[center][color=c0c0c0][b][u]Slayer[/u][/b][/color]
Level 1
Day 1
Locations: Tetris Castle Conference Chamber
[@Hostile] [@SuddenSardines] [@Bright_Ops] [@Dracolunaris] [@Lmpkio] [@Toadropes][@Zarkun][/center]

Not a soul echoed his greeting, but Slayer did not mind.  His idea of pleasantries was, no doubt, outdated and unnecessary.  With any luck, this venture would provide him an opportunity to take to heart the new normals that defined this young people's world.  For want of anything else to do while he waited for the meeting to begin, Slayer kept a sharp eye out.  Now that the assembly of heroes gathered in closer proximity, he could begin to more keenly size up each one.  A bespectacled man sporting a neatly-trimmed beard and eye-catching orange accents on his armor gave him a nod of acknowledgment.  Pleased to be noticed and indulged with his fellow man's good manners, he returned the gesture.  Other than his clothing, the fellow seemed remarkably ordinary.  If hero he was, Slayer decided, then he was the Everyman, with whom everyone could relate and identify.  Of course, the vampire had little to base this conclusion in, but Freeman's face and manner struck him as essentially personable nonetheless.

Having moved on, Slayer next settled his eyes on an odd pair.  The green-clad plumber he'd seen earlier, whose rather odd proportions, unassuming manner, and respectable yet subdued mustache pegged him as someone following in someone else's footsteps.  Naturally, Slayer factored in the more grandiose appearance and attitude of the one called Mario into this guess—perhaps the pair were related?  No, he was sure of it.  One did not live as long as he and fail to develop an eye for patterns.  Plus, now that he'd heard the man's name to be Luigi, the parallel between the names was the nail in the coffin.  Seated beside the plumber was a woman in functional-looking armor with extravagant green hair.  [color=c0c0c0]”Hm.”[/color]  He inclined his head slightly, as if admiring a piece of art.  While he freely admitted that she was easy on the eyes, Slayer couldn't rightfully call her beautiful with the face of an exceptional, exquisite, and eternal beauty fresh on his mind.  For the first time, he regretted that his invitation hadn't allowed his wife to come along.  They did travel together so often, after all, and he treasured her company.

At about this time, the aquatic female who'd he'd heard introduce herself as Naija ask what makes someone a hero.  As far as Slayer could tell, the question was not addressed to him, and since a gentleman did not impose himself on someone else's conversations, he remained silent.  When nobody else immediately answered, the vampire turned his attention elsewhere.  He spotted a little girl with a serious look as she entered the room.  Almost instantly, he recognized a gem of maturity in her, evident in the deliberateness in which she moved alone.  When she seated herself and began to speak, the very traditional delivery of her words confirmed what he'd intuited.  [i]Hapu, is it?[/i]  He did not interrupt her, but made sure to offer a polite nod of his head when she happened to glance his way.  In doing do he echoed the nod he'd been given moments prior.  [i]What goes around comes around, after all.[/i]

Luigi took it upon himself to seek clarification for Naija's question, which left Slayer a tad disappointed.  He'd been interested in getting to know the others better.  He got his wish, thought, when the plumber introduced the woman next to him as Samus.  [i]Well, it's a start.[/i]

A moment later, someone else seated himself beside Slayer—the first to do so.  He took the excuse to turn and face the person so as to better observe him.  His dark, almost morbid clothing, combined with a hair-raising odor that surrounded him, gave the Hunter a grim air.  A no-nonsense nod came Slayer's way, and he returned the gesture immediately.  This man, he felt, was someone who could get the job done.  He did wonder if the Hunter would reply to the question at large, though, for Slayer wondered how someone who wouldn't have been out of place at a graveyard qualified as a hero.  Alas, the man kept the silence.  No matter.  Slayer returned his attention to the amphibian as she began to speak.

The somewhat diminutive fishmaiden responded as best she could to her own philosophical question, turned back upon her by Samus.  Slayer ruminated on her response.  Did one's attitude truly make someone a hero?  Did being labeled as such by others do it?  Was it because of someone's motives?  Or was it a function of what one's actions brought about?  When he compared them to his own definition, molded from countless years' experience, he decided that each possibility contained some truth.  He pondered how much of what both he and Naija thought of heroism applied to him.  After a moment, the corner of his mouth rose in a slight smile.  All the same, he would not offer his opinions unless asked.

Another warrior with the semblance of a soldier arrived and placed himself next to Samus.  Clearly, bounty hunter was mulling over Naija's response.  Most of the room's occupants remained as quiet as Slayer himself, most likely waiting just as he did for the meeting to officially commence.  Another of the more recent arrivals, Hapu, weighed on on the subject.  Slayer found himself rejecting what she suggested as the quintessential constant of heroism.  After all, if the desire to do the right thing was the cornerstone, why was he here?  To phrase his stance simply, something on someone's insides did not a hero make.  He felt obliged to offer his thoughts as a form of help, but he wanted to make sure they wouldn't fall on deaf ears first.