Willow. “You would think the technicians here would have figured something like that out by now. Still, if you're making the offer...” Duran motioned his head toward Hector, further back in the class. “You should talk to that guy, he's talked about trying the same thing. I'd gladly accept anything that can dish out a beating without taking one.”

After a few moments of silence, Duran leaned forward, throwing an arm around each teammate, seemingly in a good mood despite their little rough start. He flashed a smile at both Robin and Willow respectively, “Let's toast to our new team, tonight.” Duran suggested, pulling all three heads together (possibly pulling his teammates of their chairs in his enthusiasm) like they were a rugby team seconds away from a scrum. “On my tab.”

Still, in spite of his cheer, there were two things that bothered Duran. When he let go, he took a moment to himself to consider which lingered on his mind... He knew he still wouldn't let Robin be alone with Willow for a while. At least until he figured if he could trust Robin to be a decent enough guy around his old friend... And then there was one more thing Duran had to settle...

“Oh and Robin,” Duran spoke telepathically so that Willow wouldn't be able to hear it. Although his expression hadn't changed and Duran wasn't moving his lips, the voice Robin would hear in his head was stern and meant business. “I'll let it slide this once, but I know you know better than to threaten me. Us folks from Aeralis are not in the here and now for nothing. So let's get along, shall we?”