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Hey good to see its getting started. Just a few questions:

Will there be a Discord for this RP?

What time is it IC for the Arianna post?




Lucas almost leapt out of his chair when the assistant director dismissed Pandora like that. Were they really forcing her to take leave? She had done nothing wrong. Sure she wasn’t the nicest hero, definitely not the nicest person. But if she hadn’t been there, the entirety of Castleburg might have been experiencing nuclear winter right now. Sure she was rude, she had even been talking back to the assistant director right now, but she was no less a hero because of it.

Despite his disagreement, Dawnbreaker couldn’t just argue with HERO like that and Lucas knew it. Instead, he slowly returned back into his seat without speaking up. He just had to sit back and watch her walk out. The assistant director knew what he was doing, he had more info on the matter. At least, Lucas would have to trust that.

For the rest of the address, Dawnbreaker did his best to keep full attention. Only breaking it to stare daggers into the back of Blitz’ head when hearing about the death count. He couldn’t believe the death count was mainly caused by his own side. How could someone who kills so freely ever be considered a hero? Such a person should not be said in the same breath as heroes, Dawnbreaker thought.




At the end of the address, Dawnbreaker was quite eager to begin the next missions. Hearing about the Rainy Day club and the mission to shut it down made him excited. He was waiting for the moment he could get some revenge on Ms Everette. It was time to show them that no one escapes justice. The moment played through his head like a movie with cinematic shots of him finally defeating Sam. It sounded perfect.

But then he looked on the roster.

Dawbreaker - Mission Coast Guard

This must have been some kind of mistake, Dawnbreaker chuckled to himself. He was perfect for taking down that night club of crooks and criminals, but not investigation work. No one looks at Dawnbreaker and pictures Sherlock Holmes, so there is no way they put him on it.

"Hey, uh, I think you have a typo on this sheet here. It says I’m Mission Coast Guard?" Dawnbreaker spoke out.

“The rosters are double and triple checked. A typo isn’t possible I’m afraid.”

Dawnbreaker was quick to take out his phone under the desk and text his handler at the Starbright Foundation, Heather Golding. She was a nice old lady and she would definitely fix it if he asked.

"Hey Heather, hope you are doing well." Dawnbreaker texted. "Got a small problem with the HERO roster, they seem to have accidentally put me on some investigation mission? Could you fix that mistake up for me."

After a short pause he got a reply. “Sorry DB. Orders from the big guy himself. Enjoy your sleuthing.”

Starbright had taken him off the nightclub mission. Sure he knew the reason behind it, but that didn’t make it any less frustrating. Looks like he had to suck it up and just try his hand at detective work. Still, he couldn’t stay mad at Heather. "Ok I understand. Thanks Heather." He texted back, concluding the short conversation.

There was no crying over spilt milk, he would have to make the most of the situation. Looking at the team, he was by far the most high profile hero there. It was important to keep that appearance.

Dawnbreaker stood up and walked over to the meeting point. He then waited for the others on his team to come over, holding his trademark confident stance. He hadn’t met most of the people on that list. He had seen that one new guy from the Starbright Foundation. What was that guy's name again, Gerome?

Dawnbreaker only really knew Stray, one of his old academy teachers, who was here for some reason. He would have thought the guy would be retired by now.








Ling-ling Zamlock. The man needed no introduction in Franz’ mind. His mere presence ripped the Austrian boy’s attention away from his conversation with Inti. All eyes were on him. What interest did such a man have in Bermuda specifically, as opposed to the global stage?

”Would the real Franz Steiner please stand up?”

Franz was taken aback in shock. One of his idols, the man who stood atop of the world of violin, had directly asked for him. Had the tales of his exploits earned him such recognition? Franz was quick to compose himself as he began walking toward the stage. What was he thinking, of course he had made such a name for himself. He was Franz Steiner, and he was the only one who could gather the reputation that was held in that name.

Franz took the stage and took a bow to accept the honour in front of his fellow students. He graciously accepted the violin that was handed to him. The two exchanged pleasantries as they prepared their instruments for the duet.

”I must admit Zamlock, you were one of my role models when it came to honing my skills on the violin. When I first moved to Vienna, I had seen you perform in person in the first year. I was mesmerized by the skill you displayed then and I had thought then that no one could surpass such a skill.”

”I wish to humbly compare my skill to yours.”

Even if Franz couldn’t satisfy his desire to surpass all others tonight, it was certain that this would be the grand conclusion to the night he had been waiting for. It would be a duet like no other.

Certainly, it would be more fitting than that amateur British drivel those two drunkards requested. Of course, Franz did expect much better. If the British had musical taste, they wouldn’t be called British.

As Franz adjusted his sheet music, a glint of recognition passed over his eyes as he looked toward the Ottoman boy he had spoken with earlier. Civil war eh. No time to dwell on it just yet though, the people had been waiting long enough for this performance.

The genius youth met the gaze of the untouched apex and in unison, they raised their violins.

It has begun.




Franz could keep up with the maestro in the duet well enough. Although Zamlock was certainly in the lead position, even if the untrained ear couldn’t hear it. This did not bother Franz for the time being. He would allow the maestro to take the lead for the start out of respect. He had other matters to ponder on anyway.

The Austrian boy scanned the room with the stage as his vantage point. While he did need to look down to the page frequently, he was able to keep a sense of showmanship while he surveyed his future colleagues. With the matter of Konigmahne’s rush to conduct family business and de Bordeaux’s comments about snakes in the grass, one thing was made abundantly clear. Many of these students were not here for genuine academic purposes, much like himself, they served some outside interest groups.

But that left some key questions on Franz’ mind. Just how many of them were like him? How many looked at their fellow students only to try and find a place to slip a poisoned dagger? Could he see some doing such a thing in the crowd right now? How exciting, Franz thought. And then his attention fell onto Salim, his target.

Civil war had broken out in the Ottoman Empire. Such news was very good to Franz. One of the greatest threats to Austria was crumbling at its base. All Franz needed to do was make sure it toppled over. As long as Salim stayed in Bermuda, voiceless and unable to help his country, the empire will have lost one of its great minds to help stabilize the political system. All Franz had to do was make sure Salim stayed in Bermuda with minimal contact to home.

On the other hand, if Salim would tried to leave back to the Ottoman Empire, Franz would have no issues dealing with him. It would be a great tragedy if Ottoman insurgents managed to take out the young Formulization prodigy.

But enough of those thoughts, it was about time Franz took the lead in the duet. He began to play louder and with more gusto, only for the maestro himself to match it and surpass it only slightly. Franz looked toward Zamlock and the two exchanged pleasant smiles. Franz furrowed his brow and tried again a few bars later, only for the same result. The maestro was playing with him, not allowing him to take the lead.

To the untrained ear, this would sound like the two experts were making the duet truly come alive. But to Franz, calling it a duet was far too pleasant for what this was. It was a duel. Franz was the aggressor, listening in for any opportunity Zamlock gave to take the lead and trying to take it. But Zamlock’s defence was perfect. Every time Franz tried to leave the shadow of the maestro, he would match it immediately, maintaining his position.

Franz hid his look of frustration behind a facade of theatrical confidence. The maestro was playing with him. The two continued to exchange pleasant smiles throughout the song. There was no way that Zamlock was not aware of what Franz was trying to do. Did he hold the same malcontent that the boy hid behind his grin, Franz wondered. Was the maestro trying to send a message of humility to the young prodigy or was Franz merely letting it get to his head?

The exchange continued like this until before Franz knew it, the song was over. To an outside viewer, this was a spectacularly grand performance on both the violinist’s parts. One may even think that Franz should consider himself proud to keep up with the world’s greatest violinist. But Franz knew better, there was no point that he had shown himself capable to outplay Zamlock. Franz had lost the duel of strings.

Afterwards, Franz spent a brief moment studying the man. What was his intention behind this? But any attempt was fruitless. If it is was humility the maestro wanted to give the prodigy, Franz would have to endure its bitter taste.

Franz gave a smile to the man he admires and reached to shake his hand. ”And thus, I believe I have my answer. Now if you will excuse me, the night is close to finishing and I would like to dance some more.” Franz gave a bow before exiting the stage to return to the floor. There was no point trying to contend further with the maestro, the difference in skill was decided far before the song had ended. He would need to exercise patience and practice before he could surpass that man.




Ok made the changes:

-Faceclaim added

-Sorry about the grammar, it was made quickly. Although, the majority of them are just differences between regular English and American English.

-The attic equipment is a mix of whatever he can find. There's a reasonably impressive collection now

-Took away the TBD for personality, I feel like you get the rest of his personality in the backstory section anyway. Plus I'm someone who likes to develop personality during writing

-I am going to still say he isn't part of the Rogues. Despite being basically a Rogue, it speaks to his paranoia that he never officially becomes a part of them









Heavy work in progress. Still need a proper face claim. Might make a supporting Rogue character if that's allowed.



Nice I'll try to have a character concept out by tonight


Franz had left the other boy behind while he went to go grab his jacket. Did he expect his call to action to work? In truth, probably not. Most of the students seemed terrified to take the stage before he danced, and now after his performance, the pressure was probably too much. Franz slung his jacket back over his shoulders then wrapped the tie around his neck. While he was adjusting the tie back into his previously formal look, he turned around with a smug smile on his face. He was expecting an empty floor but was pleasantly surprised.

The boy was actually doing it, he had taken to the stage. All things considered, he was not bad either. Franz felt the need to stick around and watch. After all, he had been caught off guard by the boy's bravery. It's not as if Franz showed it though. This had only caused him to raise his eyebrows a bit in surprise. Franz had an image to uphold and he was not about to look outwardly baffled just because of one incorrect assumption.

Who was this boy that he would do what no one else in the hall was willing to? Certainly, everyone here was worthy of name recognition. But the name of this boy had never reached Franz. It was an unfortunate reality that news, rumours, and tales are not held equal in the Occident. Franz could probably name every person from the Occident here, the Konigsmahne's fall from grace, the fire include du Bordeaux, and the Oriental defector are all tales he has heard multiple times. But when it comes to the New World, the stories are few and far between. Franz wanted to inquire about this New World boy, but he would not ask the people around him. The best first impressions were made face to face after all.

The boy's dancing was humble and clearly improvised. He could see some sort of style and form coming through, but the music certainly didn't fit it. In truth though, it was an enjoyable performance. When Inti was taken outside of his comfort zone, improvisation was used to the flow of the music. It reminded Franz of dancing in his home town. Before rules and strict conduct was a demand for something as natural as dancing.

Franz clapped at the end of Inti's dance and caught his attention as he was exiting the floor.

”Well done, very well done. I assume you haven't learnt much in the way of Occidental dance, but the confidence was there. Certainly, I don't see anyone else willing to take to the centre.” This was probably the first thing Franz had said all night that was entirely genuine. ”My name is Franz Steiner, but I have not quite caught your name.” He held out his hand as if expecting a hand shake.


I'll chuck my interest in
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