Zeke walked heavy footed down the hallway, deliberately making his presence known as he approached the group. His deep, gravelly breaths seeped out of the shadow from within his black hood. Somehow, Zeke made this grand corridor look small as his gargantuan figure nearly took up all the space it offered. When he was finally within just a few steps of the group, he stopped. And then he just looked at them, his gaze slowly moving from one face to the other, his breaths still rolling out in a rhythm. Finlay was missing and the group was running late for the trial. Zeke was not happy.



"Yo, yo, yo!" Finlay called out as he jogged down the hallway, a fairly large man trying to keep pace behind him. "We're ready!"

Zeke slowly turned to Finlay as the latter approached, and said nothing. As Finlay's advance came to a halt, Zeke stepped forward, getting within inches of Finlay before he stopped and looked down upon the Hood. A gruff, audible huff came out of Zeke, expressing his aggravation and lack of patience. This was taking too long.

"Right, yeah, I got it. We're ready. Meet ya there, I promise." Zeke stood for a moment longer, causing Finlay to visible begin to worry, his mouth dropping open slightly and his muscles tensed up. You never knew what to expect with Zeke. You couldn't read him, you couldn't get a sense of personality. All you could do was hope that he was feeling particularly merciful on the day in which you offended him. Finally Zeke turned and headed back down the corridor from whence he came. Finlay let out an exaggerated sigh and slumped his body over, bracing himself on his knees. "Good night. That fookin guy."

Finlay stood up straight once more, regaining his composure. "No more dilly dallyin'. It's time to see what you all are made of." He pointed to the sizable man at his side, dressed in full armor with long hair and a stern disposition. "Robert will be joining us. Locksley, you're with Hae, Celestina and Rivington," he said, pointing out each person as he spoke their name.

"Now enough fookin around. We're late and if I 'ave to smell that big bastard's breath one more time today I'm gonna lose my shit. Follow me." Finlay started walking down the same trail that Zeke took, presumably toward the Trial location. He looked back and noticed that people weren't quite behind him, yet. "MOVE!"

@Phlegm

Robert Locksley

Robert regarded the other recruits with a subtle smile.

"Hello."

The sword and shield strapped to his back and the armor around his body made for quite the load to carry but Robert was not a weak man. He was promised adventure and challenges that would test his mettle. It was something he was looking forward to. He was not without his own experience in dealing with the grotesque monstrosities that plagues the lands. His naked body was a collage of scars that told the tales of his past fights and his face was no different. A scratch under his eye and a scar running diagonally through his lips were what people tended to notice first.

After Finlay beckoned them to follow, Robert began walking slowly to try and stick with the group.

"I'm not very good with names. Which ones were the three that I'm with?"

---

---

Kiri's gaze snapped over her shoulder at the new, high pitched voice behind her. It was the floating child -- how had Kiri not noticed she was here? Irritation grew in her stomach. She should've noticed.

Colin was still in the doorway, asking a stupid question, but then Kiri's attention was drawn by a new sound: footsteps lumbering down the corridor, drawing near. Kiri looked over Colin's shoulder to see the newcomers. There was Finlay, looking more flustered than before, and an absolute mountain of a man, adorned in gleaming armor and a littany of scars. Kiri's eyes widened slightly. He was a warrior.

But Kiri was a warrior, too. She belonged here, she did. She had as much right to be here as he did, she reminded herself. Her heart was loud and heavy in her throat. She heard her name called, along with the two others she'd been saddled with. She clenched her jaw and tightened her grip on her sword.

Pushing past Colin to exit the room, she marched forward.

"Us," came her terse answer to the armored man. Without a backwards glance she followed after Finlay to meet whatever challenge was awaiting them.

As Finlay walked the group down a series of corridors, they found themselves in one that came to a dead end. At the end of the corridor were three great red doors and a small assortment of people standing outside. Zeke stood still, a grim sentinel, looking onward at the doors as if anticipating them to do something. Another younger man clad in leather armor with a red cloak draped about him was leaning up against one of the walls with three people that looked like they had been through war. Their earth toned clothing was riddled with blood spatter, tears and one of them even looked like they had a close encounter with fire, his shirt singed and tattered. The group slowly moved in and expanded into a pool of people as they stood a safe distance from the three doors.



"Finlay," said the other red hood, a whisper of a mustache on his pail face with a small patch of hair on his chin that looked better suited to be located in his nether regions. He pushed himself up off the wall to regard his brother in arms.

"Trent." Finlay's response was devoid of emotion. Someone listening in would not mistake these two for having much love for one another.

"This is your crew?" Trent looked at the people Finlay came with, seemingly unimpressed.

"Aye, and that mangy lot must be what's left o' yers." Finlay looked to the four again. A blond woman with a very muscular physique who skin was a mix of black, blue and red as she clearly took a beating and was littered with open wounds. One of the men had long brown hair, a broken and bloody nose, and a cloth wardrobe that had taken a lot of damage. This was the man who seemed to have tasted licks of flame on his arm. The third man was suited up in light armor. No doubt the armor looked pristine when he walked into the trial. Now the metal was tarnished, dented and, in some places, pierced. The short cropped hair did nothing to hide his swollen right eye and bloody lips.

"I've still got two more groups. Only one casualty so far. I'm sure the rest will come though on top." Trent didn't look as confident as he tried to sound.

"No doubt," Finlay said, humoring him, before returning his attention to his own crew.

"Alright, you dobbers, listen up! While we wait for them to pull out the corpses of Trent's group o' idiots, let's go over some things. There are several challenges that you're all going to be faced with at the same time. You'll be split into groups of four. Your bunkmates are also your teammates. The first challenge is Fear. You must overcome fear in all instances. You'll be facing a number of beasts and malicious individuals in your career as a Hood. You're no good ta me if your cowering in the corner or making rash decisions. Fear. Get tha fook over it!

"The other challenge is teamwork. Most Hoods, Red or Yellow, work in groups. If you try to take on the monsters of the wold solo, the odds are going ta be stacked against you. Ever try exterminatin' a pack o' werewolves by your lonesome? Don't! It's a deathwish. Learn to work with your brothers n' sisters of the Hood.

"Third is Adaptability. You've got to adjust to your opponent, to the situation you're in, to your surroundings. Techniques that might fell one beast may be absolutely useless against another and if you can't adapt, yer gonna be paintin' the floor red with yer own blood.

"Behind these doors are 3 different, notoriously hard to kill baddies. You and your mates will be entering these rooms at the same time and we are not opening those doors until the creatures are felled. You might not make it, but don't give up. If you lose your right arm, pick up your fookin blade with you left and get back in there!"

Just then there came a loud, slow knock on the middle door. Zeke went to it and opened it up. A half naked man, covered in crimson from head to... shins, pulled himself out of the room. His feet were gone. In their places was exposed, splintered bone and torn flesh. As he advanced, he left a trail of red like a morbid snail as he dug into the group with his finger nails, determined to inch himself forward.

"Jonathan?" Trent asked the shell of a man on the ground. "Where are the others?"

Through labored weeps, Jonathan answered, "G-gone... oh god, they're all gone!" A smirk began to form on Finlay's lips as he pointed his thumb at the bloody thing.

"See that? That's fightin' spirit! His fookin' feet are off and he's still goin'!" Jonathan's body fell limp on the ground. The two Red Hoods and Zeke all stared at him for a moment. "Well, he was. And that's the type o' attitude I want from you lot!" Trent hesitantly pulled Jonathan's body out of the doorway while Zeke sealed the red door afterward. There was still one group battling it out in the third door.

"These creatures can be extremely difficult or extremely easy depending on how well you strategize with yer team. They all of a fatal weakness, but that weakness is not universal to all of them. You hit 'em where and how it hurts and they will fall. You muck about too much, hacking and slashing randomly as you please and you won't come out of this thing alive." Finlay turned back to the door. "How long has the last crew been in there, anyway?"

Trent looked to Zeke with a worried expression. That was an answer in and of itself. It had been too long. Zeke opened the red door and entered, shutting it behind himself.

"Oh... I hope that beast isn't still in there. He's about to get introduced to the-" But before Finlay could finish his sentence, the red door opened back up and out came Zeke with four limp and bloodied bodies carrying two under each arm. He hurled them all at Trent as if to say 'Here's your trash. Clean it up'. "Huh. Well, Trent, three outta twelve ain't so bad, eh?" Finlay couldn't hide his malicious grin before returning his attention to Team Dobbers.

"Right, well they're gonna reset tha challenge, so to speak. And by that, I mean they're gonna replace the slain opponents. Won't take long. Meantime, let me repeat the groups to ya...

Group One: Dragomir, Cohen, Chase and Fendrel.
Group Two: Album, Devout, O'Shay and Whitlock.
Group Three: Celestina, Hae, Locksley, and Rivington.

"Does anyone have any questions?" Just as someone's mouth moved, ready to ask, Finlay interrupted. "No? Good! I got faith in ya! Work together, conquer your fears, and adapt. I'll see ya on the other side. Now all that's left to do is to pick a door and...

Two weeks ago

The chilling wind whispered through the trees that swayed blissfully in the moonlight. The grass was lightly covered in snow and every breath Ryder took came out as a small vaporous cloud. He tried to breathe as little as possible as he remained perched high in one of the trees, his body eclipsed in shadow as his eyes remained glued to the ground below. He was waiting for his prey. The cold temperature didn't even faze him as he remained still, finding comfort in his stewing hatred.

It was only a year ago that she was taken from him. His fiance, Alice, was a good and generous woman. She was kind to a fault and it costed her everything. There was once a time when Ryder was a simple tradesman. That time had passed. And all of this, everything, came to a halt because of one man... one thing.

Ryder's eyes blinked rapidly, his attention sharpening, as his ears heard the sound of crunching snow below. In the distance, he could see the silhouette. It was massive...



As a man, Ryder learned, he went by Godwin Thomas. Now, however, he was known only as the Wendigo. Many, many moons ago, while Ryder was out on a hunt, a withered looking Godwin came knocking on the door of Ryder's cabin. Alice, being the sweetheart she was, quickly brought the man in to warm up by the fire. Godwin thanked her for the hospitality and mentioned that he was ravenous. She offered him a place at their dinner table to dine of whatever game Ryder brought back with him. Little did she know that Godwin preferred a different kind of meat.

Perched in the tree, Ryder stopped breathing altogether as the hulking creature came closer, it's haunting yellow eyes staring straight forward. Ryder wasn't entirely sure of the best way to kill this thing, but he imagined his sword would be a good place to start. He just needed it to get closer...

When Ryder had returned from the hunt, he walked back to his cabin and immediately noticed the door was open. "Alice?" His voice was laced with concern. His fears turned to reality as he made his way to the doorway and peered inside. There she was... in pieces. Her flesh was ripped, her musculature was torn. Eaten. Blood covered the floor and within it were footprints. Shoe prints. This was not the work of an animal, this horrific scene was orchestrated by a man. Ryder wasted no time in trying to track the man down, but he had no leads other than his target was a cannibalistic drifter. The trail went cold until he heard whispers of a man that was possessed with a demon who stalked the woods and hungered for flesh. Ryder managed to find him and nearly died in doing so. He was not equipped for the task, so he found an outfit who could teach him, train him. He became a red hood and, tonight, he would have his long awaited vengeance.

The Wendigo was directly under him now. It was time. Ryder swiftly pulled out his sword and leapt down, his blade positioned like a nail that drove down into the creature's head with a sickening CRACK. The beast roared and bucked, but Ryder's grip on the embedded blade held true. Eventually, the thing fell to the ground, completely off balance. Ryder, with rage in his eyes, planted a foot on its horned skull and withdrew his sword, crimson fluid springing out of the wound like a geyser, covering the man's face and torso in blood splatter. He raised the blade and began hacking away at the Wendigo's head, screaming at the top of his lungs as he did so. Small craters to the skull soon grew into one big cavernous opening, flesh and brain matter flying as the Red Hood's passion hit a climax. The Wendigo stopped moving long ago and eventually Ryder ran out of steam and collapsed in the red snow. All he could do now was stare at the corpse and weep. Softly at first, but it soon grew. She was still gone. He finally destroyed her murderer, but it changed very little. He then looked up at the moonlight and screamed out a challenge, as if to God.

His teary eyes drifted back down to earth as he stared passed the giant corpse off into the far distance of the woods, his mind unable to ease itself. Suddenly he noticed some movement that looked like a group of men slowly approaching.

"Ho there," He called, forcing himself to swallow his sorrow and regain composure. "I have to warn you, you're in for a sight. I've just slain the-" His voice trailed off as the group of men walked under the light of the moon, their faces illuminated.. their lipless, dead-eyed faces. More of them began to appear, coming in from another direction. In the dark, Ryder couldn't really tell how many there were in total, but they were certainly still coming. Too many, for sure. He looked to the corpse of the Wendigo and spat upon it before running off in the direction of his horse, whom he had left at the nearest town over. This was something that would need to be reported. It was time to go back to the keep.

Present Day

Commander Rouge was sitting at her desk in her private chambers when she heard the knock at her door. As she got up, she grabbed hold of a rather large knife before answering. She prided herself in always being prepared for a fight. As the door opened, she found herself face to face with Ryder Shaw who looked older than he actually was, his face weathered. The man looked as though he had never known sleep in his life.

"What is it, Shaw?"

"There's something you ought to know." Ryder proceeded to tell her about the undead and how their numbers had grown to what appeared to be the size of a small army.

"Why were you there? Who was with you?" Commander Rouge's face was nearly impossible to read, but Ryder already knew where this was going. His mission was not a sanctioned one.

"I was handling some personal matters."

"The Wendigo." She stated it as a matter of fact. She clearly knew the answer before even asking the question. "And you did it alone, violating our law." Ryder just stood there. A response at this point would just be a gesture of obedience. They both already knew what went down. "We make these laws, Shaw, to protect our people and our investment in them. If you were killed, that's a year of dedication to you and your craft that would have been for nothing. Vengeance is a dangerous thing. Taking on a creature of that magnitude by yourself is a stupid thing. I don't employ stupid people, Shaw. Is that understood?"

Ryder bit his lip and nodded, forcing himself to remain silent lest he say the wrong thing. Commander Rouge was not one you wanted to anger.

"You've forgotten how to work with people. You need to be retrained."

Ryder scoffed and was about to object but suddenly Commander Rouge's hand was around his throat and he found himself up against the wall. He barely registered the move, she was so fast.

"This is not up for debate. If you want to keep wearing that hood, you're going to play by my rules." She hesitantly let go of his throat before continuing. "The trials are underway. Finlay and Trent have their groups going through them now. The groups are big, or at least they were before the trials. You're going to go over there and help mentor them on working as a team. You're going to show them how to act as a unit and hopefully it will serve as a reminder to you as well." Ryder's face contorted with disappointment, but he dared not speak on it. "If you have a problem with that, you can take it up with Zeke. In the meantime, your pupils are in the trial hall. You best go meet them."

With a snide leer, Ryder took his leave and began heading to the trials, his frustration growing with every step.

"Good night! What did you do in there," Finlay blurted out, looking to Kiri and Colin's group. His face was painted with disgust as he covered his nose and mouth with a hand. The smell escaping the room was dreadful. Before an answer came, he quickly did a head count, his eyes bouncing from one initiate to the next. "We're short one," Finlay declared with a softer tone and an heir of disappointment. "The new one."

"Looks like you took some casualties, too," Trent made sure to point out with a slight sneer, the delectability he took in Finlay's shortcomings was lost to no one. Finlay looked at the others as they emerged as well, his head bobbing in a small nod as he met his charge's eyes. Of those who walked out, there was an undeniable sense of pride and esteem coming from Finlay. Of course, he would never admit to it.

"Took ya all long enough," he said finally, his grin subtle and crooked. "But good on ya. You went is as mere dobbers. Amateurs. Ignorant. Stupid. Blind. But now you've emerged as something new. Dobbers with a piss sash. Congratulations. You're yellow hoods." Zeke, the seemingly silent sentinel, slowly moved to each survivor, a pile of folded yellow garments gathered atop his presented arms. A hood for each initiate. A symbol of their status within the organization. "What's mine is now yours," Finlay continued. "Our resources are your resources. But there is a cost. You will train with us on your off time and when you're not training, you will be sent on missions. You will be placed in dangers far less controlled than what you've just faced, against foes who we couldn't catch and contain. It only gets more challenging from here, kiddos." Finlay's crooked smile turned into a full grin as he glanced at them all. "Look around and get familiar with these people because you're gonna be spending a lot more time with 'em. It's all of you and me from here on out."



"And me," Ryder called, his voice devoid of interest or excitement as he stomped heavy-footed down the hallway, his red cloak waving behind him with each stride. His dark, shoulder-length hair flowed back as he moved. His face gave away the fact that he hadn't shaved in quite a while. What wasn't a part of his beard was covered in stubble. He moved with intention and resentment.

"What's that," asked Finlay, bewildered and slightly annoyed for his moment being interrupted.

"Commander says I'm also tasked to this group." Once Ryder was finally standing at Finlay's side, he looked the teams over, soaking them in. The people gathered were certainly eclectic.

"You're not taking this group from me. I've already seen 'em through to the Tria-"

"Not interested," Ryder interrupted. "You're running this. I'm just here until I'm not." His lack of motivation was obvious. He had no intention of being a counselor or a trainer, no desire to water the next crop. It's what he was tasked to do. What he had to do. "I'll admit it's impressive to see this many people walking out through those doors," he said, addressing the teams. "On my day, it was just me. Welcome to the Hoods."

"Right," Finlay said, his voice trailing off slightly as he tried to comprehend this new development. He broke his stare away from Ryder and looked to his pupils once more. "Anyway, the keep is open to you now. The armory, the library, the kitchen, the laboratory, the dining hall, the sparring chambers, the archery yard... hell, I'll even let ya go to the keep's tavern if ya earn your drink during work hours. In the meantime, you're free to get accustomed to this place. I plan on feasting in an hour in the dining hall. You've earned your spots and are welcome to join me, should you have the urge. Otherwise tomorrow morning is Day One. I'm gonna throw ya in the deep water. Ya better learn to swim real quick."

---

---

Kiri stood among the other innitiates -- the Yellows as Finlay commended them and a new man joined their group. She kept her face a careful mask, her adrenaline still pumping through her system.

She'd... she'd done it. She'd faced a monster and won. She raised a hand to touch the blood on her face, already growing thick and tacky. Her sword had a series of dull, ugly nicks near the tip. They were the only physical remainders of the fight. The terrible smell lingered in her nose, the sulfur, the burning, searing flesh and boiling blood --

Someone had died. Her teammate had died. The sounds of his screams echoed in her head, mixing with the dying wails of the monster that she'd set aflame.

Kiri thought she was going to be sick.

She grit her teeth and forced herself back to the present. She stomped down on the creeping, winding, suffocating emotions that tried to weave their way up her spine and around her throat. Her eyes refocused on the people in front of her. Finlay was dismissing them.

Without so much as a word to her teammates, Kiri broke away from the group and started walking back towards the rooms. She needed a damn shower.

---

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---

---

---

---

What in the world was that?! It was like someone set off a clap of thunder by my head! It definitely killed that creature though. Brighid had healed the scratch that she had gotten and Tholo's wasn't far behind. She glanced over at him then at Nicholas as they walked out the door. “What was that Album?”

The question was half forgotten as Finlay announced that they passed minus one. He was replaced by a red hood that wasn't in charge of them. Interesting. Why is he here? His lack of enthusiasm makes this seem like a burden. The thought of pouring over books that might have any amount of knowledge about werewolves was tempting. As was the thought of eating something. Although finding a solution to a potential problem was really more relevant.

She'd never heard of a caster surviving a transformation. She'd heard of a very few that died either in the attack of a werewolf or subsequently afterwards. She'd made it past the fever and she wondered if she only had a fortnight to live or what was going to happen to her.

Brighid was snapped back to the present as Vitius walked off to the armory once they had stopped speaking. Brighid noticed the newest addition walk off as well. More like stalk off. Kiri? I think that was her name. I hope she doesn't need a healer. I'll have to ask her later.

As the rest of them stood there she cleared her throat. “Does anyone need healing?” She looked around at her teammates in concern.

Tags: Everyone currently present.

---

---

Contrary to his thoughts, it seemed like the red hoods didn't get along too well. The glue that held them together and kept them subservient was likely Commander Rouge and her two 'Captains'. It would be prudent to get, at the very least, amiable working relationship with his fellow hoods so that they come back alive from the impossible missions they were to be assigned.

The off-handed mention of the dead initiate made Sadon's stomach stir, this was how he they were to be treated. It wasn't too far off from his days in the Fendrel household. Atleast he was used to something- the fact that they were clearly expendable.

Sadon draped the cloak around his shoulders. Still, he had managed to survive thanks to some level of teamwork. It was a start. His thoughts were interrupted by a few teammates petering off and Brighid offering to heal the injured, she was ever the altruist. The injury on his ear was itched and stung but, luckily, had dried up- he didn't want Brighid to waste her mana. His eyes danced up and down each surviving initiate, each looking not worse for wear than when they had entered. A Hood, that had not given his name, being surprised at their apparent survival rate was noteworthy. All of the initiates exuded an air of competence, so that was slightly reassuring.

"I'll introduce myself again, I am Sadon Fendrel." He bowed lightly, referring to the other initiates. "If you need anything, feel free to approach me. With that, excuse me."

He turned on his heels, sauntering over to his assigned room to wash the caked up blood on his ear. He would likely visit the library or the armory next, maybe the 'sparring' area before going to dinner.

The smell of burnt flesh.

Someone screaming, several someones? Colin couldn’t tell over the whistling in his ears.

Loona was on the floor. Small body twisted up like a ragdoll. She was moving though. Just taken a bit of a tumble was all, it seemed. He couldn’t look at Kiri. Couldn’t look at

He had something in his hand, it was the arrow – when had he picked that up? Didn’t matter though, it’d snapped in two. Red soaked through the thin linen of his shirt. A dull ache, cold where damp blood touched the air, nothing more. Should there be more?

Leaving the room, one foot in front of the other, out into the glow of the day. Finlay was there, so was the other red, what was his name? Trent. Of course. Another man too, heavily scarred. Brown hair – was it-? No. His hood was red. Slightly shorter. Alive.

"We’re short one, the new one." Colin didn’t need to hear the disappointment in Finlay’s voice. It was implicit. They’d failed. Kiri had

Food was mentioned.

One hand on the wall, rock loamy beneath fingers that he couldn’t be sure were his. Darkness wrapped tight around his field of view. Bent over, retching. He hadn’t eaten today. Nothing to eject but yellow bile. His throat should’ve been burning. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve. Straightened, blinked through watery eyes.

Someone, Zeke, handed him a piece of fabric. Yellow. What-? It hung limply from the hand with the arrow. He let the splintered piece of wood hit the floor. Fingers retracted dully around the fabric. Left a smudge of red. Was that his?

The leech walked past.

Muscles tensed instinctively, but just as quickly he was gone.

Then Kiri. Kiri who’s sword had

His arm itched. Dull nails scraped across rubbery scar tissue. He could still smell it. Still smell-

Not looking at the others (had people left?), his legs carried him to the door, still hanging loosely open. Out of the corner of his eye, a flame crackled.

The door swang shut. Wood shuddered and quaked with the force.

“Fucking stinks.” he heard himself say. Got as far away from the door as he could.

“Going…” he didn’t know where he was going. Away. He screwed up his eyes. Shook his head. It didn’t help. Still felt foggy and numb and like he was shouting up a well. Fuck. He hated this. Would rather just be scared. Or mad. Or… or… anything. “Going bed.”

He walked, only vaguely aware of the direction he was headed.

---

---

Ryder looked to Finlay as his trainees began to disperse, trying to get a sense for how the senior Hood felt about his presence. Uncertainly was the only emotion Ryder could pick up. The fact that Ryder wore red already meant that Finlay should be able to trust him, but there was a hint of suspicion in the way Finlay looked at him. It was the same look one would give to a strange dog, unsure if it would bite if you attempted to pet it.

The recruits, or rather the Yellow Hoods, who passed did so without many words spoken. To those that were still gathered, Ryder gave a reluctant nod. "It's Shaw, by the way. Ryder Shaw." Finlay gave a comical scoff, unimpressed with the timing of Ryder's introduction.

"Sure," he mocked. "Now tell us who ya are." Ryder glared at Finlay, burning holes into him with his eyes. They were already off to a great start. "You and I have some talkin' to do, Shaw. I'll see you before we feast, ya?" Ryder responded with a subtle nod. Finlay looked at his people once more and suddenly stood up very straight before pounding a fist over his heart with a single audible impact. A sign of respect to the new Hoods. A salute. He then turned to Ryder and did the same, the latter reciprocated but with much less fervor. Finlay then took his leave, heading who knows where within the keep. Once Zeke had handed out all of the cloaks, he disappeared into the shadows as well. Ryder hadn't had a lot of direct contact with Zeke in his time earning the red. He was still curious what the giant looked like under that black hole of a hood.

Ryder took in a big breath and let out a slow, airy sigh. He opened his mouth to start to speak, but then stopped, unsure what to really say. He'd been traveling for weeks, slain his beloved's murderer, and carried news of impending doom to the head of the most elite force the world had ever seen only to be tasked with babysitting. Then, suddenly, the words he wanted to speak came to him.

"I need a drink." He gave his head one violent shake, cracking his neck, before taking his leave of the group and heading toward the keep's tavern.

Ryder's pace was slow and even. Each step brought with it a new, haunting thought. Step. What now? Step. You've completed what you set to accomplish. Step. Why does it still hurt? Step. What am I doing here? Ryder's fists began to involuntarily clench, his fingernails digging into his skin just enough to smart. He forced his thoughts to cease, focusing mainly on the floor, on his feet, on each step. Part of the training, or at least part of his, was to separate emotion from function. If you fight with emotion, you fight without focus. You mess up. You slip. To execute your mission to the best of your ability, you must do so devoid of feelings, of self pity. The mission is to make it to the tavern. The method is walking. There ought not be anything else to it. Stop thinking, Ryder silently told himself. One foot after the other.



The Keep's Tavern was located across the courtyard in a stand alone hovel off the to corner. Crudely etched into some wooden boards above the entryway were the words "The Stumbling Ass". As Ryder opened a door leading toward the courtyard, he continued his journey right to the bar, swinging the door out wide and immediately taking in the smell of smoke and alcohol that flowed through the open passage, escaping and polluting the otherwise fresh air outside.

The bar was small, having been built to serve only a select type of patron, and was surrounded with various wooden tables. Some of the people were playing cards in the corner while others were testing their might with an arm wrestling match. At yet another table, one could bear witness to a red hood so drunk he had fallen passed out, draped over the table as if he were it's cloth. Ryder rolled his eyes and honed in on a barstool, taking a seat right by the tender.

"A shot. I don't care what, as long as it's strong." The barkeep, an elderly, hefty man who looked like he was in the twilight of his life, gave a pleased nod. The man's face was covered in a patchy white beard that had very obvious holes in it, giving him a very scruffy look. His head, however, was as bald as a baby's bum. The light from the torches all around gave a shimmering reflection off the old man's cranium. Ryder wasn't sure what the man's real name was, but everyone who ever came him always just called him "Bud".

"Here y'are!" Bud said with with an eager smile as he placed the shotglass down.

Ryder looked at it at first and could see some remnants of something floating in the liquid. He looked around the room again and resigned to the fact that sanitation was not this place's strong suit. Screw it, he thought as he picked up the glass, tipped it at the barkeep as a sign of appreciation, and slammed it back down after inhaling it. He shook his head and let out a disgusted gag, unable to even stomach his own saliva after that taste. His spit to the wood planks on the ground, wiped his mouth with the back of his arm and looked at Bud with angry eyes. His pupils were fire. He leaned in a little bit and, between bared teeth, he said, "Another."

---

Tholo gave a sigh at Nick's question."My choice was to die as a monster or die with some dignity,"He stated answering the man's inquiry ",At least here I might die on my own terms, serving a purpose instead of at the end of a chopping block." He rolled up the sleeve of of his left arm, going up midway of his forearm, revealing the bite wound from the attack that left him cursed as a werewolf."I guess with my profession it would of happened eventually, just never thought I'd survive such an attack. Like my father and his father before him I learned the trade of trapping. Knew the woods probably better then anyone else in that area I as raised. While there was always the chance of something dark hiding in the woods, went in all the time to earn my living, never saw any monsters, some normal wolves and bears but no nightmares. Not until three winters back." He explained. Looking back it was hard to imagine he had managed to live with the curse for three years now. It was a miracle he hadn't been found sooner but with the precautions he had taken perhaps those had kept him safe and out of the eyes of the Hood.

The wound itself was story enough. The scar was deep. An ever present reminder of the nature of life: Sometimes, shit happens and it was up to them to adapt or die. Tholo, when given the choice chose to adapt, twice now and that was all the resolve Nick needed. Not to mention the man was looking for a death with dignity... and he was a hunter. "It sounds to me like you were long overdue for a change in professions." Nick shook his head. "That's all they do here is hunt. Only difference now is the entire world is your forest and you've got myself and..." He turned to the woman. "Is it Devout?"

Nyssa had since sat on her bed, cleaning and maintaining her blade while the two gentlemen spoke to one another, to be fair she had since phaseed out from listening to what they were talking about, although she understand the jist of it, she motions stopped for a moment at the hearing of her name, she had not really spoke of it since she got hear, only Finlay mentioned to so she guessed it would not be hard to put two and two together. looking up from her weapon at the two men. "That is correct, My name is Nyssa Devout, I come from the town of Brightwyvern., you are Nick correct?" She enqiured.

Nick gave a nod to Nyssa about to respond to her when Finlay had burst into the room rounding them up to head to their trial.

Skidding across the floor and tumbling without any control nor power to stop herself, Loona couldn't help but be surprisingly grateful for the debris and scattered bones that stopped her. With her lower half bent awkwardly above her, bleary eyes tried to focus on what just happened. Botches of red swarmed the fairy's vision as she assessed what the hell was going on. But before she could get an idea of anything, a bright warm light followed by the combined screams of multiple had her blood run cold. Only a monster could produce sounds like that, no? But the smell... oh gods, the smell... Something Loona managed to block out earlier dulled all her senses. The all too familiar scent of boiling blood, burning skin, and the sounds that came with any sane person... Loona covered her ears and closed her eyes but to no avail, the screams only seemed to grow louder to multiply in her head. Tears of blood from the laceration on her forehead trickled down as they had won the battle in exchange for a life...

Upon exiting the trail ground with one less member, Loona hung her head slightly low, staring at the blood on her clothes and hands. There was nothing to be proud nor excited about. It's what she signed up for, but she didn't expect something like this to happen so soon. Maybe if she was faster, she could have helped in some way. Maybe if they figured out how to deal with the monster quicker, they'd all be in a better mood...

Refusing to make any form of eye contact with anyone, even at the mention of food and the ability to venture to more places within the keep she remained still and hovering under everyone's line of sight, Loona only looked up when she felt a hood drop over her head. It was her size and everything. She only managed a grimace and a tiny 'thanks' before looking to the rest of her teammates. It looked like they weren't feeling any better about this either. Kiri left for the rooms without a word and Colin, who was walking in a similar direction, ...she wasn't quite sure if he even knew where he was going. Remembering back to his previous outburst, it probably wouldn't be a good idea to leave him alone, even if he was just going back to their room.

With a new desire to make sure Colin got back to the room without any problems, Loona slowly and gently placed herself on the man's injured shoulder, resting a hand on the wound to heal it before getting a bit more comfortable on her new porch.
“H-hey, um, how about we get a shower first? I-I mean, it wouldn't be a good idea to dirty your sheets so soon.” It had only been a suggestion, whether Colin decided to go with it or not, Loona would stay beside him until he as at least looking a bit better. And she's try to do the same for Kiri, if she could ever get close enough...

A light pressure on Colin’s shoulder, he flinched, stopped stock still, but it was just Loona. Not twisted and broken on the floor – somehow okay, flying about again. That was good. She placed a hand on the wound. It wasn’t bleeding anymore, but it stung sharply at the contact. He blinked, watching as the two edges knitted themselves back together.

Huh.

That was new.

She said something about a shower, and he looked at her, confused for a second, until he remembered. Right. He’d been going to bed. Because what else was he supposed to do? He nodded dully at her suggestion. What had it been again? Not that it really mattered. If she had a direction she wanted to point him in, then he might as well do that.

He started walking again. The sound of his footsteps flat, the sluggish crawl of the walls passing his periphery the only indicator they were really going anywhere.

His shoulder didn’t hurt anymore. That was… weird. No potion could do that, least not without knocking you flat for the duration. He remembered the question from earlier, “You…” was that his voice? It sounded weird. “You never said earlier… are you... a spell caster or s’umat?”

The tiny, wingless, fairy let her legs swing to and fro once Colin had come slightly out of his stupor, one that she was pretty sure she accidentally caused. She idly brushed off the remaining dust clinging onto the fabric and initially torn flesh, eyeing him with her peripherals. She wasn't surprised in the slightest and could tell just by looking...this guy was already a mess far before coming here. It only took a few nudges here and there to eventually shatter his already crumbling psyche. It kind of reminded Loona of a a puzzle set, but some of the pieces had gone missing over the years and thus would never be complete again...

Loona attempted to get the other to say something with her suggestion, but she was only given a dumb nod. Geez, was he even listening? Despite the worried thoughts, the fairy remained polite, smiling faintly and clasping her hands together before pointing forward.
“Great! If we're fast enough, m-maybe we could catch up to Ms. Kiri.” She hoped to encourage as she place both hand back on his shoulder.

They had, well Colin had actually, walked in silence for just a little bit before it was the bigger of the two who started the conversation, Loona jumping at the sudden voice. Never hearing the term "s'umat" before, blame her secluded nature, the girl tilted her head slightly before answering.

“I-I'm a fairy of the Moon. We don't necessarily cast spells or anything like that, b-but we secrete dust that can promote and replenish life. Our dust is normally used o-on plants and the like, but seasoned fairies can make theirs potent e-enough to heal the physical and some mental ailments of others.” She explained slowly for his sake, keeping a friendly smile on her face. “What about you? Where did you learn to f-fire and arrow like that?” The girl then urged, hoping to keep him talking until they get to the rooms.

Kiri. Kiri was in the room. The thought registered vaguely with Colin at Loona's words, but then faded just as quickly as he continued to navigate the seemingly labyrinthine corridors.

At her explanation, the smallest amount of surprise poked through the fog, "A... fairy," his tongue still felt like lead in his mouth, "you mean... like what's in the stories you hear from your mum?" she'd healed Kiri, and him, and in the trial room, before

when she'd touched his forehead, there'd been... something not quite like calm, but similar enough to allow a moment of clarity. "That must mean... you're powerful then. If you can..." he trailed of, words suddenly becoming inexplicably difficult, the process of putting one foot in front of the other swallowing up a large chunk of his attention.

Her question punctured the fog again, "Oh... that?" it took him a few seconds to think it through, details slipping through his fingers like sand, "I... my uncle." yeah, that was right, "Started me off when I was a littlun"

Loona found herself nodding eagerly at Colin’s statement on fairy.

“Y-Yes, something like that!” Fairies normally are never seen were humans and other creatures resided, so it made sense that there were stories about the assumed fabled creature much like it was the other way around. She even remembered Nick looking at her with curiosity upon first meeting, mostly because of how rare she was, especially in a place like this.

A blush found found its way onto Loona’s face, lightly dusting over the freckles that lined the bridge of her nose and under her eyes.

“Me? P-Powerful? I mean, I just worked hard...n-nothing that special about me...” She mumbled as she started to play with her fingers, legs also now idle. Unfortunately, the fairy had been so flustered by the compliment, she failed to notice the other never finishing what he wanted to say…

As they got onto the topic of where Colin learned how to protect himself, Loona felt the need to tread as lightly as possible. She didn’t want to say anything that could possibly make Colin feel worse, or go completely unresponsive.

“He taught y-you when you were little? You must have been every disciplined to l-learn how to use such a weapon...” A pause, and then a thought came to mind. “Hey, um, maybe after you get some rest and something to eat, how about you teach me how shoot w-with a bow and arrow? I-I’m pretty useless when it comes to p-protecting myself, but if I learned h-how to use a range weapon, m-maybe I could be more helpful?” Loona could only hope a little bit of training would brighten his mood, if only a little bit.

There was something oddly humorous about a mythical creature down on herself for not being 'special' enough. A hint of a smile tugged at Colin's lips, surprising him so much he quickly dropped it, "For what it's worth..."he began, taking a second to get the words straight. It was muddy, but a little less than before, "hard work's still, er..." he trailed off momentarily, what had been saying? Oh yeah, "y'know, hard."

His step faltered at her mention of his training, and he was dimly aware of his hand, reaching up, nails sinking into scar tissue, sensation muted. Disciplined. That was one word for it. More like his uncle had just sat him down one day. Told him if he didn't, he'd be leech food. "Didn't really get much say," he said eventually, "Leeches don't care how old you are, if you've blood in your body they'll drink it."

He could feel himself slipping. Pushed away the memory, tried keep his grasp on the present firm. He was in a corridor. He was walking. Loona was saying something about training, asking if he could teach her how to shoot, "I'd be happy to..." he frowned, "might struggle drawing a bow at your size though... 'd have to find a little one somewhere..."

Too flustered to notice she brightened her companion's mood just a little bit, the fairy left her gaze downward, smiling shyly at his response, and only nodding slightly in agreement. He was right, hard work got her here, and it was now her job to make sure that everyone stayed here. Too bad she'd already failed on that regard...

Her originally loose grip tightened as Colin lost a bit of his footing, only frowning slightly at him. Maybe mentioning anything about his past would do more harm than good, but before she could change the subject he obliged. Loona let him do his thing, not bothering to stop his hand, and instead focused on what he had to say.

“I-I...I can understand that. If you couldn't d-defend yourself, then you'd be nothing but a liability, worse than someone who needed to b-be saved...” It was nice to know that humans weren't all that different when it came to protecting themselves against threats. If only she had someone like that who told her sooner before--

A quick shake of her head brought her back to the conversation, nodding her head understandingly at the difficulties of drawing a bow. She thought about bringing up have she made her sword bigger in the trial, but... “Oh, I wouldn't worry too much about that.” Brilliant green eyes closed as Loona gave the other a toothy smile.

As she brought her attention back to where they were going, Loona quickly pointed to the room they shared with Kiri.

“In there, in there. G-Grab some clothes and we can head to the showers, okay?”

Colin did as she directed, walking into the room.

Four beds. What would happen to Locksley’s now that-? Would it just be left? A permanent reminder of the burningscreamingmelting- He instinctively raised his hand to cover his nose again. It was only when it did nothing to block the stench that he remembered where he was. How it was too late to do anything.

He looked back at Loona, desperate for some kind of anchor, “What…” he swallowed, looked at his hands – shaking. He clenched them into fists. Quiet, he started over, “what d’you think they’ll do with his stuff?”

Kiri glanced up at the sound of the door opening. She was sat on her bed, her dark hair hanging around her shoulders in damp clumps. She’d just finished her shower. Blood was no longer smeared across her face, and her cheeks were still slightly pink from the hot water. She was in casual clothes -- dark pants, and a long-sleeved maroon top. Seeing her ‘teammates’ walk in, she looked back down to her work. She’d knicked the edge of her sword when she’d scratched it against the floor. She ran her whetstone against the blade. She’d set to the task immediately after her shower, desperate for the rhythmic work that might distract her from the events of the day.

Upon entering the room, big green eyes went to the only other figure present, that being Kiri. Despite going through that whole trial together, Loona could still feel the 'ice queen' vibes radiating from the dark haired woman. Before she could open her mouth to greet the other female, Colin's words stopped her.

“They'd probably re-purpose his things and distribute them among the keep for others to use...” She responded honestly with a grim smile.

“It's better than getting rid of his stuff all together though.” In hopes of providing a bit of damage control, Loona stood from her perch on the man's shoulder and began to float towards the windowsill where she left her things.

“Th-There's no point in thinking of it now. L-Let's just take this time to w-worry about ourselves.” She sighed quietly, trying to decide what to wear.

Colin wasn’t listening, his eyes had fallen on Kiri. Or rather, the sword in her hand, and the scratches she was buffing out.

It was like being punched, square in the gut. His fingers were tingling, numb. The whistling in his ears was back. He couldn’t feel his tongue.

“So that’s it then?” he heard himself say, muscles tense, “A man dies and we, what, sharpen out the scratches of his existence?” he glared pointedly at Kiri, anger bubbling in the face of her cool, uncaring demeanour “Hey, do you even care that you pretty much killed someone?”

Kiri’s hands paused. Emotions surged through her like a bolt of lightning -- guilt, regret, nausea, fear, doubt. Her fingers tightened imperceptibly around the whetstone. She forced them all down. She found anger, like a familiar weapon in her hand.

What right did he have to stand there, accusing her like that? What had he done while she’d been so close to the monster’s oozing stench, its claws, its screams -- he’d sat at the back, a safe distance away, firing a single, pointless arrow while she’d done what was necessary. A man had died (oh god she’d killed a man, she’d heard him scream she’d smelled him burn he was dead and it was herfaultherfaultherfault they were right her father was right) but he’d known the risks. They all had.

Kiri forced her whetstone to slide along the blade. ”He’s dead. You’re alive. You’re welcome.”

Just as she managed to pull out something that was appropriate, Loona flinched at the prospect of something that was bound to happen taking place sooner than she thought. They hadn't even had a chance to properly say anything to each other, and they were already arguing.

“C-Come on...b-both of you. Let's not s-start this. We all made mistakes in that trial...l-let's focus on what come after instead.” She tried to diffuse anything from escalating forward. Of course Loona wanted to point some fingers herself, but accusing each other would only lead to more arguing, and even worse, holding grudges. However, just to be safe, Loona position herself so that she was floating in between the two. She was good at making herself unnoticeable, but she needed to be recognized to prove her point.

Teeth grit he rounded on Kiri, face hot and flushed, “Yeah, he’s dead because you didn’t give a shit about making sure he wasn’t! You never even told anyone what it was you were doing! Just went ahead and did it, left us all there like fucking lemmings!” His voice was loud, too loud, he didn’t have it in him to care, “The rest of us are here because we want to fucking protect people” he spat, “You seem to have different ideas though.”

It was only then that he noticed Loona. He looked away, shame faced. She seemed quiet, nice. He doubted she’d appreciate his yelling, “Sorry, Loona,” he said, quieter, “but for anything to come after, we need to know if she” he glared at Kiri, “Can be trusted not to get us all bloody killed.”

“What did you do that entire fight?” Kiri said, her sharp eyes cutting up to him. “She healed us,” Kiri nodded at Loona. “I killed the monster. But did you contribute a single thing? Did you ‘protect’ anyone?” Kiri’s knuckles were white where she gripped the stone and her sword. Locksley -- he’d been half way across the room. Kiri had been the only one close to the monster when she’d set it ablaze, how could she know --. Anger built in her like a storm on the horizon. “You know what?” She put her items to the side and stood from her bed. “You wanna make me the villain, fine. Just remember that you get to have a clean conscience because you were useless. I’m the one who got the job done, and I’m the reason why we’re not all in the ground with him.”

Colin suspected correctly when Loona curled up as he started to raise his voice. Hands cupped lightly over her ears, Loona shot Colin a disapproving look as he continued to berate Kiri for her actions.

“Mr. Colin, p-please, let's at least talk about this witho--” Words, well calming words, clearly weren't working in this situation, with Loona only getting a few words in edgewise against the two before being cut off by the other, but that didn't stop her from trying still. Despite her desire to calm the both of them down naturally, even the small fairy's overly abundant patience was running thin.

It was a little after Kiri stood up that Loona quickly clapped her hands together, a scowl plastered over the normally meek but polite smile.

“That's enough! Both of you! You're acting like children right now!” Loona scolded as she gritted her teeth to bite back a bit of the annoyance that dripped into her voice. Her attention moved to Colin first. “Why do you think Ms. Kiri is some terrible person? I'm not sure if you were completely there during the trial, but she saved our lives! Like she said, we'd probably be dead without her! Mr. Locksley died because the monster at the trial wanted to take one of us down with it. Kiri played no part in his death after doing what the trial asked of us, so stop blaming her for something she had no control over! She did her job unlike us...” She hissed, turning to face Kiri without missing a beat. “And I don't know if you realize this, but without Mr. Colin, you probably wouldn't have gotten the chance to set that monster on fire in the first place! His distraction played just as big of a part as you did, so why can't you just see that?!”

Loona never thought in her life she'd ever be able to yell the way she did, face red and breaths heavy as she tried to explain that the series of events that took place were a team effort. However this little episode of her's quickly died down a she lowered her head to stare at the ground.

“But, if you two really feel the need to pass the blame onto someone, then let it be me, I'm...I'm p-probably the one that really deserves it. It's the healer's job to make sure that i-injuries are tended to and i-it's pretty obvious I d-didn't do that so...I-I'm s-sorry...” Loona took this chance to bow before both humans. Whether it was a sign of wanting to atone, apologize for yelling at the both of them, or to hide the tears rolling down her cheeks, the fairy remained in said position, waiting for the both of them to direct their hatred to instead of each other.

“Loona…” Colin said, guilt welling up and stifling his anger at Kiri, “Locksley was done for the second that… that thing fell on him. That dust of yours is pretty impressive, but I don’t think it’s gonna be curing death any time soon.” He didn’t spare Kiri a glance as he continued, “Wasn’t your fault Loona, you did your best, and you didn’t get anyone else hurt in the process, so don’t… don’t do…” he gestured in her general direction, “that.” he gave her a small smile, “You did a good job.”

Kiri’s jaw clenched tight, her dark eyes not leaving the two of them. Something pinched in her chest, behind her lungs, against her spine. Guilt leaked from her heart into her bloodstream. Then she let out a frustrated huff of breath and shook her head. Turning back to the bed, she sheathed her sword and grabbed it along with her whetstone. Kiri moved to walk past them. She was done with this if they just wanted to berate her.

Loona reluctantly raised her upper half to look at Colin, a slow stream of tears that never seemed to end coming out of her now slightly puffy eyes.

“B-But it's not fair...” She mumbled out while she brought her fidgety hands to her face in an attempt to wipe away the tears. “Ms. Kiri tried her...her best too, but you're blaming her for s-saving our lives... ” She squeaked out while rubbing quickly at her eyes, only making the skin around them irritated. “I-Is it always going to be like this wh-when someone dies d-during a mission? A-Are we always gonna treat the hero like a k-killer?” The question wasn't so much for Colin as it was more a thought that came from Loona's unfiltered mind. She almost didn't see Kiri about to take her leave, but fortunately, the fairy was fast enough to float in her way, hovering at face level. “P-Please, don't go. Y-You two need to realize that things could have been a lot w-worse, and u-understand that we need to work together s-so that i-it won't happen a-again. N-No one’s at fault.” Steadying her voice in hopes that it would get the point across, Loona gave both humans a pleading look.

Colin clenched his fists, anger at Kiri bubbling up once more, spilling over onto Loona, “Do you not get it?” he said, trying to keep his voice low, “If you kill a person, then how’re you any different to a monster?” He could hear himself getting louder, feel himself starting to pace agitatedly, “there’s a line.” He glared at Kiri, “she crossed it.” An air of finality hung over his tone. You had to know what was right and what wasn’t, there couldn’t be an in-between, that was where things got messy.

Done with the conversation, he stalked over to where he’d left his things earlier, picked out the first shirt and pants he found, and left the room, headed towards the showers.

Rage ignited in Kiri, overpowering everything else. He didn’t get to just walk away. She marched to the door, threw it open, and followed after Colin.

”Hey!” It was the only warning he got before Kiri grabbed his shoulder to spin him around to face her. ”You think I’m a monster, do something about it. Go tell the Hoods I don’t belong here.”

A hand. Strong. Grabbing his shoulder. Shit.

Dirt, soft and cold between his toes.

Adrenaline scoured, heart raced, hands lept to the daggers at his belt. He spun. Elbow up, angled - get the bastard in the nose.

”Move boy!”

Didn't matter if it hit. Straight off, full weight, shoulder directed at his attacker's chest - attempting to pin them to the wall. Knife at their throat.

And then… the dark hair... the soft, feminine curve of her jaw… the steely look in her eyes… his eyes widened, instinctively, he released his weight.

Shit. Kiri.

Kiri was taken by surprise when Colin through an elbow her way, reflexes kicking in quick enough to dodge back and avoid the blow. Then she was shoved into the wall, blade at her throat. The surprise gave way to anger. As soon as she felt his weight shift, her hand grabbed his wrist, the other going to the back of his neck. She spun them, using his weight to slam him face first into the wall, her grip on his wrist pulling it up and behind his back, tightening it painfully.

“STOP!” Footsteps could be heard approaching the two humans. Without so much as holding back, the now human sized but still shorter fairy charged, forcing her entire weight onto Kiri's side to push her off of Colin. Once the two were properly separated, Loona stood in between them yet again, anger clear in her bigger features. “God, you guys are acting insufferable!” With this new form, Loona's voice came out a bit deeper, darker, and without a trace of anxiousness nor reserve. Her hair was shorter, freckles much more prominent, and her eyes were like daggers especially because of her earlier crying. Even her clothes looked more mature and less like she'd been based off a doll.

“Making me resort to this is pathetic. It's one thing to argue, but to get physical is just stupid.” Words hard and lacking any sort of sympathetic emotion, the freckled girl folded her arms. “Fine, if you want to act like children, then I'll treat you both like one. Timeout. From each other. No interacting until the next day. Cool off and think for the time being. We'll come back this later...” Large emerald eyes scanned over the both of them before she reached down to grab her now full length rapier.

“And if you can't follow a simple rule like that, then don't expect to get any help from me tomorrow. Are we clear?” Eyes now narrowed, the larger fairy awaited any kind of response.

One second, he’d been pressed up against the wall, arm twisted painfully behind his back, the next… Loona, except… not Loona? Was reeming the both of them out. For fighting. And that was not Loona. He gave her a confused look, “You… you’re, err…. Loona?” he said, too stunned to really process the past few seconds.

Today was shaping up to be a day.

Kiri blinked at the new person. Loona… damn spellcasters. Kiri pressed her lips together, giving an unimpressed look at her lecture. Her eyes cut to Colin. She watched him for a moment.

”The next time you pull a weapon on me,” she said, her voice like ice, ”make it count.” She cast her eyes on the two of them again. Then she turned and stalked down the hallway, eager to be away from her two infuriating teammates.

It looked like being the nice little fairy wasn't going to resolve this situation. Acting any different was against her nature, but if it meant more arguing, she'd have to get over it and pull them back together. Even if it made her feel bad in the process.

Rolling her eyes at Kiri's response as she took her leave, Loona brought her attention back to Colin, the originally sweet smile looking more like a smirk in this form.
“Do you really not recognize me?” She wondered, tilting her head curiously before said smirk was replaced with a frown. “Well, whatever...I don't like using this form anyways so don't talk about it nor get use to it. ...I'm going to the showers.” And with that, the girl stalked off back towards their shared room. However before she made her way inside, the fairy looked back at Colin with slightly squinted eyes. “I was serious you know. Think about everything that took place from the trial until now. Then ask yourself if Ms. Kiri is really as bad as you're making her out to be, okay?” A bit softer this time, Loona gave Colin an innocent grin before dipping into the room to change back into her regular self and grab some clothes.

Colin watched her go, still confused, but also… strangely guilty. She didn't like that form, but she'd felt the need to use it because of something he'd done.

Fuck. He needed a shower. And a nap. He slinked off, a scowl etched across his face.

---

---

As the newly appointed Yellow Hoods began trickling into the dining hall, they would find themselves surrounded by numerous Red Hoods who were already filling the massive room with their back and forth chatter. The tables were long and in rows of three, with bench seats lining each side of them except for one small section at the head of one of the tables which had chairs. Those chairs were curiously empty except for one...



"Dobbers! Here!" Finlay called out, waving them down as they entered the room. An unfamiliar look of satisfaction and even a smile seemed to be plaguing Finlay's face. As they took their seats, Finlay bobbed his head like a proud parent watching their children learn something new. Food had not been served yet and, while they waited, he wasted no time in filling their ears.

"I s'pose first thing's first, eh? Congratu-fookin-lations ya yella bastards, ya!" Finlay let out a hearty laugh as he slapped the table. "As far as I can recall, I believe this is the biggest group to ever make it out together. Good on ya!" He slapped his hand on the table in excitement while he beamed with pride.

"I imagine the next obvious question is 'Now what'." He cleared his throat as he sat up straighter in his chair, his business face suddenly taking over, his mouth shrinking to a thin straight line as his gaze bounced between each Hood's eyes. "Next is the ugly part. You are now authorized and obligated to face the malevolent creatures of the world that are too abominable for standard guards to take on. You will start your path to becoming the things monsters fear. The boogeyman's boogeyman."

"Many of our recruits come here to address a trauma or to train up enough to be able to enact vengeance. While I cannot officially endorse such motives, I can tell ya, ya came to the right place. If ya got some loose ends that need tying up or were inspired to put on the hood so you can take on a particular nasty that had some sort of impact on yer life, now's the time. But no one, no one goes it alone. Them's the rules. Of course, there are those who pay no mind to the rules," Finlay's thoughts immediately went to Ryder, "but breaking these rules will have consequences."

"So if you've got some matters to settle, let me know what they are and find some people to go with you to settle 'em. By that same token, the Hoods have matters to settle as well. Commander Rouge will be tasking us with certain missions that hears about and it is our duty to take care of it. If you don't hear about these missions from the Commander directly, you'll be hearin' about them from me. On Hood missions, not everyone has to go, but a Red Hood must be present at all times. No negotiating on that point."

"In fact, the Commander has already asked me to meet with her tomorrow morn for a briefin'. I'll let ya know what it's about once I do." Just as he said it, he began to see some of the Red Hoods coming out from the kitchen doorways with large plates adorned with food that they gathered on the great table at the head of the room. The feast was a grande one. Finlay felt himself salivating just a little as he watched the food pour in. "Uh... what was I... missions, groups, ah, hell - fook it. Anyway, if you've got a personal objective you want to take on, now might be a good time to recruit your partner or partners. In the meantime, I'll brief who's left tomorrow about what I find out. If ya have any questions, you know where to find me. It's self serve. Let's eat! Oh, and drinkers," Finlay's eyes fell on Vitius. "Yer gonna wanna take a trip to the kitchen. The Hoods make use of all of the kill, including the part you'll be interested in. Go get you a pint."

Finlay slapped the table again, his ear-to-ear grin having returned. "Fookin' Yellas. Look out, world!"