Owsla Hall's Story

Oreron and Owsla

Forests, a peaceful place that harbored those wanting to feel at peace and at home while also providing cover for those of...particular lifestyles. Though as one inspected the wood of said timber, one would notice claw marks and slashes of a knife in them. As if someone was making sure that they didn't get lost as the woods got denser and denser.

Two people walk among the trees. One upright and female. Dressed in a fashion that would make one think she was a warrior princess of some Neco Tribe as her armor looked made from anything that she had killed and skinned herself. The other was a large man, but walked on all fours and was dressed as if he was taking a walk from his home except for the large splotch of dried blood on his arm, face and tunic, though none of the blood coming from his own body.

"Fatha! You sure that it wasn't a good idea to clean yourself off? The shirt's gonna get seeped in the smell, and I can smell a lake nearby." The female said as she walked beside the large male who seemed to walk on all fours.
"I'll be fine. He got supplies at least so a hunt won't be needed." The male responded as he bounded ahead of the female. She snickered at him as he peeked his head out between the timber in front of them. "But at least we know you were right." he said as he pointed ahead.

A lagoon of sizable measure, reflecting the landscape before them as the female ran up to the shore in excitement and jubalence. "Finally! Thought I'd never get to see one of these again!" she cheered as she proceeded to shed her armor as the male proceeded to find a suitable spot on the shore and sat down as he watched the woman, now nude, jump into the lake and disappear into the loch.

He shook his head and laughed, having not feel a feeling of peace in such a long time. "You should see your girl, Kathleen. She's just as wild as you were all those years ago." he said to himself as the female surfaced from the water, her white mane flattened by the amount of water in it. "You comming in dad?!" she yelled as the current pulled her further out into the watery darkness. He waved to her and motioned his head. "I'll clean up later, just let me at least rest, Owsla." Owsla shrugged as her father plopped onto his back and stared up at he sky smirking. "If only you can see her now." He whispered as he closed his eyes. It had been a while since he had a peaceful nap.

Owsla Hall

Water. Wether it be the sea or a lake like this, it is were all life once came from. Civilizations spring up around the water and now a neco finds peace by said lake. Owsla peered her head up from under the surface, feeling the life-giving liquid flow freely down her face and out of her ears. But what fill them back up as the sound of gun fire. An all too familiar sound that didn't make her flinch, but put a maddened grin on her face.

She swam up to shore, shaking herself dry as she spied her father fast asleep on the bag as she put her clothes back on. "Sorry Papa, But I have some foraging to do" she said as she trotted off toward the sound of where the gunfire had come from. At first she walked as she watched the tree tops and passing a river along the way, knowing sometimes bandits liked to hide up there. Soon it was a trot once out of the tree line, only stopping to look out over the abandoned and war-torn village. It gave her chills just looking at it. Memories of a life that had run from and days where the name of the game was "kill for sport, not to survive"

"Zanuks. Online." Two words made her buckle to her knees as a green skin started to form from her back and spread over her body like someone was pouring molasses over her body. She contorted and writhed in what looked like pain, but was laughing. Loudly. Laughing loud enough for it to be heard across the field for some time. As the skin solidified, large boxes that looked either like storage or weapons rose up on her shoulder. The body of the armor still looked vaguely human as she stood on all fours; her face completely covered and looked more like another creature than human anymore.

There was a beeping and soon it was blended into the surrounding environment. Nearly completely invisible aside from a few ripples in the area where it was and yellow lights where the eyes where. It jolted down toward the village, only a dust cloud being seen behind her.

The buildings came quickly, stopping her running only resulting in her skidding in the ground and leaving marks before correcting herself back on her "feet". Her footsteps where near silent. The crunch of rocks being pushed aside and soft metal under foot as she wandered about.

The smell of wet iron, that unmistakable smell of blood nuzzled itself in her nose as she wandered about. Soon witnessing the bodies of people. Guns and bullet shells everywhere. A growl rose from her as if she were saying something, quickly setting uppon the corpses and taking anything she could take. Fading back into vision, the "creature" trotted from body to body as if hoping to find anything of use.

---

Of all the things William had made, never had he been so infatuated as he was with the Alexander armor. Was it because it would be one of the single greatest weapons when it was perfected? Or was it because nothing had stumped him so hard as this one thing had. You see, developing the world's mos reliable weapons over the course of his life, he never had issues with his technology. Things went exactly as he planned, according to his theories, and were finished well before the deadline. That's why he was always given more than enough money, resources, and personnel to work with. Yet.... this armor did not want to abide by those 'laws' that had been set. No, he was given hassle he was never used to, and though it obviously irritated him, in a way, it even thrilled him and entertained him, even if he might not be aware of this.

William had long ago figured and implemented a way to make a set of armor with the durability of a tank, and one entirely resistant to electro-magnetic pulses as well, In fact, the ones who had contracted him to make such a weapon were satisfied with just the prototype. Because even if it worked in short burts, a whole platoon or even a squad of these suits, whether under control by a Neco or a Sapien, could cause massive damage to enemies without proper countermeasures.

But William was not satisfied.

Abrams weapons were always reliable. While some competitors might have been able to boast about stability or some other attribute of the gun that was barely better than an Abrams weapon, non could make a gun or piece of equipment that was more reliable. And on the battlefield, you did not want something unreliable. A pistol is infinitely better than a sniper rifle at long range if the sniper rifle cannot fire while the pistol can. With Abrams, you would have to go out of your way to harm the weapon and stop it from firing. Jamming, locking, and other problems just weren't with Abrams, and it's because William made sure that was the case. So, when he made a weapon that did not work as he intended - reliably - he refused to part with it. It simply was not finished and it would not be without some dedicated time in his lab. Well, shit hit the fan in the world and then there was explosions that sorta kinda killed off most of civilization, and made it harder to obtain the required materials as reliably as he'd once gotten. Plus, his contractors were obliterated, but that did nothing to hinder William, and in fact made it easier since he did not have people breathing down his neck about it. But essentially, he would not part or stop with the Alexander until it was his idea of perfect, and it most certainly was not.

William Abrams was checking the Pocket and was glad to see there was no complications with it. If the device computed the math inputted into it wrong due to a bug, he could lose everything in it, which would be hassling. At least the Alexander had a static protocol that he remembered in his head, so no matter what he wouldn't lost that. But, well, the Pocket was very convenient. This small device was of his own creation, and it had been sold, although it was never mass-produced. He remembered giving it to the Bantons, a Neco family renowned for their skills and savagery with the blade. They often purchased most of the close-range weaponry that the Abrams produced and tested it in live combat scenarios as a way to afford the first versions of it. Alexander might've actually been the best possible thing to give to that family. At least, it'd help a lot with the whole range issues a sword had.

Thinking back, that book-sized Pocket was very bulky, wasn't it? Why was I adamant it be shaped like a cube? Ha, what a peasant's mistake...

*Rustle... rustlerustle....*

"Hmm... ?"

There was a very soft, yet distinct sound in the distance that caught William's attention as he reminisced to himself about his old designs of the Pocket. Had he someone around to distract him, perhaps this would've gone unnoticed, but considering he should have been alone with nothing but the deceased bodies of those men he'd killed, it was loud enough to be noticed. William did the obvious thing in this situation and equipped his pistol, making sure that it was both loaded and the safety was not in the way. Afterwards, he proceeded out what had been the door of the building, back when it had seen better days. Stepping over the small pile of rubble, he scanned the area.

"Konnichi wa! Dareka ie ni imasu ka?" came a voice from a few destroyed buildings over.

Is that.... Japanese?

Although he was unsure as to why someone foreign was all the way out here, he did not particularly care about that. It was more important to focus on what they wanted, and if they would make him waste another bullet. "I don't speak Japanese." he replied to the voice coming from what appeared to be a young girl that was a few years older, pointing his pistol right at her. Father always did handle foreign affairs, after all. "You and..." he nudged his head over towards one of the dead bodies, where he'd heard the rustling from earlier, "...had best come out. I don't have the will or patience to deal with more rabble." He did not know how many people had come here, but he did know there were two at the very least. If he hadn't heard that rustling, he might've been inclined to believe otherwise, but only if this small girl turned out to be hostile as well. The weak do not survive out here for long without reason, and the only feasible explanation was that she used her looks to deceive and murder, or that someone was protecting her.

Owsla Hall

The Creature rummaged through the bodies, growling in an irritated tone as it flipped a corpse over as if angry that it couldn't find anything of use. It was fully visible now, albeit stalking around and looking in windows before it perked up at something. A voice speaking in a language that it didn't understand and another that was clear as day. Both unfamiliar, but promising as it had not seen other people besides the larger of the pair. It ducked into a near falling apart building and laid on the before snarling again. Soon it began writhing in what looked like pain.

The green "skin" started to reside, showing Neco flesh rather than than that of a cloaking creature. Owsla bit her lip as she could feel some of her hair being pulled along with the skin, trying not to help in pain. Soon the skin was nothing more than a a small pack on her back and she had returned to her normal, upright standing position. "That thing needs to be fixed when we can find some paaaaarrrttts~" She said, half yawning as the sound of her back cracking echoed through the decrepit building.

she ran her hands through her braids, counting them to make sure none of them had been pulled out by the suit before peering her head out of the doorway. Her blue eye and yellow glowing eye patch focused on two people. Both of them registering as Necos in her mind, the girl she had never seen before. She raised a brow, noting how...soft she looked. Most other female neco she met were usually battle-hardened from the war. This one seemed less effected than most as a nicer way of putting it.

The male however, the gold hair stood out to her like the last piece of candy in a bowl. She remembered a man with golden hair that had showed her kindness in the past. It instantly put a smile on her face to say the least. Last I remember I was in a cabin in the woods somewhere. Wonder if he's moved out of it? she sauntered out from her hiding spot behind him and smiled, purring loudly like a large wild cat. "Goldie! It's been so long! I thought you were still stuck in the woods after that blizzard!" she exclaimed as she attempted to hug him around the waist.

---

Shiro turned with a start at the voice, and her eyes widened and her expression showed fear when the man pointed his gun at her. The man with the gun was speaking English. This was to be expected, they were in what used to be America after all, and she understood English perfectly well. She just couldn't speak it well. She instantly seemed to close herself, becoming shy and nervous.

Weiss had observed this and right when Weiss was about to jump down to greet the blonde haired man, a third person, female joined them.

"Goldie! It's been so long! I thought you were still stuck in the woods after that blizzard!" She announced.

Kuso... That was unexpected. He thought to himself, cursing his luck. He then shrugged inwardly to himself and hopped down from the roof he had been hiding, landing softly in front of Shiro. It pleasured him that the blonde man had not noticed him up there, but he didn't plan on hiding.

"Listen, we're all Necos here, I'm not going to attempt to hurt you." Weiss said, showing that both his handgun and katana were holstered and sheathed, respectively. "I just had to confirm you were Neco." He continued, his gaze blank. He turned to look at Shiro, and whispered, "Arigato gozaimasu, Shiro."

---

Many positive things had been said about William over the course of his life that shaped him to have the personality he did now. Things like 'You're the best', 'Genius', 'Brilliant', 'Awesome', and the sort had given him a very good impression of himself. He did not lack in self-esteem, he was very assertive, and he prided himself on being everyone's better. Blame the cruel, odd way he grew up that prevented him from having too much compassion as well as too much self-loathing.

But I digress. The important thing is that you know that William thought himself better than everyone else. Nobody else made the kinds of items and weapons he did. Nobody else constantly provided the dogs of war with reliable weapons. And certainly, nobody had even come close to engineering a suit that could single-handily take down hundreds in the right conditions. Yes, he was so brilliant that he blessed the very presence of those he was around, and the ground he walked on. He would say he was God's gift to mankind, but he didn't believe in God, and even if he did, he'd think he was God's better. His narcissism was one of his most defining traits, and it effected just about everything he did.

His reactions, for example.

William had been careless. He had assumed whatever it had been rummaging through the bodies he'd created would still be over there, and that was an assumption he shouldn't have made. It was only the purr that managed to give the person away, and that was much too late to effectively counter the attack being thrown at him. William cursed himself for falling for exactly the same tactic he'd flawlessly avoided with these bandits just minutes ago and nearly resigned to his fate.

.........
......
...

*Press*

He was grabbed around the waist from behind, a certain feeling betraying that it was a female who did so. Not that that was particularly necessary, as she shouted something as her grip found him. Had the words she spoken not shocked him for a brief moment, he might've been able to use his experience as a playboy to give himself a rough equivalent of size, even through whatever fabric was pressed between him and those. Yet, this was not to be, as she'd said something that he could not just forget or allow to pass by without proper retaliation.

"Goldie! It's been so long! I thought you were still stuck in the woods after that blizzard!"

...What did she say... ?

Around that time, a man had appeared from the rooftops. He looked very similar to the Japanese-speaking women before him. He spoke about him not meaning harm 'evidenced' by the fact his weapons weren't at the ready. A Katana and a holstered pistol. By the basic frame, Abrams could tell that it was one of his, but he wasn't sure the model and wouldn't be until he could get a better glimpse.

By the unconscious looks both of these people were giving, the one behind him wasn't with them. He wanted to keep his cool at the moment, he really did. But some things people just can't let go. While the woman, whoever she was, behind him had not attacked his life, that 'name' attacked his pride. His very being. And that was much worse than his life being threatened. He could not forgive it. And so, his venom was known to all around, as he managed to get himself out of the abnormally strong grip she had somehow. He turned to face all three of the strangers and noticed that the attacker was actually a bit taller than him. With that fact alone he could gather she was a Neco -- Sapiens weren't that intimidating in stature, especially not females. But, again, none of that mattered. He was angered, and this woman had done the angering. She was lucky he did not just murder people when he was angry. "...Who gave you permission to place your hands on me, heathen?" he shot Owsla a very nasty glare, but kept his gun pointed down for now. His pride made it impossible for him to fear anything at the moment. "I will not tolerate disrespect of that magnitude, especially from some animal! Why would I, heir to Abrams Industries, even consider living in a shamble in the middle of the woods? I did not think it impossible for someone to use their head to even that extent." he was in the mood to even verbally acknowledge the other two right now. He just knew that people invading his personal space and then having the audacity to call him 'Goldie' obviously needed to be taught a lesson in manners.

Owsla Hall

If it wasn't for the the fact that she knew that her "Goldie" was not as strong as to get out of her grip, she would have held on the the man for much longer and nuzzled his back. However, the verbal beating she recived from this 'heir to Abram Industries' guy made her stand stright up again. She noted that she was a tad taller than him, albeit it didn't stop him from calling her a heathen and an animal. The latter she was used to from years of being on her own. The former, However, made her yellow eye glow with a mix of annoyance and anger.

"Now Listen here you gold-haired pissant! Just because I mistook you for someone I know doesn't mean can go around and callin' people that ya prick!" She snarled, her teeth looking more like a mix of a shark and a large cat. "And what do you mean 'heir to Abrams Industries'? Ya somekinda headhunta or solida? Ya look like someone fatha would know or have fought with anyway or the spoiled brat of someone who worked with him." she mouthed off, getting ever closer to his face until he was nearly nose to nose with him. She snorted a breath and hissed softly before pulling away, knowing she was about to plug her fist into his face in an instant.

She walked backwards away from him and held out her arm, letting a green skin form over it and her hand; making it look like a hoof-hand hybrid of obivious mechanical origin. Even if it did look oddly organic. A hologram faded into view and quickly glitched out on her causing her to mutter in frustration and quickly turn on her heel away from him and the other two.

Her head perked up slightly as she looked back but at the other white haired pair. "You two. There's a lake in the forest just at the top of that hill. Follow the gashes in the trees and you'll get there without getting lost. If you see a man that looks more like a bear than Neco, you're at the right place." Her tone was stern, but not intending to fighten as she rattled her arm again to keep the hologram from glitching into static. If the day didn't get any more frustrating, she would have gladly left by now if it wasn't for the feeling she would be followed by this jackass.

---

You could tell a lot about what a person was feeling, or about the person's manner, just by their body language. For instance, Weiss always stood straight up, making him appear quite tall, with his arms at his side in an almost military-like stance. He'd look straight ahead with a slight smile on his face, as if he were plotting something, or found something amusing. He'd carry himself with a look of confidence that made most people in the cities scared to approach him. This was his normal demeanor, and how he was right now.

But when the woman told them to go somewhere, and gave him directions, he bristled. His whole body seemed to tense up. "I do not, and will not take orders from you." He said simply. He looked up and down the girl and turned away from her with a look of utter disinterest.

Then something clicked in his mind. He had heard the man say it, but didn't think much of it, until subconsciously he recalled it.
"Why would I, heir to Abrams Industries, even consider living in a shamble in the middle of the woods?"
"I, heir to Abrams Industries,"

He squinted his eyes and held his hand out to the side. Shiro noticed this and pulled a small device out of her pocket and put it in Weiss's hand. He began to tap on it, as it was a smart phone of sorts. After a few seconds he looked up from it, a dark expression on his face. "I thought so...

"William Abrams, of Abrams Industries. An arms producing company, and perhaps one of the biggest and well known, as they supplied the most weapons to the military in the war." His hand started opening and closing, tensely, as if he wanted to draw his sword but was holding himself back. "I'm not sure whether I should hate you and be disgusted with you, or just not care about you at all.

---

"And what do you mean 'heir to Abrams Industries'? Ya somekinda headhunta or solida? Ya look like someone fatha would know or have fought with anyway or the spoiled brat of someone who worked with him."

What was wrong with people these days? Why, sure, you there was no possible way to be as brilliant as the one, and the only, William Abrams, but still.... to not know of the Abrams, or their worth in the world, even after it was mostly destroyed was something only someone who lived under a rock could do. It sickened him knowing people were reduced to such a low state of being. Granted, they weren't that high up to begin with, yet to sink that low, you might as well be a bug or vermin. And that's exactly what he thought of those kinds of people. More than anything, rather than making him angry, it simply disgusted him due to the lack of knowledge. How were uneducated people surviving in this cruel world? Lady Luck must be smiling upon them these days, is all William could figure.

As the beastlike-yet-womanish figure backed off, she'd begun forming some form of armor on her hand. His interest piqued, he raised his eyebrow briefly, but the interest dropped immediately when he remembered that she wouldn't have an answer to his problem. She did not seem bright in most regards, public, or academic. If he had to honestly guess without any annoyance in her touching him get in the way, the fact that she managed to sneak up on him, and he appearance, he'd wager she was someone who was more accustomed to a primitive way of living. And this thought was more or less confirmed when she spoke to the other two.

"I do not, and will not take orders from you."

For some reason or another, William's mood improved immensely. He contained his desire to let out a small chuckle when seeing the response towards the woman, but couldn't hide the smile. That silly woman assuming she was worthy of ordering people around! Why, the only one who should be giving out orders was, of course, himself. But he had no workshop and no use of employees right now, so there was no point in wasting his breath. William preferred when he could do things himself anyway.

"William Abrams, of Abrams Industries. An arms producing company, and perhaps one of the biggest and well known, as they supplied the most weapons to the military in the war." William turned to face the man who seemed to know exactly who he was. The man's hand was tense and quite obvious with its motions, so that didn't go unnoticed. "I'm not sure whether I should hate you and be disgusted with you, or just not care about you at all."

To this, William gave a bit of a hearty laugh. "Fwaha! So it seems some people are aware of who I am! Good, good! It pleases me to see that not everyone still managing to survive lives under a rock! But..." his smiled dropped immediately, a bit of a colder expression replacing it. ".... I do not care in the slightest what you think about me. Nor anybody. People tend to despise me for a number of petty reasons. Because my weapons killed someone they love. Because I succeeded and they failed. Because our family allowed both sides of the war to purchase them." he continued, an mocking smile on his face. "Unless you have a genuine reason for thinking negatively of me, I won't waste my time."

His voice then turned towards the beast-woman. Now that he thought about it, something about her seemed very, very vaguely familiar. It was unfortunate that he could not place a finger on it, however. More importantly, she mentioned something about her father. Maybe her father was more civil. And, perhaps, her father might have the slightest clue as to whom attacked the Abrams. It was a long-shot, of course. But at the moment, the only real solid objective William had was finding a way to improve the Alexander, so it could be delayed in favor of a possible lead on his foe. He never fully believed it was just random bandits that stole his home. "You there. Woman. Do you have a name? Perhaps I have made dealings with your father before. I would like to meet him, assuming he is still living."

Owsla Hall

Breathe in....

Breathe out...

Breathe in...

Breathe out...

If there was one way for someone to really piss off this daughter of war, it was to assume that she was dumber than she looked. The rage filled beast in her wanted to kill everyone here. The girl, this asshole that thought he was better than everyone here and the other white haired man. However, if she wanted to survive out here...she would have to keep her cool for much longer than she liked.

She imminently turned her head toward the white haired male, her eyes filled with an anger and annoyance only held back by sheer will. "That wasn't an order. I was giving you a tip, you twit." She said in an unnaturally calm tone. as if it was the calm before the storm as the hologram finally came up to clear view. She started moving around boxes filled with information, muttering things to herself as her eyes darted back and forth.

"Ah. There it is. Now I see the pattern." She said as the hologram was waved away, hunching over as she muttered in a much lower tone. It wasn't the fact that this person was here and she mistook him for someone else that made her angry. Oh no, she had done this many times before and got such a chilly response. It was the fact this this guy...this "William Abrams" thought of himself as better than others. She had a severe hatred for those kinds of people. City dwellers that lived soft and cushy lives and looked down their noses at her and her father. Thinking of her only as animals. Those were the kinds of people she took absolute joy in stealing from. Not taking their lives, but taking what they had and leaving them out in the cold afterwards. She could think of many vile things she could do to the man, but now was not the time to implement any of those at all.

Her head snapped at the mention of being called 'woman' turning her anger filled eyes into those of bearly restrained rage. "I do have a name. But since you know everything and I am nothing more than a heathen to you, then look this up: Hall." she snarled through her teeth as if keeping herself on a tight leash. "And before you ask. Yes, he lives to the chargin that many people nowadays."

The green skin started to spread slowly across her back and neck to her other arm as she started walking away. she looked back and the gold haired arrogant male before the rest of it covered her hair and race. "If you want to meet him after finding what I said. Remember the directions I gave them and follow them." and with that, the green skin started to over take her and force her to all fours very quickly. once completely covered she faded from view and a dust cloud appeared as well as "paw" prints. in the dirt, heading toward the forest. She was done here, but a dark little place in her mind knew that she wouldn't be done with this gold haired prima dona.

---

"That wasn't an order. I was giving you a tip, you twit."

Weiss completely ignored her, as if he didn't hear her. Frankly, he didn't care about her nor have time to argue. He also thought it was petty that she had to insult him to get her point across, yet he said nothing...


"Unless you have a genuine reason for thinking negatively of me, I won't waste my time."

This time, Weiss sneered. "I suppose I don't have a genuine reason, according to you, and it's just petty reasoning. My father and mother were killed in the war, because you allowed the humans to buy your weapons." He said, spitting the word out as if it were an insult. "Because of that, my twin sister and I have lived as orphans for twelve long years, fending for ourselves in a corrupt and dangerous city. Of course, you don't care. Everyone has a sob story, why should it concern you." He squinted his eyes, "It's not like you care about others."

"Onii-sama, kyuusai nante iranai." Shiro said.

Weiss smiled at this and nodded at this. "Iie, we don't." He turned to his younger twin sister. "Arigato ne. Kite kudasai." And with that, the two of them began walking away from William.

---

There was a great deal many things he could have retorted with. The white-haired man should have at least taken the side of the pacifist, as that wasn't blatantly hypocritical. But instead, he took the side of the racist, and that did happen to irritate William if only a little. This line in particular revealed all of the man's hypocrisy and racism, without any need to think too hard about it.

"My father and mother were killed in the war, because you allowed the humans to buy your weapons."

It was always expected that when you were a part of a weapons industry, you would take some of the blame for someone's death, or some military-related incident. That's not to say it ever made much sense to William or his family, but it was expected. People always had this habit of finding someone to blame for something, and when it came to weapon-related deaths, the people who made that particular weapon were always second-in-line, behind the murderer, for the blame. And when people couldn't find the murderer, or they just needed more blame to be pushed around? They went right to the source of the weapon. On multiple occasions, across the long time that the Abrams had been making weapons, they either received hate-mail or assassination attempts for their work. This never discouraged them, and it obviously hadn't resulted in William's death, either. What it did do, was allow William to completely realize his stance on this particular subject. His stance was this; Guns don't kill people. People kill people. Certainly wasn't original, but it did not have to be. He wanted to continue making the best weapons, and if anyone really wanted to stop him, they'd be better off getting rid of the reason for weapons: war. But the digression ends here. There's something important to point out.

While the end result of him being blamed for deaths was always constant, the justification was not. You had people who simply didn't like the idea of a job where you made things that harmed people, the pacifists, and you also had the people who were just looking to blame someone for their loved one's deaths, the 'idiots', as William called them. At least he could understand the pacifists. The so-called idiots were just beyond him, however. He didn't like how they would always seem to accuse him of being selfish while not even trying to hide their hypocrisy, and this man here today was one of those people. He accused William of his parent's murder because the Abrams sold to both races, not just one. It wasn't the fact he sold weapons, it was the fact he sold weapons to the opposing side. How racist and shallow. William couldn't really deny being only concerned with himself, but at least he was open about it. But this man was nothing more than a racist, and it did sicken William.

Fortunately, however, this man wasn't anything special. He was one of many, and the only thing that separated him from the many others that Abrams encountered before was the fact he was certainly alive as of right now. So, William did not visibly show anything more than a smirk as the man turned around. He could've definitely brought up the man's hypocrisy right then and there, but that'd be more work than it was worth. He could do what he wanted and be racist somewhere else, and hopefully, his parents were just as racist as he was, otherwise they'd have been disappointed. And, unlike William, it would seem he actually cared what his parents thought of him, since he could emotional over their deaths. But again, William did not care much for needless chatter. There was something much, much more important he should look into, and he planned on doing so. So, without so much as a word, William started off in the direction the woman, Hall, had mentioned earlier.

"Hall?"

The name brought a very familiar feeling with it. Without further thought about the other man, William retrieved the Arcana and started the search. He found a name he recognized almost instantly.

General Oreron Hall of the Ivory Claws

Status: Deceased Confirmed living, MIA

Age: 38

Whereabouts: Last seen killing high-ranking members of of the Red Talon clan

By far the most famous, or infamous, Hall in the bloodline. Widely known as a man that was more bloodthirsty beast than Neco, he was well known for building tech that could rival that of the mass produced Abrams tech, some say he did in terms of his stealth armor. However, his real achievement was in the field, some stories saying he took on an entire army single handedly. It was thought that he died after being found with who seemed to be his wife in a sapien village by being mutilated, but reports have stated that he is indeed alive. The report that made everyone realize this was a video of him brutally killing members of his own clan, seemingly in retaliation of the woman he betrayed them for. This same style of murder was also reported that the clan of the mother of his daughter belonged to either disbanded due to the deaths of their highest ranking members or were killed off as well. It is advised to NOT APPROACHED at any cost.

Children: Owsla Hall (Very Recently confirmed)

"Wait, what? What kind of propaganda is this? Tech that rivals mine? As if I could be matched, and by some beast too!" William grumbled to himself as he walked, obviously too prideful to let that part go. He took notice of the note at the bottom.

-------Children: Owsla Hall (Very Recently confirmed)

It seems that heathen has a first name as well. Although to think that that woman was the daughter of General Hall... Oh well, I ought to keep an eye on her. I haven't an immediate plans to perish until I have finished what I had started.

With more caution in his step than he previously had before, he continued following the directions that Owsla had given to the other two before, and was on his way to meet someone who had been dead at one point. What fun that should be.

Owlsa Hall and Oreron Hall

At the edge of the forest, the speed of the girl in her armor stopped suddenly. Skidding to a halt once under cover of trees, the green skin resided again to a spot on her back and returned her to an upright position. However, the rage from earlier had not subsided at all. As soon as she was out of her armor, she roared in a frenzy and slashed her arm spears into the trees, ripping them down and raked the bark with her blade.

The sheer animosity that she felt at knowing that people like...him existed in the world made her want to gut someone or something. However, that rage soon subsided once she looked down. A squirrel had made it's way across her vision, only to be snatched up by her and it's neck broken. "At the very least we may eat tonight." she muttered, walking away from the tree and walking back toward the lake.

---

Oreron's irritation had subsided. The barking of the dog had stopped and that was good enough for him. He backed off from his curiosity, returning to his side of the lake. He looked around, realizing that he hadn't started any sort of fire. He looked around, spying river rocks and a couple of dry sticks around. It wasn't long before a fire was made as there was many items in their packs that had been massive help. Albeit killing off bandits for their things wasn't all that bad either.

He started to hum as he noticed his daughter returning behind him. "Find anything?" He asked simply, placing his hand on her head. She nuzzled her head into his hand and purred. "Just a squirrel, but I'm about to go fishing anyway.' she said, now feeling a lot better about the day. She handed it over to him, wrapping her arms around the man briefly before letting go, causing the large male to purr as she left go. He nodded, laying back down near the fire as his daughter grabbed a long spear with a tri-pointed. She stripped her armor again before jumping back into the water and disappearing into it murky depths. Oreron himself gave a hardy chuckle as he watched her swim out of sight. He set the squirrel in the fire, causing it to smoke heavily as he watched the lake again. At least the day's been peaceful so far.

Oreron Hall and Owsla Hall

Although the day was going...somewhat easy, Oreron couldn't help but reflect on his past up until now. His own childhood at that. He remembered many of his people, other neco like him. Many of them bigger than most, but normal for him. Playing rough games of tag and hunting small animals for practice before choosing the craft he wanted to learn. Those where better times, times that he wished that he could have raised his own daughter in. However, life did not always plan for a peaceful existence.

Though the sensation of a cold, wet nose once again brought him out of his thoughts and back to reality. He looked up from the lake to find a dog nudging him and then promptly plopping downing in-front of him. He tilted his head, confused for a second. "What is it dog?" he asked as if the german shepard was going to answer him back and then his mind clicked. There was meat on the fire and dogs will come when there is food. Though unfortunately it wasn't his place to give this meat to the stray animal.

"I know that you want....This what you want?" he said pulling out a piece of dried meat from his pocket and waved it around as if it were a toy.

"Fatha? Where'd the dog come from?" Oreron's attention shifted instantly from the canine to his daughter walking out of the water with three large fish skewered on her spear.

"It's the guys dog from down the way." Oreron answered pointing to his left as he set the piece down in front of the dog.

Owsla shrugged. "He is awful cute though." she mussed as she crouched down and started to pet the creature.

"I'd be car-" Oreron stopped himself and sighed as owsla took to the dog with glee and pet its ears and back. "At least he hasn't bitten you."

Ember held so still, as if one move could shatter her. "Oh um...I'm j..just suprised I bumped into you again." Ace stammered, stumbling over his words awkwardly. "Are you no longer with your boyfriend?" He questioned with a curious glare. Ember was too surprised, nearly shocked by the sudden turn toward Gabriel. What made it even worse was that Ace was calling the bumbling and idiotic albino her Boyfriend. She could do better then that jackass!

"CAN'T I GET SOME KIND OF PEACE HERE?!"

Ember nearly had a heart attack at the sudden shout. She was unprepared for it, and wasn't even able to react like she would have. She just stood there like statue, not knowing what to do or even how to act. Obviously Ace had thought they had some sort of friendly relationship, and had expected more from her, and... Ember couldn't understand the warmth building in her chest. What is this?...

"Quiet boy...QUIET. You are the reason why he is yelling do you even realize that?" The blonde held a light, handsome yet uncomfortable grin."I apologize Sir." Ember watched Ace closely, and couldn't help but think, He's still kind and polite.

"I guess you want to be left alone Ember. Sorry for disturbing you. By the way, I quite like your hair that length...Um..not that my opinion really matters of course. If it is a trouble for you, you could cut it I guess." The warmth increased tenfold at his words. Ember was confused at this. Why is.. feeling this way? When Ace turned to leave, she finally snapped out of it and put her energy sword away, and her stance was... Well it was still that of a person ready to move at any moment, but it wasn't as if she was about to snap at any minute. Her face was full of emotion, full of life, and she was so angelic.

"Ace, wait, please..." She stopped there, at a loss for words. It was then that she noticed that the dog was missing.

With the sudden disappearance of the dog, Ember was able to find her words again. "I apologize for my coldness, and it so seems your companion has gone missing." Her face was once again a cool mask that was somewhat more livelier then her face from before. She glanced at where the shouting had come from and saw... The dog with the two beings. "Your dog seems to have made some friends. Shall we go and retrieve him?" The 'We' slipped in, and she didn't know what that came from, but as she already said it, she may as well do so. She started striding toward the dog and two people.

---

"What is it dog?"
"I know that you want....This what you want?"

Yes mister. You know mister yes. Champ once again pounced up onto his legs, clumsily snapping at the piece of meat in his hand and growling playfully; though he seemed to be quite careful about not accidently catching the strangers flesh. The canine finally managed to tug the food from his palm and ate it happily, appearing very satisfied and rather greatful of the gift. So good yes.

"Fatha? Where'd the dog come from?"
"He is awful cute though."

Champ stood to attention and raised his tail high, though did not begin reacting loudly like usual as she showed no signs of any aggression. Once she began petting him however he seemed to melt happily in her fingertips. Female so soft. Oh. He nudged closer into her shins, relaxed and panting happily, almost begging to be touched more. Soft hands yes.

~~~

The fact that she did not answer his question about Gabriel made Ace somewhat curious. Though since she clearly did not want to talk about it and neither seemed in the mood to have anyone bother her, he let it drop. What made him even more curious was why she was so on edge? Of course the blonde could confirm from his memories that Ember was a trained killer, and her instincts made her somewhat this way, but this paranoia seemed rather extreme.

"Ace, wait, please..."

He halted around and turned to face the female, a smile automatically growing on his lips at the sight of her cooling her temper by quite a amount. He was both pleased for her sake and his own safety that she had adjusted. "Yeah? What is it?" Ace questioned softly.

"I apologize for my coldness, and it so seems your companion has gone missing."
"Your dog seems to have made some friends. Shall we go and retrieve him?"

"It's okay. Being honest I expect nothing but coldness in a world like this." The Neco told her, his voice turning rather low as is usually did with any mention of the war or on going violence. He hated what was happening. At her second comment the male scanned the area around him before letting quite quiet curse slip from under his breath; it was clear he did not particularly enjoy swearing but sometimes he did let his tongue slip. "Oh for crying out loud. He could get himself killed, or kill them! I actually don't know which is worse." He sighed while jogging after the brunette, Elk carcass pressing down on his spine. "CHAMP!..." Ace cried out as the pair headed in the strangers direction.

---

Owsla Hall

Age: 17

Status: Alive

Whereabouts: Assumed traveling with Oreron Hall, her father.

A child of Oreron Hall, many stories surround her birth and life for very little is known aside from her being his biological child. What is known is her self-styled title among bandits groups that fear her as she has being some of the cause of the recent decline in bandit activity: Princess with One Thousand Enemies and Daughter of the Beast. She is known for her quick wit and seeming lack of knowledge of neco that live in civilized areas as she was not raised in the normal Hall tradition. However, it is still advised that she not be taken lightly for it is not known how deep her wildness festers with the mix of her upbringing and the primal instincts that bubble within her.

Children: unknown: possibly none.

Hmm, lets do another search.

>Google images....
>Safesearch "off"
>Search

........Woahoho! Owsla, I didn't know you posed for such a magazine~

As you could probably guess, William had decided to gather as much information on the Halls as he could using the Arcana, in order to make sure he did not miss anything important when dealing with the father of that woman. He had heard some tales about Oreron before, but at the time he had more interest in finishing a design to one of his weapons, so he'd not paid too much attention. Nonetheless, he had a general idea of the man. Strong, cruel, fearsome. It was enough to inspire William to investigate the man, so that was a small feat in and of itself. When he reached an article about Owsla, he couldn't help but glance over it a few times.

'Princess'? Fwahaha! It would be hard for even someone such as myself to properly imagine that woman fitting the description! I can't even see her in a dress!

William was, of course, on his way to meet with this Oreron, who was assumed to be dead at one point, only he wasn't entirely following the directions Owsla had given them. Upon noticing he'd be traveling with those other two people if he did, he opted to forge his own path forwards, and as long as he had the general idea which direction he should head in, he would be fine, or so his pride had told him. So he walked. His feet crushed some twigs and the sort as he walked, and because he wasn't paying too much attention to his steps, an audible crack could be heard every time. He had no obvious reason to be watching his footsteps. It would be better if people knew where he was, and he did not feel like accidentally upsetting Oreron, should they bump into each other. People sneaking around were suspicious, and stealth wasn't William's specialty to begin with. So, he moved on without much concern.

This place was very hot. Perhaps it was because of what the gold-headed man was wearing, but he felt overheated. He wore, as of now, a white undershirt and a black jacket with matching pants. These clothes looked expensive and as though they there had never been any wear or tear to them at all. As though he'd just stepped out of a mansion. But that is because the man had to make sure he looked good. Well, he always looked good, but he wanted to make sure his CLOTHES looked good too. As a lake came into view, so did a campfire, and around it, people. He figured he had reached the correct location.

Abrams, being the professional he is, had little interest in the opposite sex until his work was done, it should be mentioned. Though he treated all his sexual encounters as nothing more than mere play, he also did not have any form of addiction to it, and his personality was not perverted either. In short, he did not see women as 'women' until, of course, he was not busy with adjusting or otherwise improving or inventing new weapons. This all being said, it was obviously merely just chance that the first person William noticed was the naked Owsla. He gazed upon her without any visible lust, though he did happen to take note of her body, and how well-conditioned it was ---- for a heathen. This gaze lasted a mere second at most before he nonchalantly turned his eyes past the dog she was currently petting and towards the being near her.

Oreron Hall? Quite an imposing stature.

"Fwahaha! What a beast of a man!" he exclaimed without fear, assuming they wouldn't be surprised by his entrance. He didn't try to hide his approach, after all. "I take it I have found Oreron Hall? I have non-violent business I would like to discuss with you."

Oreron Hall and Owlsa Hall

The hall's heads turned at the same time alike predictors aiming for pray at the sound of a wounded animals. Oreron set his sighs on the man that had called him a beast and requested "non-violent business" with him. This made him roll his eyes as it sounded like the days where weapon makers were coming to discuss a new weapon that the clan had bought. He remembered that this lead to one of two things: Either the man that came insulted him and would up in the infermery within the moment or they were so frightened of him that they barely spoke while he gave his opinion of said weapon calmly and professionally as well. By the tone of his voice and the seeming mix of confidence and arrogance in the way he carried himself, not to mention the man looked very out of place in a forest no less, that the outcome might be close to the first.

On Owlsa's end, the sound of someone calling a foreign name was what turned her head toward that direction. Having now crouched down to give the dog a belly rub, she looked toward them and then to the dog and quickly connected the dots. "Looks like your man's here puppy." she said as she and Oreron looked back at each other.

"Let me deal with this clown. No one looks for a dead man with out a reason."

"Yeah, I think the dog belongs to that guy over there. I'll get it. By the way, that guy over is an ass." Owsla pointed toward William, which made the larger man raise his eyes in understanding. the both nodded to each other as they both stood and walked to their respective business.

---

Oreron got up to his feet and cracked his neck, his large stature coming to full form as he watched the blonde come forward. "Watch your words, I'm not in the mood for city folk." he said, his eyes scanning the other male up and down. I didn't realize that blonds were this common... by the look of this man, he was either overly confident that he could survive so far out from the city in his outfit and no gear that he was just that stupid or he was bluffing and had his weapons stashed somewhere else.

"I will warn you now. If you are here to take me in, I will fight to my dying breath. If you are here to take my maiden, then I will break you and leave you here for the ravens. If you are here to proposition me to rebuild the clan I brought to its knees than I have no interest. I just want to live my life without any other issue. Now what is it that you want Abrams?" he said, not only setting his terms clearly, but calling him out as well. He had a look of annoyance and irritability, dark rings under his eyes from days of no sleep, but it didn't stop him of letting out a low snarl.

"And before you roll out the red carpet for yourself, How I know is that you look like someone from Abrams that I put in the hospital years ago, either your uncle or your father since you look like them." he crossed his arms and cracked his head again waiting for a response.

---

Owsla stood and smiled as she stopped petting the German Shepard. When it came to animals, the larger ones almost always had her respect or her adoration in the case of her thinking they were cute. However, she was one for returning said animals to their owners. It wasn't like she was that heartless.

"Don't worry, your puppy's a sweetheart!" she called out walking towards them. She looked them both up and down, feeling a ping of familiarity from them. The female, she couldn't put her finger on, but the male screamed of someone she knew. Yes, he had the gold hair of the asshole that she had met earlier, but something made her feel...at home.

This made her walk right up to the male's face, living little space between him and herself as she tapped her foot in thought and purred. Then it hit her like a body blow from her father. She reeled back and wrapped her armed around him and the elk on his back, nearly lifting them both and laughing. "Goldie! How've ya been buddy?!" she exclaimed, squeezing his waist and nearly jumping in joy.

Ember stopped a few meters away from the two people. A sense of familiarity hitting her when she looked at Oreron. It appears to be some sort of reunion for the three of us. "Don't worry, your puppy's a sweetheart!" she called out walking towards them. She turned her gaze on Owsla. Her hand twitched as if it had been going for her energy sword. It made her uncomfortable, to know that this creature could so easily kill Ace, but no do anything about it without causing trouble. She reeled back and wrapped her armed around him and the elk on his back, nearly lifting them both and laughing. "Goldie! How've ya been buddy?!" she exclaimed, squeezing his waist and nearly jumping in joy.

Instinct made Ember narrow her eyes, a silent crackle of energy making her take a step away from Ace. It would not be a great idea to lunge forward and slide a dagger into the girl's bac- Control yourself. Ember turned away from the happy couple beside her, as happiness always tended to be... uninteresting, repelling.. She glanced over at Oreron, and saw that he appeared to be dealing with someone he did not like. She slid away from Ace's side, knowing that at least the dog would warn her if someone was going to attempt to kill the blonde man, and over to Oreron's side.

"-either your uncle or your father since you look like them." he crossed his arms and cracked his head again waiting for a response.

Ember glanced at the reason for Oreron's sudden aggressive body language. He was a blonde, and from afar could easily be mistaken for Ace. Like twins- an Angel and a Demon. Now why would I compare him to Ace? He obviously has killed people. Nothing like the naive anime-like blonde boy over there. She didn't dare turn her back on the Devilish-Ace before her.

From his stance, she could tell he was fearless (at the moment), and arrogant as he appeared stupid enough to annoy Oreron. Ember didn't say anything as Oreron appeared to be handling himself just fine.

---

Considering he had business with the woman's father, William had been benevolent enough to ignore what Owsla had stated as she dared point her finger at him. He briefly wondered if she had grown up in the forest with her manners, but upon thinking about it, he realized that technically that was true. More importantly, now that the man was standing up, his entire being visible, William could tell even more so that this man probably scared more than half his foes to death before actually killing them. That being said, William still felt caution and nothing more than that.

"Watch your words, I'm not in the mood for city folk." Oreron said before eyeing William with no intentions on hiding it, it seemed. William was confidently grinning, unfazed by this.

"I have no such intention of wasting much of your time, I assure you, General Hall."

Oreron continued. "I will warn you now. If you are here to take me in, I will fight to my dying breath. If you are here to take my maiden, then I will break you and leave you here for the ravens. If you are here to proposition me to rebuild the clan I brought to its knees than I have no interest. I just want to live my life without any other issue. Now what is it that you want Abrams? And before you roll out the red carpet for yourself, how I know is that you look like someone from Abrams that I put in the hospital years ago, either your uncle or your father since you look like them."

Clearly this man had dealt with people like William before. Well, perhaps 'similar' would be a better word, as nobody was 'like William Abrams', as you must know. Abrams let out a hearty laugh before replying. "In the Abrams family, members were only given money from their respective contracts, for the most part. So while 'the Abrams' were very wealthy as a family, only those who put effort into further improving the family name were paid. And, of course, if you made money some other way, you kept it to yourself.

If I recall correctly - which I certainly do - I am sure a great deal many people would pay handsomely, even now, for your capture, whether it be dead or alive. For those who didn't provide the family with revenue, that would be a very tempting catch..." his tone almost sounded threatening, but went back to its arrogant and playful nature immediately. "I made a majority of the weapons that the Abrams produced since I was born unlike my uncle, so I do believe you're referring to him, since he was a poor individual within the family. As for myself, I have absolutely no interest in stirring up trouble with a renowned general if I needn't. What you and..." William, using all of his concentration and power not to outright insult the general's daughter, continued after a brief pause. "...your daughter do doesn't matter to me. I simply would like to ask a question or two."

Despite it being in the middle of a forest, next to a lake, and the hideout of a infamous general, William found this place to be a bit crowded. Firstly, there was this woman who seemed to be eyeing him as he talked to Oreron. She wasn't bad looking by any means, and something in his gut told him she wasn't delicate at all. Then, of course, was a blonde man whom seemed to be the owner of the dog that Owsla was petting when he arrived. He had what was probably going to be his dinner on his back and the gut feeling William got simply by glancing over the man was that he seemed to be the lacking in confidence, or so his stance and mannerisms told Abrams. Plus, there was to be the other two people from before if they were going to follow Owsla's directions. Too many people to deal with right now, so he might as well get over.

"I won't waste any more of your time, so tell me... Have you encountered anybody, or group attempting to get you to join them?" his tone dropped any playfulness it may have had before. It would be clear to anyone he was serious about this matter, but that was already obvious given that he was essentially grasping at straws to find information about them. "They're likely responsible for the murder of my family and the seizure of my estate. I am not well-versed in what groups still remain after the end of the war, but I assume any group that would attack the Abrams would want someone like you in their ranks."