Masks 2

Name: Torilyr Uniar

Date of Birth: Sometime during the last years of the 19th century

Place of Birth: Vane-Larin, a fae city sequestered in a rift in the Appalachians.

Place of Residence: Most of the time, Torilyr travels around the various fae realms seeking information. He has just enough wealth to be allowed to poke around various places of learning, at least for a time, which has contributed to his current cache of secrets.

He has a small home, however, in Arcatorq, a fae city with its entrances located in the mountains of Wyoming. It is a sizeable backwater town, founded fairly recently by fae standards. Torilyr isn't the only resident who rarely returns home.

Appearance: Torilyr is a tall fae with a harsh face and long, black hair. Owns a set of ceremonial mages' robes, but mostly goes around in hardy clothes suited to travelling around between pocket dimensions and delving into forgotten places.

Personality: Torilyr is driven and determined to a slightly frightening degree. He's focused on acquiring power to achieve the dreams of his people and, even moreso, himself – claiming this world, and breaking the grip the humans have on it, no matter the cost. He wants to be the greatest mage in history. He seeks ancient magical secrets, and will stop at nothing to achieve ultimate power.

Powers, Skills, and/or Resources: As of right now, he's a skilled fae mage. His fae magic skills include magical illusions, concealment and glamour, as well as magic granting preternatural strength, speed or reflexes.

His power is soon to massively increase in a new way, as he acquires the Old Magic of his ancestors and embraces it at its rawest and darkest. The powers he gain will be tied to the magical alterations that will turn his soul into a magical conduit, capable of granting him the powers of ideal shapeshifting – making him capable of transmuting his flesh into durable living metal, effectively shapeshifting his wounds closed to rapidly heal, and transforming into monstrous and deadly forms at will – as well as blasting things with energy, levitating and flying, throwing people around, warping the land around him and playing with the souls of those who allow themselves to become ensnared.

By telling him their real names freely or accepting a gift from him, for example, victims may unwittingly giving him power over them. He could steal their names and memories, potentially replace them with fake names and memories tied to the loss of their real name, as well as alter their physical forms, give them commands they cannot disobey in his presence... things that could coerce them into serving him, or which could be used to grant them gifts and ensure their loyalty. The power he has over them fades after a year and a day, though the actual effects such as false memories or transformation remain until broken or reversed.

As he grows in power, the very earth at his feet will become tainted and twisted wherever he steps. With effort, he can gradually turn the land around him blighted, twisting and fortifying it with spikes and dark clouds, potentially twisting it further to fill with ash and magma flows as he gains more power. In this cursed land, his powers are more potent, and his foes' magic will be more capricious and chaotic. He will also be able to gain a burst of power, to suddenly change a swathe of land or wield as a sudden burst of energy in combat, by siphoning life energy from someone whose soul he has power over nearby.

Biography: Torilyr is a North American fae, and a firm follower in the destiny of reclamation that consumes their political thought. He was born to a minor aristocratic family of mages, and was raised by his aunt Thintiel, the matriarch of the family. His parents were scarce visitors in his youth, as they were travelling warriors who had dedicated their lives as a couple to the eternal war of the fae against all who stood between them and their destined future. He followed in his ancestors' footsteps in studying fae magic. His early years learning under his first master, Erym, led to him taking an interest in history and magical theory. Over time he gained an impressive understanding of magical secrets, and a desire to take that knowledge out in the eternal quest to secure an empire for the North American fae.

His second master and primary mentor, Melthryth, nurtured this quest. Her own life story features dead parents resulting in an eternal enmity with vampires, and so she dedicated herself to their ruination. She encouraged her student Torilyr to go forth and seek powerful artefacts to use as weapons against the enemies of the fae, vampires first and foremost, while refusing to spare any time herself on searching that could instead be spent vampire hunting. With her guidance and tuition, Torilyr learned to be an accomplished and knowledgable mage, though he never managed to master sword-magic as his teacher had.

Over the years, Torilyr got through with a mix of family money, taking on his own students and soliciting investments in his research – and research he did, hunting ancient secrets and any trace of the Old Magic. Over time, he became dedicated to this ambition, viewing it as the only path that could bring him the power he so desires. It has become a driving force, a source of iron determination, and an overriding goal in his life. And the eternal wars of the fae have left their mark on him – though he never had a frontline role in the conflicts, the harsh ideals of fae life have hardened his heart.

He was far from the only one. Searching for ancient secrets may not be the most crowded field in fae society, but enough fellow scholars and magi walk the world looking for cracks into fragments of the old world that they rub shoulders and create rivalries. In his petty discoveries to date, Torilyr made a couple of foes, but his rival emerged in Taiaroth, a fellow student of Melthryth who likewise had been drawn into the field by her exhortations. Taiaroth and Torilyr earned each others' grudging respect for their knowledge and magical skill, but it did not soften the competition between them. Taiaroth wanted to be the one to make that big breakthrough, and he competed with Torilyr at every turn. Torilyr, of course, competed just as bitterly – they fought over patrons and leads, and when the big one came up, they both raced off to be the first to bring it back.

Now, with the strongest lead he's ever had, accompanied by an apprentice and a fellow wanderer, he has trekked into a forgotten shard of the old world, racing against his rival for an ancient relic – one that could finally have his research bear fruit, and unlock the secrets of the Old Magic...

Friends, Family, Acquiantances, Rivals, Enemies, and anybody else:
Melthryth Vilthim – Torilyr's second master and most respected teacher. Her teachings allowed him to reach the heights he has today. She is a master of fae magic, coupling illusions and trickery with being an incredibly skilled, magically-enhanced swordswoman. She doesn't teach so much any more, having dedicated herself to a one-woman crusade against the vampires. The fact that this hasn't killed her yet is a testament to her skill.

Erym-Kuliol – Torilyr's first master and a highly knowledgable scholar of advanced age. Less of a practical mage and more of a man of learning, Erym hasn't spoken to Torilyr in a long time, but Torilyr still remembers him fondly. He recently retired.

Taiaroth – Torilyr's rival in the hunt for ancient magic. He also found clues that led to the current discovery, and at this point Torilyr can't recall who exactly stole which parts of the research from whom. It's to the point where any reasonable person would basically consider finding this place a joint effort.

Thintiel Uniar – Torilyr's aunt and primary parental figure. She's a harsh woman, a petty aristocrat, and a retired enchanter-mage who used to create magically armoured cloaks for the army of Vane-Larin. From a young age, she was focused on toughening him up to be the best mage he could be and achieve great things for the family. She would have preferred Torilyr to be a proper warrior-mage or enchanter, and disapproves of his obsession with “petty archaeology”.

Myelnen Uniar – Torilyr's mother. Fae warrior-mage, part of a fighting couple with her husband. As the youngest amongst her siblings, she is yet to retire. She visited sparingly in Torilyr's youth and, to this day, is in contact with him infrequently at best. He doesn't even know where she is. Kinder and less harsh than her sister Thintiel, but her tendency to distance herself from her son is obvious.

Alciran – Torilyr's father. Soldier, part of a fighting couple with his wife. Wasn't really involved in Torilyr's upbringing, and instead sends his son encouraging letters about how proud of him he is from time to time. This is pretty much the only contact Torilyr has with him these days.

Extended family members: Torilyr had more family members: an uncle, an aunt, and several cousins.

Name: William de Raynes

Aliases: High Priest of the Vrellfytch Congregation, The Worldly Extension of Vrellfytch

Date of Birth: April 19th, 1994 (missing since Ragnarok)

Place of Birth: A tiny city from the midwestern US from before Armageddon that no longer exists, so who cares.

Place of Residence: New Orleans!

Appearance: William has changed. He stands at a tall 6'6", and has large and evident muscles. His face is sculpted and sharp, all angles from his jaw to his nose. He has scruffy, shaggy red-blonde hair, dark brown eyes that could be a warm maroon, and a easy smile. However, his skin appears to be covered in almost completely healed scars, from all sorts of wounds ranging from cuts to holes to torn up skin. In addition, there is a massive, jagged scar hidden by his clothing. It stretches from the bottoms of his shoulders to the top of his pelvis, a vicious, blood red X of healed scar tissue that criss-crosses over the entirety of his front. Despite these wounds, however, William stands tall and strong, as though the scars covering his form didn't even exist. He doesn't even look a day over 21. William's clothing typically consists of 'street clothes', things like dark colored t-shirts, jeans or shorts, and simple sandals. There is, however, an article of clothing he has that stands out. William wears a worn, custom made navy blue cloak. There are clasps sewn into the inside of the cloak so that it can be closed up from the inside, hiding William's body and arms. In addition there are four sheathes, all filled with custom ceremonial daggers, and a handful of hidden pockets.

Personality: Outwardly, William is a nice person. He is patient and likes to chat. He's the kind of person you want to sit down with in a coffee shop to catch up with if you haven't seen each other in a few months. He seems serene, almost, as if he's come to terms with the awfulness in his life and has become all the better for it.

There's a reason for these traits, however. Being linked to an unknowable conscious from another dimension that cannot be understood has skewed William's sense of time, which is where his patience comes from. He wholly desires to bring others under the fold of Vrellfytch, causing his enjoyment of talking. And he has found his purpose in serving Vrellfytch, thus prompting his serenity. In addition, it is not as if the old William is completely gone. He is still a strange blend of masochistic and sadistic, with a sickening fascination for causing and receiving pain. He still strongly values personal strength, and he still has his moments of hotheaded ruthlessness. This leads to moments of intense violence from the man, who reacts with little more than a serene smile.

William is different now, and yet he's still the same in the end.

Powers, Skills, and/or Resources:

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Eldritch Conduit - As the last member of the Vrellfytch Congregation, and the only living link Vrellfytch has to Earth, William has power beyond measure. His body acts as a gateway to an alternate reality, through which Vrellfytch is able to act. Any opening on William's body, from his natural nostrils and mouth to the pores in his skin to artificial openings like cuts and holes, can function as a gateway for Vrellfytch. Tongues, eyes, mouths, teeth, tentacles, and even entire limbs can manifest from these openings. William has complete control over these parts, and can do with them as he wishes. In addition, this ability allows William to commune with Vrellfytch from across the dimensional veil, and allows William to find out what Vrellfytch needs.

Let the Rivers Run Red - William has become fully linked with Vrellfytch, physically and mentally, and has become more than a simple human. However, such power requires spectacle, and that spectacle is blood. The more blood that flows from William's wounds, the stronger he becomes, and the larger and more dangerous his Vrellfytch parts become. In addition, his link with Vrellfytch allows William to bleed for an indefinite ammount of time, and he is not affected by bloodloss. When the bleeding is stemmed, William heals quickly, as the wounds inflicted upon him are no more than a microscopic nick on the flesh of Vrellfytch.

New Maw of Vrellfytch - Vrellfytch hungers, and must be sated. William needs to consume the flesh of sentient beings in order to feed Vrellfytch. Consuming said beings affords William temporary enhanced strength and speeds up his healing. While Vrellfytch's diet has up until now consisted of humans, it has heard of those outside the realm of humanity, and considers itself interested.

Linked By Blood - A final power, awakened by the intimate connection between William and Vrellfytch. William may allow others a connection to Vrellfytch, just as he has. What it requires is a ritual, in which the chosen person must cut out a part of their own body, and shall take in William's own blood. However, there are requirements. The person must have heard the voice of Vrellfytch, who can communicate through mouths spawned on William. The person must perform the removal process on their own, with only supervision from William. The person must fully believe in Vrellfytch's power. And finally, the person must be mortal, and may not have any link to any other 'supernatural' beings. Those who fail the first three requirements and are human painfully perish once the ritual is complete, and their body is to be consumed by William so that Vrellfytch may add to itself. It is unknown what happens to those who are immortal or otherworldly and partake in the ritual, though William would be lying if he said he didn't have his interest piqued...

Biography: And it is through him that Vrellfytch shall inherit the Earth.

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William's early life was boring. It was the story of a pathetic boy who had to get physically stronger in order to weather the hardships of his young life. And yet he was still weak, and ran away from his problems instead of facing them. And so he spent his days traveling, looking for a place to call home when he knew deep down that he'd never find it. And then he made it to New Orleans.

The city itself was far from notable, nothing more than a superstitious cesspool of gentrification and class divide that masqueraded as an entertaining party city. William had settled down in a run down apartment in the shitty part of New Orleans, and was moving to make some money so he could keep traveling. However, the city was home to something William had never been prepared to understand. A choice encounter led to William meeting the Vrellfytch Congregation, and he had become enamored, going so far as to rend his flesh and bone so he could remove his own heart in the name of the god trapped at the bottom of the ocean in another dimension. He was an intense devotee of Vrellfytch the Indomitable, and planned to do all he could for the Congregation.

William's devotion was cut short. During one of his first missions for the Congregation, William was intercepted and subdued by some sort of holy warrior, easily stopping his conquest of a simple church. He was restrained, captured, and shipped away to a prison meant to hold those like him, those who defied the tenants followed by those like the holy warrior. They kept him chained up in blessed metal, imprisoned in a sanctified cage to rot until they could figure out how to deal with one such as him. It seemed like this was the end for William de Raynes, cursed (or blessed?) to spend the rest of his life locked up until he could be safely disposed of. Even William himself believed that this was the end of the line.

And then Ragnarok happened.

The holy prison William was restrained in was thrown into pandemonium as the dead surged through its halls, overseen by angels of destruction. William's own cell was invaded, his chains broken and his cage defiled so as to make it possible to approach and kill him. And yet that was exactly what William wanted. Now freed from the things restraining his power, William carved a swathe of destruction through the ranks of the undead and the holy warriors alike, a power unlike any he had ever felt surging through him. He broke free of the holy prison and escaped, running to hide from the invulnerable creatures that swooped through the skies and commanded the dead as their soldiers. William wasn't sure how long he was hidden, or even where he was, but managed to survive, easily able to defeat the corpses that the angels commanded.

Then, time stopped, and William found himself face to face with God.

Their conversation was unimportant and short, but it basically confirmed what William had known. He was not going to Heaven. That was fine with him. What was Heaven, really, if he had no need to go there? After all, he was sure he could find a way to extend his lifespan, what with his growing connection to Vrellfytch that was growing far stronger than William had expected. And yet he accepted this strength with open arms. But it was a few days after the Visitation, after having spent time wandering aimlessly, that William received his biggest surprise.

There was a voice in his head, one he was very familiar with, and yet had not heard in a long, long time. Vrellfytch's voice rung throughout his skull like a shattered bell, intense and commanding, yet quiet enough that he had to strain to hear. Vrellfytch spoke to him, and laid out the stakes. William was told the horrible truth: the Vrellfytch Congregation was dead. All vital members were slain in Ragnarok by the manifestations of God's subconscious, save one. William de Raynes. That was the reason for William's newfound powers: with the other members of the Congregation slain, William alone was able to receive Vrellfytch's power. Thus, it was William alone who could revive the Vrellfytch Congregation. And to do that, Vrellfytch would offer him a boon that had never before been offered to a mortal. Vrellfytch would link itself to William, both in body and soul. They would become one, two bodies of the same being across different dimensions. William would inherit power unimaginable, and all he had to do was rebuild the Congregation and continue its original plan. And William would never have said no.

They became one, and suddenly, William could see far more than he ever could have imagined would be visible. He saw experiences from Olivia and Leon, former members of the Congregation, things he was not there to see. He felt them die, the excruciating pain of their separation from Vrellfytch. He also saw a world not unlike Earth. He saw living beings being swept into mouths by the thousands, an all consuming force tearing through humanity like a hot knife through butter. Then, he felt the cold sensation of being forced through water, the sting of magic and the weight of technology, pushing him down, down, down, until he felt himself impact something. It was cold on top, omnipresent water, and hot on the bottom, the mantle begging to be let through the crust to show Vrellfytch what consumption felt like. William felt time pass, experienced eons of the same thing: of cold on top and hot on the bottom, of being crushed and not dying. And then he felt himself reaching through something that was not quite time and not quite space, and then... he was back into his own body, and he found himself in a familiar place, sort of.

William was back in the United States, and the world was different. He was back in familiar territory.

William had been changed by the experience of becoming Vrellfytch. He understood now, they had common ground. Being restrained by those you were to defeat, imprisoned when you were only doing what was supposed to be done. Punished for following the rightful order, punished for making others see what the truth was. But William was a changed man, and Vrellfytch was smarter for it. For just as William experienced Vrellfytch, so did Vrellfytch experience William. It better understood humanity, and knew that there were things it had never perceived before. Things that would make a good meal.

Thus, the pair of beings, now one existence stretched across two bodies and two dimensions, made their way to the city of New Orleans. Their plan was simple: do what had to be done. After all, Vrellfytch hungered.

Friends, Family, Acquiantances, Rivals, Enemies, and anybody else:

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Vrellfytch the Indomitable, the All-Consuming - A being whose true form is nigh impossible for the average human to understand. It takes the form of a mass of body parts that humans can comprehend, though it is never fully visible. Vrellfytch currently exists on Earth in a parallel universe, one in which Vrellfytch consumed almost all of the life in the solar system. It was eventually trapped in a last ditch effort by the stragglers of humanity at the bottom of the ocean, using a combination of advanced magical and technological means, and spent time immeasurable trapped there. However, it managed to gather up enough of its power to reach across the dimensional veil, contacting humans on the Earth everybody is familiar with. From there, it moved to form the Vrellfytch Congregation, a group intent on bringing Vrellfytch across the dimensional veil into this world, so that it may feast forever more.

William and Vrellfytch have a very interesting bond. As William is the last surviving member of the Vrellfytch Congregation, and Vrellfytch has spent far more time connected to this dimension, Vrellfytch was able to do something it wasn't able to do before, and 'link' itself to William. As such, William is now part of Vrellfytch, for better or for worse. The two can be considered a single being stretched across two dimensions, for they have an intimate connection due to their bonding.

The Vrellfytch Congregation - An old organization dedicated on bringing the otherworldly Vrellfytch over the dimensional veil into the current Earth. However, they were slaughtered during Ragnarok, aside from William, who had been apprehended and was elsewhere. William survived Ragnarok and returned to New Orleans, where the Vrellfytch Congregation was formerly held. It is now being rebuilt by the sole member: William de Raynes.

Name: Sam Houston Russell
Aliases: Blackstar, Armory, Quickdraw, Spur, "Lonestar2" (REALLY DISLIKES BEING CALLED THAT ONE)
Date of Birth: May 16th, 2024.
Place of Birth: Eagle Pass, TX.
Place of Residence: Humble Hope Trailer Park, just south outside the walls of Megacity Houston.

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MEGACITY HOUSTON -
A dense and massive urban sprawl, Megacity Houston towers into the sky, through a massive cloud of smog. Above the smog, circular metal plates support gleaming towers and high-income neighborhoods, featuring wonderful botanical gardens, some of which home species both new and the last of their kind. Various large Pyramid glass greenhouses house other gardens of plants, some designed to support tropical plants while others support plants of other biomes, the gardens produced by a non-profit foundation that various megacorps invest in for tax write-offs but none really control. At the edges of the plates (and installed into the peaks of the highest towers, various air filters and Atmospheric Regulation Devices keep the smog from choking out the upper city, pushing it onto neighboring areas and the lower city below.

Middle Houston is a series of older, less habitable plates. These plates are partially in smog but middle-class community-funded initiatives have started producing ways to push off or mitigate the smog themselves. Some have done this by constructing domes above their plates, other have implimented a (slightly imperfect) air filtering system to push the smog below, while other plates are in the process of simply being abandoned. The latter is surprisingly rare - these plates were expensive to build and some megacorps still believe their investments haven't been paid back in full quite yet. Also classed into Middle Houston are the massive support beams of the columns themselves- these are also capable of supporting communities, though you (mostly) lack amenities such as parks and spend most of your life indoors. Amazon notably operates a vertical shipping business out of the largest support column.

Lower Houston is the base of the columns and the ruins of the old city around and beneath them. Lower Houston is riddled with smog, pollution, and, in some areas, flood waters from failing floodwalls and rain leaking in from below. There ARE some sections of the Lower City that aren't constantly enshadowed by the plates above - but even then, they don't see much sun through the smog. If anything, these sections are the worst flooded due to torrential acid rain. Sparse communities manage to dot the Lower City but for the most part it's uninhabitable. The only officially recognized communities here tend to be in the bases of the pillars (heavily policed, they're also surrounded by factories and less-livable slums), at the Walls of the city (criminal populations in the lower city, ironically, tend to gather here, to help run smuggling operations), and near the Docks.

The Houston Seaport is basically an extension of Lower Houston, however, there's an extensive (and fairly new) complex that extends under the ocean, housing business offices and high-end houses for those who either operate shipping businesses or just "like the aesthetic of the sea." On the edge between the port and the rest of the lower city is a thriving Red-Light District, and the various criminal elements of the city have been employing their own experimental, sometimes dangerous ways of making the smog-filled, toxic hell of the Lower City habitable.

Neo Galveston is an artifical island on the approximate spot of Galveston island. The island was largely flooded and washed out (being a sandbar) before the Megacity was properly completed, but the efforts of the super-rich and whimsical saved part of the city, and, when the Megacity started producing Megaprofits, that remnant was expanded to an aproximation of it's "former glory." Most of the island is actually historically accurate to what Galveston looked like at its peak. A portion of the city is even designed to represent what it looked like prior to the the Great Storm of 1900. While the large majority of the city is historically educational and of cultural importance for the state, it's main draw is as a resort city for the super rich. The skies are sunny and clear but only due to forcefields and an artifical atmosphere, all created with state-of-the-art technology. The rich enjoy the various beach resorts, the clear (filtered) sea waters, and the ability to boat on seas that aren't polluted and miserable. The skies above and the oceans around the city-resort are heavily patrolled by contracted security services. Tampering with either the dome or the sea-filtering-border is a shoot on sight offense. On the north outside part of the coast, however, is a small community of researchers working for the city and various science companies, who both help maintain the dome and research the seas around it. It includes a naval gate into the dome, in case ships ever need access inside.

Outer Houston - Not even a recognized part of the megacity, there are several sprawling, miserable suburbs outside the city gates. There is a total of ONE that isn't a horrible shithole (near the main gate, to provide a home for security services and their family), the others are miserable Trailer Parks, Tenement Blocks, Junk Miles (junkyards consisting of a cubic mile of junk, extending into subterranean floors down as far as possible, with the junk divided into lots for intrepid scavengers to peruse), the occasional (derelict and active) space ports, and, to be detailed below, "Death Swamps." Most people residing in the communities outside the city either help maintain the wall or work what factories couldn't even afford to operate inside of the Houston.

Death Swamps - The various science corporations are working hard at making new species of plants and animals that can both survive the planet's new atmosphere AND be wildly profitable! The success rate of those projects are- slim, actually. Sometimes, rather than killing these creatures and plants, they sell them on the black market instead. And when people are scammed into buying something awful or useless, they usually just dump it either into Lower Houston or into the swamps around it. As such, parts of the swamps surrounding Houston are teeming with Megaflora, dangerous fauna, and mutated variants of both.

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Species examples -
Megajuana - a species of hemp plant that grows huge. Now the weed is legal, the government doesn't really care about keeping this species in check. Which is a problem, because it grows notoriously wildly everywhere it is allowed to do so. If left unchecked long enough, it will even form tree-trunk thick stalks.

Weedfrogs - A wide variety of Death Swamp flora and fauna were made to mimic or incorporate popular drugs, and Weedfrogs are genetic modification of the Cane Toad, a species of amphibian which were horribly invasive to Australia a few centuries back. The company, however, was a startup, went bankrupt, and just dumped their frogs into the swamp. These frogs exploded in population and are NOTORIOUS for being susceptible to accelerated mutation. Some varieties are more intense, some are toxic, some grow large enough to eat human beings. They are both a menace and a commodity, as licking favorable strains has become the black market drug of choice for the lower classes. Meth, by comparison, is less popular now, and even Meth Two failed to become more popular than the Weedfrog.
"They're like pets I can get high from!" - Blind Pete.

Plastic Slime - Large, slime-like colonies of bacteria that operate as one larger creature. Plastic Slimes live mostly dormant in bodies of water, but go out of their way to consume whatever plastics come their way. However, they CAN consume living and organic matter, and will do so if they are attached to plastics. They are generally called "Blobs" by the explorers of Death Swamps, and are rightfully feared. If they don't kill you, whatever you encounter after stripping yourself of all your plastic-related gear likely will.

Tunaconda - A successful genetic cross of anacondas and tuna, made by Sunkist to replace failing tuna farming efforts. While the creation of the species was successful, the scientists failed to account for how big they'd become. Tunacondas get massively large. Not only that, but they have both gills and lungs, meaning they can stay underwater as long as possible, and they move with impossible speed. Many an unfortunate explorer's last sight is their silver scales. The Tunaconda was abandoned by Sunkist in favor of the Tunatoad, but the species has thrived in the wild.

MegaNutria - Nutria, the largest North American rodent, was considered at one point to be a potential source of food for families too poor to afford even synthetic meats. However, it turns out nobody likes having to subsist off of rodent. While some factory-farms for them still exist, far more exist in the wild, where they've grown to be the size of boars. While they're non-hostile for the most part, they can gnaw through concrete and panic easily.

SUPERBOARS - No one knows who created the SUPERBOAR. No one can figure out what company copyrighted the name SUPERBOAR. All anyone knows is that there's wild boar the size of horses out there, and while they can eat anything they have a preference for eating people. Some have even been spotted with cybernetic enhancements, rumored to be the result of failed attempts by PMCs to turn them into weapons of war.

Steelsilk Spiders - These spiders, genetically made to make a hardier silk with more industrial applications, somehow got out into the wild. While they themselves are harmless, their webs are deadly, and are the reason why you can't ride hovercraft through a Death Swamp.

Chromatic Sunflowers - Also called "neon" sunflowers, these sunflowers were, at first, just genetically altered to have flashy chromatic petals. This variant can still be bought to be grown in gardens. However, companies bought the rights to the plant and altered it more. First, they made prefer polluted air. Then, they made it prefer polluted water. Then, they made it produce more blooms. Then, they made it form clusters of stalks for even MORE flowers. Finally, some company outdid them all - The Monsanto Chromaflower was a variety of sunflower with chromatic, multicolored petals, thick clusters of stalks, pest-repellant leaves, self-pollenating blooms, pollen that smells like AXE body spray, and the capability to thrive in polluted environments. This made the perfect invasive species, and the fields and clearings in and around the Death Swamps are choked in them. Their only predator is humans, though some other mutation-prone species are adapting to eat them, no prevelant creatures have filled that gap in the food chain just yet. Spring in the Death Swamps aren't just horribly humid, they're choked in shitty-cologne scented clouds of pollen.

Crawfathers - Crawdads that were genetically altered to be bigger. That's it, so one would think they're not dangerous, but 'bigger' in this case means 'the size of a hippo.' They can be picked out thanks to large muddy mounds that result of them digging dens on the banks of water or in muddy fields.  They're omnivorous, so they'll try to catch anything that wanders near their holes. They also have the fortunate side effect of eating hazardous waste, and they filter pollutants out of any water they drink. Unfortunately, that means these materials build up in their bodies, making their corpses and blood highly toxic and dangerous.

Appearance: Sam is slightly taller than average, with black hair and naturally tan skin, and often dresses in trendy Textro fashion, which includes long-sleeved plaid shirts, bolo ties, faux-leather belts (with a fancy buckle), jeans (colors other than blue are more popular among the youth), and cowboy boots. His bolo tie clasp and belt buckle are silver with stars of polished jet set into them. He sports a black cowboy hat and is clean shaven, having just stopped sporting a poorly-considered mustache. 

Biography:

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Sam is one of two children of the former Texas (anti)hero Lonestar, conceived right before Lonestar was pressured by megacorps to effectively retire from the hero business, thanks to his vocal support of oppressed and native peoples of Texas, after a protest of a pipeline through the Kickapoo reservation near Eagle Pass, TX. His mother, Jaqueline "Jaqui" Ochoa, was another activist, one with older ties to the scene than Lonestar (who had been "awakened to Justice" about five years prior and was a little misguided in his support of native peoples). His childhood was comfortable and rather uneventful, even when his parents split when he was ten, mostly because the split was extremely amicable. He and his brother would spend summers with their father 'adventuring' around Texas, and the rest of the year attending a private school under watch of their mother. Eventually, however, Jaqui pissed off the megacorps again, helping reveal a story of how Megacorps were involved with the rampant disappearances of native people in a plot to claim imminent domain on their land. As sources and journalists involved in the plot began to disappear, a worried Lonestar offered to take up guns again for his ex, but she declined, telling him 'not to go back to being an idiot.' Using contacts from UT's Paradimensional Research Division, she cobbled together a personal transport device to another dimension habitable for human life. Eventually, when a Megacorp hitman blew up the car she was in, she used that as cover to fake her death. Using equipment she had researchers smuggle over there for her, she contacted her family, letting them know that she was not only ok, but had made a fascinating discovery- finding evidence of early human civilizations in ruins about the dimension. So she's been over there since, researching the ruins and waiting for the heat from the Megacorps to blow over. She calls her family once a year.
In his late teens, Sam decided to, against his father's advice, join a mercenary team with his brother James Bowie. As the Sons of Houston, they took on (mostly) anti-Corp jobs. However, his brother developed a bit of a secessionist mindset (thinking that if Texas could be made to secede, Megacorp influence could be tossed out more easily.) As such, a rift between the two formed, and they parted ways. Now, Sam operates with two of his former team mates and a couple new friends, taking occasional odd-jobs to build up funds as they need them, picking their jobs carefully. They might not do work for the megacorps, but sometimes they still need to track down lucrative species of Weedfrog from the Death-Swamps for Mega Houston's criminal elements, when times get tough.

Abilities:
Advanced Proficiency Gun - Sam can instantly master the use of any fire arm or projectile weapon he lays his hands on. He knows how to aim, reload, and fire it almost by instinct.

Super Accuracy - Sam is uncannily accurate. This extends to thrown objects. Many a dart-throwing contest ended in heated arguments between him and his brother.

Dudetime- When attacked, time seems to slow down for Sam, allowing him to think through his reactions or get out of the way.

Enhanced Reflexes - Honestly, mostly an extension of the above.

Dad Money - Gene is well, well off. He and Sam are on good terms, so Sam sometimes gets him to help a little with rent, or groceries. He won't buy weapons or 'business' related supplies for Sam, wanting to stay off the Megacorps' radar for now. Sam tries to remain self-sufficient.

Possessions:
Guns Guns Guns - Sam has built up a personal armory of kinetic, laser, and various other fire arms and explosives, which he keeps in a secure locker in his trailer. The locker is so well armored that it would probably be the only possession of his to survive if the park ever deconstructs his trailer.

Trailer Central: Sam's trailer, which is located in Humble Hope. Humble Hope is, like most modern trailer parks, a large skeletal steel structure with spaces that loading elevators can install 3D-Printed trailers that are rented out to tenants. If anyone misses a payment or disappears, the trailer is uninstalled and lowered into a deconstruction machine, which is actually capable of deconstructing any non-living, non-human matter. As such, your possessions are destroyed as well, so the company doesn't have to worry about selling them. They normally loot the trailers before hand, anyways, might as well get something out of your tenants.

Friends, Family, Acquiantances, Rivals, Enemies, and anybody else:

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NAME - Gene "Lonestar" Russell
DESCRIPTION - Doesn't need much introduction. Gene was the gun-toting antihero of the Alien War. He tends to play up his participation, mostly because he does remember doing more than he actual did. Gene is prone to hyperbole, something that proved surprisingly useful after he retired, when he started, out of mourning for the "Lost American West", writing series of Western and Sci-Fi Western books. These books often stress the beauty of the natural West and its people, before society "destroyed it." Sometimes, this comes across as a general appreciation for nature, othertimes, it comes across as fetishizing the indigineous peoples of the country. Gene has developed a healthy trend of being open to criticism of his work and promising to do better, but, as his ex-wife would agree, he still has a lot to learn. He secretly opposes the Megacorps but doesn't publicly act on it to keep himself and his family out of danger. He makes a fortune off of royalties for his books, which have been adapted to several hit streaming series and films. A virtual-reality adaption of his big sci-fi classic, THREE GUN MOON, is in the works. The story details a conflict on a lunar ranch, on which there are only three guns, between three opposing militias. The hero, in the end, takes the second gun from his rival (who died taking a bullet for him), and outguns the evil monopolistic ranch mogul with his power of HAVING TWO GUNS. His stories are super popular, but nobody said they were written well. Currently operates The Lonestar Museum and Public Library - which operates as a museum to not only his but various Texas heroes' careers, with a small library composing mostly of Westerns, books of Texas history, and books on the American West. Somehow has a couple actually-rare books, which he's had a special vault installed to store at proper temperatures and humidity. It's built on a plate in Middle Houston, and he refuses to relocate. The plate, the Margaret Lea, is just below the upper plates, and has had a glass dome with an - outdated- virtual sky depicted in the interior. Sometimes the clouds glitch out or celestial bodies get stuck in place. A solar lamp is mounted to a mechanical track to imitate the rise and setting of the sun.


NAME - Jaqueline "Jaqui" Ochoa

DESCRIPTION - Jaqui was an activist for Native American rights, as well for the rights of all oppressed people of color, for a good decade before she met Gene Russell, who had been an activist for all about half that time. Unlike Jaqui, Gene took the term "activist" literally, being active but not actually properly researching his points. Still, she found him charming, and when he managed to stop a police firing line from shooting a bunch of unarmed protestors (by leading them into a standoff against himself), she saw a good man beneath all the ignorance. At least, she thought she did. And for a while, things were good for them. They got a nice trailer, Gene found a 'talent' for writing fiction, and they raised a couple children together. Still, for all his good intentions, Gene had a habit of speaking/acting first and learning later. Eventually, Jaqui found this taking a toll on her patience and eating away at their relationship. She finally talked to him about it, and he... Was surprisingly receptive. Actually caring for her, he told her he'd support whatever she had to do for her own sake, which they decided was amicably seperating. He'd take the kids for the summers (which she would spend doing more demanding activist work), and she'd take them for the rest of the year, being a better influence for the boys' education. Eventually, as detailed in the bio, she had to jump into another dimension to avoid a Megacorp attempt at her life. Now, on the anniversary of her 'death', she calls her family to inform them on how she's doing. Most of her blood relatives have a communication device she can contact, as well as Gene. Gene desperately wants her to be able to come back to spend time with her kids again, but Jaqui refuses to until the Megacorps aren't such an active danger. Instead, she keeps herself occupied by researching ancient ruins of human civilization she found in the dimension she leapt to, which is remarkably habitable for human life, though rather small, the world being a series of large floating chunks of landmass in a pristine blue void, orbited by a bright white sun. The landmass supports plant and animal life, none of it being remarkably dangerous, and is jutted with craggy, rocky terrain between forested valleys, complete with streams of fresh water and at least one inland salt water ocean.

NAME: James "Jim" "Loneblade" Bowie Russell
DESCRIPTION: James has the same tan skin as his brother but blonde hair (dyed), shaved on one side and pulled back into a ponytail. He usually wears a white hat, also dresses in the Textro style as his brother, but with a tan faux-leather vest. His bolo clasp and belt buckle sport a shined white opal star, set in grey gunmetal steel. He normally has a stylish sheriff's badge on the vest, but he's not a sheriff, nor does he even like the police, it's just fashionable. He has similar abilities to his brother, but instead of a natural ability to wield any firearm, he has a natural ability to wield any bladed weapon. To this end, he carries both a Thermoblade katana (which can cut through almost anything except for most forcefield tech, which repels it for at least a little bit, depending on the strength of the tech), and a large, sharp, nano-steel Bowie Knife, as well as a variety of knives hidden on and in his person. He also has the sharp reflexes and 'Dudetime' abilities as his brother, which he uses to deflect lasers and bullets out of mid-air, like a show-boaty asshole. He and Sam used to get along really well but had a falling out some years back, now they don't really talk too much. James believes that the only way for Texas to destroy the Megacorp influence is to destroy every one in their borders and secede from the country. Even Gene isn't completely comfortable with this ideology, blaming some of his earlier literary works for turning James to this. He likes the color blue.

NAME: Pilona "Goldpony" Voidmane
DESCRIPTION: Pilona is not from Earth. Ten years ago, they were smuggled onto the planet for reasons unknown. The reasons are unknown, because they broke out of containment and trampled the people responsible. Pilona is, in their human form, a tall feminine humanoid with gold-tinged skin and bright purple eyes. They have medium-length platinum hair, tied back into, of course, a ponytail. Pilona's species, the name of which they haven't managed to make translatable to human tongue, can turn into large, metallic-skinned horses, with reversed-hooves. They are invulnerable to small arms fire and most weak energy weapons, can move at high speeds and modify their hooves to traverse any terrain, fire energy blasts from their eyes, and, finally, they are incredibly strong. Pilona retains these abilities in their humanoid form, including the one where they can change the shape of their hands and feet. You don't want to fight them in melee. They did independent mercenary oddjobs before joining Sam and Jim's team, even having a romantic tryst with Sam, who is the only person they trust enough to let ride their equine form. Sam is not completely comfortable with this, however, something that Pilona uses for their own amusement to endlessly tease him with. Pilona's name isn't their real name, instead one they made up themselves. They really like Earth horses and 'horse culture', which translates to them owning a lot of horse related art and literature. A portion of their income from any job comes from commissioning a furry artist to draw their equine fursona.

NAME: Earnestly-as-the-Garden-Grows Everett
DESCRIPTION: Everett had a unique life growing up. He was raised by a pair of parents who, as children, had survived brainwashing by Father Orwell. They believed that God had allowed them to be kidnapped for a reason, because they alone would have skills to survive the cleansing of sinners from the Earth. They adopted any children they could and had some of their own, and trained them all with the skills they had learned. This culminated in a bunker situation, until Earnest's sister, Patiently-Guides-the-Needle-Through, led a coup of their siblings and helped all the children escape. Earnest doesn't have the archery skills of an Orwell Child, but he's close, and in the years after his family were set free he spent time familiarizing himself with the increasingly-dangerous wilds. He had seven siblings. Confident-in-the-Word, who was deposed in the coup and left to join a PMC in a huff, Patience, who left to seek out archers world-wide in desire to better her skills to protect the week, Pure-as-Cotton, who became a musician, Calm-Was-The-Carver, who joined the Texas Rangers, Sweet-Was-The-Stream, who is attending college to be a doctor, and Just-Was-His-Will, who is still attending high school under care of a foster family. Earnest met the Russell brothers as an independent wilderness guide and ending up joining their team. Earnest is kind of short, scrawny, but has musculature in his arms fitting an archer. He has red hair, green eyes, and likes to dress in black sports gear. Kinda had a thing for Jim. Likes wilderness photography. His shitbag parents were Joseph and Olivia Everett-Hyde, or, as the names they claim God himself gave them, Struggle-in-the-Name-of-God's-Will and Make-Peace-on-his-Earth.

NAME: Boz THE BRONZE BOZ Rafi
DESCRIPTION: Boz was a former underground boxer, sporting two cybernetic arms, plated with gold-painted nanosteel. Boz was kicked out of his league for refusing to throw a fight, then also refusing to throw the fight against the five goons sent to kill him for it. He joined Sam and Jim's team after, meeting them in a bar by chance. He is tall, muscular in his abs and legs, with dark brown skin and bright green dreadlocks, and often dresses in sleeveless clothing to show off his arms. He's bold but not dumb, a mistake most of his opponents make. His arms can punch through steel, and have extendable energy shields, letting him either operate as a melee powerhouse or a mobile shield to protect allies. He really likes sunglasses, and is a bit of a collector of rare classic models. The last person he fought who damaged a pair went out a window. And off a city-plate. When the brothers split he went with Jim. They're really close.

NAME: Nightshade "Darkmagic" Jane
DESCRIPTION: Nightshade is a rarity, a surviving mage. She survived through her rare application of magic- crafting magic bullets that she fires through her kinetic rifle. These bullets can do anything from explode, curse, allow her to spy, to healing. Jim and Sam both have scars from "healing bullets" that saved their lives. She's slender, of average height, and constantly wears a black duster with a tattered bottom edge. It has silver pins of various designs she claims are magic pinned all over it. She also wears a wide-brimmed, tri-corned hat, a gaudy silver necklace in the shape of an eye, ripped black jeans, and one of a various set of tank tops for her favorite Vocaloid-Death-Punk bands, the most common one being THE BLOODY MIKUS. Her rifle, "SWEET DEATH", is a custom-made job of high quality and a high caliber, and the stock is decorated with a silver spider-web set into it. She is both grim and extremely dramatic. She seems to despise both of the brothers for their spat and refuses to work with one over the other, and goes between spending time with both. Vitriocly anti-corporate. Total mystery otherwise. Is constantly dating a new girlfriend everytime Sam meets her again.

NAME: Mr. Smiley, Your Business Friend
DESCRIPTION: Mr. Smiley is a human man of average height, of average build, with blondish-tan hair cut short and grey eyes. Mr. Smiley claims to be the product of an illegal corporate cloning project made by the Kroger Company in preparation for the passing of a bill legalizing corporate cloning projects. The bill failed due to efforts of their corporate rivals, and thus, Mr. Smiley was to be permanently killed. Mr. Smiley was fortunately warned by an intern, and, under cover of darkness, somehow snuck his cloning pod out the facility and escaped. He met Sam in the outskirts of Mega Houston and Sam took him in. Mr. Smiley is unique in that, despite being a complete average yet slightly charming human man, whenever he dies he is re-built in his cloning pod, which is an nine by four foot steel "coffin," armor plated to be ultra durable. What little tracking tech the prototype had in it (they REALLY didn't think anyone would take the huge thing) has been disabled, and it's powered by a combination of fusion engine and exterior solar panels. It requires an intake of organic matter to form a clone, meaning that Mr. Smiley can usually be seen stuffing it full of rotten garbage. His bodies can vary depending on the fuel he used, and they somehow possess his memories up until he died. Mr. Smiley was, as a concept, utterly terrifying to Sam, until Sam saw him die for like the fifth time due to some mishap. Mr. Smiley's biggest strength to the team is being utterly expendable, and Mr. Smiley is completely okay with that. He likes to dress in simple clothing in upbeat colors, and he really likes smiley faces. He thinks by owning his namesake he can become his own person, instead of denying where he came from. His bodies start rapidly decaying five hours after death and his organs are all jumbled up in a way a standard human's shouldn't be, yet this doesn't effect his day-to-day functions.

NAME:The Bull
DESCRIPTION: A self chosen successor to Lonestar that considers Sam (and Jim) his enemy. He's backed by the oil corporations and thinks that corporate rule will make Texas "pure" and "strong." He constantly wears a hulking suit of power armor, that secretly doesn't enhance his strength at all. He's a super-human, and possesses a comical amount of super-strength. Well, comical until you're on the other end of it. Thankfully? Really, REAAAAALLY dumb. Rotten to the core. Likes underground death races. Thinks Meth Two was under-rated.

Emily's Compound, Switzerland
July 31st, 2050

Emily's compound sat on the highest ground around, with a winding road leading up to it. Walled off with a twenty foot fence, and guarded by a giant metal gate, it was quite secure against outside threats.

The inside, however, was quite inviting. Set up to look like a resort, there were countless hotel rooms, a giant swimming pool, a large hot tub, a bar, a big restaurant, and a spa. The architecture was all bright, colorful, and very modern, with numerous flashing screens showing beautiful scenes of nature. Landing pads were set up off to the side where dropships could land.

This was also apparently where the reclusive inventor Max Volts lived, though nobody had seen him in years.

Each hotel room came equipped with a king-sized bed, a huge TV, a well-stocked kitchen, a bathroom with an extravagantly-sized tub and shower, and a button that could call "Room Service".

Desmond and Theraea were getting set up in their rooms when one of Emily's stealth dropships landed on the landing pad outside. Finally, the party could get started.

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All right, feel free to have your characters mingle while you wait for the rest of the characters!

Also, if at any point you want to talk to an NPC in an extended manner, you can drag them aside back into PMs to conduct that conversation. Probably the easiest way to handle that.

The hatch of the stealth ship opened, revealing a person in pitch-black full-plate armor, all sharp points and dark elegance. They stood at perhaps six feet, though there was a suggestion of an inch or so of heel in those full metal boots, out of which coils of darkness gusted and pooled around their heels. The figure's helmet pointed vaguely out towards the resort, and it announced in a gravelly voice; "WE HAVE ARRIVED. THE GATHERING SHALL COMMENCE ONCE ALL HAVE ASSEMBLED. DEPART THIS VESSEL."

It was around then that a figure appeared out of fucking nowhere! That figure being a very tall humanoid moth-owl-being, wearing a big cloak and a colorful scarf, who'd just noticed that someone was arriving and teleported out to meet them! New friends are exciting! She regarded the edgy-as-all-hell figure with two big, unblinking pitch-black eyes, and raised one of her four arms in something like a wave. She was about 50 feet away, because teleporting right up in someone's face is rude as hell.

The Knight remained motionless.

The Shadowy Archeress inside the ship received a text message on her eyeball. <Em check it out Dragonfly 4: Moth>

...

She kept waving. That's how you show people that you're friendly!

As 'the Dark Knight' stepped off the dropship, another woman followed behind. She was around the same height as the Dark Knight, wearing black plate armor with a dark hood over her head. A mask covered her face, and a bow plus a quiver of arrows were on her back.

"Lady Nightstalker has arrived! Now the party can TRULY start!" she shouted, waving to Theraea. "HELLO! YOU MUST BE THE BLUE MOTH'S SUCCESSOR!"

The Red Reaper stepped down the cargo ramp and made a beeline to get away from the two idiots. He stood at perhaps 5'10", was muscular in build despite his age, and wore heavy red and black armor. He had his skull mask on, and carried a duffel bag full of guns.

Behind him came Umeko. She was of Japanese descent, and had black hair, dark eyes, and a tanned complexion. She stood at around 5'6", and had a tough look about her, though that didn't stop her from appearing friendly and approachable.

Then an unknown Caucasian woman in woodland fatigues. She had gray hair, hazel eyes, and was probably in her late fifties, though she still moved well and appeared to be in excellent shape. She was around 5'5", and carried an assault rifle on her back and a pistol in a chest holster.

Finally there came Watchwoman, dressed in her dark armor and her red motorcycle helmet. She moved a bit more rigidly, having been retired and out of the game for a few years now. Still, she carried her shield on her arm and her weapons (mainly stun weapons) in their various holsters. She too was of average height, and waved with friendly energy to Theraea. Despite her age, she wasn't going to miss this.

Suddenly, Emily materialized from the ground. She was around six feet tall in this avatar, and wore a burgundy suit with a tie depicting various smiling dogs.

"Glad you could make it," she said to them, offering a bow. "I am Emily."

And then she gave them all hugs.

Even the Red Reaper.

"Okay, your rooms all have your names on them..." she told them, pointing each of their rooms out despite that. "Feel free to drop your stuff off. If you need clothes or anything, just press the room service button."

The Red Reaper, Watchwoman, the unknown old woman, and Umeko all went to their rooms to check them out. And all except the Red Reaper waved to the still-waving Theraea as they walked past.

Lady Nightstalker stayed with the Dark Knight.

Theraea stopped waving at this point! She instead started walking toward the two people with edgy names who hadn't already left.

"Hi!" she called, in a weirdly reverberating and ethereal voice that didn't involve any... mouth movements, or visible mouth in any way. "Who's the blue moth?"

The Dark Knight appeared to scrutinize the moth...and then turned to address Lady Nightstalker. They delivered, in a grave intonation, truly world-shattering news. "MILADY. THIS MOTH APPEARS WHITE AND BROWN. NOT BLUE."

"How embarrassing..." Lady Nightstalker said, looking back to Theraea. "GREETINGS, WHITE AND BROWN MOTH."

Theraea got close enough to them to not need to talk in bold text! Her voice was no less weird and ethereal up close, but it wasn't quite the same as a God Voice.

"Um, I'm not really a moth, exactly, but... anyway, hi! I'm Theraea! Seventeenth spire, Ibuarska clan! I guess you're all here for the meeting?"

<Oh, this is something we've not seen before...how interesting!> Was the message 'Lady Nightstalker' received in private. Aloud, the Dark Knight looked between the Moth and the Archer, gave a small nod....and began introductions. Which she made up on the spot.

"I AM NAMED DARKEST NIGHT STRIKER OF THE FORGOTTEN HISTORIES SEALED WITH SHADOW RAIN-SWEPT BATTLEMENTS IN TWILIGHT UNSEEN."

"BEFORE YOU STANDS MILADY NIGHTSTALKER THE UNBROKEN THREAD OF FATE WHICH BOUND THE SECOND MOON-KILLER TRUESHOT THE FIFTH."

"WE HAVE COME TO SPEAK OF TOPPLING THE GREAT CORPORATE LEECH WHICH HAS GROWN FAT UPON THE TOIL AND BLOOD OF THE DAY-FOLK OF THEIR 'NORTH AMERICA'."

"SHARE YOU THIS PURPOSE?"

"Nice to meet you, Darkest Night Striker of the Forgotten Histories Sealed with Shadow Rain-Swept Battlements in Twilight Unseen! And Milady Nightstalker the Unbroken Thread of Fate Which Bound the Second Moon-Killer Trueshot the Fifth!"

Huh, most humans had way shorter names. That's neat!

"Yeah, I'm here to help deal with the 'Capitalists'. And especially to make sure they're not messing with any interdimensional technology or magic that they really shouldn't have. I mean, even if they aren't, it'd still be a lot easier to operate here without them."

She squinted at the Dark Knight, who, to her eyes, looked a little bit like the sun, dimensional-sight-wise.

"...I guess you'd know about that kind of stuff, though? Dimensional travel, not, um, capitalists exploiting it."

"WE WALK THE PATHS OF NIGHT." Spoke the Dark Knight. To the archer: <I suppose they must be from some pocket dimension...? Interesting. Shall we get it a bit drunk?>

"LET US DEPART THIS RUNWAY FOR A MORE FITTING ENVIRONMENT."

Lady Nightstalker nodded at the Dark Knight!

Theraea nodded eagerly! New friends! Fortunately, she didn't have too much of a concept of "edgy", so she didn't find anything about this laughable or even tiresome.

"Okay, okay, okay, sounds great! What were you thinking?"

The Dark Knight slowly...and dramatically....pointed to the poolside bar. And froze like that for a good ten seconds.

Theraea glanced to the bar, then back to the Dark Knight, then just... stared for the rest of the ten seconds. She was starting to get a little concerned by the time she stopped posing.

"...Yeah! That works. Let's get some... drinks? That looks like a drinks kind of place, I think."

To the bar!

They went to the poolside bar where Emily materialized in a traditional bartender's outfit.

"What'll it be?" asked Emily.

"COFFEE. BLACK AS NIGHT."

"Coffee sounds good! Maybe... two coffees."

"Right away!"

Two cups of coffee were suddenly elevated to sit on the surface of the bar counter, lifted by the nanites the entire compound was built from. Cream and sugar were also provided on the side in case Theraea wanted any.

"Two coffees, gourmet!" Emily smiled.

At that, one of Emily's stealth dropships came in and landed on a nearby landing pad! The ramp lowered.

AND FROM WITHIN, A TALL-AS FUCK LASS DRESSED IN A KILLER SET OF CLOTHES STROLLS OUT.

Oh yeah, I should probably describe her, huh? She's about 6'7" or so. The armor she wears is a dark tealish blue, mostly cloth and leather but with some metal plates keenly placed over vital bits. The hood draped over her head, the mask wrapped 'round her mouth, and the domino mask which sits atop her nose are all a slightly darker shade of the same color. A bright streak of red hair hangs past them. A long, broad claymore is strapped across her back, and at her waist she wears a dark black-and-white tartan, hanging down a fair bit past her knees. You can't see it through the mask, but she's got the biggest, dumbest grin on right now, god DAMN is she excited.

She strides in, trying way too hard to be cool, and takes a seat by the moth and the edgelord. "Guid eenin! Nice t'be seein ya! We just havin' coffee, or are we gettin' all pie-eyed?"