Setzer Galaband is a pretty nice guy.

A bit of an extrovert, he is comfortable taking hold of a conversation with his smart tongue and well refined cynic's wit. From large groups to smaller clustering of people he seems at home. His personality is a natural lure towards others with his characteristically lopsided grin and general warmth about him. He does not actively seem to search out the spotlight just as home sitting back and listening as he is commanding a conversation but he certainly doesn't seem to mind having it cast upon him. Yet he seems to maintain a underlying cold distance beneath his welcoming warmth and overall charming personality. The curious might notice that while he can spend a large amount of time listening to others about their past and empathize with their plights rarely does he speak of his own history. Though he would quickly brush away such comments with a explanation that his life was a rather boring one. Laid-back and lackadaisical in his mannerism, it's hard to reconcile this image of him with the one that has received his fair share of top marks in classes and tops the leader board in almost every combat simulation at the Citadel.

This divide seems to come most apparent in combat. The warmth drops away to an almost mechanical coolness with every action becoming deliberate and methodical. A sharp contrast to the soldier that was joking with you a mere moment earlier he becomes all business almost solipsistic in his mannerism. The plain truth of the matter is that this side of Setzer is the one that is more truthful to himself. Analytical and abrasive in his actions. He is a perfectionist with standards as high as the ceiling goes and said standards are to be upheld if you want him to really think of you worth your weight. He doesn't have time for those too weak or unwilling to get the job done. They are simply dead weight. Yet Setzer knows that this sort of presentation is as to put kindly frowned upon. So he hides it pushing it underneath a mask of sociability to just keep up appearances as well as he could. He keeps a smile upon his face, attends parties, and just keeps on moving through the motions because that is the thing you did.

In the end though it gets hard for even Setzer to tell the difference between when he is faking it and actually feeling 'something'. Wither he likes to admit it or not being nice sometimes has its own benefits and rewards. He enjoys it when people prove his exceptions wrong and if you somehow do manage to earn the respect of the man behind the mask you earned yourself a lifelong companion willing to put everything on the line for you. More importantly Setzer knows he makes bad decisions and relies heavily upon flawed coping mechanisms regimented in his brain from an early age. But he doesn't seem all too willing to deal with the problem itself.

Setzer Galaband was the result of a brief drunken fling between an airship pilot and some heiress running away from her family. Problem was that love story doesn't end all too well, turns out the heiress missed her money and life of luxury and left Setzer's father with a baby and not much else. After a work related accident had resulted in permanent nerve damage to his right leg, the old man took to drinking in a hard way. Setzer was perpetually the disappointment constantly not living up to his father's standards and being a 'fucking disgrace'. It was this early environment that lead to the young man soon realizing that as he put it 'nobody in the world gave a damn about him' and sort of locked his own feelings away behind emotional barricades. Learning not to care about others around him he focused himself completely upon whatever task lay ahead of him. It was not natural aptitude that came to be Setzer's saving grace but brute force repetition repeating the motions again and again until he learned a skill or ability.

At the age of ten he along with the rest of the students in the small rural school of his were put on a transport and shipped off to the Capital to be tested to be seen if they had the capacity to join WARDEN. While Setzer own magical abilities were only slightly above average, he took to the intellectual testing and physical assessment with flying colors. Seeing the potential in the boy he along with about three hundred others were selected to be sent to the Citadel for further training and to join the ranks of WARDEN. So Setzer packed what little he had living in basically what attributed to abject poverty for most of his life and was sent off to go be shaped into something greater than himself. He never said goodbye to his father walking to the aerodome five miles away by himself and leaving his father in his drunken stupor without much of a word.

When he arrived at the Citadel, Setzer saw the opportunity to reinvent himself as a person. He portrayed himself as one of the so called 'cool' kids that he saw at school. The people around him were all strangers to him, they didn't know that Setzer Galaband was the weird kid, hell the didn't even know who Setzer Gallaband was. He gained popularity with his fellow students with a new self-made easy going 'cool' personality and the approval of his instructors be throwing himself at his training with the same brute force repetition that he marked his earlier life. The military life style came naturally to him and was arguably even good for him giving him a sense of well needed structure and purpose. Others seemed to envy his ability to juggle between working with everything he had in his training and effortlessly keeping up a somewhat functioning social life popping his face into parties and the like. Of course what they didn't know was that training and social events were very much the same thing for Setzer tasks to be completed and achieved.

While he was able to succeeded in both combat and testing through his usual method, it seemed not to work the same way with his magic. While he studied the art of it drilling the concepts and ideas into his head. Taking the concepts into reality seemed to prove another funciton all together that no matter what he tried to do seemed to fall at every turn. This lead to an almost endless source of frustration and even levels of embarrassment for him as his continual failures with the magical arts being the only bad marks in his almost spotless career at the Citadel. This only forced him to continue to push ever further in his combat training pushing himself further and further rather than trying to work on his obvious shortcomings. This process would continue for the next ten or so years of his life at the Citadel.

Eventually he would graduated with a smaller smattering of friends. Much to his frustration and annoyance rather than being placed in First Class he was placed in Second Class mostly on account to his aforementioned lacking ability in the magical arts and his tendency to break away from his team during training exercises. Though these concerns would of been more of a major problem of his if there wasn't more pressing matters to attend to primarily the present Vangar invasion. His own small town was destroyed in the fighting to push the Vangar back from Orestia not that he cared that much. What Setzer cared more about was that the opportunity that the invasion presented, he didn't care for his patriotic duty or revenge. He saw it as opportunity to test himself, to keep on pushing those boundaries and limits.

Setzer's combat style focus on his strengths in an effort to lessen any major weaknesses on his part. His main choice of weapon is a large sword about five feet or so in length and about a foot wide. While most military blades are sleek and elegant in their design or versatile in their application like the well often used gunblade, Setzer's blade is designed from absolute power and strength. The blows from the blade fall with a beautiful simplicity to them with a crushing might enhanced by training and augmentation. The young man moves with a surprising amount of speed landing crushing blow after blow with nothing less than the ferocity of a maelstrom. Due to Setzer's lacking magical ability rather than casting fireballs or throwing lighting with some with minimal magic he does do is to augment the blade making it come flickering alive with everything from fire to ice adding an extra layer of whomp

Gideon - Shared interests of sports and partying brought them together. Setzer's never treated him differently ever though he is royalty. Bros.
Theta - Not the best of pals but friendly enough. Setzer has a habit of getting himself hurt doing stupid shit and Theta is always there to patch him back up. The Tank and Medic have to be friends really.
Galahad - Brain versus brawn the eternal rivalry. They seem to be friendly towards one another despite there constant bickering back and forth. Everything is a competition between them for some stupid reason or another.
Zimmy - She is a party animal, he is a party animal it was only natural that the two of them became friends one way or another. She has a way of continually encouraging him to do some pretty stupid things.
Daryll - Sports and general partying happens and they are friends. Not as close as some others but they still can have a friendly chat from time to time. Daryll tries to stop him from getting wasted too much, Setzer still finds a way to blackout.
Trent - Trent tries to get Setzer to open up about his past. Setzer casually avoids the topic and occasionally will occasionally drag Trent to the Gym with him claiming that that the shrimp needs to become a shark.

Hi!

Blonde-haired and gray-eyed, he inherited the classic looks of the Rass line. A decade spent in assault courses, ruck marches and other combat training exercises at the Citadel have left him lean in places, and thickened in others; a broad back and shoulders, long legs and strong arms. Off-duty, he prefers a button down shirt, untucked, and jeans, preferring a casual look that helps him blend into a club or pub. If on leave long enough, he'll put on some stubble as a bit of rebellion against the clean cut look always expected of him.

Gideon likes to affect a devil-may-care attitude and pretend to be a thick-headed jock that fires synapses but infrequently. He is a good actor, having been forced to play a role under scrutiny much his life.

It's not really a lie, he enjoys a good sweat and physical activity to take his mind off things. He also enjoys problems to solve. He detests class that involves group activities, because he hates sitting around and talking too much. If anything, he is quick to make irreverent comments and likes to be one of the lads rather than take on any sort of leadership role, particularly in the barracks at the Citadel. He has remained at a Cadet Corporal rank (academy rank means little to one's career afterward, when it gets real) because he's wanted to. He made sure to mouth off to the right people at the right time to prevent some sort of big to-do about a prince getting promoted to any sort of special position in the Warden Corps of Cadets.

He is, in a sense, able to manipulate people from that perspective. Nonetheless, he wants to prove that he is more than his name and his family. Granddady isn't going to be on a battlefield to keep him safe, and he has a bit of a chip on his shoulder about being given special treatment. When he's not deliberately being a smartass, the real Gideon is watching people carefully. He's done it all his life, trying to figure people out. They're the most interesting puzzle. His psychological adaptability, which is part of his 'one of the lads' charm, has been noted by his instructors.

Also part of that 'one of the lads' attitude is that he tends to be distant to strangers. Not one for casual acquaintance is Gideon, he prefers the company of people he knows and trusts. The public eye is harsh on his family, and he doesn't let people past a casual acquaintance into friendship all that easily. He is good at putting people at arm's length.

Born as the second-born child of HRH Daniel Rass Anbuch, Herzog von Austberg and the second son of King Balthazar and HRH Johanna (neé Giehl), Gideon was born into notoriety and media scrutiny. Prince Daniel, a naval fighter pilot until there was a terrible training accident, became heavily involved in public relations work and philanthropy, which was considered a good option for the royal family at large. His mother, by contrast, is a civil engineer, and is noted primarily for the rather unorthodox (for a royal family member) work as the project manager of the Ragnar bay bridge, one of the largest and most complex in the world. Gideon was the middle child and was somewhat forgettable until the Survey when he was assessed with an particularly strong connection to the Mist.

The reality was that while the Royal Family could have pulled strings to avoid having WARDEN take young Gideon, it was considered a good thing to have a youngster of House Anbruch in the ranks of one of the kingdom's most visible institutions. It was meant to be a stint in the Wardens and then onto a life of doing something else. Gideon was put through the training like the others, though he made up for it when given time away from the Citadel. There was, regrettably, media scrutiny. Like any teenager, he screwed up multiple times, said dumb things and made a jackass of himself, especially as the later years happened and the parties got more outlandish and ridiculous. House Anbruch's press relations people had their hands full, at times.

When he wasn't pulling stunts or engaged in military training, he took to the soccer pitch, often playing midfield and enjoying a good sweat -- it took his mind off things. His academic performance was alright, but not in the top percentile. His performance in the military training was quite good, he had endurance to spare, and his magical talents were unorthodox. He picked courses with an emphasis on asymmetric warfare; SERE, improvised explosives, construction, demolition (including IED's), communications, reconnaissance and camouflage. He also took courses in the Vangar language. In field exercises where he was handed the command of a squad of classmates, normal rotation where they were all tested as such, he scored higher than his strictly classroom grades would indicate.

During the last couple years, he had a relationship with a much older woman by the name of Georgette Duvalier, an art broker, and it got out. As divorced thirty-something and the barely-eighteen scion of one of the Realm's princes made for quite the tabloid scandal and headlines. In one particular instance, Gideon threw a cameraman that asked nasty questions about Ms. Duvalier's emotional breakdown down onto the pavement, which resulted in a disciplinary action at the Citadel. He was unrepentant about the whole thing, as only a young man could be with the first woman that took his heart. All the same, after that, there were no more outings on leave; he and his friends would spend their time on safe grounds, out of town and well away from the press.

Graduation came on the heels of the war; they cut out the visits anyway and the pressure was on. Suddenly, WARDENs were needed as they never were before. It was surprising to Gideon that they weren't graduated in a fast ceremony and sent to the front, but the supreme effort of Rassvet's Defense Forces managed to create a stalemate situation on the Orestia line. Now, facing the prospect of deployment, Gideon and some of his classmates are waiting for their assignments, and some of them won't be coming back to the reunions. So they have one last chance to howl at the moon together before they have to let go of their childhoods and take on their sworn duty.

Gideon is best with ranged weaponry, typically using an assault rifle or carbine for versatility. While not powerful enough with teleportation magics to move himself around, he has learned an interesting variation of it -- he can enchant his rounds to teleport past an obstacle. His abilities with magic tend to run toward area effects that include the manipulation of local terrain, plant life and weather conditions, though the latter is very localized. He can stir a breeze or cause some plant life to grow. He is able to saturate ground somewhat with moisture. It's rarer stuff, especially as magic use is a military thing and often is geared toward the destructive. In this world of fireballs, he works in subtlety and shadows. He is able to lighten and darken, lengthen shadows and create optical and aural effects. None of this is directly lethal, but it's also the unusual stuff. He has a taste for magics that are often overlooked and has, cunningly, combined this with his studies in asymmetric warfare and improvised weaponry, including explosives, to give him quite the ability to lay ambushes and create mayhem behind the lines. Closer up, he is not as dominant as some of his classmates, preferring a combat hatchet if he gets into a lot of hand-to-hand. All in all, he avoids.

In his off time, he is an avid cyclist, if he's not on a soccer pitch.

- Setzer - Strong relationship based on mutual interests and a shared outlook. The training was meant to encourage bonding between squadmates. There is one key difference; Setzer likes the limelight, Gideon is much harder to approach. Odds are that if one is in trouble, the other is on hand to assist in some way.
- Theta - They don't have much to say to each other anymore, as Theta picked up her father's anti-monarchy position and Gideon tends to believe that the monarchy's detractors seem to have missed the Kingdom's history of stewardship and good policy -- the monarchy might be constitutional, but Balthazar still wields a lot of influence. And that's for the best. She doesn't get it and that makes her a naive muppet. It's a wedge, but it's also an internal, family-squad, squabble.
- Galahad - The two got off on the wrong foot but managed to settle it down during the course of school. Essentially, the argument came down to attitude and everything chilled out around the time the puberty wore off.
- Zimmy - Zimmy is firmly friendzoned in Gideon's world. Sometimes, Zimmy is everyone's best bet for a good time. However, if one needs sleep, peace and quiet, she is the enemy. Sometimes, Gideon feels tired just looking at her zip around and he's an endurance athlete.
- Daryll - Good friends, but Gideon had to turn Daryll down during puberty. It's one of those things that he always kept under his hat, as he understands what it's like to have everyone prying into one's private life, above all others in the squad. They do have a shared enjoyment of sport, of course, and that helps cement the bond.
- Trent - Gideon kept Trent at an arm's legnth because, initially, there was too much talking about royalty this and royalty that. Sometimes, Gideon just likes to settle in his pattern of just being a person, rather than a figurehead or a symbol of something, and Trent was disrupting that. He isn't quite sure how to get that across without being too much of an ass, and he's trying to be gracious about it.
- Lee - Lee is the social opposite of Gideon but for all that, he's a colleague; they think alike and so they are often bouncing ideas off one another. Both prefer the unorthodox and unconventional in their approaches. On the other hand, they tend to mouth off at each other, so it sounds like they're constantly putting each other down but in petty sorts of ways where they mock each other's accent and socio-economic background, along with other offensive stereotypes. End of the day, there's a shared joy in watching properly set explosives go off on the intended recipients.

Standing in at six feet tall, Galahad is a lithe and sinewy individual with the appearance of one who is used to continuous physical exertion, without some of the bulk of his fellow WARDEN members. As expected of WARDEN members, his physique is in top shape, and his thin, but broad shouldered body is akin to the triangular build of that of a swimmer. His skin is a lightly tanned color; and his body, while bearing an abnormally large number of scars compared to the average individual, when compared to a fellow WARDEN, is relatively unscathed.

Galahad has sharp and prominent facial features, with strong cheekbones and brow. His golden blonde hair falls in graceful waves around his head, charming many a stranger, and his eyes are a similarly warm amber despite possessing a piercing, almost chilling gaze. His sense of style outside of his WARDEN uniforms is modern and minimalist, yet stylish.

Cool and collected, Galahad is a confident, yet soft-spoken individual. His calm and collected demeanor is often mistaken for an uncaring and aloof disposition, and his cynicism and pessimist/realist attitude does little to change the opinions of others. Underneath his quiet persona lies an innate brilliance, a highly intuitive and calculative mind. Highly logical and orderly, Galahad is efficient and analytical, but often accused of lacking outward compassion. He is a competent tactician boasting considerable knowledge of theory, though lacking in field experience. Strong willed and possessing an air of determination, Galahad can be highly critical and will rarely hesitate to call others out on their shortcomings, often leading to him butting heads with others.

Direct and to the point, this sharp witted soldier avoids beating around the bush and doesn't mince words. Galahad likes to maintain awareness over every situation he's in and is quick on the ball, able to make snap judgements in combat and react to a constantly changing situation. Capable of operating at peak efficiency, even during times of great stress, Galahad has a very analytic attitude and can be very perceptive and intuitive in regards to people.

A child prodigy hailing from the Rassvet Capital city of Orestia, Galahad is the only son of General Quaid, a prominent leader in the Rassvet military. General Quaid is well known amongst his peers, and served for a short time as the executive officer of Prince Fenris himself before being granted his own command. Galahad's childhood was strict and rigid, and consisted of private lessons, tutors, fencing lessons, and statescraft among other things. Throughout his childhood, Galahad proved to be exceptionally bright, and often outperformed his tutors after periods of months, causing the Quaid family to have to cycle through professors from all over Rassvet, and even other parts of the world. An underspoken yet brilliant child, Galahad completed courses rated for adolescents several years older than him before he turned 10.

Upon turning 10, Galahad was taken to the Citadel for testing like many other 10 year olds. His physical tests were average and nothing special, but his mental aptitude and magical tests rocked scales for WARDEN standards. As such, WARDEN requested that Galahad be put into one of their numbers, to which his father readily agreed, seeing the WARDENS as a chance for Galahad to continue the family lineage. Galahad had little opinion either way, and relegated his decision to his father's.

Upon entering the Citadel, Galahad quickly propelled himself to the top percentiles of his class, his natural brilliance and aptitude with magic, as well as a surprising amount of natural leadership supposedly born of his pedigree sending him towards the top, with only his physical abilities holding him back. During training, Galahad maintained a aloof and confident demeanor, and cared little of what anyone thought of him, students, and instructors alike, and spoke with his actions more than his words. This gained him fans, friends, rivals, and enemies in equal number, some valuing what he brought to the table and his dependability, while others disliking his arrogance and coldness. A natural leader among his peers, Galahad gained popularity among his classmates as both an effective leader as well as follower.

Galahad's main shortcomings were his physical aptitudes, which were by no means poor. Galahad's physical attributes, while not stellar when compared to some of his classmates, were far from substandard, and he remained on par and competitive with the general body of his class. To make up for his physical lackings, Galahad primarily relied on his intelligence among other skills to see him through physical challenges, which only got him so far in tests of pure physical strength.

Graduating near the top percentile of his class, Galahad narrowly missed the cut for First Class WARDEN, and was relegated to Second Class until he gained more field experience. Galahad left the Citadel with a small, core group of comrades, and a newfound confidence in himself. Upon graduation, several of his friends suggested taking a trip, a last hurrah of sorts, before they received their assignments to the frontlines.

A magic specialist in all definitions of the phrase, Galahad takes his place among his peers as one of the best mages in class. What allows Galahad to stand out is his ability to manage multiple destructive elements simultaneously, changing spell type, and form to fit his needs in the current situation. He can form and propel tiny chunks of stone and metal like bullets, call down lightning from the sky, and loose a blinding flash of light without missing a step. While capable of shows of great power, Galahad prefers to make his magical attacks relatively small, precise and concentrated, favoring the preservation of energy and smart use of resources; and reserves flashy displays of power for intimidation and destruction of enemy morale. Galahad is a versatile and dependable spellcaster, and overwhelms his foes with repeated, precise strikes from multiple angles and sources. Galahad is also learned in other areas of magic as well, including teleportation, healing and illusion magic, though these skills are rudimentary and more based in theory and classes rather than actual experience.

While normally preferring to conduct combat from a safe distance, Galahad is just at home on the frontlines with his comrades, magic saber in one hand, and barrier spell in the other. Darting in to deliver a few quick blows with his blade and then pulling back, Galahad is a nimble fighter when on the front lines, fully aware of his lack of bulk when compared to some of the other frontline fighters, and as such rarely stays in one place for too long.

N/A

Zimmy is as fit as being a WARDEN requires of her, but more than that would be too much to ask. Her muscles are well defined and she is in excellent human condition, but compared to some of the other beefcakes at the Citadel, she can't even come close. She is of average height and average build. On her left shoulder is a tattoo of a hawk, wings open as if flying.

Her hair is very wild. She's taken to just brushing it out of her face, instead of trying to keep it smooth and silky. When she wants to look good, she uses either a magic spell or a really big brush. Otherwise, why bother.

She has a band of charms on her left wrist, which was given to her when she was nine by her best friend at the time. Aside from that, she has no other jewelry to speak of, save for a strange bracelet which she refuses to speak of, no matter what anyone says. Only she knows its significance.

Zimmy is a social woman. Not bubbly or hyperactive, but charming, engaging, and full of energy. Despite putting herself under pressure in her youth, she's much more relaxed at present time, and her upbringing with parents who loved her dearly has left her full of quiet positivity. Of course, there was plenty of verbal sparring with her parents as well, leaving her a sharp tongue. She is never against using her acerbic wit to call someone out, even if she ends up being wrong.

She calls the world as she sees it, and despite her friendly demeanor she has proven to have quite a sturdy complexion, never balking from blood or broken bones. She is tough-spirited and not afraid to show it. Instead, she has Alektorophobia, a strange fear of live chickens, which no one has been able to figure out, or alleviate. She claims to "hate their beady little poultry eyes". She also has trouble throwing things away, and without a verbal reminder to clean out all her things, she will allow her possesions to pile up, everywhere.

Some would even call her lazy in comparison to other WARDENs, as her penchant for levitation, sliding, and warping spells lets her move around without much physical exertion. By normal standards, she's well-disciplined, but not in comparison to her comrades. She gets bored from hours of training, whereas some other WARDEN students absolutely love it. If life isn't entertaining her, she likes to shake things up.

People talk to Zimmy when they're in the mood for adventure, or feeling down about their life circumstances. Her free spirit and quirky words can lift almost anyone's spirits.

Zimmy was born to two retired WARDENs. The spark of magic was in her for sure, but no one really knew exactly how much magic she would have. Either way, it was more or less expected of her to become a member of the elite order. For a short time when she was very young, she told her parents that she was going to be an artist. She had seen a television show about a kindly old woman painting on a canvas, and it had entirely entranced her. Her mother smiled kindly at her and said "of course you are, sweetie".

Instead, she was enrolled in preliminary schooling: having gone through the system already, her parents knew the tips and tricks she would need to know to pass the WARDEN aptitude tests. As soon as she could run, she was going along with her father each morning on a long jog. She hated those jogs, but her father talked about so many interesting things--magic, monsters, flying through the skis--so she sucked it up. Following the jog was a short, intense strength training session, and then reading. Lots of reading. She didn't even understand half of what she read, but her mother and father insisted on it.

She still tried to practice her art, but as time went on, she slowly admitted to herself that she had no talent with a paintbrush whatsoever. Instead, she went to school, trained with her parents and made friends, living a young child's life of wonder, happiness, and laughter. She was quite the popular young lady, with a bright smile and a slowly developing wit which put her peers to shame.

During her tenth year, she was brought to the Citadel to be tested. Due to her parents guidance, she impressed the testers almost instantly. She was in excellent shape, had a keen mind, and knew magic far better than she had any right to. Her parents were nothing short of thrilled. Both Second Class WARDEN in their own time, they had a quiet hope that their daughter, armed with the knowledge and physicality to go far, might even make First Class.

Zimmy was a girl leaving all her friends and family behind, and even for a bright spark like Zimmy, that still hurt. Her best friend Karmin hadn't passed the WARDEN test, and would be going to a normal school for non-military folks. They probably wouldn't see one another for ten years, at the minimum. So it was no real surprise that Zimmy took a while to warm up at the Citadel. She did well in her classes, because she didn't have much else to do.

Slowly, however, Zimmy warmed to the Citadel. Her parents kept in touch, and the people inside were mostly good folk, if a bit rigid and structured. Her infectious smile and funny witcisims won her the affections of her instructors and many of her classmates. Zimmy was quite the charming young lady, full of light-hearted gestures and pranks and sharp comments. Her motto was: anyone can be a smartass in life, as long as they're sassy with a smile. It was hard to get mad at Zimmy, because anyone who speaks with her can feel the vibrance in her tone, and can't help but share in the excitement.

As Zimmy became more comfortable with her new life, and as the years passed, she felt her urge to succeed waning. It was enough to just enjoy life, and it was Zimmy who people came to when they wanted to have a night out, or a party, or a get together. She was fun to be around, and she accrued quite a list of acquaintances and friends around the Citadel, but her interest in the actual classes just wasn't cutting it.

That was until her third year at the Citadel, when she took her first class of movement spells. In a snap, Zimmy was entranced, watching their dancer-like instructor swirl around the room, then blink out of existence, only to reappear on the other side of the room. Zimmy felt an excitement in her chest like she hadn't ever felt before. That was what she wanted to do. The instructor had heard of her--no surprise there--and seeing the interest in the young girl's eyes, agreed to teach her, one-on-one.

From there, it was like a series of dominoes fell. While the majority of her classmates were working on a large array of general spellcraft, Zimmy was practicing zipping around, and she may or may not have used her newfound movement abilities to gain access to places she shouldn't have. She was caught once, and given a very stern talking to, along with the two others she had roped into her schemes.

But Zimmy didn't care. She wanted to fly. She had been introduced to the non-combative side of magic, and she intended to learn as much as she could. She learned how to create distractions with unconscious ease, memorizing spells for fireworks, shrieking whistles, and more. She learned spells to bend the light around her so she could sneak around without being seen. By the end of her training, Zimmy had practically written the book on being a magically enhanced prankster.

Any class that involved distraction, sneaking, climbing, or confusion, she aced without even trying. Theory and knowledge classes, she had to work at, but she did quite well. It was the combat classes where she really struggled. She was very fit for a woman her age and size, and she passed every exam they threw at her, but she knew she was barely scraping by. She knew the tactical aspects of firearms backwards and forwards: reloading, handling, and magical enhancement...she got that. It was the aiming that screwed her over. And her offensive magic just never seemed to be as potent as the rest of her arsenal. They were acceptable by WARDEN standards, but they would never place her in a higher ranking.

Her average level of skill with attack spells and firearms showed heavily on her performance review. She was worried her parents would be disappointed; she knew that they had hoped for her to be First Class. Due to her only average combat skills, she was appointed to Third Class. When she found out, she was horrified that her parents would disown her. There was no good way to swing this--she had pranked away her years instead of studying, and now it was her fault.

But the day after her appointment, a shadowy man pulled her aside as she walked down one of the halls, alone for the first time in a long while. She had almost stuck a firecracker of sparks in the man's mouth before he started talking. No, he was not trying to kidnap her: he was part of Rassavet's intelligence agency.

An offshoot of WARDEN, they had noted her particular talents during the course of her training, and requested her specifically to join their ranks. As far as the rest of the world would know, she was just a Third Class WARDEN. When her particular skills were required, however, they would contact her, through a strange looking bracelet he handed to her.

"Awesome," she said, smiling brightly at the man. He nodded and faded away into the shadows. Zimmy never even saw his face, but he had brightened her mood considerably.

Her parents were very confused when she told them of her appointment. Third Class, yes, but she said something huge had come her way, something she wasn't allowed to talk about. Her parents knew her--if she had been allowed to tell them, she would have. They were a little disappointed that she hadn't made even Second Class, but that secretiveness she showed them was enough to keep them satisfied. Something was going down.

Zimmy decided to celebrate her interesting new life in the best way possible. A road trip. She called up several of her friends and told them to pack their bags. They'd survived ten years of the Citadel...it was time to get the hell out of there.

Zimmy is a Third Class WARDEN, and that suits her just fine. She is proficient with offensive magic and firearms, as all WARDEN are expected to be, but her skills are nothing to write home about. She would much rather have a more skilled fighter between her and the enemy.

Instead, Zimmy's skillset involves espionage and distraction, or in her words, "sneaking around and being really, really annoying". She is well versed in movement spells, such as warping, levitation, climbing, and speed enhancments, using these spells to move around battlefields and safe areas alike with grace and poise. She is working on flight spells, but flight magic is exceedingly difficult for anyone, and she hasn't quite gotten there yet.

She also is capable of generating small, camoflauged barries, or bending the light around her to disappear from view, as well as generating loud noises, bright flashes, and all other manner of disorienting and distracting effects. She once turned a pile of rocks into quicksand two feet deep, dropping a fellow student into the earth and leaving him there for ten minutes while she went to get lunch.

In short, Zimmy is a spy and a nuisance, and is excellent at both tasks.

In the event that she has to fight, she uses submachine guns and an assortment of magical grenades, things that don't need to be aimed too precisely. Midrange weaponry suits her best, as her small stature means she would get wrecked at close ranges, but her aim is not as sharp as most of the other WARDENs.

Barring anyone's objections, I think Zimmy would be the kind of person to start up a road trip idea. Maybe she was the organizer for the whole thing?

Daryll doesn't look particularly special. I mean, yeah, he's pretty muscular, but that's standard for a WARDEN. His hair is nice, he supposes, but short and brown isn't exactly uncommon. He's simply glad he's managed to avoid any real form of acne or odd scars, though it'd be a nice way to launch into a story. He stays clean shaven for simplicity's sake - a beard is a bit of a hassle.

While off duty he usually wears a T-shirt, jacket, and jeans. Most often a green shirt and jacket, since that's his favorite color. He wore torn stuff for a while, before realizing that it was a bit silly and impractical - can't slide while playing sports if your knees are specifically exposed.

Daryll is sort of your everyman, a touch deliberately so. Surrounded by people who try very hard, social outcasts, and would-be masterminds, he's made a bit of a point to himself to be as normal as possible in the Citadel. He curses a bit when warranted, laughs, cracks jokes, and generally tries to be friendly. Indeed, he's developed a tendency for puns and lame jokes, specifically because he's been surrounded by such a serious atmosphere for half of his life. It makes him as many friends as it pushes away.

His easygoing and honest attitude haven't made him a "cool kid," but he's well liked with a sizable circle of friends, a few of which are also past professors. Sure, some people dislike him, and he's had a rival or two, but most everything has been pretty healthy. The only exception of sorts is romance. Like most students in the Citadel, he's never been in a relationship, since those are often broken up due to distracting students from their studies. On top of this, Daryll realized fairly early on that he's gay. He almost started dating on guy, but thought better of it. As it stands, he's technically in the closet, though he's not specifically hiding the fact - it's simply that nobody has asked.

Daryll Fletcher was born to a docks workman. As such, many of his days as a child were spent around well traveled folk, hearing stories of fantastical places and creatures, and later helping lift various objects and ferrying them to-and-fro. His parents and teachers always told him he was special, though it never quite felt like it, and he was never placed in any special programs. A traveling mage did his family the favor of checking him for magical aptitude at age 8, and everyone was delighted to find that he had some innate talent for the art, though they could not afford specific training.

At age ten, when Daryll took the exam, he placed almost exactly one standard deviation above average in every category. It was actually somewhat conspicuous, resulting in a small investigation of his family and life. Since the government was growing slightly uneasy by the approaching Vangar border, they decided to take him on board, since it was uncommon to find such a well rounded, solid candidate, and they could always downsize later if need be. And so Daryll was whisked off, to a life with greater potential than was left for him back on the docks. One final, and uncommonly expensive, dinner later (paid for by the kind dockmaster), Daryll was surrounded by new people and buildings.

Daryll's first reaction to many of his peers was something along the lines of "manipulative asshats." However, once he toned down the colorful vocabulary he has picked up from the sailor and took the time to know some of his less-vocal classmates, he quickly found a nice circle of good friends. By year through, though, he had noticed that everyone around him was changing. Everyone said that they were the best of the best here in WARDEN, but nobody seemed to believe it. It was cutthroat competitive, and a touch oppressive. People threw themselves at being the very best like their lives depended on it (which he supposed it kinda did), and many people lost confidence as they found themselves near the bottom or middle of the pile, instead of the top like before they were moved here. Many of his classmates developed emotional issues, such as aversion to attachment, depression, or just generally being a wound-up ball of angst. Daryll decided that, instead of being the best, his goal was to stay sane.

For the next couple of years, he continued with his studies. He veered away from the hotshots who were dead set on being at the top. Unfortunately, these often wound up being the popular kids, since so much of their social system revolved around being the best. By the time he was 15, Daryll decided that he needed to suck it up and spend time with them. Even if some of them were just putting on a giant social act, isn't always pretending to be nice almost the same thing as being nice? Over the next five years, Daryll began to realize that most of them really were decent folk, even if most had various issues they never seemed to sort out.

Along the way, Daryll became friends with several of his professors. These bonds helped him pull a bit ahead in his classes, since they were more willing to help him after class and the like. At around 16, he was asked to join a small PR program that the Citadel was running for WARDEN, where they essentially sent the most friendly students to be among the citizenry every other weekend and be the sort of face for the WARDEN student body. Figuring that it couldn't hurt to have more opportunities to go around town, Daryll took it up and became a vaguely familiar face on local television networks and various social spots around town. Now that he's graduating, Daryll figures that he might as well take some of those hot shots he became friends with on a road trip, so he might get to say "hey" to a few of those friends he made over the years before beginning duty.

Daryll took on the standard Gunblade for his combat training. As a Third Class WARDEN, he's essentially an elite shock trooper, highly skilled with the common, so called "Blink N' Bash" style of swordplay (or "Blink N' Blast" where bullets and magic are concerned.) He's got a solid understanding of the basics in all magic disciplines, and follows the standard routine of short range teleports to confuse his foes and find/make an opening to strike though, while keeping a touch of divination magic about him to prevent any foes from doing the same. He was never the best in the class, but he was able to give those who were an appreciable duel lasting longer than a minute. He wears light armor for the mobility, augmented by basic barrier magic, of course.

Setzer and Daryll are casual friends. Hanging out frequently, but mostly in the company of groups. They've been to quite a few parties, where Daryll quietly frowns on just how much Setzer tends to drink.
At around 14 Daryll developed a silly crush on Gideon. It's since past, but during that year and a half, Daryll persistently wormed his way into position as a friend of Gideon, and simply hasn't seen a reason to abandon a now reasonably solid friendship.
Early on at the Citadel, Daryll met Theta in some basic mobility magic classes. Since then, they've remained great low key friends, hanging out for an afternoon every few weeks without drama. Then Daryll met Theta's roommate, Zimmy. "Low key" became rare as he was dragged out on several of her adventures. each month. The two women are the only people who know about his orientation.
Galahad is pretty much the person Daryll considers a "manipulative asshat." While the manipulative part isn't really true, Daryll retains his opinion and, while he respects the man's skill, merely tolerates his presence.
Daryll and Trent know each other for two reasons: helping each other study, and the girls (Theta and Zimmy). They're decent friends.
Daryll and Lee once went an hour back and forth making puns. They've been best friends ever since, sparring sometimes after classes.

Daryll Fletcher is essentially a decent guy with standard skills. He's not going to be pulling miracles, but as a member of WARDEN he's more than a match for a given soldier on the battlefield. The most special thing about him is that he's really not that special.

The gay thing is largely for flavor. Other players can take it or leave it if they want to start a subplot - I'm not about to push anything down anybody's throats. If you care about it, I can remove it before posting to the thread (assuming this is acceptable.)

Dark brown hair that tends to look as dark as the night sky. Eyes the shade of mud. Having spent most of his time in the shooting ranges and in the Citadel's Libraries trying to uncover as much about the Astral Mist, has left him more on the pale side. What little color he gets is from running laps around certain areas of the Citadel for cardio. Fingers seemingly a permanent state of banages from papercuts on pages, he tends to wear the standard WARDEN gloves at all times.

Hair kept as tidy as he possibly can with the standard crew cut as all other WARDENs leave with, he's hoping to get it as long as it was and trimmed in a nicer manner. Facial hair, whilst sparce on his face, tends to grow in patches and swirls, making shaving a rather amusing time for Trent.

Coming up to most of the other cadet's shoulders, if that, depending on who it was standing by. He keeps a smile on his face. Unlike others, throwing himself into the magic portions of study have left him lacking in high muscle tones. Slender and with "femine" curves to boot have made Trent slightly ashamed of his size and body tone.

On his time off, he's usually found in black jeans and a button up shirt, book in hand. If he's not in the libraries he's out jogging the campus to get some sun and keep his cardio at a decent rate.

Coming from an outlying farm and having four older sisters has left it's mark on Trent's personality. Always a kind word to give to others, cheering them on and helping to motivate them. His smile, to most, is infectious and can get any dark cloud hovering a good scare. Living with so many females, he has learned to also be a decent listener for most troubles. From dating advice (he has little experience) to what one could expect on the next tests (he has more experience with those).

Trent was short tempered and it shows itself every so often. Meditation and Advanced Mist training have dapped most of the fuel of his temper making it a little harder to get him going. When it does go off, he doens't pull his punches and uses his tongue as his weapon to lash whoever is in the wrong. Besides his temper he is extremely carefree and outgoing with those around him. He doesn't always say much but when he does people listen, sometimes.

Being around more kids of his age growing up has also played into effect. He doesn't meant to do it, but sometimes catches himself mimicing others in mannerisms and personality traits. When he does catch himself, he tends to quickly move on or switch topics and watches his interactions better. He's been known to keep a few mannerisms he likes, like a hand on the hip and forefinger pointed for a door when someone has truly crossed him. (He blames his eldest sister for this mannerism.)

Training at the Citadel and with others has proven time and again that Trent is not a leader. He may be cheerful and helpful to those around him but when thrust with responisibilities he locks up and has issues giving commands when he's so use to recieving them. One of the teachers has taken to playing Chess with Trent, trying to help improve this aspect, with little to no effect.

Hard working on his Magic has left it's own traits in him, feeling the power quell in his body and around him, he's slightly more sensitive to other peoples moods and they can make it hard for Trent to breath. One moment intense feelings, the next gone as if a gust of air playing with his shortened hair. Not only this, but only one or two close friends know he is truly afraid of his magic.

Born in the Southern Rassvet on a small farm in an even smaller town. The fifth child and first son of his family has brought him anything but cheer. His father was a kind man, if not a workaholic and pressed as much as he could into Trent's hand. Ignoring most of the high tech mechinations going on, Trent was taught to appriecate the simply things from the time he asked why another boy had a new electrical toy. Learning little of the farming life from his father, he stayed by his sisters and mother side more often then what other boys of his young age would normally. Mei, the eldest, dubbed herself the princess of the family and acted it. Much of Trent's memories revolve around his sisters all taking turns dressing him up in their hand-me-down clothing and their mother's makeup.

Trent looked back on those days with happiness, until his tenth nameday. Everything changed a month before then. He had been out with the second oldest sister, Kia, when the Town Incident occurred. Trent still doens't know how he managed to get from the bottom of the tree to the top of it and "Mom I swear I was floatin' and everythin'!!" A few days after that, word spread of Trents control over the elements and what it would mean for his life. To Trent, it was the worst thing that could have happened to him in his short ten years. He fought, cried, begged, threatened, cried even more and stomped his foot when he was told he was being taken to the Citadel to train as a WARDEN.

Trent hasn't told anyone at all of his sisters or his family because of that. Not ashamed of his behavoir, but feeling as if he'll be mocked for not WANTING to become a WARDEN.

Training with the others was a hole new world for Trent. Unuse to sleeping with so many boys around him brought up many questions he's squashed with an intense fevor and a neglect that has left him socially awkward around some of the boys. As he grew, he played it off as homesickness, still tight lipped about it, and learning how his sisters had a point that boys would talk your ear off as quickly as any girl would. Teen years and intense training brought out more of Trent's magic.

Making a fireball was easy, making lightning strike form the sky was a sneeze worth of effort. A breeze was as easy as breathing. Getting these elements to fully obey him and not stray from their destined path took the rest of Trent's time leaving him little time for the more physical classes. He learned how to dual wield pistols and not lose accuracy from a few of his classmates thankfully.

The teenaged boys teased him, and learned when Trent sparked (literially sparked) to back off and put on the heavy gloves. The girls learned his listened well and was willing to help them, if they would help him with some of his training as well. Time went by, he's never forgotten the face of the Inspector who took him away to the Citadel, he's forgotten the name however. Planning on escaping back home upon graduation, he's doesn't realize that Fate and Faith have something else instore for him and a small group of "friends".

Two handguns at each hip, one usually charged with ice-type bullets the other with water-type to give the ice-water combo a nice sting to his targets. After all, sometimes a bullet was too good for someone.

His main focus is his magics. Though powerful and frightening in his hands, he feels most at ease with them at his beck and call. Fireballs to lightning to forming shards of ice out of the moisture in the air has made up for his lack of physical prowess on the battle field. Where others have minor magics Trent's power seems to stem from the world around him. Trained by some of the best has helped curb his over use of his power and drain on himself making him much more effective.

Very untrained in close combat save for a few minor spells, Trent tends to stick closer to the back of the group, using his high magic attacks as a defense and attack all in one nice little body.

Will fully fill out in the morning when more brain cells are firing.

Nothing to see here, move along maggot!!! (I'm kidding!!!!)

Standing at 5'9, Lee is a bit shorter than the typical male WARDEN, and his somewhat slight build would suggest that he isn't a front-line soldier. He's built more lean and compact than most, having a more agile body instead of the usual bulky build expected of him; speed and endurance is more his style, making him capable of moving more freely. His light brown hair is medium in length and reaches down to his shoulders, but he usually keeps it up in a messy makeshift pony tail that would make most people look unkept, but he somehow pulls it off and makes it look good. His eyes are a bright green, and there is the slightest hint of a smattering of freckles on his lightly tanned face. He's mostly clean shaven, but will let his sideburns grow out a bit when he can get away with it, which is almost never. His facial features could be said to be a bit soft and borderline androgynous.

When not in the WARDEN uniform, he tends to dress fashionably but casually. Dress shirts and smart casual pants, usually in bold blue and black colors with a white undershirt and nice leather shoes. No matter the current fashion trend though, he's always wearing his favorite blue jacket with a white trim.

An extroverted young man with a mischievous streak, Lee (which he prefers to go by instead of his full first name) is the outgoing comic that every friend group has that is either loved by his friends or easily annoyed by him. His smart mouth has gotten him into trouble more than once, and he has a habit of talking just a little too much at times. He cares more about having fun and amusing himself than anything serious like combat or military tactics, and can be incredibly lazy at times, preferring to procrastinate rather than get any real work done. As a result, he'd often get overall low marks in many of his courses, which is a shame since he's actually quite brilliant. Judging by his disposition, laziness, and apparent lack of common sense, he would come off as an idiot to most, but he somehow would score incredibly high on both academic and physical tests, on par with the geniuses of his fellow trainees. He has a natural know-how to many things, and anytime he manages to actually pay attention to his studies he always remembers it all to the smallest details. Not only that, but he has the ability to think fast and creatively, if the situation ever calls for it. He could be among the top of his class if he wanted, but he just doesn't care for such a position. Besides, he seriously loathes responsibility, and will avoid it whenever he can.

He very much has a "go with the flow" attitude, but isn't one to hold back on giving his two cents if he feels like it, to the point that he can be annoyingly opinionated. However, he likes to make people laugh and feel good, even if it comes at his own expense, and is reliable in the sense that he can be your best buddy if you need him to. If the mood gets a little too grim for his taste, he'll try to find a way to lighten the situation. He's a very playful person and a borderline flirt, though he tends to avoid crossing lines and being obnoxious, very much preferring innuendo and wordplay. His sarcasm has been known to leave metaphorical whelps to any who don't expect it, especially since many of his usual quips aren't ones to sting. If someone ever manages to hit a personal issue with him, he'll try to laugh it off but be unable to hide the bite in his words for awhile. He rarely becomes angry, and has to be pushed to his absolute limits for his anger to fully come out.

In combat, he's still basically the same, but he can be serious if the situation becomes dire. Anytime Lee becomes serious, anyone he's working with just knows it's time to worry. He'll often let others take the lead in battle, and will only try to step up if he thinks it's necessary.

Lee was born in a small fishing town known as Trayce. He never knew his parents, having been given up for adoption at an orphanage, Saint Marias', soon after birth. It wasn't something he thought about all that much though, it was just a fact of life for him as much as the fact that the sky was blue and gravity held people to the ground. He was never adopted during the ten years he spent in the orphanage, as he was a particularly rowdy child and was rude to any adults who came by, but that was ok, because Emily was there. She was a girl around his age, maybe a year older though no one was sure since the orphanage never received her birth records when she arrived. She was a sickly girl, bound to a wheelchair and abandoned on the building's front steps when she was about three or four years old. Lee didn't know what exactly was wrong with her, but he didn't care. All he knew was that the two of them always had fun and could talk to each other endlessly into the night. No potential adopters wanted to have to care for a sick kid who would likely die within a few years, so she was fated to have to stay there for all of her childhood years. But at least the two of them had each other.

At least, until they took the WARDEN exams. Emily scored well in the written and mental portions, but of course never had a chance of being recruited. Lee didn't even try to take it seriously, but someone must've seen his potential, as it was decided he would be taken to the Citadel. He of course didn't want to go, but it was Emily who managed to convince him not to struggle against it. She told him it was his chance to finally get out of the orphanage and that it was a once in a lifetime opportunity. After all, not everyone had the aptitude to become a part of WARDEN. So he made a promise, that if he went along with it that he would come back after his service was over and get her out of the orphanage and find a place of their own. He didn't seem to understand at the time that he would be gone for a long time, and that they would both be adults by that time, but she couldn't break it to him and simply agreed, for his sake.

And so, Lee found himself in what he considered hell. He didn't like the training, he didn't like the studies, and he was hardly considered popular with the other kids. But he found solace in his pen pal, fortunately, as they wrote letters to each other weekly. Emily was really the only thing keeping him going for the first few years, and his motivation to keep his promise was what made him put in any effort as a WARDEN. But of course, it wasn't allowed to last. As his third year at the Citadel began to come to an end, word came around that a natural disaster had occurred that affected many shoreline towns and cities. A terribly strong tsunami had struck the shore, and caused deadly floods to overtake many of the populated areas. Lee remembered that day clearly, it was a Friday. Communication lines were down, so he couldn't call to hear what happened and if people were safe, if Emily was safe. So, he did the only thing he could do, and wrote a letter. He never received a response. For several weeks, he was just blank and hardly existent. He continued to send letters every Friday, despite never receiving responses, and eventually his mental health was called into question.

And then suddenly, something inside him snapped. He was back to normal, as if nothing had ever happened. Though "normal" may not have been the right word. He hadn't necessarily gone crazy, but anyone who knew him (which at this point, wasn't a whole lot of people) could tell he was clearly and obviously different. He was a lot more social and outgoing, and tended to try to be the center of attention. This change couldn't be explained by the psychological counselors, but they the best they could come up with was that it was a method of coping for him. Though what worried them more was what they considered wasted potential with him. He was clearly smart if one were to go by his test scores, he excelled well in physical courses despite his somewhat smaller stature compared to the majority of his peers, and he appeared to have a strong connection to the Astral Mist. Yet he just didn't care to improve himself, despite all of his potential. He may not have been as anti-social and blank anymore, but even as a goof off he still wasn't putting in the effort his instructors knew he was clearly capable of. He never just gave up, sure, but he would only ever do the bare minimum asked of him. In a word, it was frustrating.

There was one incident in his later years, however, that changed things for him. He and a couple buddies decided they would pull a prank, and of course, they were caught. Though they weren't easily found out, and the only reason anyone they were found out was because Lee stepped forward so that the others wouldn't be punished. But surprisingly to him, he wasn't punished either, at least not severely. Without getting into specifics, what he'd considered a simple prank abled by basic spells, was seen as a tactical trap that wouldn't be out of place on the battlefield. It was this incident that finally helped one instructor realize what was needed to help him realize his full potential: creative outlets. He would be taught the usual courses, but time would be set aside afterward for him to use what he learned. He would be challenged to use his knowledge in unorthodox ways, sometimes in certain ways that only he really understood. His marks improved, but at this point it was too late to get him into Second Class and was set as a Third Class WARDEN. His general aversion to being a leader, past signs of emotional instability, and spending most of his WARDEN career caring more about pranks and jokes than his classes was what ultimately held him back, but wasn't like he minded to be honest. Though he was told that if he performed well on the battlefield, he could potentially rank up the Second Class in due time.

Lee isn't a powerhouse fighter, though he defintely isn't a physical slouch either. Being lean and incredibly agile, he's proficient at being able to move around quickly and strike fast. His weapon of choice is a serrated chain whip, which is connected to a steel gauntlet on his right arm for easy accessibility and storage. An often underestimated weapon, the whip isn't particularly destructive, but in his deft hands it can be deadly. It can allow him to strike at enemies from up to a medium range, keeping him out of typical immediate danger and giving him breathing room in case the situation doesn't go in his favor. He can also use it to constrict enemies and latch onto objects. For a secondary weapon, he carries a sidearm pistol for when his whip doesn't cut it, and he has decent enough skill with it to shoot down enemies from far distances with accuracy.

For magic, he relies mainly on support and minor healing. His spells revolve around phsyics: allowing him to make weapons sharper or duller, armor harder and denser or softer and squishier, and grant allies faster and lighter mobility or foes slower and heavier movement, though those are only basic examples. He has some healing capabilities, but only enough to ease pain and stop wounds from bleeding until a more experienced healer can arrive. One particular spell he's fond of allows him to give people what amounts to an artificial adrenaline rush, though it's ethical use for casting on allies is considered murky, and as such he doesn't use it often, despite being one of his favorite spells. He's dabbled in offensive magic, but never cared to pick any of it up. Let the others cast their fireballs, he much prefers giving others the support needed to unleash their more devastating attacks.

One final skill set of his is the ability to set up traps. Gone are the days where he used this uncanny ability to pull pranks (for the most part), as he now uses them against foes. Give him enough time to plan and set it up, and he'll get it done as long as you let him have fun and go wild with it.

Setzer- Lee has tried to get to know him in the past but could never get a good read on him. He's tried to see how far he can go with jokes and teasing, but there's an unspoken social barrier between them. However, he has a lot of respect towards Setzer for having so much commitment and drive when he can't draw up the same for himself.

Gideon- Their relationship is both complicated and simple. Their shared tactical interests mean that they can work together in unique ways, but they mouth off to each other so much that, to an outsider, it would look like they hate each other. But ultimately it's all in good fun, as there's nothing quite like having a buddy you can talk shit with and not have to worry about offending each other. It's always satisfying to them when a plan of theirs comes together.

Theta- Lee met Theta through tutoring on healing magic. Her quiet and calm disposition meant he never got to talk to her much before then, but he was surprised and intrigued to see her "other" side on the combat training field, and has since spent more time with her outside of studies and tutoring. He's dropped hints that he likes her, though he's almost entirely sure she's never picked up on it (unfortunately).

Galahad- Probably the one person Lee loves to mess with the most. He's constantly trying to get reactions out of him and break his seemingly aloof and analytical demeanor, even if only for a moment. He's even flirted with him on more than one occasion to get a rise out of him, though it's a mystery whether he actually meant any of it or not. He's lost more "battles" than won against him though.

Zimmy- Their likeness has caused something of both a friendship and low-key rivalry between them. If they're not collaborating on a prank or joke, then they're constantly trying to outdo the other in any way they can, and in that way he respects her as someone who can best him. Most of their peers know to be wary when they manage to work together. Zimmy was the one who recommended Theta as a tutor.

Daryll- Lee sees him a jarringly nice and normal guy who seems out of place as a WARDEN. They easily became friends and joke around often, with Daryll being somewhat of his right-hand man when pulling pranks. They have the occasional sparring match, but Lee will more often than not mess around, for instance by turning Daryll's gunblade into nothing more than a foam sword for shits and giggles.

Trent- Trent was one of the few of his fellow peers who noticed his depression, and would always try to cheer him up. Lee was appreciative once he'd had time to move on and get out of his funk, and saw him as a close friend and generally nice guy after that. He recruited him a bit too often for his pranks and would get him into trouble, but with the intention of trying to get him to go out more and have fun. Lee feels a little protective of him at times.

None as of now.