Mentions: (Kyra Muller)

---

“I could say the same to you, young lady.”

Behind Kyra several aisles down Devil cocked the hammer of his revolver and pulled the trigger. A deafening crack split the air as a .500 S&W magnum match round was spit from the breech of the revolver. Instead of hurling towards Kyra however the round was aimed upwards towards the ceiling. The match head round sparked against one of the overhead sprinklers before punching through the insulation and clean through the roof.

In an instant water began to fall across the store like a thick, heavy rain as the sprinkler system spread across the store kicked on. Devil, Hermit, Tower, the other robbers, and Gum quickly had their clothes completely soaked by the torrent of water. The tiled floors of the BB&B became slick and reflective as water pooled.

Following the start of the sprinkler system three other robbers (Five of Cups, One of Cups, and 8 of Swords) swung out into the central aisle and trained their sights on Kyra. The laser sights of their AN-94s showing like little red ladybug’s against the fabric of the fox girl’s costume, clearing marking the sensitive vitals they intended to shoot…

“Modern firearms and ammunition have long since been conditioned to withstand water.” Devil said calmly as he adjusted the neck of his tie. “Being totally submerged in water may cause issues, but a little rain is nothing. I can’t say the same for fireballs and extreme heat.”

Behind Devil in the main mattress display section the three remaining robbers finished packing up the drugs and money. They took their guns and sprinted over to the restrained hostages, tied up late night employees, and firmly grabbed ahold of them...

“You’ve shown you can burn us, rather badly,-”

Not too far from where Kyra stood Tower got to his feet, smoke rolling off his clothes as the water extinguished the flames that had been set by the fox girl earlier. The palms of the giant’s hands were darkened by first degree burns.

“But with this much water you won’t be able to outright kill or incapacitate all us that easily. Especially not before we shoot you, and certainly not before we kill the hostages.” Devil snapped his wet, gloved fingers together and the three hostages were quickly dragged out into view of Kyra.

“Anymore attempts at saturday morning cartoon heroics will result in the death of three innocent people, and possibly the death of yourself. So release my idiotic underling and we’ll be on our way. Unless of course you’re dead set on turning this into a bloodbath.”

Hermit whimpered pitifully beneath Kyra’s bootheel, grabbing his own wrist and gritting his teeth at the pressure his hand was put under. All the while Devil stared at Kyra with calculating eyes, finger on the trigger of his revolver as the other three robbers stood ready to fire at any sudden movements.

Off to the side Gum blinked, uncovering his ears and breathing deeply as cold sprinkler water soaked him down to his bone. The end of the deafening roar of military grade ammunition and the shock administered by the cold water snapped the boy back to his senses. Peeking his head over the edge of the tub he quickly surveyed the scene before him.

One fox women and nine armed robbers. Three aiming their guns at the fox women, and three more aiming their guns at hostages.

"Part of me is really happy this is happening, the other part of me is...still pretty excited by this." Gum's mind raced as his eyes flicked about.

The fox girl was obviously a hero, one who had jumped in and saved him from a deafening suppression of gunfire. As he thought about it Gum glanced around and realized that everyone had seemed to have forgotten him. In the excitement all eyes were trained on Kyra. Even the gatling gun wielding giant who moments before had been intent on murdering him, now stood staring at the fox girl with eyes burning with as much hatred as his clothes had fire.

"Now's my chance to run out there and finally get to kick some butt instead of running! But...if I do that then the hostages will get hurt."

Gum's maroon eyes stared through the shelves partially blocking his vision, seeing the squirming figures of the hostages held at gunpoint on the central aisle.

"It's a classic bad-guy trick! Holding innocent people out of arms reach prevents the heroes from simply turning their buttholes inside out. However that only works if the hostages are in danger. The moment a hero rescues them then the bad guys are screwed and it becomes a free for all."

A Cheshire smile flashed across Gum's face as he ducked back down out of sight and crawled across the slick floor. His blue tail flicked behind him as he slipped behind a row of shelves and left the bathtub section, sliding across the water trenched tiles and gradually making his way backwards towards the hostages. The robbers were too preoccupied to notice his movements, but Gum assumed and hoped, the fox-girl would see him moving around to save the hostages.

Model Number: Design Pattern-15X
Designation: "Silver Will" Argevollen
Unit Type: Experimental Testbed Combat Phantom
Manufacturer: Lucen Critical Components/T&B Armaments
Operator: N/A
Rollout: March, 2038
Components:
*Head
*R-Arm *Torso *L-Arm
*R-Leg *Waist *L-Leg
Accommodation: Pilot only, multi-wall monitor closed cockpit in torso.
Dimensions: 10 meters tall
Weight: 40 metric tons
Operating System:
Armor materials: Lucenite/Titanium alloy, fiber reinforced plastic. (Electrically charged armor?)
Powerplant: High output Lucenite genearator x2 located in mid section.
Equipment and design features:
Fixed armaments:
Anti-Armor Dagger “Arkansas Toothpick” design
Knuckle Spikes

Optional hand armaments:
Custom Assault Rifle

Technical History:

---

Brown was used to losing track of time. Trekking across endless miles of countryside, wandering down roads with signs marked in foreign tongues, crossing time zones and national borders without realizing it, all the while not having anything resembling a watch. Forgetting the day or even the month became ludicrously easy as the passage of time seemed to move as fast as Brown did in her travels.

However the moment Brown stopped was the moment everything slowed down. It was rare she stop in her travels, when she did it was often because she didn't have any choice. Broken bones and compounded ribs from botched fights usually being the 'choice'.

Being injured slowed everything down. Brown wasn't one to let pain stop her. Yet even as she bit back the pain of her wounds, she was bitten right back. The pain ate at her. Hindering her movements, her very thoughts. Pain made every single second perceivable.

A cut turned a minute into an hour.

A dislocated shoulder turned a day into a week.

Having twice her usual fare of Full Release injuries at the end of the Rio tournament...well they turned what was a week into a brief eternity for Brown.

For the first three days she couldn't really walk and could only barely sit herself up in bed. However after that she was able to move with some help until she was eventually moving around on her own. By the end of the week and their arrival in Germany her injuries had mostly healed, and time seemed to move seamlessly once again.

Brown sat in the back of the jeep as it chugged along through the bitter Germanic cold. A smile was on her face and she seemed to enjoy every bump and pothole the jeep hit, as if she was on a roller coaster ride.

Despite being in near constant pain for most of the week and under the delirium of high grade pain killers given to her by Jonas, Brown had enjoyed herself. Being around others who didn't seem to want to harm her was a foreign experience for the girl. Outside of her mother there was no one who she had stayed with who hadn't betrayed, fought, or tried to kill her.

Another foreign experience was money.

When Jonas had given her a share of the money he had 'retrieved' from the stadium Brown thought it was just a joke. It was only after she was told he wasn't kidding was she struck with the awe of having currency to buy things with. Of course she didn't know what to do with the sizeable amount of cash and Otsana had helped her put it into a special 'Black' checking account that she could access from various places in the world with different degrees of money exchange.

Brown had kept a good wad of money on her person and was quick to start getting sweets and warm food whenever the chance arose. Everyone had suggested buying warmer clothes for Germany, but Brown merely put down the money for several brick sized bars of sweet German chocolate instead.

As they rode along in the jeep Brown snacked. The sides of her pale cheeks were stained with half-melted/half frozen chocolate as she chewed heartily, grinning and rocking in her seat as she ate.

Brown was still dressed in her battered boots, camouflaged pants, belt in place of a bra, and her battered jacket unzipped at the front. However she seemed un-phased even as the blistering cold blew straight through her.

As a practitioner of G-tummo, Brown could freely control the temperature of her body. Some had to undergo intense meditation. Brown meanwhile had gained such a control over her battered, diseased body that she could adjust her temperature with minor concentration. Even in the bitter cold she felt perfectly fine, though her chocolate bars got very melty in her overly warm hands.

"This chocolate *chew* is so good! *chew* Does anyone want some of-"

Brown held up a gooey chocolate bar nearly half the size of a clip board, speaking with her cheeks packed to the brim with coco goodness. However her offer was cut short as the distant sound of danger reached her ears. Peering into the distance she saw and heard the pretense of a massive, metal machine in the shape of some kind of flying monster.

The fighter's eyes narrowed and her pupils began to dilate, ready for another bloody fight. However the lack of reaction from Jonas snapped her out of her killing focus and she looked around the jeep awkwardly.

"Uh, I've never been to Germany before. Is that super loud murder machine normal? Because I don't think that's normal..."

---

The world was once a terrible place.

Long before the end of the 21st century the world had become stagnant. The countless wonders promised by the vast technological and scientific fields hatched at the dawn of the new millennium gave way to dead ends and disappointment. The more people learned the more they were convinced how little was actually possible.

Space travel, the seed that germinated the idea of a brighter future for so many, was deemed ‘unprofitable’. The vast distances required to go anywhere of meaning proved too intimidating and with no obvious solution funding was gutted from nearly all programs.

Advanced cybernetics. The possibility to cure the ills of countless people and restore the lame seemed to die on the table. Progress stopped at overpriced external prosthetics as the human body was deemed too ‘unpredictable’ to accommodate such things without extreme risk of rejection or death.

Artificial intelligences amounted to nothing more than glorified spreadsheet programs and any further integration was deemed ‘unfeasible’ for the foreseeable future.

And robotics, once igniting the imagination of people everywhere with the television tales of hot blooded heroism and possibility, went nowhere. Clumsy humanoid robots stumbled around like badly made toys. The hurdles needed to make them viable for anything of worth proved too much. Engineers were told to be “realistic” and resigned themselves to building cheap robotic arms to replace factory workers around the world.

For every question, for every hopeful dream of a better and brighter future the world seemed to give a resounding, apathetic “No.”

“Unfeasible”

“Unprofitable”

“Unrealistic”

All the while the world warred. Those who opposed each other did not face one another on the field of battle. No. Wars were fought through by proxy in weak, wilting nations by men who did not care, or think about why they fought or what they fought for. Blind nationalism. Unearned wealth and prosperity. Poisonous arrogance born of past deeds no longer relevant.

With every passing day things only seemed to get worse.

Environmental deterioration. A cavernous gap between rich and poor. Corruption. Deceit. Death. Despair. All the while only news of the bleakest and most profitable kind was reported.

People’s hearts began to ache. Individuals seemed to mean nothing. They had no power, no importance, no hope against the bloated masses of corrupt organization and the black hearted, small minded people who dictated them.

For over a century the world sat, pointing unearned weapons of blind death and destruction at each other. Preventing any real fighting, any progress, any change. From every corner of the globe the world seemed to be held in place by the fat, warted hand of reality.

Then it happened.

Bloated egos burst and keys were turned.

Missiles arced through the sky, piercing the atmosphere as they traveled back down to the ground. Weapons of mass destruction flew, ready to wipe everything of meaning from the face of the earth.

Innocent people cowered by the untold millions, huddling in basements and crying in the arms of their families as people cursed their fate.

“Why? Why did it have to end like this? We could have done something great…”

All the while the corrupt men of privilege sat in bunkers, unphased by the result of their insipid actions. Only concerned about their own survival. Their own continuation and the propagation of their narrow, bleak world views.

Seconds ran down on the clock and across the globe missiles struck the Earth…

And nothing happened.

The missiles exploded of course, crumpling on impact, their fuel and unstable parts igniting like gigantic fireworks as they blew craters into the ground.

But there was no flash. No blinding orb of nuclear fire. Out of the thousands of nuclear warheads launched not a single solitary one detonated like they were meticulously designed to.

People still died of course. Houses were crushed, bases lit aflame, cows crapping in fields flash cooked to perfection by the explosions. Yet it wasn’t even a drop in the bucket compared to the destruction that was supposed to have come from the nuclear holocaust.

One by one people stepped outside and turned their eyes skyward. There in the heavens they saw millions of brilliant lights streaking downwards. All across the globe, day and night, the people of earth were witness to what looked like the largest rain of shooting stars ever recorded in human history.

Moments later strange silvery flakes, like snow, drifted down from the sky upon the troubled Earth.

That day became known as The Silver Fall.

A strange material had fallen to Earth, raining across the world from space. The moment it entered the Earth’s atmosphere it produced a inexplicable effect. It’s mere presence prevented the ignition reactions of the WMDs launched at the time. Nuclear, hydrogen, neutron, whatever the material, whatever the process, it was blocked and canceled out.

Like the breath of an angel it settled as a fine dust across the planet and overnight grew into strange, silver crystals. Initially relieved at their salvation from nuclear annihilation the people reflexively expected the worst from the strange substance even after being saved.

Yet time passed and the material seemed to do nothing. It was pretty and grew rather quickly, but it wasn’t any more harmful than stone or steel. Slowly people relaxed and like most problems the material was trivialized. The stuff was everywhere. On rooftops, in gardens, on roads, atop telephone poles, in the guts of abandoned buildings, and even in places where it simply shouldn’t have been able go.

Clean up programs were organized to get the stuff off the roads, but there was simply too much of it to contain.

Attempts were made to study the material and process went nowhere. The material seemed to spit in the face of the people, in the very laws that dictated what it could and could not do. It’s properties remained erratic, almost eldritch, as if it had a mind and a will all to it’s very own.

It was given the name Lucinite.

Many wrote it off as a useless, potentially hazardous material. Why should they care for something they could not define? Could not dictate and control like everything else?

Political fallout from the launching of nuclear weapons occurred all the while a young man working out of a garage began to experiment with the material. Applying it with a rhyme and reason only he understood he achieved things he hadn’t thought possible. The results were amazing and in just a few short months he created a functional bipedal robot capable of being safely piloted by a human being.

Standing 6 meters tall it was a crude thing, but held immense potential for improvement and application.

Yet his attempts to approach companies and investors were met with mockery, and humiliation. Everyone from construction companies to military financiers seemed to go out of their way to shoot down his ideas even when the working fruits of his efforts stood tall before them.

Stricken with anger and contempt for those who slighted him and his creation, the young man swore to found his own company and disappeared shortly after.

A mere two weeks later and war broke out. Seventeen different countries, including major super powers, took up arms against each other. Arrogant militaries and despotic leaders dragged unwilling civilian populaces into a massive war.

Countless numbers of innocents were killed and with the loss of WMDs, desperate countries turned to the use of illegal and experimental weapons. By the time the dust cleared entire nations had ceased to exist and millions were left dead, homeless, and injured.

During all the turmoil a small company by the name of Lucen Critical Components managed to take advantage. It grew from a small company to a massive conglomerate that stretched across the globe. When the war ended they were one of few major corporations left standing after the massive economic fallout.

Specializing in the production of bipedal humanoid machines simply known as “Phantom Steps” and special power generators utilizing Lucenite as a fuel, The Lucen Conglomerate offered humanitarian aid on a massive scale.

Their PS’s helped rebuild roads, utilities, and homes from the remnants of the United States to the abused underbelly of Africa. Lucenite power generators produced clean, nearly free energy for emergency clinics and hospitals treating the burgeoning number of injured and dying. They even provided safety and security, arming PS’s and protecting civilian populations against remaining rogue military elements.

The Lucen Conglomerate ran up a tremendous amount of expenditures as they did so, nearly going bankrupt in the process. However their efforts did not go unnoticed. Profits skyrocketed as their services, products, and expertise were requested and sought after by people across the globe who had witnessed what they had done.

Thankful families they had helped even outright donated money to the company.

---------------

15 years have passed since then and the Lucen Conglomerate has an iron tight monopoly on Phantom Step technology and Lucenite based power generation. The world is now reliant on them for parts and reactors, as only the CEO understands how to properly produce such mystifying devices.

The company’s grasp was everywhere, and the previous mocked CEO used his influence to enact change.

Following the end of the war, the company helped push certain individuals to suggest the the standing armies of the world were solely to responsible for the war. It was their blind obedience and brain dead discipline that lead to so many deaths. Had the civilian population had any say in it, there would have never been any war.

With many governments near non-existent, the company held tremendous political power. It was suggested that the armies of the world be disbanded, their assets destroyed or repurposed, and that private security forces run and owned by LCC take their place.

“The army exists solely to kill people and destroy things. They have not, and will not ever protect innocent lives. Only a force raised specifically to maintain order and protect can save lives!”

Ten years later and the world is a vastly different place.

Standing militaries are illegalized. The threat of nuclear annihilation seems to be gone forever. Areas of ceaseless conflict from around the world have been pacified and cleansed with advanced fighting machines. Medical, technological, and entertainment no longer seem to have any limits.

The world is at peace...except it’s not.

Lucen Critical Components, the company that helped rebuild the world, now essentially owns and controls it. For all the good they do and wonders they provide, the company has grown oppressive. It stands in the place of governments and it’s will overrules the desires of the people.

For every wondrous possibility, there is a dark and unspoken terror that mirrors it. When anything is possible nightmares can become as real and factual as anything else.

Lucinite has had some strange effects. Certain people have been altered by it and strange, terrible creatures like monsters have begun appearing.

Some people fight for the Lucen C.C, others fight against them.

Gone are the days of impossibility. Of fat, arrogant pessimists dictating the dreams of mankind.

Now is an area of possibility. Of great danger and even greater rewards. Well meaning tyrants and the people who now have the power to truly change things.

All that must be taken is the first step.

A single step is needed to begin a journey of a thousand miles. Some steps are heard. Others are like phantoms. Unseen, unnoticed. But it’s often the things that at first go unnoticed that are the greatest.

It is the Phantom Step.

---

Wading into the water under the bridge wasn't easy. There was a solid five foot drop into the water from the bridge and the edges on both sides. However dropping down into one of the corners of the pond proved successful and Marston found himself only up to his waste in water, opposed to over his head.

Drawing out his hunting knife Marston would wait.

The waters quickly calmed from his entry and within moments fat, dark shapes began to swim towards him. Cautiously they swam around him before beginning to take soft nibbles at his body. Nothing fearsome or worrying. Marston would know from experience some fish would try to eat anything and his dusty clothes had just enough color left in them to attract them.

Once the fish had lost all sense of worry the cowboy would thrust his blade down, stabbing into the water with one clean moment.

The fish scattered in wild panic to the other side of the pond as blood rose to the surface along with the plump corpse of a skewered fish...

>Marston has caught an Arowana!
Arowana

---

Once Marston had returned to the group the decision on where to go was made.

After some deliberation amongst the group the motley assembly of strangers decided it was time to leave leave 2Fort. They stepped outside the confines of the town and into ‘familiar’ stretch of rolling fields most of them had wandered through to arrive in the settlement to begin with. A glance to the north brought with it both a sense of dread and a faint twinkle of optimism as, one by one, the group began to march.

The largely featureless landscape around them made it rather difficult to visually see the progress they were making. What felt like only a brisk stride forward turned out to be several miles with 2Fort little more than a speck in the distance behind them before completely disappearing from sight.

Continuing north with nothing but stale wind and sun beating down on their heads the group began to encounter drastic shifts in the landscape.

Flat plainlands like the ones surrounding 2Fort gave way to scorching dunes where the sand had the consistency of glass. The dunes gave way to frozen, iced over tundras with winds that blew through the light clothing of the travelers. They had only been walking for a few hours but from the way the temperature, land, and light changed around them it felt like they were crossing entire continents and timezones.

The sudden changes might made some of the travelers in the group sick to their stomachs, others dizzy, others still were unaffected but never the less unnerved by the drastic baseless shifts around them.

Eventually however the insane patchwork landscapes of incompatible terrarians gave way to trees, warm air, and gentle sunshine. Working there way up the side of a steep slope they reached the top and found themselves in what appeared to be a forest of some kind. Tall grass, fallen tree trunks, rocky ledges, and tall climbable trees surrounded them with what appeared to be a path leading deeper into the forest to the north of them.

---

Cedar stood beside Quiet. Hunched over with her hands on her knees the young girl struggled to catch her breath and ease her upset stomach after the distance they had walked. The change from hot desert, to frigid tundra, to mild tempered jungle had left the sides of her head pounding. Beneath the skin of her belly her empty stomach gurgled with an audible ache.

"Ughhhhh...I should have...eaten something before I left." Cedar muttered to herself before looking to Quiet.

Despite the hardened, un-bothered expression Quiet wore even she had felt the fatigue of their journey. The horrible cold and extreme heat had sucked a lot of the moisture from her skin. Her mouth was dry and sticky, with her tongue feeling like sand paper against the roof of her mouth.

"As long as the sun is shining I don't need to eat. The parasites will supply me with sugars. But I need water. If I dry out the parasites will begin dying out and if that happens I'll follow suit. Why didn't I bring some water?"

Quiet shook her head in disbelief of herself. Barely a day in a new world and already she was making careless mistakes. Part of her felt the blame fell on the others, especially the girl, for distracting her so much. Throwing blame wouldn't get her fluids though, unless she intended to pair stabbing with her unspoken accusations.

"Are you-you alright?"

Quiet turned and looked to Cedar who looked back with nervous, unsure eyes that prickled with concern. The sniper simply nodded her head and looked away. Though Cedar could tell she was lying. Distracted from their bodily demands the two glanced around at the jungle that surrounded them.

To their left was a fallen tree, big enough that it blocked the area behind it and would either needed to be climbed or crawled beneath. Behind the fallen tree in a little area was a proper standing tree with thick branches and wide leaves. Directly ahead of them was a large tree covered in vines with a single large branch that seemed ideal for standing on. To their right was various patches of tall grass and rocky, ledge ridden protrusion from the ground.

"T-there's probably a lot of things here if we look. Maybe you can get what you need here?" Cedar gestured to the trees and the grasses which for all she knew could be hiding fruits and veggies. The silent sniper simply glanced at her with an unwelcoming frown, forcing the teen to look away.

Quiet however had to admit she was right.

"Foraging in a place like this might be worth wild. Though there's no telling what's ahead..."

Character Status:
Quiet- Moderately Thirsty
Cedar Birch- Very Hungry, Very Thirsty- Minor Fatigue
Sarah Kerrigan- Mild Hunger
John Marston- Moderate Hunger, Minor Fatigue
Lily- Moderate Hunger, Minor Thirst
Julian- N/A, Power at 90%
The Batter- N/A
Abe- Minor Thirst
El Presidente- Very Hungry, Very Thirsty, Minor Fatigue

Note: Traveling to new areas will typically be taxing on certain characters. Hunger, Thirst, and fatigue can occur during travel though different characters are effected to different degrees. The use of food items, medications, or certain abilities can reverse or negate these effects. If left untreated hunger, thirst, and fatigue will hinder your character's efforts in both combat and general action. Extreme instances of such may even result in death...

---

Far to the north of the 2Fort travelers on the other end of the jungle, another group stood. Complete strangers to one another the four had all crossed the same rickety, make-shift bridge across a large cavernous crevice. The last one across made it just in time as the crude bridge folded and dropped into the threatening darkness below. With no way back the four would be left with one a single away forward, a narrow passage to the south.

Around them was a small grassy area surrounded by thick jungle. A single large rock and a tall, leaf-less tree (not tall enough to reach the other side of the crevice if felled) were the only things of particular note. The area was completely unfamiliar to all but one of the group.

Naked Snake would recognize this area as the place where he had fought Ocelot in their first proper duel...

Having been focused on their travels the four would only begin to realize the others presence. It would be up to them to decide on how to act, move, and treat one another...

Character Status:
*Naked Snake: Moderate Hunger, Minor Fatigue
*The Merchant: N/A
*Poppy: Moderate Hunger
*Tam Fiernas: Minor Hunger, Minor Thirst

---

Standing atop the moss crusted trunk of the fallen tree Lily, Max, and Marston were finally able to see over to the other side. There, isolated by steep sheer rock faces on all sides save for the one where Lily stood, was a fat trunked tree. It stood tall and healthy with thick branches and colorful leaves that splayed outwards like open welcoming hands. At it’s base strange flora grew unmolested by the various critters the jungle likely had, or once had.

Surrounding the tree was flat ground interspaced with tall, lush green grass of the darkest hue. Wispy little insects, the kind that made people rub their eyes thinking they had floaters, drifted around the miniature glade as a gentle breeze swept down through the little area. Standing over the enclosed, almost secret space gave the strangest impression of peace in the otherwise foreign place.

It all seemed so natural, so untouched by human hands that out of the corner of their eyes the three were able to quickly spot something out of place…

There, sitting in the tall grass barely visible among the blades, was a large wooden chest. Made of dark wood and held together by a studded iron framework the container appeared very old, without actually seeming old. It was the kind of thing anyone could recognize as being a museum piece, a surviving antique or a replicate one would find in museums on medieval history.

Yet it showed no obvious signs of rot, rust, or deterioration other than the traces of dirt and pollen left on it by the forest. The chest remained amongst the grass like a child playing hide and seek. Trying to keep out of sight, but quietly hoping to be found…

Age: 21
Gender: Female
Origin: Chicago, United States of America
Appearance: Iris is a tomboyish girl standing 5,8 with maroon eyes, a gaunt but athletic figure, and an a-cup bust leaving her with a mostly flat chest. Her hair is styled in a pixy cut dyed sky blue with little streaks of stark neon yellow running through it. Typically dressed in a rebellious, tattered clothes Iris can often be mistaken for a teenager or seen as an immature young women.

However the mechanical brace on her leg and the black paneling of her threatening right arm often draw attention away from her youthful face and bright hair. From her shoulder to the tips of her fingers Iris's arm has been replaced with an advanced cybernetic prosthetic. And not a common model either, compact yet thick, made up of interlocking yet flexible armor plates with shielded joints. The arm itself is black but has been crudely spray painted sky blue like her hair.

In stark contrast to her rather advanced looking right arm a crude, almost scrap brace clings to her right leg. The leg itself is heavily scared, denoting muscle damage that was never fully recovered from. The


Nickname/Handle: "The Dull Blade" or "Dull"

Psychological Analysis: Fancy talk for 'Personality'. Give me a good paragraph or so describing your character's personality. Rule of thumb: the more detail, the better.

Personal Record: Iris Stritch was born in Chicago, but moved to upstate New York a year afterwards where she spent the remainder of her childhood. She was the daughter of a young US Airforce pilot and a former hacker turned software designer. Due to her mother's cold attitude towards her the young Iris often gravitated towards her father, becoming infatuated with flight due to his profession.

Despite being in the military Iris's father was not obsessed with discipline or blindly patriotic. In fact he had a distinct, questioning attitude with a harsh view of authority. As she reached her teens Iris emulated her father, becoming outspoken, rebellious, and developing powerful anti-authority sentiments that would never truly leave her.

After a colorful run through high school Iris graduated and immediately attempted to enroll in the Air Force to become a pilot like her father. While dedicated, well versed on flight, and possessing a surprising affinity for aircraft, Iris was washed out of the air force due to disciplinary issues.

Where the other young men and women were happy to do as they were told, Iris was never fully comfortable being blindly subservient to others. This eventually got her thrown out, but not before she caught the eye of an executive from an aeronautics company. Already familiar with her father the man offered to give her a job, interested in seeing her through the proceedings to become a licensed civilian pilot so she could benefit his company.

While not what she had in mind Iris was happy to take the job. Her father was happy for her but there were others who were not. She'd made enemies of the other young air force attendees. Their ass kissing, blind obedience sickened her and she chided them, calling them 'glorified wind up toys'.

They came to blows with her, trying to beat her in her sleep, but Iris was the one who ended up doing the beating and was thrown out for the incident. Before she was sent away though her fellows arranged a 'going away' present. A staged accident involving a truck and old antique plane parts being shipped to a museum.

The result nearly killed her, severing her right arm at the shoulder and maiming her right leg. Iris woke up in the hospital in blinding pain. Hours after waking up she was informed her father had been shoot down and killed, and shortly after that received news that aeronautics company was no longer interested in hiring her.

After recovering and suffering through physical therapy, Iris came home to her grieving mother. Normally cold her mother was angry with her and the two argued, leading to Iris being thrown out of the house. Missing an arm, jobless, and reduced to walking with a limp, Iris had seemingly nowhere to go.

The only consultation was that upon her father's death a large sum of money had been left to her. Iris could have easily gotten a home and begun work on making a new life for herself.

But Iris was angry. Angry at her mother, at her father, at the air force, at the government, at the world. So she took her money and went searching. Tapping into some black market connections she'd made through unsavory friends, Iris blew the vast majority of her money on a high grade bleeding edge cybernetic arm and a back alley doctor to install it.

The process was painful and though advanced the arm had been stripped of it's more interesting hardware so she could afford it. As soon as she woke up and grew accustomed to the arm, she used what little money she had left to fashion a mechanical brace for her bum leg and bought a plane ticket to Japan.

Iris took a one way trip far, far away from her homeland with nothing to her name but the clothes on her back and the cybernetics in her body. Hitting the streets Iris spent the first few weeks wandering aimlessly, hungry, confused, and living like a hobo.

Slowly she caught up on the language and found work, freelance largely illegal work for local gangs and yakuza. Iris felt a strange joy in the fighting and jobs she undertook. While she took the money of her employers she was ultimately the one who decided what to do.

If there was a job she didn't like, she didn't take it. If a job took a turn she didn't like, she didn't put up with it. Iris became a "Street Samurai".

Years passed and before Iris knew it she'd spent nearly two years on the street. It wasn't long before she craved a change of location and moved to China where she fell in with a mercenary group.

She had little tolerance for their military-esque elements, but they were willing to hire her and she was willing to play ball until she found something better or was forced to leave...

Equipment:
*KNIFE-9 Arm: An advanced cybernetic prosthetic that though 2 years old by this point is still a very rare, and very valuable piece of hardware. The Knife-9 is a compact but powerful arm designed explicitly for close quarters combat and concealability. Originally the Knife-9 was supposed to be installed with nine combat modules, all of one of these were removed when it was sold piecemeal on the black market.

Iris's Knife-9 only had the knuckle claws function left intact, though the blades of the flaws had been replaced with inferior knock offs. The blades quickly broke and were reduced to glorified spikes.

Rolling with what she had Iris began to use the Knife-9 to give her an advantage in unarmed combat. The Knife-9 arm is powerful, using artificial muscles and micro servomotors to produce stunning physical output. With it she could crush ribcages and snap normal arms like twigs.

The Knife-9 is able to overpower even other cybernetic arms, able to overwhelm all but specialized models.

The interlocking but flexible armor that makes up and covers the arm gives it tremendous durability and in turn makes the arm a powerful bludgeoning weapon. The armor can stop small to medium arms, even capable of taking blows for otherwise dedicated armor piercers before succumbing to damage.

Due to all the removed hardware the arm leaves a lot of space for additional upgrades, equipment, and cyberware.

*Wristbow: Iris isn't the biggest fan of guns but understands the importance of ranged weapons. So instead of a pistol she carries a compact, forearm mounted, high tension crossbow or a 'wrist bow'. It's able to silently launch bolts at enemies from fair distances. Though they don't travel as fast as a bullet the bolts still hurt and are more then capable of piercing armor, in fact the bolts are better suited at piercing certain armors then traditional bullets are.

The wristbow is easily concealed and can fire a wide variety of bolts and ammunition types though Iris only currently has standard bolts.

*Standard Bolts x20

*NanoKav Vest: Nanokevlar vest, stock standard for many organizations and places. Nanofibers weaved in a protective webbing capable of stopping small arms fire and offering some degree of protection from medium firearms. Though not the best protection, especially for a close quarters brawler like herself, it's all she can afford.

She always wears it underneath her clothes. [/hider]

---

The young punkish girl’s eyes lit up like Christmas trees as she turned, looking up at the towering (at least for someone of her short stature) robot that had been willingly placed under her command. For a moment no intelligible words left her lips as she pressed her hands to the sides of her face and squeed like the teenage girl she was.

“My own giant robot to order around? T-this is so cool!” Cedar practically bounced in place grinning like a loon as she took in the previously rather frightening robot’s features. All fear and hesitancy she had towards the machine vanished once she felt she was in control of the machine.

“I order you to let me ride on your shoulders! And don’t drop me or tear off my head or anything.” Cedar added, almost as an afterthought.

Still well within hearing distance Quiet pursued her lips at Lily’s orders. Scouting parties typically worked better when they were small. The more people there were in one the less effective and more easily detected they were likely to be. Quiet couldn’t help the order was simply out of mistrust, Miller had given similar ones regarding her on Mother Base.

Yet she couldn’t deny the potential usefulness of the robot. Even with the liability of having an inexperienced young girl at the helm the machine was likely to have far better judgement then the teenager. In a way Julian reminded Quiet a little of the Boss’s D-Walker, albeit bigger and even more humanoid. It was ideal for attack and could be surprisingly concealable when needed.

“If things go badly or we run into something we can’t get away from, the machine will be important to have around.” Approaching the base of the mighty tree Marston would be faced with a thick mess of unfamiliar flora he would have to root through with his hands. It didn't take long to realize most of what he saw was little more then spiny grasses and colorful weeds. Yet amongst the chaff he would quickly begin finding eye catching particulars of note:

The first was a trio of mushroom growths sticking out the side of the tree's trunk like rounded little platforms. They lacked stems and the typical tell-tale signs of poisonous mushrooms. While less then appearing in appearance they seemed perfectly edible and possibly even quite healthy. Taste on the other hand...

Then, amongst the grasses, Marston would spot what looked like a bean pod. The biggest and greenest he'd ever seen before. Upon reaching out and pulling it off it's inappropriately thin vine, he would feel the sudden inexplicable urge to hold the bean pod over his head.

Reaching inside the chest and holding what he found to the light, Payne would be greeted with a brief sense of elation. He could practically imagine the item spinning in his hands as he held it over his head, finally recognizing just what it was in the soft light of the jungle...

---

On the other side of the forest Courier 6 would turn the dial on her Pipboy, scanning through signal ranges in desperation to hear anything of meaning. For several moments she heard nothing by static. A drone of white noise interlaced with pops and cracks. Every now and then she'd swear a word or voice could be heard amongst the static, but it was hard to tell if it had actually been there or if she was imagining what she wanted to hear.

Eventually, like a dam breaking, the mind numbing blare of the static gave way to an unusually peaceful tune.

A wordless song with the gentle strumming of an electric guitar and the happy plonking of a piano. Everyone around the Courier would feel a sudden, strange lift to spirits. Those weary from the long travel would feel rested and those not tired would feel alive with energy.

[NAKED SNAKE is no longer fatigued]
[Poppy, Merchant, Courier 6, and Tam Fiernas all gain a minor enhancement to stamina for the next hour]

Then, like an abusive father kicking in the door to an otherwise peaceful home, the music cut out and a voice blared out over the radio.

"YOU HAVEN'T MADE YOUR SCHEDULED REPORT"

Clear and demanding like a military commander the voice spilled from the speakers of the Courier's Pipboy. After a brief moment of silence another voice, younger then the first, spoke.

"The situation is normal. All clear."

Both voices spoke in English, but had varying degrees of what was a Russian accent to those who could recognize it.

"ALL PERSONNEL RETURN TO YOUR STATIONS. Keep a watch for any more of those machines. We are currently interrogating the subject for further information. There might be allies of his in the area so remain vigilant. The scheduled radio frequency change will begin now."

Then the voice cut out, leaving nothing but the whine of the static...

---

Invasions of changelings. Long slumbering conquerors. Relics of untold and heinous power. The cruel humor of a mad god of chaos. While countless dangers had befallen the magical land of Equestria in the past it was always the honest hearts of the ponies, pegasi, and unicorns that ensured it's prosperity time and time again.

One such unicorn, Twilight Sparkle, had begun experimentation on a new form of teleportation spell. It was during a bright and sunny morning that her eagerness finally outstretched her normally meticulous precautions. During her first proper casting of the spell she made a mistake.

In a flash of blinding, overpowering light Twilight found herself in a strange alien place. Cold, colorless rock seemed to cover every inch of the ground around her as constructs of glass and steel stretched into the sky above her head. It was only after casting her spell for the first time did Twilight realize it didn't simply take her to another location, but another realm entirely.

Within moments of arrival she spotted the residents of the world. Strange creatures unlike the ponies she was used to seeing. Though she wished to return home without incident her curiosity got the better of her.

After a series of long panicked misunderstandings regarding her nature Twilight was able to return home, having started a dialogue between Equestria and the strange new world of “Earth”. For a time everypony in Equestria was abuzz with talk of the new world, the new race, and the wondrous potentials that seemed to await them.

The creatures who lived on the new world, ‘Humans”, had a lot to offer. While they were ignorant and incapable in all things magic they had a wondrous grasp over the non-magical manipulation of the world around them. Trade was incredibly enticing to the humans and had the potential to be immensely lucrative for the Equestrians.

The first exchange was simple. Basic magic spell books in exchange for human science and physics textbooks. It seemed like a harmless, almost childish trade. Like students trading reading material between classes. Though Unicorn magic was largely useless to the humans, the spell books still acted as an introduction to an art long since dead and buried on Earth.

Just the mere possibilities the books presented were enough to ignite something in the humans.

Something dangerous.

It wasn’t long before human researchers managed to extrapolate the means of harnessing magic for themselves and a glorified magics arms race exploded between opposing human groups. Basic magical knowledge was used to engineer grotesque weapons that immediately made mankind’s previous arsenal of mass destruction utterly obsolete.

The Equestrians were left gaping in shock as the Humans twisted basic, almost mundane magic into horrifying engines of doom.

Plans were quickly made by the Equestrians to intervene. To warn the humans and do everything in their power to dissuade them from abusing magic any further before it was-

T̞̪o̜ͅo҉̳̫͕͈͍̹ ̡̹̪̙̗̮͖̮l̻͖̼a̢͔̜̝͎̪͖t̹̪̞e҉̹͚̖̞̞ͅ.

Tensions boiled over and with weapon and ritual in hand the humans rent the world asunder.

THE RENDINGbegan.

The Earth shuttered as it was smashed by the ungodly might being unleashed. In the blink of an eye countless people died. Cities, entire chunks of landmass vanished as fire, light, and freezing cold splintered through the sky. In a matter of minutes all of human civilization, from governments and organizations, to the very law itself crumbled into nothingness as chaos swept over the land.

Though the violence ended quickly the deaths did not. The simultaneous use of so much destructive magic spread an unstable residue energy across the entire Earth. At first it seemed to do nothing. Then after a few days it began to effect the adult humans in ghastly ways. Millions began to die from mass organ failure. Those who didn't die lost themselves as were gradually warped and twisted into horrific monstrosities.

Younger adolescent humans were seemingly unaffected by the energy, but many found themselves alone as their parents died or tried to claim their lives in fits of inhuman madness.

By the time Equestria stepped in to give aid the entire adult population of the Earth had either been killed through fighting and illness, or rendered inhuman by the aftermath of their own weapons. They arrived to a smashed world filled with nothing but monsters and frightened, confused children and teens.

Equestria was confronted with an utter nightmare and began to devote a great deal of resources to resolving the crisis.

They formed an ‘army’ of sorts made up of guards to establish order, volunteers to treat and care for the massive amounts of young human survivors, and brave individuals tasked with getting rid of the remaining magical weapons both living and inert made by the humans.

It was difficult, dangerous, threatening work but the Equestrians achieved great success for their efforts. Yet they were still left with the survivors of a civilization that had no way of leading or rebuilding itself properly.

Countless debates were held and a torrent of concerns were raised. Many felt it wasn't right to expect the traumatized masses of young humans to fend for themselves after what had happened. Some feared that if left to themselves they would simply repeat what they had done, either on themselves or Equestria.

In an atmosphere of uncertainty a solution was presented...

Equestria would take Earth into its territorial domain as a kind of colony. Special facilities called ‘Reform Schools’ would be built on Earth. Here the young humans would be taken and have their memories erased with powerful magic. Freeing them of the burdens and traumas of their pasts. Allowing them to start their lives anew and be re-raised and re-educated under Equestrian values.

The plan concerned and deeply worried some. Yet few could argue with the results. Human children, who days before were left nearly catatonic from grief, were smiling and playing with others. Seeing the pain gone from their eyes made it difficult to object to the plan...

---

Ten years has passed since then and the world has changed.

The Earth has healed remarkably fast thanks in part to the assistance of the Equestrians. Forests grow, fields rise, and the wilderness has rapidly reclaimed much of the once overpopulated Earth. Abandoned towns, blasted cities, and the forgotten remains of facilities are now overgrown with the creeping tendrils of nature.

In the years since the construction of the reform schools Equestria has built it’s own settlements on Earth which has come to be seen as a new frontier. A wilder, more dangerous place of adventure and opportunity. Increasing numbers of ponies, griffons, dragons, and other races have immigrated to Earth in search of employment and a new start.

Only the settlements built or rebuilt by the Equestrians are readily lived in and considered safe. Outside of the new businesses constantly opening up there is a demand for explorers, scavengers, and adventurers on Earth. A hidden wealth of technology, riches, and secrets wait to be found in the otherwise abandoned areas of the world.

Along with the rush of opportunity the Equestrians have benefited immensely from adopting various elements of human technology. Firearms, radios, modern materials, motor vehicles, advanced electronics, robotics, computers, and more have been reverse engineered and given a unique twist by the Equestrians.

While Equestria itself remains just as rural and rustic as it’s always been, the settlements on Earth employ a mix of old and new technology. Crank operated cash registers are used in stores that sell motorized carriages while guards in knight like armor made from ‘modern’ materials patrol the streets with the assistance of vacuum tube filled surveillance robots. (Think something similar to Fallout Equestria in a sense)

The humans meanwhile live happy lives. Those who 'graduated' from reform school work and live in the settlements. While the children and teens still in the reform schools receive regular meals, education, and care with some even being adopted by Equestrian families.

However all is not well.

Dangerous creatures inhabit the wilderness of the Earth. The magical energies that ended the adults seemingly altered many of animals of the world. Turning them from simple beasts of instinct to highly aggressive, invasive, and murderous monsters. Other, far older dangers were seemingly awoken by the release of magic on Earth as things once only heard of in legend began to appear.

Some humans have also begun to remember things. Complete restoration of their memories was supposed to be impossible and it was. Yet that didn't stop fragments of memory from surviving. Phrases, locations, faces, names, bits and pieces of things without much if any context.

Even during the first year of the reform schools some children weren't as happy as others. They experienced nightmares, retained phobias and biases from before their memory wipes, and developed problematic personality traits. After ten years they've grown into rebellious 'problem children' that cause issues within the otherwise harmonious Reform Schools and in the Equestrian settlements on Earth.

On top of all that strange rumors have begun to spread as of late. Whispers say that somewhere on Earth is an artifact. An artifact of fabulous power that can grant any wish. Accomplish any task. Bring to life any desire. Accomplish even that which is unobtainable even through magical means.

And the rumors whisper that it is somewhere near the Equestrian settlement of Bellbrooke, located in the former British Isles...

Most assume it is nothing more then a story, but there are those who have taken a deep interest in the rumor. Even now schemes are being hatched and a shadow has begun to loom over both Equestria and Earth...

---

*Prototype Character Sheet WIP*




Falling Down is a young, human, teenage girl who reeks of adolescent rebellion. Standing 5,7 with a cocky smile and messy unkempt brown hair styled in a crude pixy cut of sorts, she's never far from trouble. Her maroon colored eyes, turned an unnaturally red shade after exposure to the radiant wave following the release of mankind's magical doomsday weapons, either gleam with her typical boisterousness or grow dull in her far more common boredom.

Her constant constant activity has left her with a light athletic build and light but healthily toned skin. Though fair her skin is course and calloused in places, mainly her knees and the palms of her hands. Scars and remnants of recent cuts and scrapes can often be found dotting her hands or legs.

As of her recent transfer between Reform Schools, Falling is dressed in beaten red and white sneakers, battered jeans with the knees worn out and patched, a white t-shirt with a design that's long since faded from vision, and a denim jacket that's got ragged at the sleeves and threatens to fall apart at the slightest provocation.

• Mistrusting
• Disloyal
• Lacking Confidence
• Lonely
• Adventerous
• Curious, but easily bored
• Passionate
• Brave

Iris Strich was born in Ontario, Canada to a young upstart police officer and a sleepy eyed office worker. From her seven-year old viewpoint her life was nothing short of idyllic. A pleasant haze of 1st grade elementary school, sugary breakfast cereals, stuffed animals, and nights watching television alone downstairs as her parents failed to show up from work on time to feed her dinner.

Then in a single hour Iris's happy, predictable life was shaken to it's core as her country was thrown into blind panic at the terrible destruction around it.

The Rending had happened.

Law and order dissolved like gasoline soaked paper put to the match as countless people attempted to flee from the chaos and into the wilderness. Transports were taking people to safety, but there was only so much room and so much time.

Her parents rushed on foot from their house to meet one of the last transports, dragging Iris behind them as she went. Being just seven years old Iris slowed them down and seeing they were about to be left behind her parents did something that was forever burned into her mind.

They let go of her hand and ran.

Without a single sign of hesitation Iris parent's abandoned her and hurled themselves onto the transport just as it took off, leaving the little teary eyed girl behind as they disappeared into the clouds above.

Left alone Iris was forced to fend for herself, wandering the lawless streets still in a daze at what had happened. It wasn't long before she met others like her and found what she believed to be friendship. Iris put her trust in those she met, only for them to betray her as soon as she became an inconvenience for them. Embittered and hurt, Iris soon treated everyone she met as if they were inevitably going to throw her away.

However a seven year old who didn't trust anyone wasn't well equipped for survival and Iris was left on the verge of starvation when the Equestrians came. They rounded her and countless other surviving children up, taking them to a secure camp where they were fed and had their injuries mended.

Though she was saved by them Iris only expected the worst from the Equestrians, like she had begun to do with everything else. Eventually the Equestrians began to lead the children away from the group, one by one. Iris grew suspicious but didn't sense any danger as she was lead to a small room with just a chair inside.

Sat down in the chair Iris was told to wait and begrudgingly she did. Time passed and Iris began to feel strange. She began to lose focus, it became hard to think, and the urge to sleep became overwhelming. Closing her eyes Iris fell asleep and when she woke up, she remembered nothing.

Having her memory erased, Iris was given the name "Falling Down" and was happy for a time. As happy as she had been before the chaos, maybe even more so. Yet a few days after the erasing she began to experience odd nightmares. There were times during the day when she was struck with the overwhelming fear of being abandoned. She felt as if everyone was going to cast her aside and turn their backs on the promises they made to her if she became a burden. Though Falling’s memory had been erased she still remembered that someone had betrayed her before…

These memories colored the rest of her life from that point. Falling grew mistrustful of the other kids, distancing herself from them for fear of being hurt. Falling had difficulty doing what she was told and following the advice of the teachers, feeling they would mislead her. She no longer felt safe around them, around anyone. Once she became a teenager Falling became overtly rebellious, disobeying rules, starting fights, and causing a number of problems.

Falling was moved from Reform School to Reform School. Each time she was moved in the hopes of her being able to get a new start and finally get the help she needed to start living her life, instead of simply living in fear. Yet Falling proved uncooperative and her behavior ended up becoming self sabotage.

She’s only recently been transferred to Bellbrooke a week ago. Though Falling isn’t happy with the transfer, it feels like this may be her last chance…

Athletic: Falling is highly athletic. Though she dislikes sports because of the teamwork inherently involved in many of them, her less then acceptable activities around the Reform Schools she's been in have kept her physically active in a multitude of ways. As a result she possesses quick reflexes, enough strength to lift herself, and a superb running speed with stamina to match.

Brawler: Constant mistrust, fear of abandonment, unbridled emotional issues, and delinquent tendencies have gotten Falling into plenty of fist fights and brawls. Though they were usually between other children her age, she's taken enough hits and thrown enough punches to gain a general idea of how to wield violence effectively against her enemies and obstacles.

Sleight of Hand: While Falling has done many unpleasant and inappropriate things, she's largely avoided outright thievery for fear of what the repercussions could be. However she's made a habit of finding and keeping things she really isn't supposed to have. As a result the girl has had some practice with hiding knickknacks, books, sharp objects, and various other things from watchful eyes. Making it seem like she's gotten rid of something when she hasn't has become second nature to her.

Daydreamer:While not exactly a great student Falling is an avid reader. Of fiction. She's read countless adventure stories and is rather knowledgeable on them. Not that knowing the tales of a fictional hero in a fictional world have ever been much used to her, but it makes her a vivid day dreamer who often slips off mentally when bored out of her gourd.


Iris is ignorant in the ways of magic and possesses no magical artifacts or items, but that doesn't mean her interest in such things is by any means low. She searches high and low in the hopes of finding some wondrous thing that will solve all of her problems...



Regular Human Clothes: Clothes made before the fall of humanity. On the verge of becoming threadbare in places, but fitting and comforting. Offers little if any protection from ranged, magical, or melee attacks. May attract moths.

Iron Pipe: A four foot length of iron piping with a heavy duty ball valve at the end. Falling picked it up with the intent of making something out of it, but quickly began to use it for hitting things she didn't like while exploring outside the school.

Bolo: Seeing the strange weapon in a half-burnt book she found while exploring outside the school, Iris replicated the weapon using a length of rope and a pair of round brass weights. Swinging the weapon over her head Iris can, supposedly, hurl the weapon and entangle her enemies legs. Provided she can actually hit them.

One-Half a pair of Binoculars: A pair of broken binoculars, made decades ago. Snapped in half Iris uses the remaining mostly functioning half she has as a spyglass of sorts.

Backpack: A teal, medium sized backpack littered with all manner of pockets and straps. It's where Iris stashes everything she finds on her unauthorized trips outside of school.

Give a detailed written description regarding your character's appearance. Make sure to go over skin/coat color, eye color, hair style and color, body type, body height, notable marks or scars, and aspects specific to their race (tails, horns, scales, claws, est).

• No need to write a thesis on your character's personality
• That you'll likely forget half of
• Just list out general traits
• Here
• And let their personality show through your writing
• In the actual roleplay

Tell us the events in your character's life that shaped who they are. We don't need to know what they ate for breakfast every single morning or how many times they collectively wiped their rears. Go over the important aspects while guiding us through the events that lead them where they are at the start of the roleplay.

What your character is knowledgeable and practiced in. If they are a pony then specify their Cutie Mark and the special talent is allots them, provided of course they're not a blankflank.

Write out and detail any magical spells, relics, special techniques (accomplished through martial skill or other means), or natural abilities your character has access to. When it comes to magic (be it Equestrian or Earthly magic) magic users have to specify what spells they know, so they can't continually pull new spells out of their butts at their convenience.

Using magic effectively doesn't mean having a spell for every occasion, it means having a handful of spells you can apply creatively to solve a wide variety of problems.

Go over and specify each noteworthy piece of gear your character starts off with. This covers firearms, melee weapons, clothing, armor, books, equipment, medicines, potions, ammunition, medical supplies, and the like. If your character starts with money you are limited to a certain amount.

---

The tall grass stretched from the crevice through the narrow path leading to it all the way to another far larger and more open area on the other side. Slithering his way through the lush green blades Naked Snake would be greeted to a familiar, yet changed sight. The Bolshaya Past Base in all it's crude, Soviet glory. Still sitting amongst the woods like nothing had happened.

From where the FOX agent lay there were few obstructions to his sight allowing him to observe the base safely and properly. It still seemed mostly the same. The 'base' was made up of a few different sections. A central building that acted as a crude barracks with a side room for lockers and storage. A radio room to the immediate right of the crevice path. A food storage shack to the north of the central building. A munitions storage shack tucked all the way into the north east corner of the area.

And a helipad.

It was really just a flat area beside the base cleared of grass with the exposed earth giving it a crude slap-job feel. Crude or not it worked as parked on the space was what appeared to be some kind of helicopter. Landing wheels perched in the dirt and unmoving.

From a distance the helicopter seemed very similar to the 'Hind' helicopters Naked Snake had seem numerous times during his mission. His first encounter of which was at the very same base he found himself at. Yet the helicopter didn't look the same. It was sleeker and the silhouette differed in several areas from the original making it look more advanced and refined then the Hinds he had seen previously.

Regardless of what it was it still seemed to be a 'Hind' type helicopter and appeared to be armed. Heavy machine-guns, rocket pods, missile racks. Whether or not it actually was armed or even worked was another matter entirely though...

A crude trench ran around part of the perimeter of the building. Deep enough to crawl around it but a short enough gap someone could easily jump over with wooden pallets draped across the gaps as make-shift bridges.

It wasn't long after starting to watch Snake would begin to notice movement and begin to see men walking around the area. Uniformed man patrolling with automatic rifles close to their chests.



They were dressed in thick camouflaged fatigues and wore black balaclavas over their faces. While the camo they wore wasn't anything Naked Snake would recognize they held themselves like proper soviet soldiers. Each was armed with what looked like an AK-47, but it seemed to small and compact to fit the bill.

Though they patrolled the base diligently the soldiers seemed unfamiliar with the area as they kept looking around and watching their feet, as if fearful of what might be present. Many soldiers had opened their uniforms or outright taken off their shirts as the heat of the jungle had gotten to them through their somewhat thick uniforms.

Out of the three soldiers Snake could see outside each seemed worn down. Exhausted with untreated scrapes and bruises marking the exposed parts of their bodies. None of the soldiers seemed to have their full kit with them either. Carrying very little on them besides their weapon and whatever they had in their pockets...

More soldiers were likely inside or behind the buildings, but in their current state they seemed vulnerable. As long as they weren't alerted they were likely easy picking...


Walking to the south Poppy, Six, and the Merchant would find themselves before a crude base. Threatening uniformed men walked about the place, heads turning from side to side as they searched for intruders.

One was just a few feet away while another was a greater distance away to the south west. Both had their backs turned to them though and seemed largely oblivious of their presence.

---

---

Meanwhile on the other side of Tselinoyarsk, a teenage girl seated herself atop a barely restrained homicidal robot.

Cedar used Julian's decreased height from his kneeling and his outstretched arm as leverage to monkey up his mechanical body. After a few awkward moments of scuffing her sneakers against his otherwise clean armor plating she seated her legs over his shoulders and sat down. Like a tired little girl sitting on the shoulders of her much larger, angrier mechanical father.

"WOOOOOOOO! Let's go that way! Robot power all the way!" Cedar threw up her arms and cheered as she ordered Adrien forward, prompting a barely audible sigh from Quiet as she looked on in uncomfortable bafflement.

"The strategic value. Think of the strategic value."


Those who began to move to the north did so to find the other half of the area which was made up of a large clearing with a tree and the other wise of the rockface they had seen when they first arrived. The farther they walked north the taller and thicker the grass began to get. Quiet found the grass coming to her hips as she waded forward, following Cedar and Julian as they took point.



Continuing northward they would follow a grass choked path that was largely unremarkable. Quiet noted that given how narrow it was anyone approaching where they had started, their 'camp', would have to come from through the path which meant they would have the advantage if they were defending. At least against normal enemies...


The grassy path eventually broke out into an open area. Quiet and Ceder's faces immediately scrunched up as they were met with a wet, rotting smell. They were in some kind of small bottomless swamp. A pool of dark, vicious mud at least 30 feet across spread out before them like a foul pond. It gurgled and squelched, shifting slightly as gasses and other liquids made their way to the surface every now and then.

"Ugh, gross." Ceder muttered, shaking her head at the smell as she looked around.

At first glance the mud part of the swamp seemed too far to jump over. Though Quiet felt she could make the other side with her enhanced jumping abilities.

Encircling the swamp was a ridge of proper earth. It wasn't very wide, barely enough to shimmy along and even then one wrong step would put someone in the mud of the swamp. Yet off to the side there was a little 'island' out cropping in the mud with a thin bony tree growing on it. Amidst the branches of the tree a fat, active beehive buzzed with the working of hundreds of insects.

"How are we going to get-" Ceder looked to Quiet, hoping to get some kind of advice from her, but the women only raised a finger to silence her.

Quiet extended her arm and pointed to the other side of the swamp. There on hard, dry land were two things. They looked like dinosaurs, raptors specifically but drastically different in some respects. Both of the creatures were tall roughly the height of horses. Standing on their hind legs with thick straight tails extending backwards they leaned over, biting and clawing at some bloody mess on the ground with their stubby arms.

The two monsters, Genprey, seemed unaware humans had entered their new territory and stood with their backs to them...

◇Physical Description◇

Lycoris stands 5,7 with pale skin and a light, gaunt figure. At the start of her journey Lycoris had brown eyes and ratty brown hair. However a decade of practicing necromancy, as well as her initial exposure to ambient magical energies released during The Rending, her eyes turned a striking shade of purple and her hair grew into a dark lavender. Always sitting atop her nose are a pair of glasses for her near sighted vision. The pair she has now is her most recent pair, as Lycoris had to scavenge for new glasses over the years as she grew and her sight changed.

While at first glance Lycoris might seem like a somewhat sickly, if normal girl, the numerous scars on her body quickly draw the eyes and worry of others. Streaking across the left side of her forehead is a grievous burn scar that settled into the middle. At the center of the scar amidst the pinkish-red tissue is a clump of jagged black rock sticking up out of her skin.

This is a fragment of meteorite shrapnel that grazed her ten years prior, embedding itself into her skin and fusing to the frontal bone of her skull from the sheer heat it possessed. It was only thanks to the angle of its entry and sheer luck that it didn’t outright pierce her skull or cook her brains.

Her forearms also bare a number of scars, both old and fresh but all seemingly self inflicted. It isn’t what most would jump to the conclusion of however. Lycoris’s necromancy requires blood, requiring her to draw blood from herself. Originally Lycoris tried a couple different methods of getting blood. Needles kept breaking off in her arm, sterile IVs were difficult to find much less keep clean, and extracting and storing blood beforehand proved surprisingly difficult with limited resources.

Other solutions proved too time consuming forcing Lycoris to turn to simply cutting her arms to draw blood for spells in heated situations and battle.

While effective it’s left her arms horribly scarred and given her a rather unpleasant appearance as a result. Lycoris would enjoy covering her arms to avoid being mistaken for a lunatic or an emo edgelord, but doesn’t want to potentially die because she had to waste time rolling up her sleeves to cast a spell.

◇Personality Elements◇

• Selfish
• Neurotic
• Power hungry
• Callous
• Eccentric
• Inquisitive
• Well Read
• Intelligent

◇Biography◇

Lycoris was born in Australia, the only daughter of an eccentric historian. Growing up she spent most of her time either watched by friends of her father or alone and surrounded by books. From an early age she learned to read and turned to engrossing herself in books to find some kind of comfort. Lacking books for a girl her age Lycoris instead read the books and texts her father kept around the house for research purposes.

The books she delved into were all strangely worded, threatening tombs on magic and necromancy. Pages filled with images of dark deeds and esoteric principles of the spirits and demons that supposedly could bend the world to the practitioner's wishes.

At 7 years old Lycoris was reading translations of the 15th century Cambridge Book of Magic and The Heptameron, while her fellow 2nd graders struggled to read Charlotte’s Web. Her teachers were initially concerned by Lycoris's choice in reading material, but once they realized the girl simply wanted to follow in her father's footsteps they calmed down.

While overly verbose and intelligent for her age, Lycoris was still a little girl and craved her father’s attention and warmth.

Mr. Sparks was a historian, and an expert in the arcane practises of the past. Before Lycoris was born he held a number of theories suggesting that, at one point in time, magic rituals and spells actually worked.

This of course turned him into a laughing stock and brought him to the point of financial ruin. Bunched in with people who tried healing basketball sized tumors with crystals and con men who swore they could speak to dead relatives, it became a struggle to find work. Shortly after marrying the women of his dreams she died giving birth to a baby girl.

Her father did her best to support Lycoris. Going to great lengths to get work, even denouncing his previous theories and sacrificing what little reputation he had left in order to pay the bills.

Lycoris couldn’t help but feel somehow responsible for her father’s misery and misfortune. Wishing quietly that he would somehow be proven right.

It wasn’t until the discovery of Earth by the Equestrian’s that she got her wish.

Realizing magic was an actual powerful practice that could be accomplished with the right means, countless governments and individuals sought Lycoris’s father for his expertise and knowledge. In a short period of time he became incredibly wealthy and was able to spend more time with his daughter.

Though happy to finally have her father’s attention, Lycoris couldn’t escape the feeling her father blamed her for what happened. The man tried to explain he held no ill will towards her and that despite his success, was still somewhat melancholy about the past. He assured her that he would eventually move past the loss of his wife and the years he spent humiliated for his theories.

Lycoris did not believe him however and did not see why it was important to move past anything. Magic had been proven to exist and through magic any problem could be solved.

Breaking into her father’s office she stole an Equestrian tomb that had been lent to him for research purposes by a foreign government. Cross referencing the tomb with a book on necromancy Lycoris began secret preparations for a ritual.

With the influx of money Lycoris’s father had bought a new home and was able to pay to have his wife’s grave moved to their new property. The night it was moved Lycoris snuck out of her room and into the backyard where she dug up and cracked open her mother’s casket.

Guided by the moonlight and the foul oils of a long since rotted corpse, Lycoris drew a circle in chalk dust around the open casket. Clouds began to roll overhead and thunder rang out like screams as she stood over the grave and cut a wound into her arm with a kitchen knife. Her blood trickled down into the grave and Lycoris began to chant the words of an incantation.

Everything seemed to be going just as planned...when the ground shook and the sky lit up for a brief moment. The Rending happened in the middle of her ritual and terrible destruction began to rain down across the world.

Lycoris struggled to keep her incantations clear as the ground shook and terrible noises and flashes rang out in the distance. As cities disappeared and countless people died across the globe something began to go horribly wrong with her ritual.

Hearing the noise Lycoris’s father ran outside and rushed to her side, just as the festering corpse of his wife rose to its near skeletal feet. Animated by a foul force Lycoris’ mother reached out to grab her daughter’s wrist, only meet the hand of her still living husband.

Pulling him into the grave with inhuman strength Lycoris was forced to watch as her ‘resurrected’ mother tore her father apart. Paralyzed by fear and shock all Lycoris could do was stand there, still bleeding from the arm as her mother finished and stepped out of the grave towards her.

Lycoris’s life would have been taken then and there had a blistering light not streaked down from the sky.

A meteorite. One of many magically conjured to wreak destruction on the land, struck her house and obliterated it. Superheated fragments of rock flew out in all directions upon impact, ripping Lycoris’s animated mother apart and immolating her fragile body in a matter of moments.

Lycoris was thrown back by the impact, a small fragment of meteorite grazing her head and leaving a burn painful enough to rob her of consciousness.

She woke up hours later with the sun beating down on the smouldering crater that used to be her home. The dead remains of her mother and father still left strewn about the ground near the grave she dug up. With nowhere to go Lycoris simply turned away from the hellish scene and began to walk.

The traumatized little girl went looking for help only to find everyone in a panic, looking out for no one but themselves. Operating in a kind of dazed autopilot Lycoris scavenged for supplies as she continued to walk. The little girl walked until night fell and she collapsed upon a hillside outside her home town. It was there in the dark that she broke down in screaming tears as the realization of what happened finally registered.

Lycoris blamed herself. The magic had been fine, it should have worked. But it didn’t. And it didn’t because of her. Had she been more skilled in magic her father wouldn’t have died. Her mother would have been returned to life. Perhaps their house could have been saved from the destruction.

Haunted by countless possibilities Lycoris lay curled up under the moonlight, swearing between her sobs that she would do everything it took to become an unquestionable master of magic. She would not stop until every element and trivial force of magic bent their knee to her command.

Lycoris woke up the next morning exhausted and hungry. Where other children searched for food, shelter, and safety Lycoris searched for books. She broke into libraries and colleges looking for texts, tablets, scrolls, and artifacts. Only ever seeking out her needs when the demand became too great to ignore.

Even as the adults began to die and warp into hideous creatures Lycoris continued to travel and research what she could while struggling to survive. When the Equestrian’s arrived and began to round up children, Lycoris put what she learned to use and avoided their detection.

Alone Lycoris traveled wandering the outback, crossed the sea, and began a decade long journey across Asia and into Europe. Years went by and she learned more and more. Her body grew, but her heart remained as cracked and small as it was that night by her mother’s grave.

Despite learning necromancy and surviving years on her own in a world polluted with hellish creatures and magical weapons gone rampant, Lycoris still felt weak and unwise. She wondered if she would ever gain mastery over magic when, while passing by an Equestrian settlement, she heard a rumor about a fabulous power rumored to be in a place called ‘Bellbrooke’.

Intrigued Lycoris set out for the former British Isles and eventually arrived at the settlement...

◇Skills and Talents◇

Multilingual: Lycoris has learned to speak, or at least read and write in a number of different languages. Several of which are archaic and connected to magical scripts and texts on Earth. It isn’t a perfectly grasp of the languages, her pronunciation and translation are off at certain points.

Speed Reader: Books are Lycoris’s meat and potatoes. She loves to read books and can go through them pretty quickly. However her speed reading only applies to scholarly and academic texts. When it comes to story books or works of fiction she can actually be very slow in getting through them. Mostly because Lycoris has to take her time to really grasp the weight of narrative elements and the plights of the characters.

Survivalist: Spending a decade trekking across the ruined, monstrosity polluted world has given Lycoris a tremendous amount of first hand experience in surviving harsh situations. She knows how to scavenge for food, hunt, cure hides, preserve foods, treat harsh injuries on her own, make shelter, and much more.

Rended Expert: Expert is probably too strong a term, but Lycoris considers herself one on the subject of the Rended. The adult humans who didn’t outright die from the magical energies released from the countless weapons during The Rending, slowly lost their humanity and turned into twisted creatures. These beings became known as the Rended and proved a threat to the survivors and the Equestrians who came to help them.

Years of witnessing, fleeing from, and fighting such creatures has allowed Lycoris to accrue a large degree of knowledge on the Rended, their behaviors, and workings.

Intermediate Magic User: Lycoris has worked hard while surviving to learn as much as she can about magic. Though she’s made impressive progress she is still just an intermediate user with a lot to learn. She has some interesting, if not outright dangerous theories for a magic user however...

◇Relics, Spells, and Techniques◇

The arcane practice of understanding and manipulating the forces that separate life from death. Through Necromancy spirits may be understood, powerful forces may be harnessed, and the dead themselves can be turned into tools or outright weapons.

Lycoris is a practitioner of Necromancy but does so in a style she developed on her own with some experience. Typically traditional necromancy is very stationary and time consuming, but by using blood as not only a sacrificial medium but a focus Lycoris can dramatically simplify spells.

By spilling her blood (or the blood of another) and using it in her castings she hastens otherwise time consuming practices. Allowing her to use her Necromancy more offensively and on the fly. While powerful, Lycoris's approach has it's weaknesses. Like most magic associated with the 'dark' her spells are left vulnerable to magic connected to the divine or the light. Her use of blood in her spells also takes a toll on her health as Lycoris must draw her own blood, often through cutting into herself, which risks infection, greater blood loss then intended, and a number of other horrid things.

The spells and rituals Lycoris currently know are:

◇Gear◇

Wild Clothes: Having spent the majority of her life traveling Lycoris has burned through quite a lot of clothes over the years. Wear and tear, not to mention growing out of clothes, has left her rather accustomed to finding or making new things to wear. During her journey to Bellbrooke she did scavenging and found articles of clothing from before The Rending to make an outfit.

Lycoris’s current attire is made of a purple hole ridden undershirt, shorts that once used to be jeans, panty hose, tattered steel toed military boots, and a dirty white overcoat with the sleeves cut or fallen off completely.

They provide the minimal warmth needed for the season and the region while being lightweight and comfortable. Lycoris’s wild clothes possess no protective properties from physical or magical attacks, and aren’t even that sturdy.

Leather Backpack:A sturdy leather backpack that has served Lycoris well over the years. It can hold quite a lot and its leather, although old and worn, is still surprisingly strong. The straps that go over her shoulders also have a knife sheath for her ritual blade and a short chain to attach books to so she doesn't drop and potentially ruin them.

Ritual Knife: Originally an everyday kitchen knife, the steel blade eventually broke after a few years of heavy use. Lycoris managed to replace the blade with a smaller, but sturdier knapped obsidian blade that she fixed and lashed to the handle of the kitchen knife. It works almost like a scalpel, excellent for use as a weapon and for rituals.

Sterilized Bandages: Crude, but sanitized bandages made from old cotton cloth sterilized in an even older oven. Lycoris learned to make them when she was young and currently has a roll on hand for stopping any excessive bleeding she may experience.

Personal Tomb: A large leather bound pook with hundreds of parchment pages. It’s filled with countless entries dating all the way back from the start of her journey. The book has a number of details, notes, theories, spell instructions, and information on countless magical schools that Lycoris has recorded over her travels. Some of the information is very dark and holds great potential for abuse in the wrong hands.

Bag of Salt: Inside a crude hide sack with a leather drawstring Lycoris keeps a healthy supply of salt on her person at all times. Just in case...

Bag of Rat Bones: Lycoris goes to great lengths to hide a bag full of rat bones in the event that she is ever captured. With the bones she can raise a small, skeletal rat and send it out of any cell she might be thrown in to free her.

Prince Blueblood is a young, golden maned Unicorn with a striking pure white coat and piercing sapphire blue eyes. He stands well groomed with no signs of scars, blemishes, or even chips on his hooves. His posture is straight and his mannerisms refined, giving him the smell or stinkof high class nobility. The Prince is usually dressed down in a virgin white suit with a blue tie and grey lapels. However due to the near identical color of his own coat it usually looks like he's simply wearing the collar of a suit with a tie around his neck, making him appear as foolish as it does refined.

• Selfish
• Callous
• Manipulative
• Uncaring
• Schemeing
• Worried

Prince Babaron Blueblood was born the far, far, far, farremoved relative of the rulers of Equestria, Princess Celestia and Princess Luna. Despite the almost laughable disconnect between his family and the Alicorns that governed the lands, the connection left many feeling they were entitled to respect and a certain degree of involvement in the land's affairs. It didn't take long for that entitlement to become reciprocated in the family and Blueblood was no different.

From an early age he lived a life of high privilege and grew up being told he was important and deserved much given his bloodline. Blueblood was the youngest of four children and the most bullheaded on the matter of his noble entitlement. As a child he was as greedy, selfish, and emotionally toxic as even the rich brats in stories about the value of sharing.

As he grew older and matured into an able bodied unicorn, Blueblood's attitude became less childish and more refined while still being nearly unbearable to virtually everyone who wasn't paid to suffer him. While he became popular amongst the other nobles for his sporting good looks and 'prince charming' like outer shell, his siblings all held greater responsibility and power then him.

The situation deeply confused him yet no explanation anyone was willing to give him really sank in. It wasn't until after the Grand Galloping Gala and being told off by a particularly well dressed mare that he came to realize his position was a gilded one.

He held no real power, or authority, or even respect outside of what his reputation and good looks earned him at first glance. Blueblood realized that those would not last forever. One day he would wither and grow old, and no one would want anything to do with him. The thought horrified him and for the first time in his life he began to lose sleep.

If he wanted to be happy he needed power.

That was what Blueblood felt and quickly became his sole focus.

He still attended parties and lived lavishly, but as he did he worked to gain connections. Dirt on important people. Working himself into greater and greater positions of power over time. Eventually the discovery of a new world and a new race began to dominate everyone's thoughts. Blueblood was first disinterested, but when an all out war to take back the strange world from disaster sprung up the Prince was the first of his siblings to begin supporting the efforts on Earth.

Blueblood feigned interest in helping the humans on Earth, gaining greater appeal and a more potent reputation as a result.

Years passed and a smarter, more competent Prince found himself on the verge of becoming a proper Duke. Everything seemed to be going his way when one of his siblings was chosen over him. Confusion turned to outrage as he discovered his siblings had begun to sabotage them.

They had 'concerns' about his behavior and how he intended to use his position. It was nothing but simple betrayal in Blueblood's eyes and he swore to make them pay. None of his siblings took the threat seriously though. One even went so far as to offer him a position at a reform school, either believing the Prince actually cared or simply doing it to mock him.

In an act that surprised nearly everyone...Blueblood accepted it.

Packing his many, many bags Blueblood traveled to Earth where he was given the 'accredited' position of headmaster of the Bellbrooke Reform School. He accepted the position, not because he cared, but to get his foot into a world where his family had no sway. He did his best to worm his way into the local politics of the settlement and gain power.

But it was slow, tiring task. Blueblood quickly grew to hate the human children he was forced to contend with. In front of the public and and important officials he was all smiles. But when alone with the humans the Prince was anything but kind, the total opposite of the teachers and aides who legitimately cared for them.

Craving some kind of escape from the hole he was seemingly trapped in Prince Blueblood began to quietly embezzle funds from the school's budget. Funding expedition after expedition into the surrounding wilderness in search of greater wealth and magical power.

For a year now he has searched for something, anything to help him. Rumors of some fabulous power have pushed the Headmaster of the Reform school to take even more underhanded measures to ensure he achieved real power...



Blackmail: Upon awakening to his need for power Blueblood discovered the importance of knowing the things no one wanted others to know. He became skilled at collecting information or outright setting up situations where he would have incriminating or reputation destroying evidence he could use to lord over others. During his time in Bellbrooke he's collected dirt on the mayor and other individuals of mild importance.

Appraisal: Blueblood always demanded the finest things out of his life. However he began to take efforts to really understand the worth of things. To gather wealth and riches he had to be able to see the value in things. Studying up as a grueling experience for him but he actually found he had a knack for identifying objects, valuable metals, and to a limited degree magical artifacts.

Charisma and Lying: Blueblood's charming looks and princely nature gives him a visual edge over most. Upon realizing the importance of using others Blueblood learned to actually act nice and appease the egos of others, even though he wanted to have his own desires appeased. He's become good at lying, or so he thinks, and can hide his true intent to a degree.

Sport Shooting: Hearing the elation and sense of power many nobles got from hunting on Earth, Blueblood put down good money for double barrel 4-bore rifle and instruction on how to use it. Though he found hunting too dirty and tiring, something about owning a firing a gun appealed to him. He has grown accustomed to using and firing rifles, with some mild skill in striking distant targets.





Blueblood never put much effort into learning magic when he was younger beyond the bare minimum of what was expected of him. He felt he didn't need to have magic at his disposal when his station entitled him to so much. Yet as he matured and slowly realized his powerlessness, he began to put more effort into learning spells in the hopes of using them to gain some kind of leverage. He's since become frustrating at the effort required and has been looking for short cuts.

Basic Telekinesis: The spell most unicorns learn at some time or another. Allows for the lifting and wielding of various small to medium sized objects without much exertion.

Ignite: Blueblood has learned hot to light small fires with his horn. It takes a great deal of concentration but he can spark torches, or even the clothes of nearby teacher, creating potentially dangerous fires from small flames

Chill: Largely learned out of a frustration from a lack of properly chilled wine, Blueblood took the chill spell to heart. Concentrating Blueblood can significantly drop the temperature of an object or spot. He can freeze water to create ice or injure someone, potentially giving them frostbite on the spot he focuses his magic.



SUNLIGHT PIN: One of the only things of value gotten from his funded expeditions into the wilderness surrounding Bellbrooke. A golden needle, slightly smaller then a knitting needle. Fragile and covered in intricate engravings the needle provides protection from the rays of the sun as well as sun and light based magic.

As long as the user has the needle in their possession they are immune to such spells, unless they contact base or rely on something that physically touches the user of the relic.

Though valuable and seemingly useless, Blueblood has kept the needle instead of selling it.



White Suit: An expensive custom tailored white suit with grey lapels and a royal blue tie. Prince Blueblood is almost never seen out of it, wearing it for formal occasions and while working as headmaster. Though he enjoys how it looks many often get confused, assuming he is simply wearing a lapel and a tie due to how the rest of the suit matches his own white coat.

4-Bore Double Barrel Rifle: A large caliber, break action rifle made by humans before the Rending. Blueblood had the weapon recovered and restored to a degree, keeping it and a least 20 brass shells around whenever he needs or feels the urge to shoot something.

Blackmail Files: A collection of photographs, notes, and other evidence that Blueblood can use to blackmail various individuals within Bellbrooke. From the mayor of the settlement to a certain star-flyer of the Wonderbolt Special Forces stationed in town...

---

A cold, bitter wind blew through the cobblestone streets of Bellbrooke. Gentle flakes of white fluff drifted downwards, followed by the last few dead leaves off the trees as they snapped and descended with their snowy friends to the ground. Though it was only midday the lamps that lined the streets were lit as thick overcast clouds, grey like dirty wet cotton, hung overhead dimming the sunlight enough that it seemed like it was nearing dusk.

Warm yellow glows radiated from the windows of thatched room homes and brick walled shops that lined the streets. Lively smoke rose from countless chimneys bringing the smell of freshly baked bread, newly forged steel, and sweet alchemical brews to the largely unshoveled streets. Cheers and the occasional bout of more then slightly drunken singing could be heard through the thick wooden doors and walls of the pubs in town.

Atop the walls that surrounded Bellbrooke the guards would find the warmth of the settlement at their backs as they stared out into a bleak, frigid landscape. The lively greens of the trees and underbrush outside the walls had all but disappeared with the approach of winter. Leave stripped yews looked like rotting, brown skeletons as their trunks stood out against the white landscape. The only other colors came from the yellowed grasses and stubborn weeds that remained unburied by the snow.

The winter air that rolled over the parapets of the wall did more then just carry cold to the guards, it also carried sound. The snapping of twigs, the crunch of snow and dried leaves, even the distant howls of creatures seemed so much closer. Something about the air of the season seemed to carry sound much better then it had in previous months.

For some guards it made them more alert while others were lulled into a distracted state, having tuned out the noises all together and become unaware of their surroundings.

The approaching holidays made it difficult for the guards to focus on their jobs. Many were left glancing back, wishing they could leave early for a pint or rush to the bakery to take advantage of a sale on bread or cake. Only the automated sentries and the crude, thick limbed robots remained resolute in their duties and unhindered by the cheerful atmosphere of the town.

Even the castle, which loomed over the town with thick stone walls and shadow laden spiraling towers, seemed to have a slight festive glow to it as yellow firelight could be seen in some of the keeps and windows visible from the town. Though home to the Refrom School the castle always had a slightly dower, unhappy air to it. Many in town found it ironic that one of the coldest, more unpleasant months was when the castle decided to brighten up.

Yet for all the cheer of the town and change of the castle, there remained a room within its walls unwarmed by the happiness of the town. The sterile glow of a florescent light lit the office of the Headmaster of the Bellbrooke Reform School...

---

"How long have I been here?" Prince Blueblood asked himself as he paced the thick carpeted floor of this otherwise cold office.

"I’ve forgotten and that worries me so. When a gentle pony such as myself wakes up and can barely recall the days, the weeks before...it means they so are uneventful they are not worth remembering! I’m wasting my life here!”

The Headmaster bit his lip, pressing a hoof to his forehead as he glanced around his office. Despite being spacious and well furnished it managed to feel suffocating to Blueblood. A varnished oaken desk, several bookshelves lined with books and scrolls he never bothered to read, a globe of the world he had no interest in seeing, a single chair for sitting naughty children in front of his desk, an unlit (and uncleaned) fireplace, and a fat firmly locked cabinet located at the back of the room.

Blueblood looked at the cabinet, glancing to the door to his office and outside the glass paned window overlooking the castle courtyard and the town below. Trotting over his horn glowed, drawing a fat silver key from his suit pocket and sliding it into the brick sized lock. A twist and the thump of the lock hitting the floor sounded out as Blueblood opened the doors to the cabinet.

Inside was a scattering old, dirty items. Unreadable scrolls, broken staffs, dark bits of threatening stone, and even a single bleached human skull that seemed to stare back at the lowly prince with an empty mocking gaze.

Amidst the junk and colorless trash there was one object that shined with a notable worth. A gold needle left resting carefully in a small rectangular box filled with rolled up paper and silk.

The needle was long, golden and elegant. It was too long to be used for sewing yet too small to be used as a weapon. Inscribed meticulously around the circumference of the needle. Blueblood did not fancy himself a scholar, but he was far from daft. He’d found the books needed and translated the text in his spare time.

It was flowery and vague but the needle gave “Protection from the sun’s blistering gaze”.

“A glorified magical sunscreen ward!” Blueblood snarled, nearly swatting the needle from the cabinet and into the waste-bin.

"Blast those stupid, swamp smelling fools! I pay them as much as I have and all they bring back is trash and a needle. How much money have I embezzled from the school funds just to get broken bits of rock and waste paper?"

The Prince's voice raised, but he knew he would go unheard in his own office. It did little to calm him though as he fumed to himself.

“I came here to find something to put my life back on track. To give me the power I needed to earn the respect and stature I need to be important! This place...it’s special. It’s littered with artifacts, items, stones and jewels that practically bleed magical. While this one may be mundane there are others out there that are far from it. All I need to do is pay someone to find the right one and-”

*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*

The white unicorn nearly leaped from his body as he spun towards the door, eyes wide and teeth clenched.

"Headmaster Blueblood? The inspector from Equestria has arrived and they're asking for you to give them a tour of the school." A female voice said from the other side of the door.

Blueblood sighed, his eyes rolling back as relief washed over him. The relief was short lived and quickly replaced with a burning irritation.

"Thank you Mrs. File, you can tell the inspector I'll be with him in a moment!"

Hearing the hoofsteps of his secretary walking away Blueblood locked the cabinet, taking one lasting look at the gold needle before sealing his ill gotten gains away. He stepped out of his office where three chairs sat directly outside his door, unoccupied by human children in need of discipline.

Walking down the hall he arrived at his secretary's desk and saw a blue coated, brown maned Earth Pony waiting for him. They were dressed warmly with a jacket, scarf, and fedora. Their smile was as warm as their clothes as they nodded to Blueblood at his approach.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Headmaster Blueblood, is everything well?" The inspector asked and Blueblood forced a smile.

"If it was any better I'd be genuinely worried. I must say I'm quite surprised, I wasn't expecting you until after the holidays..." The Prince's smile soon gained teeth as the inspector laughed.

"Yes, I'm sorry about that. The reason for my early arrival will become clear soon. Shall we begin?" The inspector stepped to the side, waiting for Blueblood to take the lead and show him around. It took deep personal restraint not to simply swat the inspector as he began walking down the hall.

Silence hung in the air as Blueblood led the inspector through the corridors and halls of the castle. He could hear the scribbling of a pencil on paper as the inspector took note after note, rolling the pencil in their mouth between writing.

"Here is where the children sleep." Blueblood said, pushing open one of the doors lining the hall to reveal a large open room filled with rows and rows of bunk beds. It was a barracks style room with colorful walls, clean sheets, and a pair of windows at the back of the room that let natural light in.

"I see. So there's no individual rooms for the children?" The inspector asked and Blueblood shook his head.

"The layout of the castle simply doesn't permit it, Inspector. Besides by sharing a sleeping space the children become closer. They sleep together, eat together, learn together, and play together." Blueblood explained. Though as sensible as the answer he gave was, he was simply parroting what the drivel the teachers in the school had stated. Seeing the room all he could feel was a sense of relief that the loud, human brats were kept in one place.

"Hmmm, very intriguing idea. I assume the sleeping areas are separated by gender and age of course?" The Inspector glanced into the room and Blueblood could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

"Of course, it'd be ridiculous if it wasn't! Come now, I'll show you the dining hall." Slamming the open door Blueblood took the inspector by the back and began leading him away from the sleeping room.

In truth Blueblood hadn't bothered organizing where the children slept. They all attended different classes, but he simply didn't have the patience to separate everyone into specific rooms. Simply letting the children sleep where they chose (or dropped) was convenient and the presence of the teenage humans near the younger ones seemed to reduce the crying from their petulant little nightmares.

Walking farther down the stone laden halls Blueblood brought the inspector to a large room. The stone floors had been replaced with sterile white tiles and long wooden tables with benches fixed to them dotted the room in orderly lines. At the back was a kitchen with a cafeteria line.

"Here is where the children eat. We recently served breakfast so lunch won't be ready for another two hours..." Blueblood explained, stepping back to lead the inspector out but the Earth Pony simply walked farther into the room.

"It seems clean enough, but what kind of food is served here? Humans have different dietary requirements from us, they're nearly carnivorous given what they can eat. Meat may have been somewhat taboo for us, but they used to eat mountains of it."

"Well we serve eggs, local fish, and whatever we can get affordably from the local shops. There are a few Griffon and Minotaur run butcher shops here in Bellbrooke. So meat isn't entirely unavailable..."

"I've heard rumors of Rended meat being bought and served to the human children in some reform schools. Have you ever done that here?"

"W-what? No, no, don't be ridiculous. It's true the meat does occasionally show up for sale, rather cheaply, but we've never done that." Blueblood shook his head firmly and the inspector nodded, taking a long line of notes as the Prince glanced back to the freezers.

"That's good to hear. The Rended...well they used to be human. Feeding their meat to other humans could have some dangerous side effects."

"Yes, we wouldn't want anything happening to the children..."Blueblood said, his tone dipping slightly as the inspector looked away. Luring the inspector back out into the hall the Headmaster of Bellbrooke took him to the lively part of the school. They began to pass classroom after classroom.

"These are the classrooms?" The inspector asked and it was all Blueblood could do not to roll his eyes as a smile flashed across the Earthpony's face.

Bright colorful rooms filled with desks, books, toys, posters, and smiling teachers and aides served as the classrooms for the school. Human children of varying ages from gradeschoolers to teenagers sat attentively at desks, smiling, talking, and eagerly raising their hands to ask or answer questions.

"Yes, these are some of the classrooms where we teach the human children the important aspects of life. And all that other drivel" Blueblood muttered the last part as the inspector walked into one classroom with teenagers, his eyes lighting up as he noticed some young ponies mixed in with the class.

"Are the children regularly taught alongside ponies near their age?"

"Sometimes. Plenty of the staff here have children of their own that are taught here out of convenience. Occasionally classes from the local school house in town are brought up for shared lessons, but since Winter arrived we've been toning them down."

The Prince straightened his stance, giving a more convincing smile as he walked into the classroom. Some of the students looked his way, but averted their gaze the moment his eyes met theirs. Silently the prince gestured to some of the fixtures in the room for the inspector to look at, all while approaching the teacher in order to pawn the inspector off on her.

“As you can see, everyone is in class engrossed in their studies and-”

“Are you sure? Does anyone sit at that empty desk?” Blueblood stopped dead in his walk, eyes going wide. He slowly turned his head, seeing the inspector pointing at a desk at the far back of the room. Tucked away near the bookshelves at the back of the classroom was a battered desk with all manner of graffiti carved into it's wooden top. Pegasi being struck by lighting, strange and outright crude words, and one name that had seemingly been carved deeply into the top of the table.



Blueblood flashed a smile and turned his head, glaring over his shoulder at the teacher whose own smile immediately became forced.

“O-oh I nearly forgot about her. She’s sick and spending some time in our infirmary for the sake of the other children. After all they love to share everything, including their germs! Ha ha ha…”

Blueblood faked a laugh and the Inspector gave a more legitimate one, failing to see the tension in the teacher's eyes as Blueblood approached her desk. With the inspector strolling to the other side of the room to look at the books laid out from the children Blueblood leaned in, speaking through gritted teeth to the teacher.

"Where. Is. Falling?" Blueblood demanded, in as hushed yet harsh tone as he could manage without being heard by the others.

“I don’t know. One of the other children said she wasn’t feeling well so she went to the nurse’s officer. She was there for about an hour and that was the last time anyone saw her. She might be around somewhere sleeping or-”

“She could have snuck off somewhere and gotten off the school grounds entirely.” Blueblood rubbed a hoof into the side of his head, eyes narrowing into an even more threatening glare at the teacher.

“Y-yes that might be what happened. But I’m sure she wouldn’t do something like that…”

“And I’m sure she’d do exactly that.”

“I’m sorry…”

"Oh there's no need to apologize to me. Apologize to your own children. The fact this girl keeps giving you and the rest of the school staff the run around is nothing short of disgraceful."

Blueblood pulled his hoof away, his tone growing venomous as he spoke.

"Were it any other day I wouldn't have cared. Just wait till she comes back, give her the usual scolding, and let her spend the night in the dungeonto think things over. But the inspector is here. If he catches wind of this my job is on the line, and if that happens I'll ensure you'll never teach anywhere on Earth for the rest of your life."

The teacher grimaced, nodding her head in quiet fear as Blueblood turned and walked away.

“Oh Celestia help me, why did I have to get stuck with this girl?”

"I must say I'm thoroughly impressed so far Headmaster Blueblood. You've done a wonderful job running this school. I'd heard some disturbing rumors but they all appear to be false."

Blueblood simply nodded, growing more and more unable to bear the Inspector's obnoxious smile.

"Yes, yes. Very glad to hear that. Now why exactly have you come out here early?"

A flash of realization flashed through the Inspector's eyes and he swatted a hoof against his forehead.

"Oh that's right! If you met the standards needed for a Reform School I was to give you this bonus sum of bits."

Blueblood's face remained passive. He watched the Earth pony reach back into his saddlebags, half expecting him to pull out a pathetic little pouch. The noble's looked changed completely as the inspector pulled out a heavy bag, bulging and straining under the weight of the money inside.

"Oh!" Blueblood's horn glowed and he reflexively took the bag of money from the Earth Pony's hooves with a telekinesis sell. The Prince smiled, wide and legitimately at the fat bag of bits he had. "I assure you I will choose to use these funds wisely for a task benefiting the school. Deciding what that is will be difficult given the sum-"

"Oh there's no need to worry about deciding what to do with the money, it's already been decided." The inspector exclaimed and Blueblood's face stiffened.

"...I'm sorry what?"

"Yes! Miss Meadows, the councilor here, told me how the children hadn't had a proper holiday celebration in a while. She was very persuasive." The inspector said, smiling and staring off blankly at the mention of the councilor. After a few moments of awkward silence he shook his head, blinking as his senses returned to him.

"I admit I don't really remember exactly what she said, but it was clear the school deserved some additional funds. There is enough enough bits there to buy a number of gifts for every student in the school and ensure they have a bountiful feast and plenty of goodies when Hearth's Warming Eve arrives!'

Intentionally raising his voice the Inspector threw up his hooves and looked to the human children sitting at the nearby desks. Hearing the announcement clearly their eyes lit up like long forgotten Christmas trees and a number of cheers, squees, and excited shaking rang out.

Even the recently threatened teacher smiled more genuinely at the announcement seeing the children explode into smiles and joyful banter.

Blueblood simply stood there, teeth clenched and face frozen in smile that grew readily less friendly the longer he stood in the room.

"How...nobleof her." He said and turned to the door. "I'll deposit these funds somewhere safe, Mr. Inspector. Please refer to the teacher for any more information you need regarding the school. I'm sure she'll be more then helpful"

Shooting what only a deranged man would call a smile at the teacher Blueblood left the room and walked back to his office. As soon as the door was closed he dropped the bag of bits onto the floor and took a deep breath.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Blueblood shouted, as long and as hard as he could until his lungs were empty. As soon as he felt the burn in his throat he turned his gaze to the useless globe beside his desk. His horn became engulfed in a glow and the globe was lifted off the ground, spinning a top briefly before flying across the room.

It struck the adjacent wall with enough force to break apart, throwing bits of plastic and metal across the room.

Seeing the destruction brought a weak smile to the Prince's face as he stood, heaving and huffing amidst his office.

No sooner had he recovered then the fire of anger returned to his belly. Blueblood gritted his teeth, picking up the hefty bag of bits and dragging it across the floor to the window of his office.

There, embedded in in the stone, was a rotary phone. Recently made and wired down to the snow laden settlement below. Picking the receiver off the line and pressing it to his ear the prince began to make a call, every turn of the dial harder then the last until a tone panged in his ear.

"Operator, how can I help you?" A nazzly female voice asked.

"Connect me to the mayor, tell him it is urgent." Blueblood said fiercely, hearing the operator jump on the other end.

"O-one moment please..."

The prince waited, smiling as he looked down at the money he was supposed to waste on the brats packed into the castle. As soon as the mayor picked up, the Prince spoke, refusing to let the man on the other end speak.

"Hello my dear and graceful mayor! How are you? Good I'm sure. I am calling to hire another expeditionary band. Yes I remember you saying it would cost more after the last party was completely butchered, but I figured you'd be more generous with this particular request of mine."

Blueblood's tone was cheerful, forcefully so as his voice shook.

"Not because Hearths Warming Eve is just around the corner, but because I still have those photographs. Oh yes. I'm sure the local paper would just love these, they capture you so well. Your voters will just perk up seeing this new and wonderful side to you I'm sure."

Blueblood's lips curled and he leaned into the speaker, voice sick with frustration and anger.

"You will find and send a handful of skilled individuals up to my office at the castle or I will have you thrown out of office like a filly into the streets."

He paused letting his words sink in.

"I don't care if they're from the adventure's guild or some decent guards, as long as they are COMPETENT for a rare, blissful change. Am I understood? Good. Don't keep met waiting."

Hanging up the receiver Blueblood breathed, feeling his heart rate slow as satisfaction swept over him. Returning to his desk, bits in hoof, he sat down and leaned back.

"This time is going to be different. Oh I can just feelit. Nothing is going to ruin my mood now. Not even that troublesome girl..."

Despite what the Prince told himself a frown spread across his face as he glanced back to the window, out into the snow...

---

From the outside of the Reform School the walls and gates of the castle seemed totally unpenetrable. Though old no child or teen, inside or out, could hope to scale the walls or worm their way inside. Or so they would likely tell themselves. Most were too well behaved, others were simply too afraid to do so.

But one girl out of countless others tried and more often then not-

"Woohoo! HAHAHAHA!"

Succeeded.

Falling Down's brown hair burst from a snow pile beside the west wall of the castle. Her face held a victorious smile, even as frozen mud dirtied her face and hands as she climbed from the hole she had appeared from. Down in the darkness was an old stone drain that ran out of the castle and down the hill. It had been sealed off with iron bars and was normally filled with water.

But the arrival of winter had led to the draining and freezing of the water, and a steel file put an end to the bars that kept anyone from entering it.

"And Daring Doo's assistant burst from the ancient catacomb tunnel and into the icy air of the lost land. Ready to search for treasure and excitement!"Falling spoke to herself, mimicking the narration of the adventure books she leafed through when she was supposed to be reading Equestrian history.

Even as the snow stung her exposed fingertips from her gloves and reddened her cheeks, Falling couldn't stop smiling. It'd been too long since she left the school, escaped the boring classes to do something she actually wanted to do.

Wasting little time Falling began to run, leaving footprints in the snow as she ran to a lone naked tree not far from the walls of the castle. She got down on her hands and dove her hands into a well hidden hollow at the base, pulling out a backpack and a large length of metal piping.

Securing the backpack over her shoulders and shouldering the pipe, Falling turned her gaze to the forest down the hill from the castle.

"I'm not coming back without something cool this time. I don't care how long it takes..." Falling spoke with what she felt was resolve, glancing back at the castle walls and glaring before starting down the hill.

The Castle overlooking Bellbrooke was outside the settlement walls. It had its own walls and was near enough that assistance could easily be called. Thanks to the placement of the school a child couldn't run out into Bellbrooke and potentially hear something they shouldn't. If they approached the town the guard would likely see them and return them to the school.

However there was nothing stopping a child from simply trudging out into the unexplored woods and wilds not far from the castle. Fear was the only thing that stopped children from venturing far, but Falling was not mired fear. At least not the fear of spooky woods and monsters.

"I'll head to the lake. I remember seeing that old, tall building near the water. There has to be something there." Falling picked up the pace and was soon running in between the sleeping husks of trees, her sneakers growing wet with cold snow as she ran farther and farther away from the school...

_Germany.

---

---

Brown stormed down the paved road towards the town, defiance in her run even as she technically did what Jonas had intended her to do in his plan. Yet as the young Nomad blitzed past signs written in German, doing her best to leave the babysitting ‘clone’ in the dust, thoughts of how to dash that plan and surpass it shot through her brain the same way she shot through the landscape.

Could she find a tower and jump onto the dragon? Slingshot her way up to the altitude the monstrous metal beast flew? Have someone throw or launch her up there? Every thought Brown considered as she ran related to the mechanized metal drake that soared in the skies above. It’s intimidating force stood as a challenge and Jonas’s insistence she not fight it simply deepened her thirst to utterly crush it in combat.

Massive, mighty foes were meant to be fought and beaten. Just the memory of what she managed to accomplish at the stadium in Rio got her heart racing. It wasn’t a ‘proper’ victory in her mind, the struggle and injury it cost her made it feel phyric, but it was the closest thing she had and she wanted More.

Then she actually saw them.

The robots.

Skidding to a halt at in the central street of the German town Brown watched as rusted, battered robots marched out of stores lining the street. They shouldered through storefront windows or simply walked clean through the walls, pulverizing wood and stone like it was nothing as they lugged merchandise over their shoulders and in their hands. Brown expect to see German money, gold, or at least robot foot like nuts and bolts in the grips of the numerous machines.

Yet as she got closer Brown could clearly see seemingly normal merchandise being hauled by the machines. Like the rudest, most unpleasant army of hired grocery shoppers the world had ever seen.

“Why the heck are these robots stealing all this stuff? Are they working with the dragon? I wonder if it’s like the dragons from the stories, where it hoards stuff!”

Brown nodded and smiled to herself, her own internal logic feeling sound as she watched the robots move and the townsfolk flee in terror. Unable to contain herself anymore Brown ran, moving out of the street and onto the nearby sidewalk where a pair of robots lugged bulk replacement light-bulbs out of a store.

The two machines either didn't notice her approach or didn't register her as a threat. This proved to be a mistake as Brown drew back her arm, gripped the round wooden surface of her yo-yo, and concentrated her meager ki energies into the toy as she ran shouted.

“Taikutsunakiba, FADED FANG!”

Looping her middle finger through the string Brown swung her arm forward and hurled the yo-yo to the nearest of the two robots. The wooden yo-yo unfurled from it's string as it flew, spinning through the air with the force of a bullet before crashing into the midsection of the steely skeleton. Ki-hardened wood crushed the metal plating inwards, snapping the spinal supporting of the robot and breaking it clean in two.

Brown's eyes lit up, an adrenaline sweetened smile coming to her face as she watched the first robot crash to the sidewalk in two pieces. With a tug of her arm the yo-yo surged back towards her, winding back onto it's string before landing comfortably in her palm

"Yeah! I was hoping for challenge, but I think I'm starting to like the idea of just destroying you all without any effort at all." Brown cheered, her smile widening as she ran towards the second still remaining robot with her hands clenched into fists.

As she ran forward the robot seemed largely unaware of her presence or the fate of it's comrade. It's head and body faced away from her, still clutching the light bulbs it had pilfered. Yet the moment Brown came within punching distant something changed.

The robot's body tensed up. It's head spun an inhuman 180 degrees. Dilated optics fixed onto Brown and in one blinding movement the robot swung out at the approaching Nomad.

Instead of turning around the robot's arm simply pivoted within it's joint, swinging backwards in such a way that a human arm would be dislocated or outright torn from it's socket.

Skeletal steel knuckles crashed into Brown's chest, depressing her stomach and forcing the air from her lungs. She gasped and was sent hurtling sideways across the street. Brown collided with the side of a car back first, collapsing the aluminum frame inwards and nearly tipping the vehicle over as she came to a violent stop.

Half embedded in the German car Brown wheezed for air, struggling to regain the wind that had been knocked out of her in a single strike by the seemingly low-grade robot.

As Brown gasped and gagged the previously occupied robots all began to drop what they were carrying and turned to her. Optics glowing with a subtle, yellow glow they began to slowly approach her from all sides. Mechanical arms raised and steely hands twisted into murderous fists...

---

Chloe is a young, rebellious women of average height with pixie cut styled hair dyed a painful shade of cyan. An elaborate tattoo runs down the length of her right arm. A black beanie typically adorns her head, matting her hair and leaving nothing but brightly colored ends sticking out. An open short sleeved green jacket hangs across her thin shoulders revealing the image adorned top beneath featuring something one would expect an edgy punk teenager to wear. A small necklace of bullets hangs from around her neck.

• *Snarky*
• *Selfish*
• *Rebellious*
• *Mistrusting*
• *Insecure*
• *Possessive*
• *Adventurous*
• *Risk Taking *

The last thing Chloe remembers is being shot.

She had accepted her death and as the pain gave way of numbness and darkness, Chloe was ready to simply disappear...

Then she woke up.

In an instant everything came back. Sharp, loud, and sudden she awoke with a gasp. Though her wound was gone pain seemed to radiate through her body. As if it was confused on whether she was actually alive or not. Barely staying conscious through the pain Chloe eventually managed to get to her feet and tried to figure out where she was.

After coming across an animated skeleton, a panicked scientist, and some kind of cyborg moose Chloe came to the conclusion that no one knew where in the fuck they actually were.

During the first initial days after the COLLAPSE occurred Chloe coped by simply focusing on her survival. Lying, stealing, and fighting all the while fighting off wondering if she was in some kind of nightmare ridden coma or if the fucked up word she found herself in was what the afterlife was supposed to be. When she came to something resembling civilization Chloe stuck around and tried to be apart of it, if only to feel a little safer sleeping at night.

Unable to get actual work Chloe was forced to consort with the criminal elements brewing to make ends meet. Her tough attitude and her casual enjoyment of the illegal actually proved useful landing her the ‘respectable’ career as a glorified drug dealer. For a while she did quite for herself, becoming familiar with a great number of illegal substances that she successfully pawned off on the addicts and desperate people who came to her.

Amidst the chaos and hellish confusion of the Collapse, people were desperate for some kind of relief or pleasure amidst the uncertainty. Drugs proved to be a popular outlet only fueled by the cheer myriads that could be found and made available.

However the ‘good’ times did not last for Chloe. Though she found something resembling a stable lifestyle she was still awash with guilt, anger, and a sense that she didn’t deserve to exist. Unable to face these feelings Chloe began to sample from her own supplies, abusing the very substances she was supposed to sell.

When her profits began to sink a confrontation with her supplier occured and Chloe ended up breaking ties with them.

Unable to continue selling Chloe was evicted from her place of living and forced to some someplace significantly cheaper. With nothing but a handful of drugs and a knife to her name Chloe now tries to live her life, closing her eyes to the problems in front of her...

Growing up in a modern, relatively normal world Chloe knows how to operate motor vehicles, ‘normal’ technology, and has something resembling an education. Her real strengths lie-
*Drugs last longer for her with slightly less ove

Her greatest strength, for better or for worse, is her new found familiarity with the narcotics and drugs of the patchwork world she finds herself in.


Butterfly Knife
Lighter
+Pack of Cigarettes
+Med-X x2 (Left 4 Dead Pills)
+Stimpacks x2
+Psycho x2
+Buffout x2
+Jet x2

[hider=Matsu Kasshoku]

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WEAKNESSES & LIMITS


[/indent]

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Matsu is more or less Brown's surrogate mother. As a result she enjoys doting on Brown and is extremely protective of her. [/hider]