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    1. Ryouko 9 yrs ago

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8 yrs ago
Well, been gone for a while. Back now though!

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When Ky and Juno introduced themselves, he rolled his shoulders back, and dipped his head respectfully. "Well, to Werecats, I would imagine that Wolves do not like them simply because they're like Canines." He said to Juno, and to Ky, he gave a light nod. Ky had a strange companion, but he could hardly blame him when he had a dragon for his friend and trusted companion. "I am known as.." Oh. Perhaps he was speaking too slowly. Instead, when they turned, he turned and bounded back to Dwerva. She raised a leg, slightly amused by the demeanor the two people had shown, and he leapt up it, swinging into the saddle atop Dwerva's back. Nonetheless, he followed from up there, Dwerva's steps light along the ground, despite her enormous size.
Dwerva landed in the most open space she could find, trying to make her landing as gentle as possible. Reaching up to pat the side of her neck, he then leaned down, his hands unlatching his legs from where they had been securely fastened to the saddle. Dwerva looked back at him, one large, purple orb focusing on him as she shook her head. 'I wish you would stay on my back, little one.' She stated, and he slid from the saddle, walking around to her front. "It will be fine, Dwerva. We would both be more useless on the ground if I was still in that saddle." He said, tightening the leather strip which held back his hair.

They began moving through the forest, taking care not to disturb a great many of the trees. Focused on the presences as he was, he could see that by now the wolves had taken off. That was a relief. He would have to hunt them sometime with Dwerva. Not for him, but for the thrill of it. And his dragon needed food. When he reached them, appearing from the underbrush of the forest, he took a moment. These people didn't seem entirely human, not from their energy, but one seemed more like a magician. The other seemed to be a Werecat in their human form, based on the ears and tail. Dwerva approached from behind him, and he raised a hand, speaking a greeting. "Atra--" coughing into his hand, he switched languages, knowing they probably wouldn't understand the elvish greetings. Not many had been into his homeland yet. "Hello. Where am I?"
Finally, he was getting to go home. After five years of training with the Dragon Riders, helping with raids, rebuilding, and keeping the peace, he was going home to see the celebrations of Ellesmera once more. Wind whipped past his face as he sat back on the saddle that Dwerva wore, crafted by his own hand. His legs were strapped to the saddle, so that his dragon was free to fly as she saw fit. And fly she did, darting in and out of the clouds above them, scales glistening with the water from the inside of the clouds.

Aranel couldn't even be mad at her for getting them both soaked. Not when the heat from the summer sun would dry them off, or the wind would whip off the moisture from their eyes.

Alright back there, little one? Dwerva asked him, through their shared mental link, and he scowled playfully at her, reaching up to pat one of the spikes on her back. "Seems to me that I need to be asking those questions, what with you flying so slow." He challenged, and she laughed, in that sort of broken growling he had become accustomed to.

And then, she shot off, over the sea, the sun reflecting their presence for the world to see. Land passed under them as they flew over Alagaësia, Dwerva making their presence known by the common way. Roaring.
They had left their ship at the halfway point between the two continents of Alagaësia and where the Riders had come to call home, deciding to cross the sea by flight and hopefully find themselves home earlier.

Finally seing the treeline in the distance seemed to fuel the exhilaration that trickled between their shared mental link. Whooping, he allowed his consciousness to slip into Dwerva's, so that he could see better with her eyes. That was Ellesmera, no doubt. The trees were tall and ancient, and he could feel their singing from here. "Faster, Dwerva!" He called as he slipped back into his own body, leaning down and against her back to reduce their drag. Shooting over the trees, with his head down, he hardly noticed the change in the air, nor how the scenery suddenly changed, until the daylight vanished from the corners of his eyes. Dwerva stopped, shocked, and flapped her wings in the air, confused, and Aranel's reaction was no better. "...Where is Ellesmera?" He asked, frowning, as he looked around. 'It was just daytime. The work of a shade?'He asked himself, and Dwerva shook her head slowly. 'No, young one. I cannot sense a shade here, and there are only a few other people nearby.' Aranel growled slightly, and expanded his senses, his eyes falling shut. "Dwerva, let us land. We'll go on foot from here, and find these people. And some answers." He said, as he finally was able to pull up the signatures from their energies, picking them out amongst the trees and other living organisms. They seemed..strange. Different, somehow.
Name: Aranel
Dragon's name: Dwerva, in the ancient language, meaning Night.
Age: 18
Dragon's age in human years: 6.
Gender: Male
Race: Half-Elf
Dragon's Gender: Female.

Appearance: Aranel is lean, like most elves, but tall, around 6'0" or so. His blue eyes are as vibrant as the ocean that surrounds the island of Illium, while his hair is a rich brown that flows about his shoulders, tied back with a loose strip of leather. He moves with the grace of an elf, even in his rough steel armor that was forged for him, not sung from the trees surrounding his home. The armor is plated, spreading over his body and hiding a layer of chain mail underneath the metal. His helm is shaped like the skull of his dragon, Dwerva, in the front, with two horns circling back to meet at their tips at the brow and back of the helm. He hardly wears it, though, except when riding, as it helps to keep the wind from his eyes.

Dwerva, his dragon, is named aptly so, as her scales are as dark as the night sky, except for her ivory talons, which glitter like the stars when seen against her scales. She, being young, bears no armor, as she is still growing. If you need a size for scale, she is currently around as big as a dragon in Skyrim would be, with a wingspan of 30 feet on either side of her.
Personality: Cool, and collected, he has spent most of his life being frowned-upon for his heritage of being a half-elf, but not treated unfairly, given how rare children are for Elves. He doesn't have a very good grasp of fun, except for the traditional celebrations of his kind.
Dwerva is wise beyond her years, as all dragons are, but she tries to encourage her Rider to get out and actually have some fun.
Universe: Eragon's universe in the Inheritance Cycle, set many years down the line when dragons were more abundant once again.

Abilities: He is fluent in the Ancient Language, which prevents lying to one's knowledge, meaning if he believes it to be true, he can say it. The Ancient Language is also a way to channel his magic in a safer way, rather than casting it non-verbally and risking the spell changing with his focus.
Given the nature of his Heritage, he is only near half-superhuman in terms of strength and speed, with his base being around a human in their prime. His senses are enhanced, however, and he is able to sense most things around him, like the life of the trees, and insects, and other people, and draw on it for spells if necessary.
He is also proficient in swordplay.
Dwerva is a prodigy of the Ancient Language, and can breathe fire. She's as strong as any dragon, and fast, able to pull off many acrobatic maneuvers. Sometimes she and her rider can also meld their energies together, making them stronger than any normal magician in their world.

Items/Equipment: Besides his armor, he has two brightsteel swords, one newly forged by Rhunon, forgemaster of the Riders, and her apprentice, named Freohr, or Death, as its shimmering black design seems to reflect most light. It is positioned at his hip, the blade around 3 feet long. Freohr is kept in a black scabbard, though there are ivory carvings down the length of the scabbard, reflected on Arvindr's, or Wind-Eagle's, purple scabbard. Arvindr is a shimmering Purple hand and a half blade, in the style of a four-foot broadsword, slung across his back, with the hilt over his left shoulder. Both blades are fixed with a glittering diamond at the tip of the hilt, made for storing energy so that he can draw from them if needed.
History: His history isn't that grand, despite one of the eggs of the dragons hatching for him. He was raised in Ellesmera, the capital of the Elven kingdom, like many others his age when the war with Galbatorix had ended and the elves were seeking to repopulate. He was born near the end of the growth, however, so he had few others his own age to actually spend time with. When the leader of the Riders sent Eggs from his dragon back to Ellesmera to continue the tradition that had been started with Saphira, dragon of Eragon, and the children had been brought around the eggs, he was more than surprised when one hatched for him. As for her name, he was 12, despite his advanced intelligence at that age, as most elves, and so he picked which name he thought best suited her. Dwerva.

After a year with the elves for training, as was customary, he was sent to the riders, where he had trained, fought, and protected his homeland from pirates, roving warbands, and the like. And that brings us to where we are today.
Allure City Laboratory

Ryan Xercial had been having a good shift, so far, before he had received a call from his wife on the clear screen that rested above his desk, connected to it by a thin band of Veranite. It wasn’t like her to call him in the middle of a shift, but when he answered, he knew it was her voice, from the frantically spoken words that she said as soon as he had answered. “Ryan, I know you’re at work, but do me a favor, and turn on the news.” Ryan’s thin eyebrows, which seemed to not be hair, but darker skin resting where the eyebrows on a human would normally, furrowed in confusion. As she spoke, her higher pitched voice signaled to Ryan that she was almost on the verge of screeching, as it echoed in the laboratory office he had been given. The male began to speak, only to have his wife cut him off before the first word could leave his mouth. “Just do it, Ryan, please.”

Frowning, he leaned forwards, and his long digits brushed the glasses on his head, to turn on the electronic overlay that made work so much easier for him. The display on the inside of the lens flickered to life, and, instead of waiting on the main display to fully appear, he drew a hasty design with his eyes to bringing up Allure’s news network. His body went rigid as his blue skin paled even further. Allure wasn’t on Fortis anymore. Earth? He had apparently caught the broadcast that Margaret Iedereen had sent to most of the planet near the end. “Veronica, be careful and keep safe in the house. Alright? I’ll be home after a little while. Thank you, I love you.” He said, before she sighed, and responded. “I’ll be going to see if everyone else is okay. I love you too.”

And then, silence, so the dark-haired male turned both the desk display and his glasses off. God, he had just gotten this advancement. Did everything have to go wrong now? Especially when their shift was over in four more hours, and then it would’ve been another sector’s problem. Ryan slid his gray lab coat on over his shirt, the broad shoulders almost too much for his smaller frame, before moving towards the door that lead to his sector of the laboratory, where he was sure nobody else had seen the broadcast. The electronics in the work facility were generally restricted, except for the heads of each sector, who wore gray coats to signify that they were the Head, the one in charge of what they did for that shift.

The coats,stretching from the hood at the top to the floor, were also resistant to most of the materials that were more volatile until harnessed correctly, so Heads were more at risk of being asked to handle dangerous materials, such as Banurium, which was primarily refined to power new buildings until they were connected to the city’s power source. Unrefined, however, it was explosive, and could be used in bombs, as a single bar around the size of a Neurian’s head could be used to destroy a three story house. And Neurians were relatively large, around three meters tall.

As the door faded, when he neared it, reappearing after he crossed the threshold, the Head called to the rest of his sector. Ryan faced them with a calm look, though internally, his mind was anything but calm at the moment. If they focused on his eyes, and not just the way he was standing, they would see worry, and fear, reflected in their dark depths. His skin was perspiring, dark droplets of moisture causing him to appear darker than his usual pale blue. The droplets carried a sweet smell, almost like a flowery candle, but had an acidic component, as he had to resist the urge to take off his glasses, for fear of the moisture warping the frame.

“If anyone here has kin outside of Allure, on Fortis, I want you to take a break, right now, and go try and contact them. The situation right now is that we are on a new planet. Why? I’m not sure, but I’ll be spending the next few hours while you are out working on finding a solution. But when you get back, I need everyone here to be ready to research ways to get us out of this situation. Every stop taken out. I don’t care whether or not we’re supposed to be working on something. This takes absolute priority.” The varying faces of his sector nodded, and Ryan made sure to make a mental note of those who had reacted the strongest to his news, from the ways that their sensory sacs shifted, some bunching up where some species had their ears, to the skin itself of a few races flushing a neon green, like they were about to be sick. He knew that a few of them lived outside Allure, and so their various kin were probably more than worried sick. With a swift turn to his left, he turned on the display to his glasses, as people had begun to rush out in what was almost a frenzy, to contact their loved ones. He had a few calls to make, but they weren’t personal. Now was the time for him to show why he had earned his position among his colleagues.

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

“Once more unto the breach, it seems.” An Alluran scientist spoke, softly, as he walked through the brightly lit hallway, passing other workers as they moved past him. As one of the more fluid workers literally opened up and passed him, leaving him slightly disoriented, Ryan shook his head at the being's antics. Ryan and his team had been at work for the past twelve hours, and working for the past eight of them. Not all of them needed full sleep each day, able to put half of their brains at rest while the other continued to work. Such extended periods as what they were doing now was frowned upon, as it could have negative effects, but this was not a normal job.

They had been working to design something that, scientifically, was far above what was in the R&D department right now.

Not only was Ryan working on something to put Allure in its proper place, he was working on another machine that, hopefully, would work in returning the dead Spaniards to life. They, along with the victims of the beam that had suddenly broken through the center of the city, had been killed unnecessarily, and he was sure that they would be needed. This day brought nothing but carnage. Carnage on a scale that was unprecedented to this date, in Allure. A gigantic...no, not even gigantic was enough to describe the wave of water that was headed their way, though he was quite safe, due to the elevation shifting quite rapidly in Allure's tectonic plate. And thank goodness for that.

My, how glad he was that the Laboratory wasn't near the center of Allure. Better than that, his home, which was located in the downtown area of Allure, was far from what they had determined to be the epicenter of both blasts, and thus, he wouldn't have to worry about it being sectioned off. He could go home and see his wife, and make sure she was actually okay, besides the hour break he had just taken to go home and check on her. She hadn't blown the house's glass to bits with her voice, so that was always a good thing to know. Their race was rather prone to, in times of emotional distress, discharge their voices at such a frequency and power that it could shatter glass. Which also meant that they could hear higher frequencies as well, which was useful when testing things. However, none such as what he was doing.

As many of his team liked to remind him, to tell the higher ups, you couldn’t bring back the dead, but that didn’t stop Ryan from pushing both himself and his team to accomplish such a task. The Scientist in him was curious. His personal morals could be pushed aside, but there would be people who might abuse the technology, even in the government he worked for.

After dismissing the workers under him to check on their families, he had delved into illegal machines that had been created to restore health, or repair the body to top condition. Machines that, generally, had been misused by the people, and thus were labeled as a danger to society. The only danger to society, in his mind, were the people within the society itself, or the traders who came from far off planets to show their wares, which, even illegal, were still used by some of the city.

However, he hadn't been initially hired so he could debate over the politics surrounding such things.

He was pulled from his musing when the tablet that was held against his body vibrated. One, two, three pulses of vibration against the side of his body. Usually, it would’ve come from the glasses he wore, but, in the lab, he preferred to use older technology when it came to the outside world. Earlier was an exception, as he hadn’t let his tablet charge the night before work. Ryan bought the blocky thing at an antique shop, and upgraded it to be able to function with modern electronics, including the modern charging pads. He had picked it up from home on his break, as it contained most of his notes on Spatial anomalies themselves, and a few last minute notes. Ryan, picking up his stride, turned the screen on, weaving around the other people in the hallway. Quickly, his eyes glanced down at the tablet, with a glance stolen at the screen that was clutched against his left forearm.

Holo Meeting, Twenty Minutes.

Just that on the screen in big, blocky letters. No doubt sent from the higher ups. Sighing, he walked through the door to his sector, speaking out as he entered. “You better have something for me in the next Ten Minutes. Whatever you’ve got, I need. I’ve got a meeting with the higher ups.”

Hearing the crew behind him scrambling to comply with his demand, Ryan sighed, fixing his glasses, before proceeding to go to the machines that he had gotten from Allure’s confiscated stash, dark eyes narrowing in thought. Cell reprogramming. DNA splicing. Bio-organic grafting and regeneration. He had toyed with each of these ideas as separate entities, not knowing exactly how each machine worked. A couple of the workers had suggested that perhaps the regenerative machine could be made to work in mass, with enough power, using the same genetic splicing method to pull the DNA from a biological sample of each spaniard. But that was as far as they had gotten. There wasn’t a known way to combine the two machines, and so he had sent the idea to a couple of contacts in the engineering department, who still hadn’t gotten back to him. Ryan couldn’t blame them, honestly. He was asking for a lot. Not only were the machines never made with the intention of integrating them into others, there were also issues tampering with the sensitive technology altogether. So, while they had run into a wall there, Ryan had been pleasantly surprised to find out that a few of the other scientists had been tackling the other issue they faced.

How to correct the anomaly altogether, and put Allure back on Fortis, or bring Spain back to appease Earth’s inhabitants, in any case. A few of the theories themselves were crazier than he wanted to give credit for, and so he had disregarded them but encouraged the few that had given him such suggestions to continue to work and try and make a model for him, but he had been given a good idea on how to fix the problem. Spatial Displacement. It was the reason that they were in this situation in the first place, so the technology wasn’t the problem. The only problem that he kept running into was how they would do it. Not only that, but there were items he needed. Items from their planet, that were specific to their home world, Fortis, such as Dianium, Frigonite, and Cyanurum (***). Things that were generally used to trigger a massive space-time distortion. Taught about, but extremely rare, as Fortis had torn almost all of it from the planet, keeping it safe, far away from the main planet. Finding substitutes here would be more than time consuming, and weren’t guaranteed to work, assuming they could put together something large enough, with substitutes for the three materials, to either swap the cities back, or bring Spain's citizens back to Earth. And even then, there was no guarantee that they’d be able to pinpoint Fortis’s location from where they currently were on this new planet.

Power was no issue, theoretically, either, as they would be able to connect the machine with the same energy that powered Allure, but that also posed a problem. How would the bodies react with the energy? Would they be able to regulate it enough through an already sensitive machine?

He had also been studying past cases of scientists trying to revive, or bring back the dead, in case the machines themselves didn't work. More recent theories had come up that perhaps the dead cells could be cycled out, replaced with fresh, live ones, in a short time, with something pumping the blood through the body rather aggressively to give the heart and brain a jump start. He had disregarded these theories until it became apparent that something would need to tell the body how to function while the brain was still under reconstruction, or freeze the body in time. They didn’t have the Frigonite to channel power through for such a machine on this planet. And so, he had sent that idea to his engineering contacts as well, to combine the two machines with a freezing chamber, so that while during the reconstruction process, the body itself didn’t just fall apart.

No wonder nobody had gotten back to him.

Then there came the process of restarting the frozen bodies, and put one of the team members into investigating how such things could be possible. The member found his answer in the cases of those who had been heated back to a normal temperature from near frozen, and their hearts, forced to pump and circulate blood, which had begun to pump blood again when they were warm enough. It was successful, and the patients only suffered minor nerve damage from the whole ordeal.

Personally, Ryan said that minor nerve damage would be preferable to Death. He had drawn up diagrams to explain the process, but, today would be the first presentation to the higher ups of this idea. And, while it could be done with enough machines, he had to run tests with the animals of this planet before he would even consider doing such tests on humans that were grown in a lab. For the love of Cinzak, the beings of this planet were fragile.

Not to mention, how could they even begin to guarantee that they'd be fully grown? For all he knew, the machines wouldn't work together in the first place with the humans. If they did, there was no telling at first if they would be reborn as babies, and have to grow up again, or if the vessels would even last an extended period of time.

Once again torn from his thoughts, the research was pushed into his chest by the second highest person in the laboratory's sector,. Her dark, scaly hands felt like Snake skin against his hand, before she withdrew it, her scales turning a lighter shade as she drew farther back. However, instead of a collection of files or a hard drive, the research came in the form of a black cube. Ryan looked at the worker who had brought the cube to him, and called after her. "Thank you, Veran." A slight twitch of the floral buds on the back of her head signaled that she had heard him. She turned to nod her stubby head at him before retreating to her desk, where she remained..standing? It was hard to tell, since her tail was positioned in such a way as to allow her to put weight on it, almost like another leg.

When Ryan had left the sector, there were only seven minutes left. Two minutes to get to the black archway, five to get into the conference itself, early. Ryan began to flip through the research notes on the cube he had been given by the worker, his nimble digits allowing him to swipe at a greater speed, as his race was able to process things at a much faster rate than what was considered normal. It was why they mostly took the jobs that required quick thinking. The cube, itself, was a projector, constructed from Veranite, and designed to work in even these conferences, so that it was easier to transport files across larger distances.

All in all, He was satisfied with the progress they had made. Though, if he was being honest, there wasn’t much more than theory at the moment, and they might have an issue with that, but who could blame him? This was so far above anything that they had on file at the moment that could be done with their current machines, and perhaps far above Earth's capabilities as well. Using a cloth wipe to wipe away the perspiration above his brow, he swallowed, softly, before he put the cloth into the left pocket of his lab coat.
Damian Smith

Alias: “Red"

Race: Human

Age:18

Height: 6’0
Weight: 140(self) lbs. Plus the exosuit, adding around 50 lbs to his frame, 190 lbs.
Hair Color: Crimson Red
Hair style: Messy. Faded down the sides. Top is longer, though sometimes sticks up at odd angles. Usually lays flat.
Eye Color: Emerald Green
Physique: Lean, Muscled from his time on the streets spent running and training. Not very much food, so not much fat on his body.
Appearance: Similar to other mechanics, he wears a toolbelt. However, the belt itself is moreso useless when he pulls out his wrench, which is an all in one tool that he designed himself. Atop his crimson hair sit a pair of goggles, with a dial on the side of the lenses. The dial is not marked, though inside, an electronic display changes the type of vision, so that he can see in different spectrums. His face is occasionally dirty from motor oil, and grease, though the green eyes that shine out like emeralds tend to distract from that. Arguably the most notable feature about him are his eyes. His cheekbones are high, and his eyes are sharp, eyebrows trimmed. He has no tattoos, instead sporting a crisscross patchwork of scars from his time on the streets. From the tops of his hands, which are long, nimble things, to his broad shoulders, down his back, and to his feet, are pieces of technology that are around a dollar coin's length long, and a knuckle's width high, making it sometimes hard to hide. He wears a baggy hoodie to counter that, however, and one would not be able to tell, from the black combat boots he wears, due to working with machinery. His jeans are normal, blackened with soot, the odd bump or two as they were closer to skin than his hoodie. The Exosuit is a product of medical enhancement to his skeletal structure after he was hit by a car as a kid, and links directly into his central nervous system, giving him timely control over it. His bones have healed just fine, so he doesn't exactly need the exosuit, but he kept it after seeing the bonuses of having it, if he was being a mechanic. Crafted out of titanium, it is rigid, and offers good protection from weapons..though blows from weapons would also damage the housing for the electrical systems within.

Weapons:
If one could call his wrench a weapon, that would be one. The only part of the wrench that is actually a wrench would be the body, which is metal, regular stainless steel, overlaid with several buttons at the top. At the top seems to be a regular wrench, except exceptionally larger, requiring two hands to be used normally. The button that unlocks the functions of the wrench is keyed to his DNA, designed from older electronics by his own hands. When pressed, the top unfolds, revealing a series of small plates, metal spheres attached to the back of them, connected to smaller, spiderlike arms extending back to a rotating sphere of metal. The arms themselves have several gears, suggesting a system inside of the smaller arms themselves to apply pressure. Along the backside of the body of the 'wrench' is a small globe that allows his deft fingers to loosen the bits by manipulating each of the plates to push on the edges of the wrench that needs to be removed, interlock, and then turn, to unscrew it. These can also go along the inside, as he can scroll up on the globe to move the plates inwards, and then rotate it clockwise, to flip the plates. You would think that there would be too many plates for such an action, but you would be wrong, as the plates can be individually selected and moved as needed. The second button is not actually a button, on the front, but is merely a touchscreen requiring him to tap a certain number of times before the mode comes into play. Too many, or too little, and a shock accompanies it. None except him know the combination, as his finger is simply too fast for most to follow on the screen. If one got it right, however, they would see the back end of the 'wrench' open, to produce a wicked looking stun phaser. Knicked out of a police officer's hand, he had taken out the parts and placed them into the wrench, for protection around the harsher parts of town, or when he got shadier customers.

He also has designed a few guns with the parts he could find, or afford, the most prominent being one that operates off of laser-based technology, capable of burning through steel or humans alike, due to the concentration and power of the beam, up close. He calls this weapon "Flare", because of the light produced. He can make it work in short bursts, but the potency is still more than used on starships, so he has kept it mostly to himself.

He has modified many regular guns as well, and keeps a good store of them in the basement of his mechanic store, behind a sophisticated holographic wall, that seems realistic. And, even if one were to get through it, they would have to disable the laser wall.

Abilities: Due to augmentations, superhuman strength, speed, and enhanced sight with his goggles. He can also visualize his designs, how they will work, and the parts and math needed, all in front of him, floating suspended. It makes him look rather...mad, at times.
@Arya10108909

Perfectly alright!
@Blueflame

Gotcha. Just asking, making sure you were aware. That was going to be somewhat of my next move.
@Blueflame

Question. Does your char know that Will currently can severely wound him with Holy fire?
@Arya10108909@Blueflame@Letmehaveone2

...Did the Vampire think he was an idiot?

As soon as the Vampire touched his wings with her fangs, a plume of fire would shoot into her open mouth, hot enough to scorch her fangs and burn the inside of her mouth. The product of the fire being drawn into his veins. The Nephalem then, as the fire raced for her, retracted his wings, using his superhuman speed. His open hand, snapping up, and closing around Vivianne's throat. Holding her up with a strength that could only be described as super, his flaming eyes stared at both her and her two...companions.

"If either of you move, she dies." He said, his voice calm.
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