Human beings only had one redeeming quality: they were fun targets. Bak had known this for a very long time, nearly so long as she could remember. She assumed that there must have been some affection once, surly someone that had held her at some point and looked down on her with eyes filled to bursting with love. Sometimes when she wracked her memory she could fool herself into believing she could remember how it felt. That was nothing but a delusion. Even if she could grasp at the faintest outline of love in a distant memory it had no meaning in the world she lived in. In her world humans didn't have any love for her. They had jeers. They had stones. They had fear. They looked at her with hatred in their hearts because she was a demon monster who existed only to do evil in the world. They would kill her, if they believed they could, and she had protected herself, because no one else would do so for her, and gradually those fearful glares all disappeared over the horizon never to be seen again. All but two, but there wasn't anything she could do about that.

It was here, in the burnt out ruin of what might have been a town, that the man from Mephisto's had found her. She wasn't entirely sure why she agreed to go with him. Maybe it was childlike wanderlust, or a need to search out more targets to shoot, or just to get way from those two whom she could never use her bullets to drive away. They hadn't accompanied her to the cargo plane the man had chartered to take her to Rhea, had not even said goodbye. The only ones she shared a goodbye with were the sheep in the field, who tolerated her only because their glass eyed ignorance kept them from comprehending her. They were the closest things she'd ever had to friends and, as she felt the plane rumble under her as she flew into parts unknown, the only thing she regretted leaving behind.

In an odd way it was comforting to know that people were the same everywhere. She'd been in this position before, surrounded by a swarm of children yelling colorful insults, but she didn't let any of it get through her armor. She was actually smiling faintly at the ridiculousness of it all. All you had to do was look at her to tell that this was a bad idea. They were always so stupid. Did they think being here, at this school, would protect them? Did they believe she was unwilling to use her seemingly lethal arsenal? Were they thinking that, perhaps, she would never be foolish enough to fire her missiles at this range? Her missile launcher flipped open, and she stopped for a moment to appreciate the sudden silence and collective intake of breath from the mob. Then she unleashed hell.

The first explosion was always the most fun because it made them scatter like carrion birds. The heat was just warm enough to feel good as it washed across her skin, the concussive force that had thrown part of the circle in all directions only making her step backwards to regain her balance. She spun up her guns, tracked one of the fleeing groups with her artillery, and from that point on she was prancing in a field of yellow-orange flowers. The courtyard was filled with big hearty BOOMs, the scream of pain as people went down, were knocked up, came back down, and somehow over it all the joyous peals of a young girls laughter. It lasted no more than a few seconds before they had scattered out of sight and Bak was, again, seemingly alone. Seemingly.

There was one left. There was usually the one in every crowd, the one for whom Fight or Flight glitched out and made them stand their, dumbly, not even processing what was going on. She turned to face him. She smiled. She'd give him a chance. She wait for him to settle on one of the other while she waited for her missiles to reload. He knelt down, hands raised as though he were expecting that to save him. She saw his hand slowly creep over to a rock, lifting it into his hand. Fight, then. That was brave. She'd only use a missile on him, they didn't hurt as much.

When he threw it, though, it wasn't at her. It sailed behind a bush and exploded like something of her own, sending the ones that had been hiding their tumbling head over foot into the air. What? She turned back to the boy, who was giving her a weak little smile. What? Huh? Why? What?

She didn't understand. Even as she started clapping she was so dumbfounded she didn't even bother to rotate her guns out of the way. She laughed, but even then she didn't quite get why, and he started to laugh too. Slowly, shakily, like a man that had been led to the gallows only to see the contraption collapse as he stepped on it, but even so. It wasn't until some time later, after she'd met with the rest of the committee and had time to acclimate herself to them, that she fully understood what it was she'd been feeling at that moment. At the time she'd been content to just stand there and laugh together with another human being because it was the most beautiful thing she'd ever felt.

Mephisto was actually the easiest look to look for. He doesn't have any apparent gifts, so I tried to find normal looking guys that were respectable enough that people would give them their money without going so far as to be called classy.

Alto was actually hard, because I don't have many pictures of good boys that aren't obviously from a fantasy setting. I actually had to cheat a little bit and throw in some cross dressing girls. I also didn't know how fancy he was supposed to be, so I threw in some real fancy ones and some not so fancy ones. The range here is wider than any of the other characters.

King was both easy and hard. I knew immediately what sort of look I was searching for, but had to discard anything too ostentatious because he already has a canon outfit. I had to go more on vibe than anything. They're just three, but they're all strong boys.

I knew I wanted Clara either spooky and occult, kind of ethereal, or looking like she didn't give a single fuck. Hopefully all three.