"That's not even where that goes!" Criston yelled, running over to the workers who were putting together the new building. It was a meeting place for the group to use as well as a training facility for those who wanted to use it. It was all self-serve though he assumed Annie would be willing to help anyone wanting it.

"How's it going?" Maria asked, rounding the corner. She'd just come from seeing Brako off, the poor sob. It would take him at least a few days to reach the dragon nation and they agreed that he would take it slow to avoid overtaxing himself.

"Hey Mom. It's been better. They have a hard time listening, but it'll be done in the next day or two. Just putting on the final touches, yanno?" He explained, smiling as he turned to look at her. The smile faded, however, at her expression. "Hey, hey! What's wrong?" He asked, rushing over to grab her face and force her to look at him. Her eyes were red, something very uncharacteristic for Maria Cross.

"I'm fine, Criston. However, we need to carry out what we talked about yesterday." She told him, brushing him away. She wasn't in the mood to be taken care of, she needed her moment. "I hope you can take care of it. I'm going to go visit him." She told him, already walking off, headed towards the coast.

"It's... hitting her pretty hard... But still... Who is he?" Criston spoke aloud before being interrupted by a loud yell. He huffed and rolled his eyes before going to help the poor soul.

---

A few hours later, Criston found himself seated in the community inn, a well known meeting place for the Athalia group. Those willing to help were invited to meet him tonight. It wasn't for another hour or so, but Criston wanted to go ahead and be here. The new meeting place was almost done and he didn't really want to go back to his own home. Britnia might be waiting for him there and there was no telling what she would want him to do. He'd have to go home eventually...

He sighed and took another sip of the beer in front of him. He hoped that he had the fluency of words to get everything he needed to get across across clearly. They didn't need everyone to go, but it would certainly help.

...What was wrong with his mother? He hadn't seen her act like herself since they'd come here. She put on a good game face for the old students and some of the new, but he saw the sides of her no one else saw, sides he never thought he would see. Part of him wanted to ask what was wrong but the other part of him knew she needed her space. She looked... so much older now and she'd lost a lot of weight.

Criston swallowed another sip of beer and set the glass down to run his finger through his long white hair. Since the attack, he hadn't cut it. He'd decided to keep it long as a testament to the oath he made to get back at Marcus for everything he'd done.

Carmen sat in her pride and joy, the little fashion shop that was a hidden jewel in a nation of fashion shops. Business had been unusually slow today, so she had been given (for better or for worse) time to sit and ponder.

It had been years since the Academy had been destroyed, but it felt like yesterday. It was full of so many memories and wonderful experiences, all vaporized in an instant. Carmen had been very unsure where life would take her afterwards, even though she had much more of a fallback than many of the other students - and, of course, she had survived. That fallback turned out to be vital to the survival of the remainder of Athalia's population, and was where they all were now.

But for Carmen, it was more than just a place to run.

As she grabbed her purse and her trumpet and walked out the door of her shop, she looked around and smiled. Oasari was a beautiful place outside of monsoon season, and today was exceptionally picturesque. The sun was out, the sky was clear, the birds were singing and the town hugging the side of a mountain was chirping with activity. As Carmen walked past more shops and things, she turned her head to the right to bask in a view she had never tired of: down in the distance, glistening brightly, was Crystal City, Oasari's capital. She found herself stopping to admire it like she always ended up doing, soaking in the crisp mountain air, and finally continuing her walk.

It was a walk she had become familiar with not since Athalia was destroyed, but before she even knew Athalia existed; this town was not only a refuge for Athalian immigrants, but a special place for its one Athalian non-immigrant: it was Carmen's home. And as she walked down its winding streets, Carmen realized that coming home was the best possible place she could have gone, both for its sentimental value and her ability to store her entire fashion collection in a way she was satisfied with (she realized this about twice a week).

The town, located in the mountains northeast of the coastal capital, hugged the mountain side like a terrace farm. Winding streets made of cobblestone zigzagged up and down the sloped settlement, dividing rows of shops and houses either buried into the earth like they were in the Shire or hanging off the side, watching over the terrace level below. Two story buildings did both, having an entrance on both levels. The roads and rows of buildings all centered around the town square, the one completely flat location in the town. Closed to automobile traffic, the pedestrian zone featured an open space with the town's best restaurants on one side, an open vista overlooking the valley on which the capital city sat at the bottom, and a beautiful fountain in the middle. The fountain's water was purified, and people could freely take a cup and drink from it. The town had a unique charm all its own, and was a frequent destination for Oasarians and mainland Lavanyan tourists alike.

After Carmen returned from Athalia, she had been welcomed as a heroine of sorts, and was a prominent figure in the town's (and indeed all of Oasari's) culture. She hadn't decided yet whether or not to go on this big adventure to stop Marcus, but she figured it would be good to show up to the meeting at the inn to see exactly what was up. Of course, she had a lot of reason to want to take down Marcus, but just as much reason to stay and defend her town and country in case Marcus decided to invade. Why he hadn't yet she had no idea, but Oasari had become the one place of refuge for those wanting to escape Marcus' grasp. She wondered about who else would show up and indeed who would go. There were plenty of old faces and several new ones, but even more present were those faces not there. Remembering those who fell, many of which she knew, to Marcus in the attack brought her back to reality as she neared the inn.

Walking into the inn, Carmen saw that it was mostly empty, save for one long-haired fellow she recognized. She went to the bar and ordered her special drink, the Skylark cocktail. Once she got it, she walked over to Criston and sat down, placing her cocktail on the table and her trumpet standing up on the floor next to her. She hadn't seen much of Criston back at the Academy, but had seen him frequently in town since they had arrived. "I am amazed that I'm one of the first ones here," she remarked. "That's just...well, it just doesn't happen." She sat back and took a sip of her drink, knowing that Criston would speak if he wanted to.

Meanwhile, a certain kitsune sat in the corner, brooding as usual.

Light. Rebirth. Cosmic Divinity. These were the thoughts that came to mind when Grimm noticed the Soul of the Slylark earlier that day, a fleeting glimose into a world h coukd barely comprehend that had sparkedba riaring inferno of artistic inspiration in him. He'd stayed on the roof of the opposing building, hidden in the shadows as he used his Reaper's eyes to viewnher soul if the fire began to dwindle, or if he just wanted to bask in the radiance of it. And there he stayed for hours until the Skylark decided to go somewhere. He followed at a fair distance, hopping from rooftop to rooftop until she came to her destination, a local inn of some sort. Something about it tickled at his memory, but he'd have time for that later. Now he was too focused on capturing the soul before him on his paper.

He entered the Inn silently, took a seat not too far away from the kitsune present, and continued the process. Ye had moved on from the pencil stage a while ago and was now in the process of inking the piece, already planning on which among the plethora of colors and techniques he had at his disposal he would be using when he began to color it. He still looked up every few minutes as he did so, ice blue spheres glowing softly in the darkness of his ragged black hood.

Grim was technically not wearing anything right now, dressed in only his Reaper Cloak, which was his basically soul, and thus, technically not clothing. He currently had it formed arou d him in a garb of black leather shirt with a dull sheet of metal coverung his vitals, leather leggings with similar greaves and boots, none of which made a sound when he moved,,almost as if he wasn't even their. His hood was worn-looking, ripped and ragged at the edges with several holes throughout it. Most strangely of all, the cloak was moving, slowly yes, but still easily noticeable with the way the fabric was undulating and writhing around his form, like it was a live almost.

"First day back in the realm of the living and already I find such an inspiring subject. Maybe this whole venture isn't a complete waste of time." Grimm engaged in one of his less sociable habits, thinking out loud, which was a product of him spending unhealthy periods of time with virtually no one else but himself to talk to. "I just hope that there won't be any annoyances aming the group whenmwe go to face this Marcys guy. Isn't there a meeting about that today and if do, shouldn't I be heading over there . . . fuck it, I've got time. Can't even remember where the place is anyway."

@Driving Park

@Masaki HarunaPosted

Criston let out a small huff as a smile grew on his face at the voice he heard. "Carmen. It's nice to hear your voice." He greeted her, looking over to grin at her. "It is indeed strange for you to be one of the first ones here. Then again, a lot of thing are different now, yeah?" He added, chuckling. He let out a small sigh before sipping some more of his beer.

"Mom's out of town for a few days. She'll be back soon, she just had some stuff to do. How's Lily? Last I saw her, she still wasn't taking any of this very well. The flowers seem to be a help though." He explained, ending with a question about Lily, who was currently helping with closing up the flower shop. He scanned the room out of the corner of his eyes and noticed a few more had come in, one of which had seemed to be here for a while, Mizuki. He smiled and sent her a small wave before focusing on the other one. It was... Grimm, right? They'd found him a while ago and he'd joined their cause, though most people did. Another smile and wave was sent their way before he turned back to listen to Carmen.

@Driving Park
@Raijinslayer

---

Meanwhile, Lily was hard at work closing up the flower shop, doing the things the shop keeper had told her to do... She was giving the flowers one last shower before she locked the doors when she felt the tremors. Small... Small tremors. She looked down to see the water shaking slightly.

"What's wrong?" She asked aloud, looking down at the water. One emotion was sent to her, panic. But what for? She sighed and set the thought aside for now. She'd tell Criston about it later. She wanted to go to the meeting but part of her was stopping her, the part of her that wanted nothing to do with it all.

Sighing, Lily put the hose away and left the shop, locking the door behind her. Then, she made her way for the small apartment complex Maria had set up for the lot of them. Carmen and herself were, once again, roommates. She was probably at the meeting right now. She sighed and with a quick glance at the Inn, Lily made her way up the street towards her apartment.

It had been a while since Joseph had left the island, and he'd gotten used to the faster lifestyle of the mainland. Perhaps a little too well, but it didn't bother him that much. A part of him asked if he moved on from the deaths of his family and friends a bit too quickly... after all, it hadn't even been a year yet. Did he even care? Did he mourn adequately for the dead?

As far as Joseph was concerned, it was better to forget these things and move on. Dwelling on the past usually led to inaction, depression. He didn't want to be a useless piece of trash. His work as a mechanic helped him avoid that fate. Fixing machines granted him a purpose in life, and helped focus his mind on something productive. And now, Joseph might be able to fight again. He made the mistake before, he wouldn't do it again.

Walking into the inn, Joseph found it almost empty. There was someone in the corner, probably being the dark, moody, "I was born in the darkness" type, but the bar was populated by two people. One was a female, long haired, copper blondish. The other was a male, with long, flowing white hair. Seems like he was a bit early, or didn't get the memo that the meeting was canceled. Taking a seat at the bar, he ordered some whisky. The bartender gave him his simple drink within seconds, and Joseph took a few sips. He looked 21, and they never actually really checked ID, so it was their loss. The two at the bar seemed to be striking up their own conversation, so he ignored them for now.

Joseph gestured to the figure in the back. "Yo Ms.Mystique! No need for ya to be all the way back there. Meeting's over here. I'll buy you a drink too, so pretty please?"

Oliver rubbed at his eyes and with a sigh he pushed away from his desk. the rough draft of the newspaper he and his wife ran was sitting in front of him. he'd been up all night and it still wasn't ready. he wasn't sure where Scillia was but he needed a break so he decided to go find her. he rolled out the doors, that had been, kindly enough, built with him in mind. a few employees were trickling in, a few were trickling out, looking just as exhausted as he felt.
he stopped one "have you seen Scillia?" he shook his head. Oliver sighed "thanks" and he rolled over to the small kitchenette before remembering the counters were a bit tall for him. he huffed a little and went back into the main room and looked around. he wasn't sure where she had gone.

It had been a long time since Athalia burned, but as he looked around he honestly sometimes forgot that. some of these people were still feeling the effects of it. Oliver himself was still recovering. as he rolled along he could acutely feel the scar across his abdomen, it still hurt sometimes. this place wasn't the same. Athalia had been like home, and he knew that this should be, but he just didn't feel it. it was like the school would always be his home, even if it wasn't there anymore.

he rolled out the door carefully and glanced around."Scillia!"

Zivon sighed as he looked outside the window of his home...well it was a tiny shack but that what you get are unable to live in a place with stairs. It was kind of dingy but it was stable and at least felt home like and safe. How long has it been since the attack? Five years...it felt like just yesterday when it happened and the memories still shook him deeply. Lsing the ability to walk, losing con act of his dad...it hurts but he was still going. Maybe it time to go outside, been a while since he went out...and he was low on food, he sighed and got ready. A small bag and his wallet in his hands he left his home. The town was very pretty it calmed him...things have truly changed since the lines of the events.

He walked well moved since he couldn't walk anymore he only had his wheelchair to rely on, sure there was some technology that can help him better but...he didn't want to use it. Going the streets he wasn't sure on what to get, maybe more fruit and buy some more tea packets...green tea and maybe jasmine as well. That sounded good probably, he was going there until he reached a very small park, it had a couple of benches, a drinking fountain and swings and was surround by trees.

Maybe a small stop wouldn't hurt and besides...he got all the time he got and nothing was really gonna stop him. Moving towards the swings he touched the chains that lifted up the seat. Easy to rust... Zivon looked at his bandaged hands, he wasn't injured no it was...well it made him feel safer to wear gloves and bandages on his hands. It doesn't really changed anything with his ability but it still made him feel safe. He lifted himself up form the wheelchair to the swim seat. He was strong enough to move well to another seat close by and he wasn't that heavy at all to lift himself up slightly. Sitting down on the swing, he almost look like a child well a teenager at least. It was quiet and peaceful...calming...he smiled slightly and hummed a small tune.

Scillia

Scillia pushed herself up off her knees when she heard her name being called. Brushing the dirt from her pants and taking off her gloves, she left the small garden where she grew her herbs and walked through a side door into the building.

"Yes dear?" she asked, crossing the distance and putting a hand on Oliver's shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze, "What did you need?"

Sharon

Sharon seemed to melt out of the shadows beside Criston. "Quite the turnout you have so far," She said sarcastically, taking a seat next to the white haired boy. She ordered a drink from the bar with a wave of her hand, and settled back into her chair, rubbing the side of her head through the blindfold. "These damn eyes are giving me migraines lately. It's too bad you don't carry aspirin on you."

Tsai was not having a good time. She'd left the shop before closing time today (which was a rarity) to run an errand or two, but on her way back she'd been ambushed. By children. One of the endless annoyances of living in towns was that no matter what she did, or where she went, children flocked to her. They were entranced by the girl with flowers in her hair and petals painted into her skin, the one who carried herself like a grown up and did grown up things and spoke grown up words, but was their size. Tsai absolutely loathed it. Her aggravation was only compounded by the way the trees and flowers whispered in nervous anticipation. Something was coming.

They laughed as they pulled her through the town, whispering like the little schemers they were. Tsai wasn't about to be caught doing something as demeaning as fighting off a mob of kids… not that she'd be able to anyway. The dryad was many things, but strong was not one of them. Letting acid seep through her skin was always an option. It would serve these kids right if they got a blistering rash. But then they'd start crying and their parents would be upset, and if there was anything Tsai found more annoying than brats tugging her every which way, it was how obnoxious their parents could get if anyone dared touch their 'precious babies.' Tsai wanted to scoff at that. They'd touched her first.

Besides, these kids had been burned before. Now they knew to grab her over the fine cloth of her sleeves.

The children pulled her to one of the local inns. Apparently it was their favorite. Something about always getting free desserts because the bartender couldn't resist them. Sneaky little demons. They went through the door, and Tsai scanned the room. It was just the usual bunch of unimpressive patrons, but then her gaze fell on an odd little group. Most of them were unfamiliar, but she recognized at least two as people who'd stopped by the flower shop to visit the girl Tsai'd hired to deal with the people part of the business. There was the man with long silver hair, and the blonde girl with a voice like music. She'd never cared to learn their names.

She caught their eyes as she passed them, the children still pulling her by her arms.

"Remove them," she demanded. And then they were tugging her to the bartender, who cooed and laughed, offering them pudding.

@HylianRose@Driving Park

Grim didn't acknowledge Criston greeting, mostly because he was too focused on his drawing. He didn't even notice the gaggle of noisy brats that seemed to be dragging in a rather annoyed Dryad, the being's soul told him anything. What he did notice was one of the little brats bumping into him, causing his oh so steady pen hand to scratch across the page, leaving a fine black line right in the middle of his work. He stared in cold silence at the ruined piece, thinking of the many hours he had spent on getting thedetails just right, only for a pack of stupid, ill-behaved brats to ruin it. To say that he was mad would be a vast understatement.

The cloak began to writhe and undulate around in a faster, more active, more sinister fashion as he set his sketchbook down, stalking over to the main group of brats, a cold chill running up their spines as they turned to face him. His face was hidden behind a grotesque a terrifying mask reminiscent of a skull in mid-decay, the exactness and accuracy of such making the children whimper in fright. When he spoke, Grimm's voice would come out both quiet and loud at the same time, distorted by the mask and his rage to sound a lot deepe and menacing than it normally did.

"If you brats value your souls, then you'll get out of my sight befoe I rip them from your putrid excuse for a carcass!" To emphasis the point, he summoned his scythe, which had taken an equally terrifying appearance as it was covered in rotted bones and the blade jutted out of the fanged maw of a monstrous skull, the dead eyes of the beast still in place and looking down at the children with contempt and hunger.

The dreadful sight and threat sent the children out of the inn screaming their bloody little heads off. After they were gone, Grimm calmed himself down, causing both his scythe, his mask, and his cloak to take on a much more plain appearance, with the skull mask becoming vastly simplified and the scythe varing only a plain Ivory shaft and a gleaming silver blade the seemed to radiate a soft, comforting glow. "If there is one thing I hate, it's people who mess up my drawings." His voice was normal now, a smooth one that eased into the ears like a whisper, sticking in the mind a second longer than normal. He then abrutly turned around without a word and walked back to his seat, taking another look at the ruined drawing to see if it could be salvaged in anyway, or if he could make the mistake work for the picture.

@c3p-0h
@chukklehed
@Driving Park
@Nytem4re

Carmen smiled at Criston's response. "Different yes, but so different that I'm early? That's ridiculous!" she exclaimed dramatically, followed by an obligatory flip of the hair. Hearing the question about Lily, she replied: "They do help, but...oh, you know Lily...with water involved you never know what she'll do."

Noting another entrant with silver hair who had sat down near Mizuki, Carmen chuckled slightly as she remembered the kitsune's hot temper and disdain for apparently everyone. There would probably be fireworks soon.

Just then, as the cavalcade of children and a similarly-sized adult descended on the inn, Carmen watched the dryad go past them with intrigue, reacting to her demand with nothing more than a raised eyebrow that seemed to say "Me? You must be joking..."



Meanwhile, Mizuki was having an excellent time brooding in the corner until other people disturbed her.

First, a silver-haired man sat down near her for reasons Mizuki couldn't comprehend, and she promptly ignored him.

Second, Criston gestured at her, to which she gave no response except for a momentary eyebrow twitch up.

Third, another man at the bar made the mistake of attempting to communicate with her. "You're going to have to do a lot better than that," she snarled, her voice dripping with contempt.

Finally, children walked in.

"I HATE chlidren," she remarked out loud. The man who had sat near her apparently did as well, for he promptly drove them out, an event that Mizuki very much enjoyed watching. Her opinion of the man instantly improved by a factor of three thousand.

Nothing like a cold morning for the Ice Princess, enjoying the weather in a frivolous manner is weird yet savoring. Rika stopped spacing out and abide by her destination; "Look what I just reap. An autistic believing he can rip out souls." She insults the guy with the scythe and continue with more. "Magic....Religion tch. People still believe on that? Science is the true key that explains all phenomena. There's no such thing as the reaper for death is only natural among the living." Giving an offending standpoint and explanation to what is seen, she gives the remark like as if it's all science and everything is normal. Unlike the rest of the people, Rika is not amused, she shows no fear as well and her actions speaks for itself.

Then she smiled to the guy as he finally calms down. "Glad you can actually calm down, you're cooler that way." Even Rika herself changed her mood in the an upbeat from aloofness. "People do strange things when they are startled like how one is agitated of what they see, in such term we call it O.C.D or cringe-worthy. Where I come from, creating is better than destroying, it's better to crash the mode because the mode is bad." Rika instantly makes a 15 foot sculpture of ice depicting the silver haired young man carrying his scythe, striking a cool pose like as if he is leading a revolutionary army. "Is everyone cool here?" She asks nicely and her expression shows concern and any innocence from the cold impression she shown.

@RaijinSlayer

Remliel sighed; it was a sigh of boredom, something that she was becoming an increasing constant in her life. She didn't like it, at all. Getting away from her family and clan for awhile was great; a few more years under that terrible atmosphere would've driven her insane, so when her mother made her school away from them, well, it was by far one of the best birthday presents she'd ever recieved. The problem lay in that she wanted to get away not run away from her family. To Remliel, running away implied not returning, and she fully intended to do so, just not as she was now.

The problem was, she couldn't return as she was now. She got away from the clan to alleviate herself from the constantly disappointed atmosphere that was constantly surrounded her there - going back as she was now would just bring about the same results, so what would be the point of coming here in the first place? If Remliel was to return, she would see to it that she could do so with her head held high, not as the same disappointed wreckage that she was. Unfortunately, she was making little headway in that department.

She wasn't able to do anything here, or at least anything that could help her out. School was just that; school. Even if it was a magic-y school. Besides, Remliel sucked at magic. All of them. Nothing would work right for her except Reinforcement, which is a spell only children would use. Basically, Remliel thought that she was unworthy to even think about returning home, but at the same time there wasn't really much she was able to do that would help in getting back.

Remliel once again side as she tossed the boulder she was lifting into the ground nearby.

The small part of the forest she was just training in was wrecked entirely. Trees were uprooted and large patches of ground were dug up. Looking at the collateral damage around her, Remliel shrugged. It was nature, it would grow back at some point.

In a few minutes, Remliel, still a bit sweaty from her workout, jogged to an inn she frequented. She was greeted by a rush of scared and crying children, all of them looking deathly white and terrified as hell. The short girl paused at the entrance, pondering what exactly would bring about such a reaction, before shaking her head and entering the inn.

There she was greeted by a rather gaudy looking girl, who was saying similarly gaudy (and rather provocative) words. Remliel frowned as she listened to her, not really sure what to make out of what she was saying, but her tone got on her nerves; she was never a fan of the whole 'wholier than thou' shtick.

And . . . wait . . . is she seriously harping on magic in a world that was teeming with it? Okay . . . well, that's just bloody brilliant of her.

"Not really to sure about 'cool', but that ice sculpture is in the way, lady, so if you would kindly get it out of the way? Why would you even make a sculpture that big in the middle of an inn? Are you ADHD or something? Maybe autistic?" she said dryly, flinging back the girls words at her and then some.

Sharon

Sharon stood up and sighed, rubbing the back of her head. "It's getting too loud in here for me. I'll be back in..." She paused for a minute, seeming to scrunch her eyebrows under the blindfold, "Two hours. Everything should be calm by then." She pushed away from the table and walked toward the door, passing by the kid reaper on her way.

"You'd better tone it down with the threats by the way kid," She said as she passed, "I know a couple of Psychopomps who'd be happy to set you straight if you get too out of hand. That said, I know a couple of Psychopomps who'd be happy to show you the ropes, if you need instruction." Without any more explanation, she exited the room and walked off down the street, looking for some peace and quiet.

(This post may be subject to change; i'm just putting this out here quickly)



He was technically one year old.

Actually, no; he was technically twenty-one years old, despite being twenty-seven years old.

Was he twenty-seven?

Who knew?

I mean, my status as a twenty-seven-year-old manga fan isn't what I'm worried about; it's mostly about why I can't figure out what I'm exactly supposed to be.

Ryuu Yamauchi had woken up in some sort of capsule a handful of months before he arrived at the town, and getting used to the town also took another handful of months. He felt like he knew what to do, but at the same time, he had no idea on who he once was. Ryuu was aware of the fact that he might not be the person he looks like, and that bothered him to no extent.

Especially considering the fact that he had no idea if the person he was apparently based off of also got into anime just by picking up a battered doujin (a safe-for-work one, of course).

Standing behind a counter in a small anime store set up within a town known as Oasari, a dark-haired man had his arms crossed as he wondered deep in thought, Why are demon girls so sexy?

The answer was probably the thighs. Or maybe the dark skin.

He could stare at demon women's thighs, which were portrayed too beautifully in some cases, all day long. He knew that the probability of meeting a female demon that looked decent would be extremely unlikely, but hell, he could dream all he wanted, right? That's what dreams were for-

No they're not, you Fuckleberry Finn.

The man sighed as he rolled his eyes. He soon found himself staring at a small cabinet. Opening it up, the man took a look at what appeared to be a picture. He quickly slammed the cabinet shut as he proceeded to look disinterested in life yet again, wondering just what kind of scumbag would visit the store to try robbing him of his stuff.

...Okay, so he actually hated the idea of fighting in an anime store. He would hate to see Ayane-chan's face split into multiple pieces, especially considering the fact that she was a part of a special limited-edition blu-ray disc.

Axel J. Black

Axel gave out a long yawn. He was tired. He has been up for about 72 hours straight and he was feeling it. He picked up a large tomato, inspected it for a moment, and placed it in the basket. He was in the middle of grocery shopping for his landlords. They were a nice couple, and very sympathetic towards Axel's story, and they allowed him to live in their guest house rent free if he did all of their chores and errands for them. He didn't actually mind, but the part that made him unhappy was the fact that he had to do everything they asked during the day. Everybody knows most vampires are nocturnal, and he was no different. He grabbed a few more fruits and veggies and went on his way.

He stepped out of the marketplace and instantly regretted it. The sun was out in full force and it took almost an immediate toll on Axel's body. He could feel his strength leaving him, and the bag of food that he had just bought instantly got heavier. Another negative thing about having to work during the day. He slowly moved through the streets, dodging the people, when he came upon the local inn. After a moment of debating, he decided to drop in and have a quick bite to eat. He walked in, grabbed a chair, and asked for a Blood Mary. Once he had received his order, he reached into his pocket and pulled out some little red pills, Dehydrated Blood Substitutes. He dropped them in his drink and began to stir. He took this time to skim the room and see who was there. He saw two other people, a female and a male with longish hair, sitting at the bar. A guy wearing a skull mask and a scythe, and a few others. He had actually stopped paying attention to others when he saw a girl instantly sculpt a giant ice statue of the reaper striking a cool pose. She asked if everyone was 'cool'. Axel didn't find a lot of humor in the pun, but decided to humor her. "Oh yes, very cool. You do this often?" He asked walking up to the statue. He saw his distorted reflection staring him down against the ice. His tattoo on his face, the one that is a symbol of him being exiled from Gortana, was highly prevalent in his reflection.

Tsai was not afraid when the reaper appeared before her gaggle of captors. And she certainly didn't flinch away from the mutated sound of his voice. If it looked like she did, then it was a trick of the candlelight, and the dancing shadows it cast. Screams erupted around her as the children ran away, jostling her about in their frenzy. At least she was rid of them.

Too proud to follow the children out the door, Tsai decided to remain at the inn – at least for a bit. She cast one last look at the reaper, and the attention he'd garnered from a few of the other patrons. Lifting her chin up at them in a dismissive manner, she turned to find an empty table. Before long, she'd ordered a cup of water and a bowl of fruit to nibble on.

"Well shit, you just had to ask if you wanted two drinks ya know." Joseph laughed as he took a few more sips of his whiskey. Other than the guy who needed an exorcism, the copper blonde, and himself, so far, everyone was pretty much salty as fuck. And he supposed he should try to defuse the situation before the cold war escalated into a world war.

"Everybody just calm down." Joseph stood up and began walking towards the ice sculpture. "Now while science can explain almost all phenomena, I'm pretty damn sure that it failed to acknowledge that dragons existed." Joseph smashed part of the sculpture, and grabbed the shattered ice before it fell, placing it in his whiskey. "And yes, while your ice sculpture is magnificent, and is great for ice cubes, it's getting pretty damn cold in here. It would be nice if you could make it disappear with your "science". And there's no need to be calling everyone autistic and OCD or whatever damn disorder you can think of, because I'm pretty sure no one has a PhD in psychology. WebMD does not substitute for an actual psychiatric guys."

Joseph wasn't too sure if he'd helped or just added more salt, but hey, he tried.

"Now I'm sure everyone is here for some kind of meeting, or some semblance of order, so can we just all just wait for someone to start it? And yes, I am mainly talking to the two girls about to have a brawl over the existence of magic. Sit down, drink something. It'll calm the nerves. And it probably would cost less than paying for the entire inn."

Grimm was only partially listening to the voices addressing him, still trying to find a way to make the long line of ink. It took a few minutes of thought, in which he could be heard muttering to himself as he came up with, then reject several ways to salvage the piece, before he stuck to one and made the necessary adjustments. He wasn't happy with it, but it was a better alternative than trying to draw the whole thing over again, which would've ruined the rest of his day. Once he had finished with that he looked up to address the first person to had spoken to him, a girl with green eyes and long dark brown hair. Her soul was somewhat interesting, leaving him with a slight chill, but it didn't inspire him at all. Human souls rarely did, they were just so . . . average most of the time. What was he about to do again, oh yeah, give his response to the girl who'd made a sculpture of him out of ice.

"You seem to be heavily detached from reality, or an idiot, if you can say that while in the same room as a Reaper, a Kitsune, a Dryad, a warlock, an entity born from the energy of a dying star, and a . . .Vampire." His voice instinctively took on a accusatory tone as he identified what many of his kind considered to be an Abomination. The undead were subjects of much debate amongst Reaper circles, many of them wanting to follow their instincts and eradicate the affronts to natural order, others wishing to just leave things be. While Grimm held no personal bias, his blood urged him to stymie this corruption before it spread it's toxin elsewhere. Luckily, he was only half Reaper and the urge was much weaker, but it was still there regardless.

Returning his attention to the girl, he continued his response to her highly inaccurate and severely worrying ideal. "I doubt you're an idiot, given that you've made quite the impressive sculpture, though I do inisist that it doesn't refelect the subject's personality in the slightest, which is something I believe is most important in any artists work; an artistic difference more than anything else, but I still believe it stands. Anyway, since you clearly are suffering from a mental illness of some sort, I'd be welcome escort you to the nearest psychiatric facility, so maybe they can help you in your crippling case of denial." Except for his slip with the vampire, Grimm's tone was neither angered, nor dismissive, nor even sarcastic, he was giving his honest opinion and was genuinely worried for the girl's mental health. Clearly she must be ill to have such a strong denile of cold hard facts and reason, especially when it was staring her in the face.

After he finished talking he got up qnd walked past the girl over to the Skylark, taking the sketchbook from under his arm to show her. While still uncolored, it was obvious to tell it was a very detailed piece of work. It showed Carmen standing in front of a window, appearing as if she was singing to the sky. The room behind her subtly shifting into a blank void of space, soft tendrils of smoke leavingnher body to form a bird-like nebulae of cosmic dust and gases. The black line that had cut across the bird had been turned into the tail of a comet shooting through space in front of the cosmic avian, giving it more depth of field.

"I was wondering something, given that you are a subspecies of Siren, I assume you have a form similar to what is in the picture, so I would like to ask if I may see it. It would very much help me in deciding what colors to use, for I'm at a loss on which ones to use."

@Masaki Haruna
@HeartlessNobody
@Driving Park

"That won't do..." Criston murmured as he listened to the group forming behind him. He closed his eyes for a moment and rubbed the bridge of his nose. They sure didn't make this very easy, did they? Too much bickering going on, far too much. Had it always been this way? He turned to see the room filled mostly with the new-comers and a crease formed between his brows. Where were the others? He let out a soft sigh and looked at to Carmen.

"I don't remember there being this much tension, do you?" He asked her with a small smirk. Then, he turned to face the crowd behind him.

"Welcome, everyone. I'm not sure that everyone is here yet so the meeting won't start for another few moments. Ahh... Try not to blow up or otherwise freeze the inn if you don't mind." He explained, chuckling awkwardly. Jesus, he was shit at this.

"Oh, and I'm Criston Cross, I'll be in charge of the meeting tonight. We'll be heading to a larger room in the inn once everyone is here. Maria, my mother, is currently working on something but she will be back in a few days. If you have questions or just want to chat, I'll be here." He greeted them, waving awkwardly. Yep, this was shit.

He let out another long sigh as he turned back around to his drink. "Tell me that wasn't as shit as I thought it was, Carmen." He breathed, fighting the urge to slam his face against the counter.

@DamnNearEveryone