Sync

BLEAK

Happy New Years, guys. Hope you spent it well.

BLEAK

Oh damn, that's pretty awesome!

Also I have to agree. Great work on the posts guys, they're highly entertaining.

BLEAK

Korvo Granetti

HELSTON OUTSKIRTS ▎ FRIDAY ▎ 26 OCTOBER

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Much to his concerns, her words vibrantly reflected his expectations. Yet, behind the detailing of her visage, now hid under the cloth of her scarf, a smile painted itself on the contours of her eyes. The iris displaying the irony and sarcasm of the final statement, or perhaps the lack of thereof. A chuckle brewed out of Korvo... 'But, at least the sun is shining.' Perhaps in slight disbelief or maybe due to how everything seemed so colorless beyond them. Men quivered in their boots, while others gripped their rifled close to their chest. And yet, it was refreshing to know someone held close to their selves. "Nice and bright." Soon after their little exchange, a myriad of faces peered out of their scopes. All of which were oddities themselves. A man who needlessly blared out into the distance of the fray, without much cause of pause he merely allowed the world to beckon at his attention. A cross of the arms, and a deep stare. Korvo did not do much after such, but certainly shifted his view to a slightly familiar visage of a red-haired individual. One of Venito's close contacts or more so, one of the people who Venito owns. Korvo knew only a bit about this kid, but not much to actually strike a conversation. Next to him was a woman of blonde, noticeably different to the male in both aspect and aura. Her mien stapled her lips into a straight line, her brows shaped a grimace toward the myriad. Seemed she wasn't so friendly, but then again, Korvo didn't expect anyone to be as such. Much to the other distance was a youth, perhaps even younger than most. Although fairly tall, his features were an canvas where youth still sprang true. Not much to be said, as this stranger whom Korvo had just interacted with invited him to join her on the vehicle. He agreed, and so the two set forth towards their destination alongside the others who boarded with them.

Perhaps the road paved time for thought, his mind began to drift to the palms of his hands, witnessing the delicacy of his fingers open and close in attempts to grasp a wavering memory. It's been awhile, and some part of him senses a shred of anxiety crawl down his spine in a cold sweat. The heat of the day's sun etched itself on the heat of his arms and he could sense a power, long forgotten, cycle with each beat of the heart. His breath felt constricted, yet there wasn't a moment where any of this felt foreign. This invitation, this moments felt right. Steadiness was key; experience was the guiding map to victory. My feet are strong and able, my hands are sturdy, and the scars are the testament of a past I rather keep behind me. An explosion followed by a sudden stop, the world began to shift before them. Korvo along with the other soldiers rushed off their vehicle to be met with a chaos wrought by creature foreign to him. The bullets flew, screams and blood began to paint the scenery and not before long. The young man, released a breath and pulled out his pistol. Without much time to worry, it was time to settle the score before sun down. His feet propelled him onto the fray beyond the myriad. Every step with prejudice and flair. The quadrupeds where in the many, and would soon overrun their forces. To keep them busy they said, so be it!

~*~
_{"-Remember now, kid. You have to grab your victory's by the balls. It's never easy and there's bitch to pay. Be relentless, for once! Show 'em hell before they do the same to you!}

There's was a sudden sense of realization to Korvo, perhaps it was due to the thought that Venito's voice was the once that pierced through, but more over-- The distance has shortened before himself and the quadruped. It was quick, but predictable. His hand pulled on the knife and with a duck the creature's swing, broad and merciless was brought to a miss. Quick, without pause grasp the extended limb and sustain its weight with your own, pull the knife and stab its most volatile section. A stab to its skull and a screech followed. With his own force, he slammed the body onto the ground and followed up with another stab to the joints that connected shoulder and arm. Disabled, stomping it before it laid motionless on the soil, its brother followed suit. Almost coordinated in their approached. His helmet began to mark the targets before him, the once cyan texts now shifted to blaring crimson. His breath finally released, the pounce was incoming, Korvo invited such and grasped it on flight, the other slashed its brothers back unable to relent after the command was ushered. One gunshot, another and a third were heard at the behest of Korvo's hand. His gun centered at the monster's core before flinging him to the distance, and following suit with the other.

A step forwards and he could sense the energy begin to circle at the center of his core. Like a spiral it began to surface and culminate in the essence of all that surrounded him. Like if the world’s energy itself blessed him with strength. Every single step held purpose, every single movement and kill was calculated. But even so, there was something that kept Korvo focused, it was more than just sustaining this urge to replenish and hold whatever it was that boiled up in his blood. His soul screamed for a push. It’s been awhile, yes. But this feeling still remained fresh. A monstrosity began to shift between the people and tentacles protruded from his chest. Bipedal and swift, Korvo had a difficult time following it, his was larger by a considerable amount to the others, and he was ahead and witnessing it in it full glory. A couple of shots were directed towards it, but it seemed immune to any of such. Its gaping mouth ripping through flesh, blood trailing through its body, devouring men and woman alike without any evidence of a pause.

Korvo gritted his teeth as his gun ran out of bullets way before he realized any of them did any effect, with a leap it utilized its surrounding to gain inertia and rocket itself towards Korvo. The blares on his helmet indicated danger; he rolled towards the side to be met with an eruption of power landing next to him. The young fighter witnessing its height in all its glory and its massive strength, it pulled its hands and swung a second time without pause, a third and a forth. A duck, a twist and a push and Korvo managed to avoid most of it, until one of its tendrils wrapped along his leg and cause him to fall. It came close, closer than ever before. It’s menacing glare, its intimidating nature… A grit of the teeth and the roar of his soul exposed itself. A pulse, began to embellish his sense of creation and power became malleable on his finger tips. His feet traced the earth beneath his feet, a stand and his arms trust forward and open. A final defining swing and another eruption permeated in place, dust clouds began to surface in its wake but now Korvo, surrounded by a spherical barrier of power. Illuminated by the strength which permeated through his finger tips onto creation. Korvo demonstrated his Aeon powers without hesitation.

“…”

Releasing the barrier his feet kicked the earth under his heel to summon four pillar of stone floating above the head of the creature before all coming down in a hurl and slamming themselves in attempt to hit it. However, it displayed its earlier speed once more, noting that such would require more to even hurt it. However the gap has increased between the two now. A crack of the neck, before Korvo extended his hand and closed his palm, with the exception those index and ring fingers were extended. His arm began to swivel back and forth in a pattern, a light soon crackling into creation lead it to form a light that held no control. Lightning, power of the storm at his finger tips, his hands traced before him horizontally, a number of quadrupeds now lining behind its leader, before set finger punctured his gun and energy flowed into its metal.

One shot was enough again, the bipedal alien avoided with much trouble, but the others were swallowed in a small sphere which soon eviscerated them in it clutches. Lightning bolts surfacing briefly from within…

“What happened? Afraid of the light?”

BLEAK

Oh right one question, I suppose. Are all Aeon able to manipulate multiple elements or are we only able to use one?

BLEAK

Happy holidays, guys. Hope you guys spend it well.

Also, yeah I enjoy the pacing we're delivering on the story. It gives me time to think on how I want to present Korvo's narrative.

BLEAK

Korvo Granetti

HELSTON OUTSKIRTS ▎ FRIDAY ▎ 26 OCTOBER

Interaction: @Prisk

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Survival was the first tactic. There were many object on the home, upon the dust and debris were remnants of unuse and destruction... The creeks of the door, the tumble of the knob even to the color of the walls were all condemned to wear and tear. Rust upon zinc ceiling and noted signs of entry could be sought with the footprints and broken glass. An unlocked home is an invitation, of course, to all of those who trail the streets with prying eyes. Intuition was the blend of such tactic. A ransacked home becomes territory of the world. It losses all purpose of value, the home is composed of objects and people and without the objects such functionality is lost, yet what thrives upon a home are the souls upon them. And so, the welcoming nature of Korvo's home was but a simple ruse to invite intrigue and much to their demise, to find disappointment. Korvo's home had not a thing of value, the lights were inoperable, the distant a droplet hitting bouncing onto a liquid surface continuously surface among silence. Cunning was the result of tactic, his foot continued down a muddied hall. And a bulb of light shone from the side of his helmet, upon reaching a room the door was twisted, torn and broken. But it would be too much to say that this was a means done by strangers, no... of course not. His hands traced upon the pad on wrist. Soon a light shone which enveloped the room and a small compartment on the outer wall facing away from the entrance. There, an automated voice welcomed the youth upon the screen on the inner helm, before the reveal of his weapons and armor were upon full display. A building, destroyed holds no value to those who have all. Therefore this mess, this chaos was intentional. To avert the eyes of the myriad, to avoid the eyes of thieves of both livelihood and goods. His home was a garage, nothing more, nothing less. The compartment was small, only Korvo could fit and shift from one side to the next. First was the protective gear.

The knee pads and boots demonstrated signs of use. The distinctive scratches enveloped its designed and told the story of battle. Perhaps he ran across a mountainous region and fell, or a foe bested his defenses and managed to connect on them. The breast plate, as it would, was one more commonly seen upon militarized personnel. It was rather simpler however, perhaps it wasn't as protective as well. However it enabled movement, it allowed for ease on the joints and core. Getting it on was not the problem, but righting its tightness was. Perhaps he has gained much more pass on the passing months, or maybe even lost a few. The weapons, a single brief case that was at the end of the small compartment. Standardized pistol and combat knife. Not much to go on, a couple of ammo stocks for the road. He didn't know the danger of the situation but similarly he wouldn't underestimate. Sign of such would leave to quick death, and much more to a death of other people. Korvo assumed he wouldn't be on this alone, of course he wouldn't. The alarm was sent, much would rush for the opportunity... and the credits. And finally, a hooded shawls. Nicely kept and black, nothing fancy at all. Simply to add to his mystery. In a world where everything is so over exposed, keeping a secret held much value. And he didn't feel the need to expose much of himself.

Preparations were as complete as they could be. The compartment closed and the youth was met with the other half of a destroyed home, removing the bed, he took the cellar to the outside, hiding his pace from any who would attempt to follow. Finding himself to the world, the helmet gave the signs of the compartment door closing. A sigh, a look upon the sky and a long walk to the destination. Perhaps getting a ride would be the next thing he would do, provided the credit were enough.

Time slipped through his fingers, and Korvo found that there was transport. A small bus ride allowed him and other members of Helston to arrive. But the visage of everything seemed grim. People were scouring and trembling in their boots. Other ran on the other direction and already signs of blood and death permeated the seams. What had happened? Korvo pressed his fingers on the side of the helmet; nothing of use was posted on the notice boards or anything of the like. Something was terribly odd, different. A myriad of possibilities began to surface, but the best option that would resolve his query was to ask an official. Seemingly, he wasn't alone in such a thought. Before long he began to search of a captain a lieutenant or someone in charge. To no avail, the sounds of men and women in distraught and the insipid chatter continuously began to plague the area. Korvo figured, they were bait at this junction. "Sergeant?"

A faint chatter, not so distant caught his ear. A youth spoke to a man who fidgeted on his step, he couldn't make out the details and so he pursued him, to realize he had made his way beyond the perimeter. "Hey, wait!" Korvo attempted to reach him, and only found himself standing next to the young woman who was previously speaking to the man. A nod, and a turn, not all was lost on this moment. A better look on her features, although much of what Korvo interpreted was seemingly the eyes. They held a softness to them, peculiarly so. Shoulder length hair, and a complexion which soothed the flair of her cheeks. "Did he say anything? About the situation we have?"

BLEAK

^ I second it.

Everything's good so far tho. Been entertained Smash Ultimate, so I don't mind the wait at all.

Dawne | A Japanese School Life RP

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The morning dew lit the pastures on subtle rays of shimmering day light. There's a symphony of bird welcoming the start of the with songs amd chirps lifting up the spirits to undertake the day. That being said, perhaps these tune herald better muse in the ears of another, but Nagaharo Junji was one that woke at the blare of a loud and uncomfortable alarm. The heaviness of his body urged him to stay at the comfort of his bed, an ache that form a groan as he banged the able once to halt the faulty alarm clock to halt. The damned thing was already broken beyond repair, the vibrations of the hit was enough to silence it indefinitely. Or so he thought before the alarm gave out yet another scream, seemingly much louder than before. "Fine! I'm up, I'm up!" Naga had no other option but to remove the sheets of himself and unplug it from the wall before it continued to become a nuisance any longer. A long, exaggerated stretch ushered his muscle to loosen up. His mother and father had already left and there in the kitchen was the eggs and toast with a note that said "Morning! Don't forget to close everything after going to school. xoxo mom." Naga paid no never-mind to what it said since the structure to this is always the same. A greeting, command, and the infamous x's and o's. Morning routine went like always, meaning that today was a day much like any other. But something was... terribly off. Nagaharo didn't say anything about joining dad today, and neither did mom say anything about--

"Today's the first day!" Suddenly the rush of morning felt a lot more pressurizing. Soon he had to finish breakfast and get dressed appropriately after carefully ironing his clothes and picking them out a month ago before the semester started. It was already getting a bit small, seems he had grown a couple of inches during the break. A flick of his tongue depicted his frustration, but more over than anything he wanted to ride his bike to the start of the year. He wasn't particularly excited, but it was something different from the everyday life and monotony of this place. At least he could hurry up and hang out with people his age! He hoped... Picking up his bike and striding towards the school, he needed to be at least considerably early. Teacher already say he looks like a delinquent, he shouldn't start acting like one too.

BLEAK

Korvo Granetti

HELSTON ▎ FRIDAY ▎ 26 OCTOBER

_{--I remember now. We held hands under the cherry blossoms once. At that juncture I didn't know what to think, but your eyes captivated something special. At that moment, it felt as if I truly saw the stars for the first time.}

The dimness of morning wasn't what woke him to straddle himself once more to his work. Hands crossed and head tumbling on the weight of his helmet, the annals of a bitter-sweet dream lingered on the back of his eyelids. He fell asleep again on the seat. Eyes trailed to nowhere before realizing how early it has been. Hands attempted to message the eyes, but were met with the surface of his helmet. Slowly pulling back, he witnessed his palm shiver, not due to the chilly winds of the morning's air, but due to something else. Half of the cup of noodles sat before him. He went to sleep on a half empty stomach. An almost silent sigh, his shoulders slumped a bit. Mind began to regain full consciousness... The memory of a dream began to surface at the canvas of his palm, it was hazy, unclear and details began to shift. But he remembered a tree, a cherry blossom, perhaps or was it a Magnolia? But there was something that didn't escape him and it was those eyes. A light in the dark, a star in the night. A slow form of the hand to a grip, almost as if crushing the thought on his grasp. A metaphorical gesture to force him to continue on with his time. Tracing his fingers to his wrist, a pad began to surface its widgets. A couple of clicks before the time and date were displayed on the LED in his helmet. 5:03 A.M. It was already ingrained in him, before the alarm the helmet gave out; Korvo had already finished his routine. Venito is nowhere to be seen, but more the reason to leave the home. If it garnered a mean look to come in announced, it was worse to stay unrequited. The October winds sent a chilling air down his spine, he wasn't home and he didn't feel the need to return anytime today, either. He would just go to the site and download the schematics of the latest project, and start melding the pieces. Melding was the worst process, and he could use the extra hours after last night's pay. And so as such was what much of the morning composed of for Korvo. The sweat that bothered him like every other day peered itself on work hours, the temperatures for the melding room were like a hot day on the center of a volcano. Hazmat suits were used to prevent scalding and radioactivity. The laser needed to use a peculiar power-cell that leaked out upon noticed wear and tear. This one is old and functional, but it's three years due for changing. However, these cells are expensive and a parsimonious boss couldn't see the difference between the dangers and the whole it would create in his pockets if some would to contract radiation. As such, only a handful of employees have access to these terminals in these rooms. Korvo's helmet had to undergo several upgrades for such too.

And so, slowly, but surely more and more men gathered to witnessed the shelves and bolts were already finished before 7:00 A.M. "Tank, no doubt. Already up, like always. Well, no horsing around, boys. Get your asses to building!" Much of the morning was spent melding the necessary items into form, shaping them into creation with duteous precision. Before this old, hunched bearded man. Eyes of cornflower blue and wrinkled to no end patted his shoulder. "Morning, Tank."

"Grandpa, morning." The man's hazmat hid much of his features, the only other that would appear at this hour to meld alongside his co-worker. They call his grandpa, due to the many years he has given to the company. He has seen many come and go on is time, and has been made rather cynical due to age. However, being Korvo's trainer the young adult has manifested some type of patience for the old coot. "Ya got up bright an' early as always. How far in are ya at with the blueprint parts?" Korvo didn't pay much head to what the elder was doing behind his back; the sounds typing were faint due to the lazer's screams. "For the first it should be about done by the next hour. I programmed the rest of the machines to start on the other projects already, but one of them is leaking. I placed it under restriction and decided to unplug the thing entirely. We need the power-cell." Grandpa sighs, Korvo leaves the rest up to him, convincing the boss would take initiative and gumption, but it the old man would take the dive if needed be.

"Best join me then." Korvo nodded, and so this was the procedure until sometime in the afternoon, lacking the notion of time, Korvo had already made it into the work showers. He was given the rest of the day, and although he would prefer the extra credits, he was also rather tired. Tomorrow was the Luna Hail.. He'd probably spend it working, and Sunday was the Festival of the Quiet... What would he do? He took a long glance at his arms, noting the snake tattoo which adorned the many scars which embellished his skin. A time where he could try out for peace, but neither Sybil nor Ashwin were going to make it this time. Many of the employees would go with their families, and much others would probably spend it with each other. But Korvo on the other hand... He didn't-- A tremor woke his sense up, a shiver under his heels and a sight of luminescence peered just outside the ceiling windows. Another attack? No, it was too subtle and the resounding explosion was too tame. The siren would make its blare soon. Finishing, Korvo decided to participate now that he had the rest of the day with him. Placing his helmet once more, the sounds of booting began to register on his ears, the oh so familiar teal color text responding to his retinas, a clean welcome screen peered in an instant before demonstrating the scenery before him. He would go home now, and retrieve his things. The notice has been sent, it was time to head out to the location.

BLEAK

Korvo

_{Korvo Granetti
◄ AGE: 25 ▎ MALE ▎ HEIGHT: 6'1 ►}

_{P R E S E N C E}

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Korvo’s attire consists of a hooded shawl of khaki color, his clothes hid under such which need no extensive detailing as they exist for simple functionality. His pants are ragged and patched due to hard labor, boots up to his calves and button up checkered shirt that has seen better days. The most prominent feature of such would be his helmet that doubles as his mask. Of similar simplistic design, with running neon light on the side displaying it full working capacity. Quite resistant to heavy objects as his work as a construction worker demands such of it’s employees. Korvo is subtle, rather speak only when spoken to and is shy to some extent. He has a rather understanding personality of others issues, but being raised upon unfortunate circumstances has left Korvo to paths and decision he’s not unwilling to make.

A rather soft soul, however. Very little if not, none have seen his appearance under the mask since he was in his late teens. It’s must’ve happen sometime when-- Nevermind. Korvo seems to realize his position in the world, and as such he is reserved and lenient. Some don’t live up to greatness, Korvo is one of those. He exist to struggle and overcome, but with such ‘strength’ a weakness bore too. A lack of dependence of others.

He’s tall, of muscular physique, hands riddled with calluses and scars from working the fields and construction. From such you have a view of the color of skin that a soft colored natural tan. A tattoo up his sleeve of a snake coiling up the forearm.

_{C H R O N I C L E}

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I haven't known peace. The landscape known as the net is a minefield, treading upon it seems almost impossible. Nothing but crux's of false information and propaganda, more about the residing factions but naught can't be trusted. Anything outside of that is all but prayers to our Aesir. There isn't a place where I can speak without being heard, or even think without being watched. Everything is done under the guise of secrecy, and yet everything is being monitored with precision. From the moment I close my eyes to rest, to when I wake up to go to work. Every secular instant I have to show and demonstrate a sense of direction. I've never known anything else. Every payday I see a declining fair of credits, guess today's not enough to fill my stomach either. Perhaps I should've attempted more, maybe tried out for something different. I'm stuck at this interval in my life, and I can't seem to rummage out of it. I've never known anything but poverty, and opportunities slip out of my grasps constantly. "Hey, kid. You're holding up the line."

Stammering, I glance at the man whose grimace had been growing intense. I gave a final stare at the screen, the visuals displaying my 'wealth' before me, a sigh escapes me. I close the windows, I don't retrieve anything from it. "Sorry." That is the only thing that mumbles out of my breath. My step is slow, littered with the weight of my thoughts like pulling on a ball and chain. It hasn't gotten better since the fracture. Maybe it's worse than anticipated. My stomach growls and roars, nothing to do now but to put my hand upon it and wait for it to settle. Almost like a drunk leaving a bar after a night full of disappointments, my trail seems to lead me nowhere. Rumors has it that, once, men and woman could parade the streets of their towns blissfully unaware of their own existence, their world. That mortality was something of a privilege, and smiles would litter their faces. My work is a testament of a hierarchy, a construction worker. The calluses of my hands are their own history, the stories I've built and the homes I've forged are all that separates me from a common man. But my job is no better than that of a janitor, I provide and home many, yet I am unsung in the channels of legend. It's not exceptionally great work. Perhaps the melding is the worse part. Every day, every week, ever passing moment I know no peace.

A bothersome sweat runs through my forehead, yet I cannot do anything about it due to the mask. I will not take it off to sooth it. Although the stars of night might glimmer a path to some, they are but adornments upon a shifty night. The smell permeates through the mask, the toxicity of the air, the smell of everyday. I run my fingers through my pockets, nothing but lint and dust. Perhaps even from the work of today. They flee from my grasp and fall upon soil. I find myself lost, searching for hope in the small town of my home, Helston. The side of my lip extends instinctively. A sigh escapes me, a bodily function at this point. I cross my arms and decide to step home, after my delivery. The journey doesn't take me long, my feet are strong and able, my hands are sturdy, and the scars are the testament of a life I rather keep behind me. The door is what bars my path between now and the inside. I hesitate... although my hand is outstretched, the finger do not curl upon the knob. I instead, knock. Once, twice, three time in conjunction. A thud, a hop and a lead, rummaging could be heard from the other side, something was making a racket or perhaps better yet, something was escaping. Not before long, something slid on the door. Eyes peered out to witness the masked man in the entry staring back with almost intimidating silence. "Korvo..."

The tone felt forced, oozed of disgust and annoyance. There was nothing beyond his sight that could be perceived, but this youth known as Korvo could tell, that his face had soured incomprehensibly. "I hope, for your sake, that this is worth my time." Korvo remained silent, but pulled back waiting for the doors to open. A few clanks and click and a woman comes out first, fixing her jet black hair and tilting it to a side. Finger functioning as a brush with them tracing across her locks. We exchange a glance and she smiles. I remain focus, on the man of large statue cigar on hand and, as expected grimace on mien. "Well, what are ye waiting for piss-ant!? Hurry up and get the fuck in." Demanding, as always. This was Venito however, his tones never shifted beyond anger and screams. I follow, the inside is about as seemingly as a graveyard, although the lights illuminates the room on dark velvet, the man waste no time to get to the point. "What do ye want."

"A place to stay."

"Blimey little prick, I told ye if you came 'ere to waste me time I would fuck you up so hard, ye'd wish ye mother would've swallowed." He point with his cigar, the ashes drop on my shoe and I can feel the heat and smoke through the filters of the mask. "Take that shit off ye head." Korvo remains silent, the man makes and abrupt swing, Korvo winces but Venito stops halfway. A laugh escapes him, his grimace ever so present however. "There's a can of soup in the fridge, you so as much touch anything else I'll hang ya by your balls." Korvo nods, of course. Korvo needed to act the weaker man, my feet are strong and able, my hands are sturdy, and the scars are the testament of a life I rather keep behind me. "I'll use the bathroom first."

"Whatever!"

Hands now doused on running water. He was tired, so much so the heaves began to escape his lungs. A cough followed by another, reaching to the mask, the metal and glass which hid his features, the tremble of his fingers which became tremors once they met the steel. Such was less of a mask and more of a helmet designed under cheap components. The seal which would pry the locks open stood inches away from his fingers, the gloss fo black that shielded his features, no lids of any kind, no pupils to allow any sort of contact to his visage. He was hidden entirely under the safety of his helmet. He pulled away and kept it on, he wouldn’t take it off. He exited and headed straight unto the kitchen, pressed a button on wrist which exposed his mouth, eating the cold can of soup with an attempt to satiate his hunger. It wasn’t much… but for Venito, it was appreciated.

_{M E M O R I E S}

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Venito Lambardi: It's hard to say the relationship he and Korvo have. They aren't related by blood and most of the time it seems that he thinks of Korvo as a lost cause. He is a disgusting role model, a short tempered, foul mouthed and perverse individual with no redeeming qualities. Korvo doesn't seem to mind his games, and his attitude too much. Venito has never been an easy man to deal with and much less one to be around with. But when you've been through so much it's hard to judge a man who's simply has an attitude problem. Venito is no saint, but he's help Korvo in a time of need and that's enough to win him some trust.

Ashwin Bernard Rhodes: His colleague from a past work and childhood friend. Polar opposite of Korvo, much like day and night. His upbringing was much better than Korvo’s and holds a important position in a medical facility. Always interested in what Korvo’s doing, though as the years gone by they’ve encountered only distance. He and his younger sister seem to be very close. The most prominent memory that they have together was when they were both twelve years of age, when Korvo stole a baseball for his birthday because he didn't have to money to buy one.

Sybil Juno Rhodes: Younger sister and apprentice doctor at the facility her brother commands. Very intelligent young lady, with equally short temper. She grew up rather stuck up and snobby, but managed to settle down with age. She’s very close to her brother, so much so that she decide to take similar routes in the area of study. Disappointed with Korvo for choosing a life of mediocrity, however she has come to terms if so ever so slightly with it. Korvo once played the piano on her birthday... After getting scolded he decided it would be better this way than to steal again.