Fandom Soul Eater: F.A.T.E

[Merciless Medic]

Sara Middleton & Noah Wiley​

Location: Lot C, Forest Edge
Interactions: Gauss ( Sir Les Paul ), Zosar ( The Regal Rper ), MYSTERY MAN
Mentions: Zari ( Prizzy Kriyze ), Athena
Currently Within Line of Sight: Prudence ( Mqueserasera ), Kasper ( Phayne )

Sara, who had Noah behind her in her hand, rushed headlong towards the clearing within the lot. However, she stopped short of the edge of the forest, feeling that nagging tug in her mind. It was a very similar tug from when she and Noah would argue while resonating. Closing her eyes, she took a moment to assess herself and that of her resonated partner, wanting to see if he was okay. In her mind's eye and that of her soul, beside her, there was Noah. His balled-up hands were shaking, knuckles turned white, teeth gritted, and his eyes were shadowed by the bangs of his unkempt hair as he looked down.

Noah? Her voice was quiet. Soft. She can just feel the roiling waves of anger through her body as it emanated from her partner.

Noah, without looking at her, growled through gritted teeth. Sara... I need to punch somethin'. I need to fight, get it all out. I just... I'm too upset.

Yeah, I can feel that.

Opening her eyes and regaining her sense of reality, Sara skirted through the forest's edge, trying to get all the way down the field so she can get a better view of where everyone else was at. Turning on her olfactory soul perception, she was met with the same scents, however they were intermixed with anger and frustration. Sara could smell something else though. She could feel it, tugging at her soul and pulling her nose along.

Why did she smell Zosar? Was he in trouble?

Charging through the trees in a blur, she stayed within the cover of the forest, coming upon the scent of the others she missed. Looking up in the tree, there was Zari and Athena. The two were watching Zosar and the other fellow from earlier fighting.

Fighting.

Maybe she should wait. Wait until they were done.

She had just arrived to smell Zosar’s soul flaring and her head was filled with his scent. It was thrilling, yet it was making the smell of blood far worse as it made her nose curl. He was circling the rich boy, shuffling closer…

No, she couldn't sit idly by. Her body was shaking from the tension of the area. She needed to move, to gather information, to see up close what was going on. As she got close - sneaking through the foliage and keeping a bit of distance to keep herself from being noticed, the full strength of his bloodied soul shot through her nose, forcing her to hide behind a tree as she gritted her teeth and took a knee.

The animal inside of her skull clawed its way into the forefront of her mind. It felt like scratches on a chalkboard, her ears pinned back from the mental noise. The soul scent of blood made her nose crinkle and bare her teeth in the cover of the forest floor's foliage. She covered her nose with her white jacket's sleeve, her eyes squinting and watering slightly as she focused on anything else but that.

But then Noah, of all people, spoke. His voice sounded like honeyed temptation in her mind. Sara. We should stop 'em. Fuck that man over who’s attacking your new friend. Ya saw how angry he is. Sara looked at the end of her staff with concern. Look, I'm angry, you're smelling blood, I need to beat somethin', ya need to get it out of your system-

"But Noah. I can't. What if I transform?" Sara whispered, tone quivering from uncertainty.

Shut up. Just take a chance. Besides, your friend's gonna be bleedin' from all that metal, ya? Come on, don't ya wanna show how loyal ya are to even just as small as an acquaintance? Are you gonna let him down like a pussy?

To Sara’s vulnerable mind, he was right. While she didn't want to see what else was going on and the fight became a blur in her eyes, she needed to help Zosar. Zosar was her friend, and he was being attacked by this cocky son-of-a-bitch. He needed to be taught a lesson on who not to fuck with. Gripping Noah around the middle tightly, Sara looked up and her vision grew hazy. Seeing the blood drip down Zosar's forehead and that of Gauss' blood drip down his lip made her vision turn red, her wavelength became slower than having its normal jittery pattern.

The last time she felt like this, she was alone, fighting in a cage match against another werewolf. The angry calm that overtook her was something that usually preceded her overwhelmed emotional state as she tried to continue her onslaught without transforming, but she was fine now. She'll prove she doesn't need the collar. Between being upset with Noah, angry at Gauss, and worried for Zosar, Athena, and Zari, she felt the clawing get worse in her mind.

Sara licked her lips. Her teeth ached. Her muscles contracted minutely, flexing on and off as she stared straight at Gauss with wide, predatory eyes. A sick grin awkwardly played on her face as she stalked around, flanking Gauss, getting behind him.

He entered a fighting stance after some choice words. Zosar tried to de-escalate. He doesn't want to keep going anymore. So...

Why don't you?

Sara saw how wide his stance was. She can easily trip him up, her mind going into several different ideas at once as she slipped towards him, her body crouched like an animal ready to pounce. She can slip Noah right underneath one knee and swiftly slam him upward, knocking the man upside down if she did so. Or she can go for the cheap shot, slamming him in the junk from below. Or jab into the back of his knees or slam his lower back where the bundle of nerves lay to cripple his lower body's movements temporarily. Or slam his shoulders and send him falling to the ground. Or she can use Noah's electrical ability, maybe even do a resonance attack as she can feel her wavelength's energy amp up, Noah's wavelength catching up with her own as she felt so in tune with him. This was a thrill...

Who knew that anger can bring people together?

With her ears forward as her vision tinted in the red of the liquid she wanted to spill, Sara shot forward, her ears blocking out the sounds of Athena’s cheer and an alarm other than the rush of wind passing by and that of blood pumping through her dilated veins as her eyes were deadset on the man she wanted to teach a lesson to. She didn't want to kill him. But she wanted to break him, beat him into submission, make him cry out for mercy as she tore into him with her teeth. The smell of blood dripping down their skin made her inner animal cry out in want.

Sara and her rage, however, were not fated to meet that day with Gauss. Her half-feral, canine fury was met by a raw burst of speed and a Wavelength unlike any other in the vicinity. A new wavelength. A new scent. One she hadn’t even the time to register. A single, jutting end of a pole laid before her to trip her up while running and a set of deft hands to catch her fall and throw her back onto the field, making her roar and scream like that of an animal from fright and fury. His toss was not like that of a barroom brawl. No. He sent her flying half the distance of the field in one effortless toss, then clapped his hands clean.

"I said enough," the new figure standing between Sara and the two previous combatants said aloud in a calm, cool, yet somehow ruthless tone. "If you want to stay conscious and more importantly in this program, you will follow my instructions the first time I give them," he added, in the same near-monotonous tone.

Sara’s mind blanked when she suddenly felt her feet lose feeling of the grass under her and a sudden weightlessness overtaking her entire body. She barely registered what was going on until the red haze filtered out of her vision and she found herself soaring through the air, her ears picking up the man’s words after he threw her. She was thrown into the middle of the field, nonetheless. Yet, she didn’t panic. Twisting her body with the dexterity to match her raw power, she rotated from a spinning horizontal position to then becoming upside down, her body facing the direction she was flying towards. Gripping to Noah tightly, she smashed him on the ground, his staff body bending as the force immediately sent her somersaulting in the air, her body curled as she bounced further away from the group. She landed on her feet, her knee and hand digging into the ground as she held Noah away from her in her other hand as she slid back, nearly reaching the other side of the field's width.

That fool…

However, her anger did not stay as she felt a prick in her neck. Groaning and scratching at her neck, she dropped Noah, who transformed back to normal and grabbed Sara by the shoulders as she started to lose her footing. Sara shook her head and blinked frantically, trying to get back the feeling of power that once ran through her muscles and veins, but the sedation was putting her muscles to jelly. Satisfaction, gone.

A sudden shock stung her neck, forcing her to back down as her heart pumped faster to get herself ready to fight again. The werewolf within her wanted more, why wasn’t she able to have what she wanted? Once again though, Noah spoke up. This time, he was soothing, calming, his voice not the honeypot it was earlier but stern. "Sara, don’t do this."

With those words, Sara growled and huffed, stepping away a little as her face melted to one of relaxation from her angry scowl as the sedatives took hold.

But now, the anxiety whittled away at her. What did she do? Did she miss something? Noah however, realized what really happened. To keep her away from the issues, he gripped her from around her waist, putting her arm around his shoulders, and walked with her to a nearby tree. Conveniently, nearby Kasper and Prudence, where Sara had to turn off her olfactory soul senses so as to relax and calm her paranoia-addled mind. She was terrified that she was going to get kicked out for something she didn’t know was wrong. The collar let loose short, tiny bursts of electricity at set intervals until her heart rate settled, her fingers scratching at her neck like she was passively aggressively asking for it to be taken off. Her eyes stared wide-eyed at the ground, leaving Noah to sit with her and pat her on the head, scratching her behind her ears to calm her as he focused on the man who threw her.

That man was terrifying in his own right.

 

[QuirkyAngel]

Jarvis Briseis - DWMA, Lot C

Jarvis tilted his head. You? Did the girl mean to tell him to find the goal by himself and that she would offer her half to be connected afterwards? Jarvis scrutinized the human who hadn’t even bothered to turn around and face him. The one who seemed adamant about keeping her half of the ball to herself until the goal was found. Then he shrugged.

Straightening from his crouch, Jarvis de-transformed one of his clawed, gauntlet-hands and slipped it into the pocket of his jacket. His other hand remained transformed, wires of blood extending from finger tips to secure the wooden object to his dark palm, but otherwise wasn’t much use in a fight—not unless he fancied the ball-half taken from him, of course.

Maybe he ought to hide the ball-half, after all.

“Whatever,” Cracking his neck, the 33-year-old bloodsucker sighed. “Did you see who got the goal in the end ‘cause I sure as hell didn’t.”

He’d been busy dealing with a resonating werewolf and flashbang of magical lights at the time. Both boys seemed to match each other in speed…but the tattooed guy seemed slightly faster. Fast and strong enough to knock the goal down at least. Weapons could fight on their own if trained. Of that, Jarvis had no doubt. All of Lord Death’s Deathscythes could fight on their own if necessary. That was the goal he aspired to. Allies were useful to be sure…meant he wouldn’t have to as much work…but not strictly necessary as Sara had pointed out.

Spikes seemed to do well enough on his own.

Red-eyed phone boy landed on his feet despite being thrown by Blondie.

Jarvis hadn’t seen much of a fighter in the Shield girl…but it wasn’t as if he’d given her much of chance to display any physical prowess. DWMA—the EAT portion at least—trained fighters. While the meisters were the ones typically doing the fighting in a Weapon-Meister partnership, underestimating the weapons didn’t seem like a bright idea either. Every person was different. Chain Whip may very well be a skilled martial artist who had mastered her wavelength for all Jarvis knew about her…but he doubted it.

Just as he doubted a weapon could defeat a meister in straight up fight…under normal circumstances. Key word, of course, was normal, but thinking too hard about things gave him a headache.

Tattoo guy it is.

Pivoting around to the trees—since he certainly didn’t see either Spikes or Tattoo the field—Jarvis sighed as he resigned himself to searching the bloody forest for his goal. At least he had shade now. Whether Chain Whip assisted him or not was in consequential. Either she wanted to work together or she didn’t. Either she knew the answers he was looking for or she didn’t. Jarvis would wait to hear her response regarding the goal, but if she didn’t have one, then he’d just move on.

No point in wasting time.

He could hear the other hear where the meister duo were fighting, smell the blood in the air, but the results of their bout mattered little to him. In fact, the longer they fought, the less involved they be in the game…and that was better for him. Cowardly, perhaps, but easier and less effort on his part. He had no interest in learning about the other agents of F.A.T.E…unless it was necessary for whatever reason to achieve his goal. Why would he? It wasn’t as if there were many living meisters out there that could resonate with an undead soul. Jarvis had come to accept that fact. He no longer cared. He’d only applied to the program because Elvira kept pestering him and because he wanted to finish what he’d started 21 years ago.

“Well?” Glancing back at Purple-haired Chain whip, on the off chance that she might save him some time before his departure deeper into the woods, Jarvis licked his dry lips. Damned sun.

But of course, Jarvis knew better than to even consider drinking from any of DWMA’s students without their permission. The collar around his neck was there for a reason, after all. No need to make DWMA trust him even less than they already did…and he wasn’t hungry enough for his fangs to emerge. Not yet anyway. Clenching the blood packet he always kept in his pockets as a snack, just in case, Jarvis waited for her response.

There was no time limit to complete the task as far as he was aware…and it wasn’t like anyone else could score so long as he had the second half of the ball. Therefore there was no point spending a lot of energy to rush either.

Sybil

 

[Sir Les Paul]

March 7th, 2067 | 0927

As Zosar and Gauss exchanged words after their brief duel, the phones of every single individual on the field would chime with another notification identical to the ones previously. Simultaneously, a large floating globe roughly nine foot in diameter revealed itself. This time, a glowing light emerged from it as it broke down. As it broke down, a voice announced:

"That is enough, group A-01." It was loud, but stern tone. Cold. Cathartic. It didn't carry any extraneous tone, just the clear and blunt message being delivered.

If the players were to check the message sent to them, it would reveal a short video clip of Adrian first appearing out of his Iron Maiden form with two ball halves hitting the ground clipping to him sliding them together, then him dropping them through the goal he had fabricated earlier. The only text contained in the image read "Winner: Adrian Hackney" with the video under it. While the light from the floating globe initially seemed to mask two figures, it soon only did so for one as the other seemingly disappeared.

In what might have been a fraction of a moment later, depending on the perceptive abilities and attention of those involved, what appeared to be little more than a blue blur of a humanoid figure darted across the field and tripped up Sara who was on her mad dash to Gauss. This same individual, once catching up, was the one that threw her what appeared to be effortlessly. This was Cyrus. A blue-haired Weapon with bright yellow eyes, a navy vest, and pinstripe shirt standing in the wake of what would have been Sara had she continued. Many of them would know him by appearance alone. Some might not. All of them were now aware by his speed, toss of Sara, and her collapse almost immediately after standing up that he was serious in what he said.

"The match is over. No, Adrian will not be allowed to skip the program. I would applaud his creativity, but to be blunt, the game is only concluding because I don't intend to let you kill yourselves," Cyrus said aloud, providing some explanation to what was going on and insight as to the text they had all received. "One player of note, however, will be Nadia. She at least attempted to communicate with most of you and bring together some type of collective whole. I personally appreciate that," Cyrus added, "So, thank you, Nadia, for the attempt at the very least."

"I am Cyrus, if you are unaware. Personal Death Scythe of the Shinigami and his right hand man. All combat will cease and you will gather around me to listen. Do not make me wait," he instructed, giving no further mention of the floating ball in the air or the outline of a figure on it, now more clearly standing on a platform. A bright light prevented said figure from immediately being viewed.

​

Tags: Britt-21 Merciless Medic Sir Les Paul Phayne Huntertabbysandshark3 EmperorsChosen RedArmyShogun Mqueserasera QuirkyAngel Sybil Prizzy Kriyze Mineczka

 

[RedArmyShogun]

Nadia Semyonov - Location: DWMA Lot C
​

Watching the chaos down below it seemed the wolf was going into a frenzy. How interesting. This may prove worth her time after all, though it was equally possible this could turn into a huge struggle for them all. It was also at this time that Dani had spoken up, requesting for more drink. It would be amusing under normal circumstance, and this was not one of those times. Letting her hands drift to her side, Nadia pushes off from her lean and shakes her head. "Don't be so greedy. I can't have you just drinking the flask. Plus, I think we will be needed soon." Turning her attention back to the field, the two ball holders were together and the ring boys seemed to be spreading out or talking to others, so much happening so quickly as she caught eyes of the wolf girl down below and a cat man arrives, speaking quickly and damning himself.


Grinning at that, she reaches for her knife as he mentioned the camera, then spoke to her about how this all was turning into a mess, but before that he made mention of what he was, made mention of being a vlogger and questioned the car. While she was curious about the last two things, the center of disruption towards her was now clearer. Everyone else was on the field had shown what they were able to do, had been elsewhere, or were resting on this car. He was one of the Monster Cats who were known to have magic and could not perform as a Meister or a Weapon, he had arrived after her and he was not visible in the field.

Pulling her knife she holds it out to glitter in the sun a little as she directly addressed him, with a sideways glance. "You know it is very rude to record people without their knowing. Perhaps best to shut it off, or do I show your viewers how one skins a cat?" As if to challenge him she seemed to have more to say and was parting her lips, but movement caught her eye down in the tree line below. A man with blue hair had shown up suddenly and without warning, expertly grabbing the wolf girl, not with force alone, but positioning and a throw, tossing her into the sky and the ground below before doing something else. Her irritation with the cat forgotten for now.

"Who.."

It was then her phone, and all the rest went off. Bringing it up and fingering the display a video was to play out, or a live feed rather, as she held it up, putting her knife away to focus on the screen. "What the fuck? Hah!" Looking at the fact the boy that had one of the rings had scored himself the win, it didn't matter about the ball halves. She admired his wood carving a little bit, smart, but cheeky, however what got her attention more was the fact he was clearly an Autonomous Weapon. She had noted his earlier exchange but in her own happenings had lacked a detailed view.

She wanted to watch a replay of that, to figure how far his abilities went past being a woodchipper, what his earlier battle had caused or been like, but that could wait, there was more being said and the orb of glowing light. "Razvaluha!" Whatever that meant, she slapped the side of the car and chuckled a bit at the praise to herself. "Heh. At least he has balls. Maybe not such a coward after all." It also seemed the whole game was for nothing, she expected as much but still, sitting back wasn't her style, and it was about sending a message. Though she was worrying if she were falling into her old habits, clenching her jaw at the thought, it was too late to turn against it. She would see what they were made of, maybe herself as well.

Looking once more at those around her and those below, she closes her phone while speaking. "You heard him. Plus, someone seems to be on that ball. Or in? Let's go!" With that Nadia takes off at once, Xander spared from whatever else the woman had mind to say as she quickly falls in line to not keep the possible pair waiting. Unsure and uncaring if her words all across were heard, she was in a bit of a better mood now, thoroughly amused, knife sliding back into it's holster.

Interactions: EmperorsChosen Huntertabbysandshark3 Mineczka / possible Sir Les Paul

 

[Prizzy Kriyze]

Azariah "Zari" Vasher
As the fight was reaching its zenith, a familiar sound reverberated from the nearby area again. Zari didn't take his eyes off of the combatants, but he sensed Noah and Sara moving up through the trees. Strange, the sound was changing. He perked his ears and split his attention, and as their wavelengths slowly rose in volume his eyebrows furrowed. What was happening?

Sara's once friendly and puppy-like aura was being replaced by a violently clawing and growling sound, seemingly galvanized by Noah's now thunderous sparking. What once registered as one of the more stable wavelengths on the field was losing itself to something horrible, and in that moment Zari felt disappointed. No fear, no anger, only sadness and disappointment. They'd seemed so kind to him. He didn't want to see them like this. A whisper so quiet it only reached the two of them and himself spoke of the fear of transforming, whatever that meant, but didn't receive an answer or at least one that could be heard.

He steeled himself and continued to observe as the pair appeared and began circling behind Gauss. It was heavy to witness someone who seemed so intent on good carry themselves like that. All the compassion and complexity behind her eyes was gone, substituted with simple killing intent. Murderous rage. Azariah was familiar. He'd seen it a thousand times before, given it a million times before, and it saddened him. It wasn't good. It wasn't impressive. It was a weakness at best, he knew that now. His knuckles whitened as he filled himself with determination.

There was more than the game going on now. He wanted to help his... well...

His friends.

The goal hoop was left swinging on a branch as Zari slid down, the barest hint of wavelength sparking from him as he did. Sara switched direction and started her sprint towards Gauss, then a thousand things happened at once. Zari felt his feet connect with the ground, and pressed off to launch himself forward; then, as blue light appeared in the field, he could pick up on quiet buzzing in all the nearby student's pockets. Still, in spite of all the new variables, his focus was set on Sara. He didn't want her to do something she'd regret.

Ultimately, it was the quick movement at the edge of his senses that forced him to reconsider. A wavelength dwarfing all the others on the field was approaching, and fast. His eyes tried to catch it's source, but as it neared and he was forced to halt his acceleration there was little time. He threw his hand out and wavelength amplified fingers dug deep into a tree trunk just at the edge of the field, absorbing most of his speed and sending him spinning to a halt. His leading foot kicked into the dirt and he landed in a low crouch, ready to act, but to his surprise it was already over.

Sara was bouncing across the field with the familiar mechanical clicking of an activated incapacitation collar in tow. He cringed at the noise, similar but not the complete same as his own. In her place stood a blue-haired man- no, not quite; a weapon, dusting his hands off and raising his voice. For a moment, Azariah was still ready to pounce, but a single glance at the other combatants told him that this was well and truly over. Cyrus, the Death Scythe, controlled this situation.

He stood from his spot and stayed in place, only a few paces away from the imposing man. Sara's wavelength was reduced back down to a whimper. For a moment silence reigned, and Azariah wasn't about to break it. He only waited, nervously, for the next leg in this journey.

Mentions: Merciless Medic The Regal Rper Sir Les Paul

 

[Sybil]

Adrasteia Chandrice

The weapon intended on working with Jarvis, the likelihood of succeeding together went up after all if they did so. Not only that, but this was also a perfect situation to take him down afterward. His refusal to fight her here and now would be his downfall in her mind… only for her phone to buzz with an alert. Seeing as the only ones who should be messaging her were officials, Adra reached for her phone and took a look…. Only for her teeth to be bared in a grimace. The Iron Maiden Bastard made his own ball and it counted?! She grits her teeth and pitched half of the ball straight into the ground. The game was over, and over the dumbest things in her mind.

“Doesn’t matter now, looks like things are over…. Bullshit…” She stiffened a bit in her shoulders and left the ball there, leaving to go towards the one directing the chaotic crowd now. A death weapon by his statements, this Cyrus had the chain weapon's attention as they made their way over. Cooperating with Jarvis no longer held any reason, so she gave no real further comment.

This group is going to be as annoying as Paean…. I can already feel it…. Fuck….I have not mastered Calm Mind enough for this….

coded by: @s e v e n​

​

Mentions: Sir Les Paul
Interacts: QuirkyAngel​

 

[EmperorsChosen]

Daniella Ethalyn | DWMA Lot C
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
​

"Fantastic." Dani's reply was dripping with sarcasm.

She hadn't expected Nadia to actually serve her seconds. Though, she was just as apathetic as to being "needed". If the first morning of the first day was this much of a shitshow, she wasn't holding her breath for whatever else their proctor had in mind. She especially found the man's comment to be doubtful.

Could've fooled me.

How generous of him to intervene prior to someone losing their head, yet everything that had happened up to the point of Sara preparing to pounce was A-OK. Honestly, Dani didn't care all that much if he did allow everyone to tear each other apart--But then, don't force her to serve as witness. She could have been sleeping instead of spectating all this.

Pulling out her phone as she heard it ping, it determined that the winner was--Who? Someone. Regardless, as was expected, he would not be skipping the program despite his victory.

"No shit..." She murmured to no one in particular. Who honestly thought they were being truthful with that?

As Nadia departed with some excitement, Dani glanced over at Xander, whom had just been threatened by their neighborhood Russian. She narrowed her eyes a bit at the camera, but didn't care too much so long as he didn't try shoving it in her face.

"What Ruskie said," Dani told Xander as she pushed herself off the car and began proceeding leisurely toward the Death Scythe.

Interactions: RedArmyShogun Huntertabbysandshark3 Sir Les Paul
Mentions: Various

 

[QuirkyAngel]

Jarvis Briseis - DWMA, Lot C

The globe appearing in the sky above the center of the field had been the first thing that caught Jarvis’s attention, the bloodsucker turning away from Chain Whip Girl squint up at the bright lights as an authoritative voice seemed to emerge from within. Group A-01? That was them, right? Jarvis couldn’t say he was the sort to pay too much attention to extraneous details—like which group he was in—when got accepted into the F.A.T.E program. Then a blur…a humanoid blur…shot straight from the orb to the line of trees to the south. Jarvis tracked it, more out of curiosity than anything else, his eyebrow arching as Sara suddenly flew out from the trees looking…a bit different…then she did before.

Angrier.

Jarvis could practically taste the bloodlust in the air.

If there was any doubt that Sara, despite her partial human scent, was a werewolf, it was gone now. She hadn’t exactly gone full furry, but the savageness in her eyes and posture was telling enough…until it was gone…as if she’d been drugged. He watched her partner take her away in the direction he’d left Shield Girl, before glancing back in the direction of Chain Girl to see that she was on her phone. Belatedly realizing that he too received a notification on his Magi-techy mobile device, Jarvis pulled the magical contraption out of his pocket and watched the video of Spikes scoring the goal, while Cyrus’s—Personal Deathscythe of the Shinigami—crisp voice called an end to the match and provided commentary.

Jarvis blinked in confusion. Did Spikes actually win the bout for the goal in the end…but how was he able to get the ball? The bloodsucker was 99% sure that he’d gone after the real one the first time it appeared. Could there be more balls in the forest? Was the game actually more complicated than he’d thought? Or was it some sort of magic trick like the two halves he’d seen after the flashbang. Some sort of fake, perhaps? Looking from back from the half he possessed to the one Spikes threw into the goal, Jarvis's shoulder sagged as he sighed in disappointment.

Chain Whip’s girl’s reaction was understandable, but Jarvis had always been the sort to just accept things once they were decided: A loss was a loss. Why brood over it? It was only a bonus game anyway…and it wasn’t as if half of him hadn’t already considered the whole game to be farce. He only played on the off chance it wasn’t. Because he couldn’t face Altli’s soul without putting his best foot forward, given the provided opportunity.

And, perhaps, because he was a bit of a coward as well.

Picking up Chain Whip’s ball half, Jarvis de-transformed his left hand as he put them together, idly spinning the wooden football on the tip of his finger. Blackie would get a new toy after this, if nothing else. The only ones that slightly annoyed Jarvis were the two meisters in the sidelines that had been ‘trying to kill each other’ and brought a premature end to the game…

They weren’t even playing the game.

…Or were they? There had been no rules against killing each other. If the teachers didn’t want any of them to die, wouldn’t it have been more prudent to provide such information in the messages? Granted such things should be common sense to most sane people…and Jarvis had no intention of killing anyone just to get an easy pass out of the program…but still. It didn't seem like the most efficient way to run a clean game.

…And, if there was already a winner, why would the game have continued…?

“…Yeah, this is bullshit.”

Voicing his agreement with the Chain Whip Girl’s assessment, Jarvis thew up a middle finger at the laughing sun before stuffing his hands (and the ball) in the pockets of his jacket as he slumped his way over to where the other the other students were gathering around the stern-sounding Deathscythe.

 

[Sir Les Paul]

Adrian Hackney​

"The Maiden"​

Species Human
Partner None
Rank Fate Agent

Location Death City, Lot C
Mission A-01 Meeting
Status Surprised, excited.

​

Mentions: @ Basically everyone.

Just prior, Adrian was playing with the newly carved copies of the ball half he had carved. What he thought was a humorous act of scoring a point with entirely fake carvings ultimately won him the game. It was only seconds later, in fact, his phone went off with the replay of his exploits. That felt... cheap. But he won. He was also just far enough away that he didn't quite hear most of the instructions given, but upon seeing Sara get thrown, he darted out of the tree to see the blue-haired figure that threw her, and his subsequent announcement of himself as Cyrus and instructions.

This was a genuine surprise to him. It did occur to him that with this lot, his victory might have been considered underhanded and undeserved. Hell, he felt that way. He wasn't even trying to win, he made these copies as decoys to mess with the others. More so, he realized it might just paint a target on his back.

But, he didn't care. He did, actually, but not enough to actually do anything about it.

Adrian ran back over to his pile of wooden balls, contemplated things, and transformed his arm into the curved door of his Iron Maiden form. He scooped up the remaining balls into the underside of this door, effectively turning what he normally used as a shield into an impromptu basket. Today was just full of alternate uses for his transformations. And, with no small amount of excitement, he ran off to the rest of the group congregating around Cyrus.

But that wasn't the end. As he got to what he felt was appropriate throwing range, Adrian started hurling the wooden balls at different members of their group. Jarvis first, then Adra, Nadia, Sara, Kasper, and even going on to throw more for Zari, Athena, Gauss, and Zosar. He would have continued, but he only had made eight copies, else everyone would have got one.

"Thanks for playing this game with us, folks! For participating, we'll give you your own prize!" he shouted as he started throwing.

"You get a ball!"

"You get a ball!"​

"You get a ball!"​

"And of course, you get a ball!"

 

[Sir Les Paul]

Thaddeus Thales​

"Gauss"​

Species Human
Partner None
Rank Fate Agent

Location Death City, Lot C
Mission A-01 Meeting
Status Serious

​

Mentions:

Gauss was entirely ready for the next round. He could feel it. The energy between them. Everything about Zosar from his stance to his tone made it apparent that he intended to actually fight this time. Not just those prissy dodges or being on the run, but actually deal some damage. With him on the offense, Gauss and his reactionary combat were in a far better position to be utilized. There was only so much he could do with the half-ass offense he was demonstrating up until now. And, clearly, Zosar was able to do far more damage with his fists than Gauss could with those bearings.

Gauss was consumed by the moment.

Right up until the words echoed through the air: "That is enough, group A-01."

Gauss knew that voice. He had heard it not only broadcast elsewhere, but in dealings with his father. That was Cyrus. Gauss was prideful, but not stupid. He knew when to stop, and this was definitely it. He would have entirely relaxed his stance if not for the follow-up he saw with Cyrus blitzing to throw Sara. That type of speed and effortless redirection of momentum is exactly what Gauss would expect of the Death Scythe. The man known as the Blue Reaper. One of the only of the DWMA Elite to have a kill count for other agents. He was a living legend, in a sense. Just not a public one.

Once the demonstration with Sara and the further explanation from Cyrus followed, Gauss relaxed further then looked to Zosar. He hoped his body language was enough to visibly show he was no longer interested in the fight. However, he knew little of Zosar beyond what he his former comrades had told him. He wasn't sure just how much respect Zosar would show this man. But, surely, he at least knew who he was. His focus was on Zosar entirely until he noted the Meister also intended to back down.

That was, until... THWUMP.

Adrian came shouting about balls and by the time Gauss could take a glance over to see what the Hell he was talking about only to see the incoming ball. His first reaction was to try and push it away with a magnetic field, but nope. Wooden ball. No effect. He also tried to catch said ball, but was at an awkward angle for it, so with his arms up it slipped right in to catch him in the chest and knock around his lungs. He coughed, but caught the ball.

"Fuck you, bud," he said, half-wheezing with the ball in his arms, although hardly audible.

 

[Mqueserasera]

PRUDENCE PONTMERCY
Location: DWMA - Lot C
Mentions:
Interaction: Kasper ( Phayne ) Cyrus ( Sir Les Paul )​

Prudence’s focal point remained the little blotch of sunlight next to her feet. She did not move her attention from it even as the boy knelt down before her and brought his face close. The closer his face approached the more intense her attention fixated on the golden spot, as if it was or a solid point of defense that guarded her against his advance. Only when his punch sped past her face, and the tremor was transferred to her back to confirm the force behind it, did she turn to look, slowly, following the direction of his arm, as if to confirm that it was in fact the trunk that was hit and not a particularly skillful assassin who had sneaked up on her without her knowledge. What else could be his purpose then? Intimidation?

Alas, without the time to manifest a proper response to his character, she opted for a neutral tone without a trace of fear or surprise to her voice. “If I had offended you somehow, I apologize. I didn’t know it would be a cause of anger."

When the next words came in, her expression stiffened. There was still the friendly front as before but had frozen, and somewhat, slightly, withered. It took all she had, and she had not a lot at that time, to keep her face straight and seemingly unaffected by his dreadful declaration of interest.

Just then, her magitech device vibrated. With the boy's face still in extremely close vicinity to her own, she turned carefully and fished the device out of her pocket, looked away from him, and checked the message. Her movement and reaction were perfectly natural, as if it was indeed a perfectly natural thing to ignore someone so close she could feel their breath. There was a clip attached, but she did not bother to open it, as the text alone sufficed. How and who had won the game had little to do with her when the winner was not herself. Then came the booming voice of the Shinigami’s Death Scythe himself. Which served as her convenient escape.

“What a shame. It seems we have to go.” Deftly she maneuvered her way out of the tight space between the boy and the tree and started walking to Cyrus. Though she never gave him another look, there were her usual parting words: “That was a nice chat. I hope we can speak again later.” She did not. In fact, her only hope was to never be associated with this boy again. Her attempt to squeeze out of his attention had failed. And it seemed he would only get even more annoying from now on.

 

[The Regal Rper]

Zosar | DWMA | Lot C

He hated everything about this current situation and it was only really just hitting him now as the blood wept out of a fresh wound over his forehead.

For a brief moment, before Gauss even shifted to take that more familiar stance he knew was in Karate, before he even adjusted to take his own in the arts of Shaolin, Zosar he heard her cheering. He felt it in her soul without seeing. He could sense it. The excitement, the joy, the adoration-- this is what Gauss had meant, wasn't it? He had initially believed it was an excuse even though he knew there had been some truth in it when the brunet had said it. He knew Athena got her kicks off conflict, he'd been the subject of it for years- it was always something he'd wondered when they were younger since he'd been flitting around, doing work- it wasn't until they spent more time together that he noticed it clearly. So when he heard Athena cheering he wasn't surprised. He'd expected her to enjoy it, just like Gauss had said. The only thing it'd done was perhaps confirm the sincerity in Gauss' initial reason for challenging him- even though he highly doubted that was the only reason he'd challenged him.

No what Zosar realized, in this brief moment- as they both shifted and took their stances- was how much this situation sparked irritation in him, on top of the growing anger from the aching pain he could still feel in his legs.

The fact Gauss had been willing to go this far, showed him the reason why he was here in this Program. He clearly had some personality issues if he was willing to nearly fuck someone up just for some game of attention.

If he'd been an enemy there was no doubt in his mind, Zosar would have killed him with that punch. He wouldn't have held back, he would have struck him with his full might- much harder than the jab he'd given him to ensure anything inside his body liquified. He'd done it more than a few times before, he'd have had no problem doing it again.

Anger, boiled like water in his soul yet it was kept at a low temperature due to his progress. His past. And the remembrance of his training. He knew what anger could do to him, knew what he would do if it ever got out of hand. Knew what would happen to him hear if he lost his shit over something stupid like this. Sure he was pissed, but he wasn't about to seriously hurt Gauss anymore than he currently was. Right now, he was observing him carefully. That punch he'd thrown had evened the playing field, yes, but the question now was- did he want to hurt him badly? Or did he just want to give him what he was looking for? Holding back was clearly out of the question, but striking him with his might like he had earlier, would be foolish also. The approach here was easy- he'd fight him, but he would ensure that any damage he did would just be memorable.

Yet at the same time, as he moved forward- turning eight feet to seven feet, a part of him was spiteful. Angry that he'd been forced into this type of situation without his permission. All of this was starting to remind him of Manchester, one mission. One mission before he'd called back to HQ for the DWMA mission. The one with the monetized illegal caged fights. Where people in debt could fight for money, literal matches where anything went except death unless they were the special events. You could beat the shit out of your opponent, knock teeth out of their head, and beat them within an inch of their life; male, female, young, old- the Grand Slam was all about the money you could earn for your debtor to avoid suffering something much worse.

He'd taken great satisfaction hunting some of those debtors down with the data from their employers and the locals. It'd been good to see crime pay with Becky and the others.

The motto had been: as long as you were the last one standing in the match before the timer was out or survived the rounds you were put in against the champ, you could earn big. It was a gritty time watching those fights, surrounded by an audience of humans, all essentially nothing more than bloodthirsty animals looking for a good time and an even better show to enjoy. Where bets were made, and money flowed towards the sponsors- all for the sake of helping those poor souls out of their 'dues'.

Right now he was that poor soul. Gauss was his opponent, and Athena was might as well have been part of the crowd.

The whole thing kind of pissed him off, and honestly knocking Gauss onto his ass felt like an appropriate response.

That idea was quelled instantly however when he sensed someone else's anger from a distance. And then his own flames were extinguished when he felt that rage explode into a frenzy. Surprise made him turn his head-- and he saw her.

"Sara?" He whispered in confusion. But then it clicked. His widened eyes looked at Gauss, noticed the blood, looked at the back of his right hand, noticed the blood.

A cold lump dropped into Zosar's gut. He'd fought among Werewolves before. Werewolves of the Leto tribe had joined their members in France after a particular mission that had gotten the Enlighteners involved with some of their members. Some of the youth and adults had joined due to the strength their group had shown them. And he'd seen how savage a Werewolf could be without a Weapon. And her target was-- SHIT!

Zosar was already flaring his soul, pushing it to towards his current max. Despite how much he disliked Gauss, the last thing he wanted to see was that. He could see who she was looking at. In his desire to defend and slight panic he didn't even sense the soul that had dropped onto the field. The only thing stopping him from going beyond that and using his full might was the fact he knew he had something shackled to his bicep that would stop him.

Luckily there'd been an intrusion. And he'd detected it a second before the werewolf was flung and down.

"That is enough, group A-01."​

He blinked. He heard what Athena said as she passed, but he honestly didn't register it much till a second later.

Calming, Zosar exhaled slowly through his nose, realizing the danger was over and that their task had changed. With a sweaty palm that he wiped on his pants, he grabbed his phone and ignored the twitches in his other arm as he read the text. Sweat made his clothes stick but he ignored it.

There was no need to get so worked up honestly. He'd known they'd been watching- but still...

The pain from the wound made him wince. Releasing his Amplification he began moving where the others were gathering. With a single glance towards Gauss, he noticed his own stance now down.

The anger flashed more in his eyes than it did in his face. Controlling his facial tics had been something he'd had conditioned into him. It was easy. Yet that didn't stop him holding some genuine resentment for Thales in general.

Though hearing Adrian throwing balls around and seeing one come his way before Gauss did, did make him smirk a bit at seeing the way it'd winded him.

Sucker.

Though in all honesty, he was probably the sucker here. Now that his Amplification was off he was feeling the pain in his legs. Hobbled steps. Then eventually, spikes of amplification to numb the pain. He got there soon enough, but not as soon as he'd liked.

Mentions: Merciless Medic Phayne RedArmyShogun QuirkyAngel Prizzy Kriyze Sybil Huntertabbysandshark3 EmperorsChosen Mqueserasera

Interactions: Britt-21 Sir Les Paul

 

[Phayne]

Location: Lot C. // Mentions: Mqueserasera Sir Les Paul [Cyrus]

'Ah... this is great...' thought Kasper as he kept his position over Prudence, eyes locked upon her as he listened with baited breath. Child-like expectancy fuelling his furore as he anticipated her next move. Anger? No... he wasn't angry in the slightest. Why would he be? There was no reason for him to fall victim to such a primitive emotion, no reason to debase himself to such a bestial act of being driven by rage. Excitement was the fuse that was lit beneath him; nurturing a state of borderline ecstasy as he found himself teetering between the edge of temptation. To grasp her and attempt to break her on the spot and the restraint to prolong his merry fun.

Kasper had yet to meet a woman quite like Prudence, so skilled at playing this role, this façade. Behind her words, her actions and her attempts to not play along; Kasper could not help but wonder what secrets remained within her; what soul remained locked away behind the iron clad exterior that she was so adamant at maintaining. Had Kasper been a weaker man, he'd have called her actions callous; a cruel ploy to break his attempts to know her. Alas, he was neither weak willed or quick to give up the hunt. This was nothing more than foreplay for him; he'd play along with her defiance; a price he'd pay for the inevitable.

The sound of both their magitech devices going off would stir Kasper from his fantasies, his eyes darting down to Prudence's hands as she fished her own device. For that brief moment, Kasper felt a tinge of frustration; eyes fixed upon the device that had stolen her attention away from him; mocking him in his attempts as she gripped it in her hand; the envy almost palpable as time appeared to take that extra second longer to pass. 'What is it?' he wanted to ask, though before he had the opportunity; the voice of Cyrus could be heard clear as day from a spot behind him; Kasper's brows furrowing in response to what was said and how it had given Prudence the opening she needed to escape. He wanted to tell her to stop, to reach out and make her, though he found himself hesitating at that moment; as if some former part of himself had been reluctant to do so.

Instead, he would let her go despite what he desired; begrudgingly accepting the results for now; knowing that an opportunity would arise once more; whether natural or made on his own accord. Despite all that, it still pained him that he could not act upon that desire to reach out and grab her hands, to stop her from getting away from him. Though he also knew full well that the repercussions of acting on that desire would not be a measly one either.

Remaining in his position for a few moments longer, Kasper's head would hang low in temporary defeat; several droplets of either sweat or tears dropping to the floor as he kept his expression hidden from those still within close proximity.

"The game only concluded because you decided to interrupt us," he said through gritted teeth in response to Cyrus's earlier announcement. The sound of a small explosion echoing after his remark as he finally stood up; the tree where Prudence had earlier rested against now collapsing onto its side; the portion of trunk where Kasper's hand had been now obliterated.

As the dust settled, Kasper would finally turn around and make his way towards the group; both hands dusting himself off as he recollected himself.

'Round 2 can't come soon enough...' he thought as he walked over.

​

 

[Huntertabbysandshark3]

xander
Interaction: Mineczka RedArmyShogun EmperorsChosen​

Xander gave a cheerful grin the other girls that approached especially the one that he’d temporarily blinded ok so it wasn’t exactly the most appropriate of responses the smile or blinding her to begin with. “Hu I see well I’ll stop recording eh it’s well we are all in this program for a reason.. that’s, part of it for me at least but honestly the cat skinning implies you can catch me“ xander replied with a small smile tail wagging behind him gently as he shut the camera off for now. He did roll his eyes a bit at the pink haired girl who just seemed to be a bit annoyed with him but that was to be expected.

however the arrival of a text stating the winner to be someone called Adrian Hackney. Ok so this little charade was over with and now there instructor would finally arrive well at least head of the project they where all in announcing exactly what he’d expected that the ballgame was all bullshit and just to gauge how the reacted maybe it was good that he didn’t hold back? It certainly proved why he needed to be here… he’d let out a sigh shrugging before getting up off the front of the car and following the two girls towards the Cyrus. But her turn Around to the tired looking girl again. “You coming along too don’t want to get yeeted do ya?” Xander asked her with a soft tone, waiting for a second hed then turn around tail flicking behind him as he continued towards Cyrus as instructed.

 

[Merciless Medic]

Sara Middleton & Noah Wiley​

Location: Lot C, Near Cyrus
Interactions: Zari ( Prizzy Kriyze ), Zosar ( The Regal Rper ), Kasper ( Phayne )
Mentions: Cyrus

Why did I do that? Why did I think that was okay? Why did I listen to Noah? Why did he goad me? I'm just horrible. What's my mom gonna think if she had seen that? What about dad?

Sara's mind swirled with many self-destructive and confused thoughts, unsure of where to even catch up on. The buzz of her phone had gone off as she had charged Gauss, so she had no idea what was going on or who had won or why there was a glowing orb in the middle of the field floating there.

Noah, thankfully, caught on when he saw everyone check their phones. He at least saw the orb rise from the middle of the field, heard their group being called A-01, and heard that whoever had won won't be skipping the course. Noah pulled out his phone, going to an unread message that had the name of the winner - Adrian Hackney. An Autonomous Weapon. Hm. He can at least respect that. Noah showed the message to Sara, who was zoning out into the middle of the grass, her finger absentmindedly scratching the same spot on her neck under the collar over and over again. Before she scratched it enough to draw blood, Noah grabbed her wrist and shoved the phone in her face, the neck where she scratched now rubbed raw and bright red. Her eyes drifted to focus on the phone, an amused, small smile stretching her lips from a blank frown. "Heh, that's kinda clever."

"Yeah, but we need to head back. Cyrus, the Death Scythe of Lord Death, is waitin' for us." Noah stood up, reaching a hand out to help Sara up.

"Was that who threw me?" She grabbed his hand as he pulled, helping her up.

"Yup. He told us to stop, but I don't think ya heard it in your bloodlust. Even Zosar and Zari tried to stop ya." Noah helped dust off her back and held her shoulders, helping her to stay standing until she can do so on her own.

"Yeah, don't remind me-EEP!"

Both Sara and Noah jumped, with Sara grabbing her ears, as they heard a blast go off. Looking over, it was Kasper. He blew up a large trunk of the tree. Looking around, both of them saw that monochrome girl from earlier walking away. Did she do something to set him off? Patting Sara on the back, Noah decided to see what his deal was. While Sara left, half jogging as she shamefully made her way back to the group, Noah caught up with Kasper, hands in his pockets as his bored eyes stared at the well-dressed Demon Weapon with some interest. He didn't know why, but he felt almost compelled stay near him. Why? He had no idea. "Yo, ya okay? That was an... Impressive blast ya did there." It seeped into his tone the uncertainty of his comment, as if he were actually a little perturbed at the strength of the wavelength. "The name's Noah." For the entire stretch of the field, Noah would walk back to the group, keeping a nice, steady pace. Whether he was alongside Kasper or not was inconsequential. Even if Kasper stayed silent and made it to the group, he was fine with that. There wasn't a whole lot to talk about anyway before they get there. He just wanted to make sure Kasper didn't blow up anything else.

Meanwhile, Sara had ran back, the feeling in her legs coming back as she made it to the group. Balls were being thrown by Adrian, and she caught one easily, tucking it under her arm. It was really nice, having something to ground herself with. Still, she felt apologetic and ashamed for her actions. She just hoped her parents didn't hear about this and humiliate her. She can smell something akin to fear. Maybe anxiety. Maybe concern. She couldn't tell, but she knew it came from two people the most. She walked to Azariah first, sensing his concern. Her ears down and pinned back and her tail down, she scratched the back of her head, her voice soft and quiet, hoping nobody else heard her apology as she was already quite embarrassed. "H-Hey... Sorry about that, I didn't mean to... Um... Scare you like that. Heh. Thanks for trying to stop me when you could. I appreciate it. Just be careful when you do it again next time." Waiting for a moment to hear if Zari had anything else to say, she parted ways with him with a simple wave and a "talk to you later" before heading to Zosar. There was concern. Anxiety maybe. That and anger. Lots of it. Wanting to maybe help distract him, she spoke up to him, her ears and tail still in the same spots as they were when speaking to Zari. "Hey... Uh... Sorry about spooking you earlier. I didn't mean to get you upset or scare you... Thanks for trying to stop me."

She waited for Zosar's reaction, hoping he wasn't going to be too upset. Either way, she waited for Cyrus to speak, pointing her attention towards the Death Scythe once everyone was accounted for.

 

[Sybil]

Adrasteia Chandrice

Adrasteia couldn’t have felt less interested in an object before, the ball being sent her way only making her agitated. She would side step the toss as she looked back, her face near full blown disgust as she glared at Adrian for half a second. After that she turned back to the spokesperson for the program, thinking about the whole class from what she saw. Anything to distract herself from the ball and the weapon who made it.

This wonder who is going to lose their minds completely first…. Seems like the girl with Noah will…. Lost her shit already… wonder what her deal is… and that fucking tattooed guy… my money are on those two…

coded by: @s e v e n​

​

Mentions: Sir Les Paul Merciless Medic Prizzy Kriyze
​

 

[The Regal Rper]

Zosar | DWMA | Lot C

Having now the clarity that there was not a infuriated werewolf charging in their direction, with the fight officially over and others drawing towards the Death Scythe, Zosar could not help but keep his distance. The furthest from the group.

There was something about being in the presence of the Blue Reaper, that simply did not sit well with the meister. Was he good looking? Sure, certainly. It wasn't his looks though that got Zosar all bothered. He felt a pang of discomfort in the back of his mind. Smothered, unrecognizable, but there. Faint and lingering.

The counterargument was instant. They're not going to kill you when you've done nothing wrong to deserve it.

He knew that. They wouldn't. They hadn't done it in the last two and a half years since the day they found out, why would they do it now?

Why not? All it took was a single big fuck up, just one, and it was over. He was losing it being here. Losing his edge. There was no reason, a voice in his head reminded him, that he could fully trust any of them. They all had a singular goal, yes, but at the end of the day- everyone was looking to improve themselves for the better. Look at what had happened when the truth was revealed- even after spending so much time trying to make up for it, who had approached you? The voice asked.

No one.

Who had cared?

No one.

Did you do it to yourself?

His eyes lidded. That answer was obvious. He was, ultimately on his own. He had to be careful. At the end, no one had his back. When the chips were down, he had deserved what he had gotten to him- he had resented it, but he had ultimately deserved it, from their perspective at least. They might give empty platitudes, false hope- but the fact was, as he stood there farthest from the others- where the Death Scythe conducted them together, he was on his own. Not a soul here would help him if he didn't help himself.

Maybe Athena, but would she really?

He looked at her. Then looked away.

He wasn't even sure. She had her own problems. Her own things to worry about. Just like he'd found it harder and harder to find a partner when he'd been allowed to rejoin after the arrest- people had been looking out for themselves, on some level- if something did happen, where he did cross a line, it would probably end the same. There was no reason to believe anyone would stick their neck out for him, he was the outsider- most of them had practically been taken in by the DWMA. He and the others had forced their way in.

The thought cemented itself. He was on his own. Yes, this program would give him freedom when he passed. Yes, maybe he'd even get a partner out of it. But ultimately, right now- he was on his own.

Doubt, blossomed, like the flowers of a new spring. And the thoughts flowed.

They had not killed him yet because they did not have a reason to kill him yet. Death was natural, everyone feared it, Zosar found death acceptable under his own terms. He found dying in this situation pathetic though. He did not want to die a prisoner, nothing but a lout, a leech, begging for something to keep him alive. While he looked around to distract himself, keeping aware of his surroundings, thoughts unwanted, forced their way in. Of how his superiors among the Enlighteners used to talk about how the DWMA itself was often far too strict and stringent in some areas for its own good. How rogues were eliminated for their trouble and the slander they brought to the organization. Rebellions, crushed. Disobedience, punished. Traitors, hunted, slaughtered.

There's more to it than just that. He told himself. He knew there was. There'd been more context to it than that. Albeit, he couldn't help it. The weight on his shoulders, the itch and tingle along his arms from the distant awareness of madness around him from more than one person- it made him paranoid. The vast space he could perceive as his own anxiousness from seeing Cyrus there, was now playing against him. Made him think. Made his arm feel like the blood flow was being constricted due to the armband on it.

He breathed in, then exhaled out. Focus he could practically hear Hiroji utter into his ear in that stern, firm, harsh, yet considerate command.

The thoughts were banished, as Zosar exhaled. He was not in danger. Not now, not yet. He was a prisoner- yes- he knew, but, if he played the game- he would survive.

He just had to survive...but then what? He didn't know.

Would the DWMA ever trust him truly? He had no idea. It was beyond his understanding to know if they would. The idea that he would be their 'prisoner' forever, revolted him. He used to hunt scum, he wasn't one of them.

Yet why did he feel so at unease, seeing Cyrus who had not even threatened him. It wasn't like it had been with the Hoshi- with him, he'd been ready to die the day they had met- right now, he wasn't expecting his suspicions, his doubts, to be cemented. A part of him didn't want to hear it. And for some reason, he felt Cyrus would pull him away to have a 'talk' about what the rules were for him in particular here. It disturbed him.

And that's when he sensed movement coming towards him. Reflex, instinct- took over- the pain in his legs flared and that triggered the anger- for a brief second- he thought it was Gauss. Or perhaps Cyrus himself. Signatures weren't exactly his forte but he was good at recognizing most he had seen enough times without looking. Yet in this exact moment, logic and thought went out the window. He didn't know, couldn't have even explained why. Maybe it was the years of learning to never let your guard down when you could always be jumped kicking in; maybe it was the stress of knowing that the Death Scythe that could decide his fate was right there, calling them all towards him, like sheep to the slaughter; maybe it was the pain in his legs, the aching sting that throbbed even as he stood still, multiplied by the stinging sensation from where he bled from his head-- whatever sparked it, the emotional turmoil inside him spiked his wavelength, his muscles tensed, ready to move away or back as wavelength reflexively flooded into his body--

--anger at all of this- this whole situation, at himself, this damn device they have strapped on to--

"H-Hey"​

He was calm. Deathly so. When she'd crossed the line by getting a few feet too close, his attention had immediately shut down any of the anger he'd been feeling towards himself and turned into focusing on her. The only sign he was paying attention, was the intensity in those mismatched eyes as they suddenly snapped up and turned to her. He might have had a minor startle just now where he nearly jumped yards away from Sara while he was so lost in his own head, fighting with his thoughts- but the second he'd recognized her- all that anxiety had vanished in place of focused caution as she approached him. He had not forgotten what she had become moments ago- and as she approached, he watched her carefully. Studying both her and her soul.

He had a sense of what she was going to say before she even said it. And so he was silent as she spoke as he watched her in neutral calm.

He sighed. Letting everything out in one go. The anger, the paranoia, the frustration, the sense of overwhelming confusing feeling of self-hate and self-regret- he let it all out in that sigh, and instead gave Sara what she deserved.

His empathy. "I'm not mad at you." He reassured her with a small smile, not moving a muscle away or towards her. She would have to come to him. "I'm just glad nothing bad happened." And that was the truth. He meant it. He really was glad nothing bad had happened. He was pretty sure he couldn't have stopped her on his own or even with Gauss or some of the others, let alone with her partner in her hands doubling her capabilities.

"Do you normally get so, yknow, grrred-up at the scent of blood?" He asked, slipping in that joke on the side to try and alleviate the situation. Eyes glancing towards Zari before looking back at her. "I don't mean to pry and all, it's just considering your comment on my scent and all" he tapped his nose in a sign, waved fingers to his slightly bleeding forehead wound, "I would have figured you would have been chasing after me the second you smelled me." Though in all honesty it was more an attempt at trying to get out the details on why she'd went after Gauss in the first place. He'd seen it in her when she was charging. She had meant hostile violence, and it hadn't been directed at him out of the two people there. He genuinely was curious as to why. Did she see the fight from start to finish? Was she being territorial like some of the Evan and some of the others he knew could be when they had people they favored being treated in a way they didn't like. He was genuinely curious. What had triggered this bad reaction, and waited for her reply. At least if it was given before Cyrus spoke again.

Mentions: Britt-21 Sir Les Paul Phayne RedArmyShogun QuirkyAngel Prizzy Kriyze Sybil Huntertabbysandshark3 EmperorsChosen Mqueserasera

Interactions: Merciless Medic

 

[Merciless Medic]

Sara & Zosar​

Location: Lot C
Interactions: Zosar ( The Regal Rper )
Mentions: N/A

Just like that, when she drew near, not only was she blast with the scent of his soul, but all the strung up emotions he was dealing with. No wonder why he was away from the group. He smelled so... Scared, was it? She didn't think it was that but she definitely smelled lots of stress and anxiety. The crimson liquid that has bled into his soul like it has bled over his forehead had grown far stronger in scent, and she was very aware that it had something to do with his past now. Luckily, she was in a far better state of mind to not be affected by his scent.

What has gotten you so destroyed? So hurt?

She wanted to ask that, but didn't want to come off too strong. She already put off a lot of people with how nosey she was in the past and she didn't want to scare Zosar away. He was going through it rough. She can tell. Sara wondered just how broken he was and what she can do to help him feel better. Not 'fix', she already knew that 'fixing' people was impossible. Only if they were willing to accept the help.

Until then, she'll pour all her heart and soul into helping anyone she can, caring for them like she does her own family.

She noticed his reflexes but that was normal. She spooked him again, but she had already come to apologize for it. She can smell his anger had grown when she approached, but she refused to back down. She wasn't scared of Zosar as she was of losing a potential friend. She knew what it was like being stuck in one's own head, and she wanted to make sure he wasn't alone and had a nice distraction from it all.

Then, his soul smelled like something else. Like how the air would smell before a storm. Where the ozone dips into the land and it smelled forebodingly good for a time before a torrential downpour coupled with lightning rained down on those below. She saw the look in those eyes. Of anger. Of resolution. Of assessment of what she was doing.

Then, no more anxiety. Just wariness of his soul, which she can see now with how close she was. Flames dancing about, wavering almost like it was cautious. But he was calm. That was good.

She was anxious. Apologetic. But most of all worried. Worried for Zosar. She didn't know how much kindness the poor man can take before he started getting afraid (dealing with loners or people who were traumatized and dealt with betrayal, she was all too familiar with them fighting against her kindness), but she was going to double down nonetheless. He was so happy and goofy not even thirty minutes ago. Yet she smelled a storm wracking within his soul. He was troubled. Probably from everything.

Why?

She'd just ask that later. She didn't want to pry.

After she said her apology, she watched as the anger, anxiety, and irritation, and other strange feelings left him in a sigh. She felt redeemed. Then, he said he wasn't mad at her.

Her ears perked up, a small smile on her face as the twinkle of happiness appeared in her eyes. Even her tail subtly wagged. She watched though as he was unmoving. He didn't want to get too close, but didn't want to be seen as rude for getting away.

Then he made a joke, and she giggled, rubbing the back of her head. She waited until he was done, shaking her head when he expressed concern about her heading towards him. “No. I uh... Not normally. Only when I feel like I want to fight, but even then I usually have a good control over myself during bloodlust. It's just... Noah was really upset about what he did earlier and he, you know, doesn't know how to handle emotions very well, so he just wants to hit things. So, he wanted me to fight someone. Plus, I was just so worried for everyone, angry, frustrated, I... My emotions became overwhelming. And then I smelled your soul. You smelled so angry and I wanted to see what was wrong so I could help and then... I saw you fighting someone. It normally wouldn't have affected me, but I just got so angry. Just…” She grimaced.

That was where he found it. His eyes didn’t move towards Noah but mentally he did try to locate his signature. He was coming towards them, with Kasper if he was correct.

He’d have to talk to Noah later. Remind him just how bad things could have been.

So she’d already been tense, seeing the circumstances of the fight had merely brought her over the edge. Though to get this worked up about someone she had just met? Even after the fact she’d admitted it herself. That was too good not to hone in on.

“I just…could smell he had antagonized you, he'd be the type. You even tried to back down, but he didn't want you to. I was angry. So when you both started to bleed, I lost it. I was mad that you were hurt and wanted to protect you because I care for you, and-”

“And I’m touched.” He cut her off. “You really are a sweetheart, Sara.” And he meant it. Actions did say much more than words- and right now he could see no deceit in either. “I’m touched you care this much about me to get that worked up.” He said as he went around her. Circling, eyeing her. It was subtle, hard to even catch it, but it was there. Slow steps, not meant for fighting- but meant to study. The shift in the atmosphere would have been instantly recognizable, like a lion circling its prey. Studying her reactions. There was a lot you could tell from the body language of a werewolf. They were very much physical beings and expressed it a lot in their bodies, stances, tics, and mannerisms. That at least, remained a constant across the species, it seemed.

Sara watched with some hint of knowing as confusion and intrigue washed over. Being circled like she was the prey this time was something the more dominant people in her community did to show where they were in the pecking order. They did that to show their confidence and that they were appraising you, to see if you were fit. Her tail wagged faster, yet her ears pinned as a light dusting of rose colored her cheeks.

“Though it does make me wonder…” and now he was closer as he came back to stand in front of her. Terribly close. Where there’d been more than five feet between them, now there were just two and he was leaning over, looking right into her eyes but still giving her enough space to be respectful.

There was a spike in his wavelength, a simple hint at mischief. The intoxicating scent of blood lingered ever closer both from him and his soul.

“It does make me wonder,” he continued, violet and indigo eyes watching her, slightly towering over her as he used his greater size to his advantage, “how much do you care for me if you were willing to get this worked up over me? You wouldn’t happen to be…interested in me by any chance?” He asked with a raised brow, a hint of curiosity in his voice. A lick of the lips, subtle as if to wet them, none of that slow creepy stuff people thought might be sexy, then he continued. “Maybe I’m overshooting here but if you are,” and he winked to show he was merely kidding, “I’ll tell you this, I wouldn’t mind getting to know you a bit better either.”

Sara’s eyes were glued to his mismatched ones as he grew closer. She had already dropped her ball during his speech with a small thump on the ground below and she tried to make sure if this was reality, but she couldn’t do anything. She was just… Entranced. Then the smell of his soul hit her like a strong slap to the face.

Her pupils dilated. He wasn’t entirely sure how to read that. Was it good, bad? Had he triggered something just now?

Oh, god… Sara thought.

She felt her knees shaking and she had to squeeze her legs together to stay standing. Subtle, a shift in her stance. Though her tail continuously wagged as her cheeks grew to a much darker red. She felt so small, but she never thought she’d enjoy this feeling this much. It made her a little excited, thrilled even. She watched him for a little longer, the words having left her long ago when he started circling her. She didn’t have the words, she had thoughts- one’s she couldn’t say- so she tried to force something else out anyway. “I… Well… Y-yeah, I-... I am… Interested in you… Your… S-Soul smells too nice…”

He grinned. That smirk. The presence. Looming.

Those eyes.

Zosar couldn’t help but show his teeth as he observed her. The smirk turned fiendish. Loki had always loved watching the reactions of others when mischief was afoot. Was that lust he had just sensed? Not a spark but an explosion of it quickly stamped down. He wanted to play on it- but- that would be in poor taste. He couldn’t do that, it’d be rude, crude, and lead to nothing.

Watching her squirm though. That certainly did make him grin.

To get rid of her embarrassment, she pulled out a hand towel and held it up, giving him a cheeky, yet embarrassed toothy grin. “Well… I gotta clean this up, before it gets all gross and crusty.” She reached out towards his forehead, wanting to wipe and dab away at his wound and the sticky red that's stuck to his forehead.

Taking her hand he held it back. “I’ll do it..” Smirk trading for a light smile. “I appreciate it though.” He reassured her, still smiling. Touching his forehead to the towel while it was still in her hand, he let her move the towel to where the blood was still present, then took the towel from her and began cleaning up the hand he’d wiped it off with, and any of the bloody remnants present.

Sara blinked a few times as he gripped her wrist, but she still was able to touch his forehead a little before he took the towel. It made her tail wag even faster out of joy, her red cheeks having not ceased. Once his forehead was clean, she dove in for a hug-- and to her surprise, he moved faster than she’d thought he could. Far faster than she’d expected really. She closed her hug trap and got nothing but air instead. But when she looked, there he was- same distance ahead of her, but watching her with those eyes of caution now- yet the smile and from his soul, said he wasn’t upset at all- just wary.

Giving him a deadpan look that turned into her eyebrows furrowing out of sadness, she tilted her head in confusion. "Do you not want hugs?" Voice quiet, she continued, not looking directly at him now as her cheeks reddened. "Well, I'd like a hug… I'm still kinda upset." She wasn't lying either, there was that film of anxiety of what she had done earlier that made her feel like absolute shit still.

His expression didn’t change. Though internally Zosar frowned. She means well...but still...

From her soul though he could see the swirl. There’d been excitement and joy, but now sadness, self-doubt and paranoia were growing. There was also the feeling he’d gotten her from before when they’d first started talking. That jittery vibe of uncertainty and nervousness- it seemed to be enhancing just a little. Fluctuating more than it had been just a few seconds ago.

His expression changed as he watched her for what was just a few seconds, eight in total. “Alright come here,” he waved for her with an outstretched arm. “Get over here before I change my mind.””

Sara, out of surprise, her eyes began to tear up as she gave a shaky smile. "Th-thank you…" Her tone was quiet, but she lunged into the hug, nuzzling into his chest as her arms wrapped around his waist. She looked up at him, a happy grin on her face as the emotional turmoil within her soul died down a little, becoming overjoyous, happy again. "By the way, I'm not like other werewolves. I take the whole dog stuff with pride, so I like my head pats. I noticed you may have had prior experiences with werewolves, so I just wanna let you know."

That certainly did make his brows go up. The Leto’s hated contact like that. It was a sin basically to be touched on the head without permission. Even worse if you touched their tails. The rule was: Just don’t touch them unless they tell you you can. They roughhoused with friends but kept anyone not within their spectrum of ally at a firm distance. The hierarchy they had was strict, so it was really a surprise to hear she didn’t mind it. As far as he knew in his travels, werewolves hated any attribution to canines. It was like a stereotype associated with them by stories just as much as using the word ‘bitch’ was slander for them. A questioning look was on his face as he raised his hand, having kept both arms up when she tackled him. When she gave him the nod, he put his left hand down and gently patted her head.

As soon as his hand touched her head, she gasped with such delight as if she had candy for the first time. She nuzzled into his hand, going on her tiptoes, her head laying sideways as her tail wagged so happily. "Ohhhhhhh the tinglies…!" She whispered-yelled, even going so far as to let out an almost purr-like growl as she exhaled pleasantly.

And that’s where he pulled his hand back scratching the side of his cheek. “Hehe, r-right, no problem.” He cleared his throat. Feeling slightly awkward.

“So uh...done with that hug?” He smiled sheepishly.

Sara looked up, blinked a few times, and sniffed once.

Oh.

OH.

She giggled sheepishly and let go, scratching the back of her head. "I uh… Hehe, whoops. Didn't mean to--"

“No, no.” He cut her off, placing the hand back on her head to reassure her before she got a horrible idea. Before she could back up too far away. He didn’t want her to think he was uncomfortable; he just...hadn’t expected that kind of reaction. Or for her to say anything really. It just- the mind wandered. He was good at suppressing it though. It was new, patting a werewolf on the head so he just hadn’t expected that kind of reaction. So he gave her a little scratch in assurance. “We’re good, don’t worry. I was just surprised.” He reassured her.

The anxiety that was about to well up from having him get excited on accident eased as soon as his hand was back on her head. Her hands balled up and squished her cheeks with the backs of her fingers and the ball of her palm, trying to not only cool her hot cheeks but to also help her keep her happy giggles and squeals of delight down to an acceptable volume level, which was surprisingly quiet to keep from embarrassing not only herself but him, as well. "Okay, good."

“You’re very different compared to what I know about Werewolves, but that’s good. I like to see that. Better than the old traditional sorts I’ve had the misfortune of meeting.” His smile returned. “Calm yourself, we’re fine. I wouldn’t avoid you just because of this. It’s cute, to be honest.” And with that said his hand moved away. “We should probably pay attention though in case he says anything.” He glanced at Cyrus, then looked back at her.

Sara nodded, getting back her spunk with her hands on her hips, her determination and fire returned in her eyes. "Well, if you did try to avoid me, I'd just find ya again. I'm not letting a cutie like you leave my sights that easily." She winked. "Besides, everyone needs a friend, I'm gonna make you my first friend if we aren't there already. I know what it's like to be abandoned, and you have piqued my interest first. But yea, we should pay attention." She finalized her statement with a swirl of her body, using that charm unintentionally as she got a bit closer to the group but kept her distance just to watch the others.

 

[Phayne]

Location: Lot C. // Mentions: Mqueserasera Sir Les Paul [Cyrus] // Interacts: Merciless Medic

Kasper followed at a steady distance observing the others beyond her as they gathered around Cyrus, as previously instructed. A tinge of annoyance in his features just about visible as he stared at the man in the distance. There was the obvious displeasure of having his fun interrupted by the Death Scythe, but there was also the fact that just as Kasper had previously assumed; his game was nothing more than a farce. Nobody was passing the course, just as Kasper had expected. That was way too easy... especially for a bunch of individuals once deemed to be 'unfit' for duty for a variety of reasons.

He wouldn't notice Noah approach until he spoke, Kasper turning to the side from where he had come from; eyes glancing downwards to see the escape artist that had earlier pulled Sara away from him and Prudence. He'd stop in the spot, studying Noah for any defining traits that stood out to him; setting aside the comment he had made about his little display of frustration. The first thing Kasper eyed was the man's neck, the presence of a collar being a key indication of what his reasons for being here were; though there was no collar to be found upon his neck ruling out the possibility that he was similar to Kasper as a Type C agent.

He'd next glance at his general appearance; his considerably shorter height giving Kasper a faint sense of superiority at this point as he glanced down at his diminutive frame; though he'd keep that thought to himself before his gaze was returned towards the gathering group; his pace resuming.

"There was nothing impressive about that" he replied, his hands flexing as he opened and closed his palm. His tone was straight to the point and lacking the general charisma he had tried to exude when speaking towards Prudence. Thoughts still fixed towards the way the game had ended and not yet aware of what secrets Noah had to offer him, Kasper could only find himself mulling things over as he continued his pace towards the group, until they were a few yards away where Kasper would suddenly stop and turn; leaning in towards Noah; questions unrelated to Cyrus or Prudence finally makings its presence known to him.

"Noah" he said most naturally, as if he had said his name hundreds of times before. "What does the Wolfgirl mean to you?" quizzed Kasper; a glimmer in his eye. "I seem to recall you grasping her tightly as you stole her away from me and Prudence. Should I have done the same to get what I wanted?" he continued to ask him; his mind returning to that moment back at the tree where he hesitated to reach out towards Prudence's departure.

Though before Noah could illicit a reply to his questions, Kasper would pull back and resume walking to Cyrus with his back to the fellow demon weapon. "Forget it. Forget I said anything.... The name is Kasper and I apologize if I made you feel like it was necessary to pull your friend away" he said, increasing the distance between them.

​

 

[Sir Les Paul]

Cyrus Kallis​

"Blue Reaper"​

Species Human (Death Scythe)
Partner Lord Kidd
Rank DWMA Elite

Location Death City, Lot C
Mission Not kill these fucking children A-01 Meeting
Status Unamused

​

Tags: Britt-21 Merciless Medic Sir Les Paul Phayne Huntertabbysandshark3 EmperorsChosen RedArmyShogun Mqueserasera QuirkyAngel Sybil Prizzy Kriyze Mineczka

March 7th, 2067 | 0929

"I should have been more clear. When I said listen, I didn't mean start your whole own conversations as you gathered. When I speak, I expect everyone to hear me the first time, and I expect that to be difficult if you're distracted," Cyrus said as the group gathered, speaking amongst themselves and moving slowly. Adrian throwing balls like it was victory waltz. Take your victory with humility. Kasper decided that three didn't deserve to live for whatever ungodly reason. Everyone just chatting amongst themselves. It was annoying. This is why Cyrus refused to be a professor, of EAT or NOT. He had little tolerance for this.

"Now that you're all─" Cyrus started, but immediately stopped. The reason wasn't clear at first, but it soon to be. No new wavelength had appeared for anyone paying attention, but with this individual, there wouldn't be. "Not again..." he muttered before letting out a low sigh.

Moments later with speed that to most of them there would have rivaled that which Cyrus displayed, another figure darted through the field, clearing the the halfway point from another floating orb beside the origin in less than a second flat. In the time it might have taken anyone just to turn their heads, the figure was already behind Cyrus, standing with his back to him and his blade arm drawn. The sound of metal clinking soon followed, Cyrus having deflected a legitimate attack from the figure with his pole arm.

Then he turned around. Another face some might know as the an infamous traitor much like Zosar, the former Dark Star, and world's only Death Golem: Midori☆Hoshi.

"This is the worst conceivable time and place, Midori," Cyrus growled.

"Then let's make it quick. You haven't stopped my Infinite Fortissimo before," Midori responded. With that, he walked forward to Cyrus, stopping rough ten feet or so in front of him. Then, his wavelength flared. Previously, this figure had none. A complete ghost of a man. Now, however, his wavelength wreaked of death. This wasn't a reminder of death, much like some others. This was death. Death like Jarvis, even. A soul in between the mortal and other realm. A soul whose wavelength did not flare like flames, but was still and controlled and precise like a torch. A soul even more still than that Cyrus.

With his wavelength flaring with no small amount of intensity, his body become ghostly transparent and extending from him were two on each side, continuing onward until they completely surrounded Cyrus with precisely eleven of these after images. Each one possessing that same flared wavelength, unlike even the after images some may have seen from the raw bursts of speed the Star Clan could utilize. This was different ability. These were the Old Ways.

A single slashing strike first as little more than an actual blur darting from one image to another. It was likely the agents couldn't even see the parry, but Cyrus did so effortlessly. Another from behind, another effortless parry. The third, however, is when the charade was ended. The entire setup completely brought to a halt as Cyrus side-stepped to catch Midori, literally by the hair of his head, then proceeded to slam his face into the ground creating a small crater. His wavelength died down. The images gone. Even his arm reverted back to normal. This seemingly impossible technique ended with just a single counter from Cyrus. To the man, Midori was little different than Sara.

"Are you going try to stab me literally every single time we meet? It's a waste of time; your speed is nothing to me," Cyrus said with easily the most frustration in his voice as the group had heard; the most emotion in his voice that he had debuted since meeting them.

"I only need to do it once," Midori said, half-garbled due to the mouthful of dirt he had. Cyrus' hand was still pressing his head down. It was clear there was tension.

Cyrus released Midori and stood back up, his eyes fixated on the man with a clear amount of disdain. Midori was not his favorite person. He couldn't deny the skill, but his history, attitude, and consistent attempts to stab him due to his reputation had irked him for literal years at this point. "You weren't even to be introduced yet, Midori, and you're setting a terrible example for these miscreants," Cyrus scolded him.

"Which made it the perfect time to strike. I didn't think you'd expect it before then," Midori answered matter-of-factly as he stood up and wiped the dirt from his face. It was, at least, a valid response. Although Midori's face was now scratched up and dirty from the absolute disregard Cyrus had to his jawline when face-thrusting him into the ground.

"Just stand behind me and stay silent. You got your one shot this time and missed it, so don't waste more time," Cyrus instructed him. At the very least, the man was consistent. He treated everyone this way. Midori listened, taking a few steps behind him and crossing his arms silently while Cyrus returned his focus to the group.

"That is Midori Hoshi. He will be one of the three mentors for this group. Specifically, he will be overseeing Zosar Straugg and whomever is with him," Cyrus explained to the group in front of him. "Which leads me to some explanations as to how we will proceed. First, we will pair you. Meisters and weapons, that is. Anyone not in a pair will stand with Midori behind me until it is complete. Then, once paired, we will determine which team you are on. This is one of the larger groups, so we will be splitting you. You will all still be Group A-01. Any name beyond that will be determined your mentors," he went on to explain.

"I have decided that pairing will predominantly be at the behest of the Weapons in this scenario, but there are some guidelines. Those that are sensitive to Madness or are touched by it will not be paired with an individual in the same case. This should be for obvious reasons. If I need to explain further, I would suggest a remedial class. The topic can be difficult for some, so I will not list names. This is one of my few kindnesses. That said, I will either outwardly refute a pairing I know to be of this situation or you may ask me personally before I finalize a pair for assurance," Cyrus told them, giving specific instructions as to this particular topic as it was paramount for the pairs.

"Secondly, I will get this out of the way. Of all Meisters, one here can simultaneously utilize multiple weapons. That is Thaddeus Thales, or as you may know him, Gauss. This is a rare circumstance. Being part of trio or even quartet is a unique dynamic not suitable for everyone, but can be advantageous to others. Given this is the case, this pairing will occur first. Consider carefully if you are willing to participate in a larger partnership, then all those willing to try will stand in front of. Thaddeus, you will stand here as well. After that, you will discuss amongst yourselves what you think the best pairing will be and once agreed, either stand behind me with the rest of the group or return to your line-ups. Weapons to the right, Meisters to the left. I expect you to not behave like children if things don't go your way," he said as a final amount of instruction.

"Lastly, but not least important, I will also introduce my apprentice as you take your spots. Emira, please come here," he said aloud, making sure sure she picked up on his instructions. "She is part of the Scythe Corps under me and functions as either an Autonomous Weapon or a partner. She will be assessing all of you, also watching over Zosar, and intervening when necessary on my behalf. She may not outrank your mentors, but she reports directly to me," he explained, finalizing her introduction.

Cyrus was a methodical man. Steps for everything. A plan for everything. An order for everything. His monotonous voice didn't lose an ounce of authority or intimidation after his altercation with Midori and his instructions were clear. He didn't intend for questions, and gave off the impression that not understanding was their problem--not his.

​

 

[Merciless Medic]

• Noah Wiley
• Sara Middleton

• 
  
  
  

  Noah Wiley​

  
  Location: Lot C, near Cyrus
  Interactions: Kasper ( Phayne ), Cyrus and Midori ( Sir Les Paul )
  Mentions: Zosar
  

  
  Noah watched Kasper eye him, looking at his neck. It made him rather uncomfortable, unnerved even. Why was he checking that out? To see if he was just as uncontrollable as his Meister or mad? It was then that Noah looked at Kasper's neck, but there was a turtleneck in the way. From this close though, he could barely make out how thick the turtleneck was. Or maybe that was his imagination. What's up with this man? He watched as Kasper seemed to be leering down at him in that one glance. Sizing him up.
  
  He cursed himself for being so observant...
  
  Then, the good-looking man spoke, making Noah's eyebrow raise. "Nothin' impressive?" It was... Startling to hear that. That he could do so much worse to that tree if he had wanted to. He watched him flex his hand, a little wary now that he decided to speak with this strange man. They walked in silence after that, getting close enough that they'd be a part of the group while still keeping a good distance. That was when he suddenly turned to him and said his name. The way he spoke shot alarm bells ringing in his head.
  
  "Wolfgirl? Ya mean Sara?" Noah watched the glance towards the trees, and the question finally dawned on him. "Well, I-..."
  
  Then, Kasper walked away, and Noah deadpanned, his eyes lidding in irritation. "Kasper, wait." He ran up to him, catching up to his side as he stayed stubbornly there. "Huh? I'm just not gonna forget that easily, man. It wasn't you that's reason why, if that's what ya think. I pulled her away because she nearly made a war with how much she flared her wavelength, and I was scoldin' her for doin' somethin' that stupid. If anythin', I didn't mean to interrupt your little pow-wow with her, I was merely makin' sure she was careful about her powers." In that statement, the silver lining was that he cared. He cared about her enough to pull her away and scold her for doing something she shouldn't. He just hoped the man wasn't that observant to realize that.
  
  That was when Cyrus spoke up. Saying that they shouldn't have any conversations. Noah just stuffed his hands further in his pockets and clicked his tongue at the roof of his mouth. While he can respect a fellow weapon and someone of such rank, the fact this was a DWMA hosted program and someone this cold and ruthless was going to be their mentor? Or watcher of sorts? It rubbed him the wrong way. He at least stayed silent throughout. Even through the demonstration of his abilities by sensing someone that wasn't even there to now there being someone, who promptly got his ass handed to him. Noah just smirked, a wicked grin that showed he actually did enjoy watching people destroy each other. Still, that grin didn't last very long as Cyrus promptly got Midori under control and spoke about what they needed to do while introducing Midori. Noah just stared at the Hoshi for a while, unsure if he should trust the man watching over anyone if he kept wanting to kill the Death Scythe.
  
  Midori was to be watching over Zosar and his group. Zosar? Noah looked over at the man, but looked quickly away as he knew how much of that kind of attention would do to someone. He was glad that Sara was there though to at least cushion some of that, as she seemed to be rather protective of him at the moment. As he went over the instructions, Noah heard there would be another person watching over the group, and also Zosar. He looked worryingly at the man. Why was he so mistrusted? It bugged him, alarm bells ringing again. He didn't know if he should trust the Death Scythe or trust that this 'Zosar' was a different man now and being singled out.
  
  He shrugged and waited to see if Kasper had anything else to say to him after that. Otherwise, he'll head to Sara.
  
  
  
  
• 
  
  
  

  Sara Middleton​

  
  Location: Lot C, near Cyrus
  Interactions: Zosar ( The Regal Rper ), Cyrus and Midori ( Sir Les Paul )
  Mentions: N/A
  

  
  As Cyrus spoke up to silence the conversations, she watched as he caught whiff of something. This Death Scythe, who smelled like autumn and chilly air - something that reminded her of chess games she'd have with her father during the season - caught someone coming near without even her smelling the intruder. Her ears immediately went up, her stance changed as she walked backwards, putting herself beside Zosar, but a little in front as she watched with caution. Her tail stilled, the furs and hairs on her tail standing on end as she slouched her shoulders. Luckily, her wavelength did not flair. No, she was just careful and cautious. She watched the impressive display of the fight, getting a little excited at watching the fight before realizing she was here for Zosar. Not for a fight. She straightened up, realizing that they were just fighting to show who was dominant. To show that they still have the skills to kill each other if this were like that.
  
  The one named Midori though, she caught wind of something earthen from him, but she still smelled all the basics of a human. Spicy. Very spicy. But then there was that wavelength flair, and she smelled something else. More of that earthen, clay scent that seemed to resonate from his soul that also smelled of magic. As well as something she's smelled as being a part of Lord Death - that of an ethereal scent that doesn't match anything she's ever smelled before as well as wreaking of death funnily enough. He was showing off, of course. The only thing she uttered to Zosar was "He's not exactly human... Or maybe I'm wrong?"
  
  Sara relaxed a bit more once Midori was under control, but then she heard Zosar. Zosar Straugg. Was that his full name? Sara looked at Zosar questioningly before looking back at Cyrus, but stayed by his side anyway because that level of attention - and after being called out twice - made him sound too dangerous and not friendly. But Zosar was friendly, so why the hostility? She can smell that while he had a rough past, she didn't think he was all that bad now. She usually had a good sense for this kind of stuff. She scowled a little and turned so her side was facing the group, her front facing Zosar as if to say 'I'm protecting him now' with her body.
  
  Considering Sara and Noah were already paired, she will wait patiently for Noah to arrive to her before they get in line. She wanted to make sure Zosar was okay first and she had enough trust that Noah wouldn't get into any trouble. The fact that not only there would be this Midori fellow, but that of another - Emira - was going to be watching over Zosar, was something that didn't sit right with her. She looked to Zosar questioningly again, but denied asking. She just huffed and stood her ground, unmoving. Even if Zosar were to move, Sara will stay obediently by his side until he tells her to do something else.
  
  Whether she listens to that or not is beyond Zosar's control though. She just wanted to make sure he didn't get hurt and she felt like a shield for all this attention - whether it was for a good reason or it was to be intentionally mean. Her soul stayed resolute, its normal jitteriness calming down to such a degree that it was almost devoid of her own hyperactive personality. She was a little pissed, and it can be seen with her gritted jaw. Still, she didn't care. She was to stay by Zosar and won't leave him now.
  
  Her tone was hushed, a whisper for Zosar's ears. "They are all treating you like a criminal. I hate it. I don't care what happened, it's all in the past now. The fact they have little trust in you is unnerving. If I am to be the only one who gives you any trust, then so be it."
  
  
  
  

 

[Sir Les Paul]

Thaddeus Thales​

"Gauss"​

Species Human
Partner None
Rank Fate Agent

Location Death City, Lot C
Mission A-01 Meeting
Status Curious, mildly intimidated

​

Mentions: @ Everyone in earshot

This... was a lot to take in. Perhaps it was his ocular Soul Perception or perhaps he just had a taste for the more refined skills they possessed, but what unfolded in front of him in what couldn't have been ten seconds was one of the most incredible feats he had ever seen. Two Autonomous Weapons alone functioning at that skill was incredible; there were Meisters that plateaued in their careers without ever achieving that. This Midori had an incredible amount gall to attack Cyrus head on, but at first glance, it seemed at least merited. That speed surpassed anything he expected from even Zosar. He was a literal blur. But, not even that. He couldn't sense that blur. There was no soul signature. No signs of a soul at all at first, actually. His approach was dead silent, too. If he wanted anyone there dead, they would have been sliced in half before the rest of the group even knew he was there.

But, that wasn't the most incredible part. Cyrus had to have known he was coming. His comment dreading it had to be connected. Cyrus somehow knew this silent, unseen force was on its way before anyone of them even had a clue. How? Gauss' mind was racing. Super Soul Perception, maybe? On a weapon? Gauss had no idea what abilities Cyrus had or if this was unique or just something plain so far out of their world they had no idea what level this occurred on. This new weapon seemed so far above them, and Cyrus seemed so far above him. Gauss had heard the stories of the DWMA Elite, everyone knew them from the textbooks, but to see this power thrown around so casually was absurd.

And, that weapon. What was he doing? Gauss was a diligent student. Every textbook, every manual, every piece of literature in Soul Studies--he knew it. But, he had no idea what that weapon was doing. Was it a weapon-exclusive ability? Was it something a Meister could learn? Was he just moving so fast he genuinely made after images? No, that couldn't be right--he couldn't be bending light. This had to be a technique. Gauss just couldn't wrap his head around it.

And, it all came to a crashing end. Gauss couldn't quite make out what was happening in that circle, but it was just a moment before Midori had his face crashed into the ground with what looked like little more effort than he used on Sara. Gauss was dumbstruck.

What followed afterwards was the introduction of Midori and some scolding. But a single name answered an amplitude of questions. Hoshi. He was a Hoshi. The Hoshi Clan. He read about them plenty, seen then them around, but he never knew any. The Hoshi didn't stay in his rank for long, so why would he get the chance to interact with them? This is what the hype was about. This is why they were considered the only family superior to the Star Clan. He had seen plenty of actual Star Clan members, not all were incredibly impressive. He had been on the dojo's plenty, too. This was a whole new level to him.

The instructions continued. Cyrus commanded a respect. Every word that poured out of his mouth just had utter finality, and they kept going. Although, Gauss was likely quite biased. He respected power, and that's what Cyrus had. Apparently enough to shitstomp someone that would kill any of them. But, even without that bias, just the way Cyrus spoke was an odd mix of belittling and progressive. There was no time to get lost. He didn't let you trip up because if you did, you would be left behind.

What they were doing made sense, though. Split the group, assign mentors. Many of them were suggested to have some type of buddy already, but Gauss wasn't about that life. He had an older sibling fill out some paperwork and moved on. Then came pairing. The weapons would choose. That was an interesting twist. One would think a Meister would choose the weapon for them. But, given the three superiors that were to be introduced, everyone above him here was a weapon. Was this some type of classism? Maybe. Or, it might have to do with their performance. In retrospect, his interaction with both Athena and Zosar was entirely unfounded.

Speaking of Zosar, he seemed to have a lot of heat on him. Was he really such a big deal? This would be an idea to return to. He didn't have a lot of time to contemplate it. Apparently, he was to be put up first for the Weapons. This had some logic to it, though. Apparently, he was the only Utility Meister. Again, made sense. He was a rare breed. Well, rhetorically; he actually had plenty of siblings. Nevertheless, he stepped forward when asked.

"Cyrus already kindly introduced me," Gauss said, address those around him and the weapons congregating to their side. One already stepped forward. A girl he was unfamiliar with. She seemed timid. Meek. In a cute way, and although meek, bold of her to come forward. "But if allowed, I would like to... illuminate more about myself. Not storytelling, but whatever might help you decide," Gauss explained, then looked to Cyrus as if asking for approval. After a delay, he nodded.

"As anyone who watched my fight with Zosar is probably aware, I possess a Unique Wavelength. Most of you probably do, too, so I'll explain mine. I have a Magnetic Wavelength; how this works is that any time I use my Wavelength for virtually anything, I generate a magnetic field. It has range, relatively short. The location, size, and intensity of that field is dictated by the amount of Wavelength I use. I accomplish this by amplifying certain muscles, typically in my extremities, to make targeted fields. It is admittedly somewhat complex and took me a while to utilize, and there is still some to learn. I have had plenty of partners and they have had little to no problem with it. You don't really have to do anything with it, aside from benefit," Gauss explained. Unlike virtually any time he was speaking before, Gauss was clear, direct, honest, and his tone lacked any of his normal wit, condescension, and obviously flirtation.

"My fighting style is typically reactive. While I can, I typically don't like to make the first move. When I do--make any move, that is--I prefer it to be impactful and final, although I'm not against wearing someone down... as some of you can probably tell. With all that in mind, I would prefer someone obviously made of metal and I'm not against unique forms or defensive nature. I typically prefer to use two drastically different weapons to adjust to a fight instead of two similar ones to synergize, but I wouldn't be opposed to either. In general, I guess I should just say I don't typically go for an all out offense or to just overwhelm someone all at once," Gauss explained, then politely stepped back and effectively bowed out, waiting for anyone else that might interest. Of course, if it was just the weapon in front of him, he would have no qualms with that either.

 

[Mqueserasera]

PRUDENCE PONTMERCY
Location: DWMA - Lot C
Mentions: Kasper ( Phayne ), Suzu Mineczka
Interaction: Cyrus, Gauss ( Sir Les Paul )​

The sound of a certain tree hitting the ground reached Prudence loud and clear, yet she did not turn to confirm the fact, for that would be giving the boy the attention he sought. He sounded like trouble. Big trouble. The worst kind. And yet it was within her expectations. For a group of mostly strangers to meet for the first time, it indeed should be expected that at least there would be one or two of the curious sort who would do anything to quickly befriend, or in some dreadful cases, to bare their heart out and then feel justified to demand the other party to do the same. Nothing more than a type of self-centered social contract. But in which case, the best course of action is simply to orbit this egotistic center, just enough to avoid being made a social outcast, yet never fully commit to the fine prints of the contract, lest one become a slave of which. So for now, she deemed it safe to merely avoid that overbearing boy, hoping that his interest would soon be forgotten among his many others. And why wouldn’t he? She was in truth, and utterly so, the most boring person to be interested in, unworthy of any kind, any passing amount of fascination one could have of a stranger.

She walked on. Sure steps and controlled pace carried her to the renowned Death Scythe, where she made a conscious effort to choose a position among the other agents that would place her as far away from Kasper as possible.

The sudden appearance of the mentor named Midori startled her, as did the man’s attempt to assault his superior. Though he was then promptly put in place. Not much to see. Prudence merely watched with mild interest. It seemed, as a not so comforting fact, that no matter at what level in DWMA, there would always be that kind of unbearable and selfish character. Though that was nothing new. That was life. That was humanity. It was almost unfair of her to expect absolute professionalism even in an organization like DWMA. It was only a mildly rude awakening. Which made her appreciate Cyrus’s no-nonsense attitude even more. Straight to the point. Without all the babysitting she had had to suffer through during therapy sessions. Death knows how sick she was of all the stupid attempts at mental treatments she had received. Therapists had looked at her like she had been some sad puppy that would burst into tears at any second over some mean words. She frankly held more respect for the kind that would prescribe some drugs and call it a day, blatantly just to get the job done or not, which she had in fact encountered more than once over the last year of on and off therapies. And Cyrus seemed to be the kind of person who cared little more than the result and proper ways of going about things, and much less whether you were doing it all happily or with a gigantic, life-affirming smile on your face or not.

Lastly, the Weapons were presented with a rare choice to be partnered with a Utility Meister. Prudence considered her options with care as he spoke. While his Magnetic Wavelength was of little concern to her. His fighting style sounded like a perfect fit for her skill set as a Shield, given how few Meisters were willing to fight defensively in the first place. This might be her chance, perhaps. Over the last year, she had not been able to resonate with any Meister for longer than a month, and though she had not a very clear idea of the underlying mechanism of a Utility Meister, perhaps his versatility in wielding Weapons could be the key to get her smoothly out of F.A.T.E. And too boost, with another Weapon to divert the Meister’s attention, her life would be that much easier. As for the person himself, Thaddeus Thales, he seemed to her a very simple man. She liked simple people. Both times she had cast her glances at him today, he had been fighting with another agent. And of course, the more he was all about beating others, the less time he should have spared to bother her. She recalled also the event from earlier when he was all too ready to punish Kasper just to score some points with the angry blonde. And this was the crucial point. She made a stealthy glance at Kasper before moving forward. That arrogant Demon Weapon who had declared his interest in her would most likely be too prideful to become the tool of someone who had participated in his humiliation no more than an hour ago. There should be no reason for hesitation then.

There was a brief moment before she began when a quick look-over was placed on the other Weapon who had stepped forward. She seemed timid, even overly so. Even if she tried, Prudence couldn’t ask for a better partner.

Facing Gauss, she addressed him in the same clear, succinct manner he had used: “Prudence Pontmercy, Tower Shield Weapon. I believe you have seen my partial transformation from earlier, that is, as a shield I'm mostly metal. Though my Weapon form can be unwieldy, it should be a good match for your fighting style, as I thrive in long, controlled battles with defined tactics and much observation to outsmart, outmaneuver and outlast my Meister’s opponents. The decision is ultimately yours to make, but it would be my pleasure to be your partner.”

 

[Sir Les Paul]

Midori☆Hoshi​

"Dark Star"​

Species Death Golem
Partner Various / Autonomous Weapon
Rank Two-Star

Location Death City, Lot C
Mission A-01 Meeting
Status Curious, anticipatory

​

Mentions: The Regal Rper Kyuubey @ anyone else behind Cyrus

Midori was perfectly content with himself. He knew he still had virtually no chance at striking Cyrus, but he didn't care. He would try again anyway. He was always getting better. Faster. Sharper. Always, with the time, training. He was on the road with the Old Ways and returned to his roots as a Hoshi, and since then it had stuck. His mind drifted off to when he first met Cyrus, at least met him and actually talked to him, and this whole vicious cycle of attempted attacks started. One-hundred and three now. All failed. At first, he couldn't even force Cyrus to parry, but at attempt eighty-two, he first heard the clang of his steel against his. Progress. It wasn't impossible.

He knew the others would be joining him soon. No one in their right mind would disregard instructions from Cyrus, especially after that. Gauss, the most prideful of the bunch, suddenly became such a delightful fellow in his presence. More like, a dog with its tail between its legs. At least he knew who his superiors were. He wondered about the rest. Seeing that display and realizing what it meant required a certain level of skill. This program wasn't inherently about skill, but salvation. It was likely many of them weren't quite ready yet to understand what transpired.

That would change if Midori had anything to say about it.

His thoughts shifted from their reminiscence once he realized Emira was finally returning. She was used to him darting off as he did, but in honesty, he never did quite like the idea of that growing distance. It had been some time since he had actually saw her anyway. Some... time.

But, there she was, in all her glory. Perhaps some may not call it that, but any soul that could kiss Cyrus and be in one piece was glorious to him.

Midori slowly crept his way over there, respectfully not trying to disturb Cyrus or the pairing process. Zosar, too, would be paired eventually. Though, Midori was told to stay behind him, so he did. Emira was never given such instructions, and rest assured, she would abuse that loophole.

"Zose, Zose... don't let her fool you, pal. I'd kill you quick, at least. She'd have you bawling on the ground begging for sweet release," Midori said, his voice somewhat hushed, but at least audible to those he neared. "Though, she is right. You'll want your own weapon. I've been given instructions for your training, so before you could even wield her for a few minutes, you'll need a stand in as we whip you into shape," he added. His dark eyes then fell to Emira. He had just seen her, but given they were separated in different spheres, it wasn't for long. That face. Again... some time.

"Speaking of whips and shapes... Emira, you've grown your hair. It's nice. I'm a little surprised Cyrus would put us on the same mission... or are you here to get an update on me?" he said, asking a question, but slipping in his typical sly comments in between his more serious comments. "If so, I can already tell you... nothing has changed since the last time. My loyalties are still the same," he explained. A double entendre, if ever there was one. His tone made it sound like he was trying to reassure his loyalty to Kidd, which he was. Forever grateful for the new life he had. The new freedom. But as always, tone doesn't always carry the correct message.

 

[EmperorsChosen]

Daniella Ethalyn | DWMA Lot C
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
​

As the group gathered, the Death Scythe Cyrus went ahead and explained how the whole process would go, after telling everyone to promptly shut up. This was not before another appeared and proceeded to try and kill him. Dani looked up at her mentors in a deadpan. This was who was going to be watching them? The Death Scythe seemed like he could give a shit less about being here and the other guy--Well, he just tried to kill one of their own in broad daylight.

"The. Fuck."

Watching the display with some annoyance. Eventually the show got on the road and the explanation was given. Of course, they would be pairing now. The pink-haired girl didn't have an interest in teaming with anyone, but given that she wasn't all that trained to work autonomously, she predicted that was the direction she would be pushed toward. So, rather than choosing a legitimate partner, Dani would be better off choosing the lesser of evils.

Still, there were other notes of interest in the speech. Namely were the mentions of Gauss and Zosar. It seemed the both of them were some kind of bigshots, though Gauss for apparent different reasons than Zosar considering only one of them was being watched like a serial killer. Her eyes drifted over to the aforementioned social butterfly, who seemed to be speaking with the berserk wolf from earlier, as well as the unhinged mentor and a new pink-haired girl.

The hell did he do?

Pondering that thought for a few moments, Gauss stepped forward and introduced himself. Dani turned her attention to him, but given her scowling face she neither cared all that much for his words nor bought this sudden air of professionalism. He could use two, and apparently already had one taker. One of the woman stepped up, naming herself a shield and offering to partner. Dani couldn't help but let out a light huff, simply for the fact that a sword was typically paired with a shield--And out of most everyone, that playboy was one of the people she certainly did not want to deal with.

She still had time since Gauss was getting his pod sorted first. However, since the burden of choice fell on the weapons, Dani knew that she would soon be made to make a decision that she didn't want. Looking around, she didn't know any of these people. Then again, maybe that was for the best. So what if they swung her around. That didn't mean she had to actually connect with them.

For now, she'd bide her time and wait. As it stood, she knew of Gauss, Zosar, and Nadia. The first was a no if she could help it. Zosar was nice; perhaps too nice. It would be difficult to stay at arms length if he always acted so friendly. Then there was all the other baggage surrounding him, meaning partnering him also meant dealing with that psychopath mentor. Nadia was peculiar. Whether that was the okay kind or bad kind remained to be seen, though some of her comments were suspect to Dani, as a Demon Weapon.

Mentions: @Around