[IC] Legend of Benkei

Unity Zone of Avaris: Capital City of New Anton

From far and wide they had come, joined together by one common goal. Obtain all seven of the legendary weapons. To prevent them from falling into the hands of the Denizens. Each individual has aspirations of their own for what they want to do once the weapons have been found. Some with good intentions, others with more selfish ambitions.

Regardless of each member's desires, working together was the only way they could hope to succeed. The Denizens were numerous and had many powerful adversaries amongst their ranks. Being just as determined if not more determined than those that oppose them.

Those that had been recruited for this arduous task of both locating, securing and fighting for the weapons if needed, had been carefully scouted. Each selected for their unique abilities and experience, only the finest receiving the offer to join the team.

They had been given an invitation to meet at the center of the city of New Anton within the HQ of The Unity Organization, told to bring with them whatever gear and equipment they would need. They had not been given much other information, as a means to keep information leaks under-wrap. Very little had been told to them, but it was likely that was why they had to come here in person.

The meeting hall of the HQ was lavishly equipped and food was readily available at a simple request. A few nearby attendants ensured that the esteemed guests received the proper treatment that warranted their recruitment. The hall's walls are adorned with various trophies and banners. A large picture of the most powerful nations leaders all in one spot together, framed in the center of the back wall. Lined with what looked to be high quality gold, lit up with magi-tech energy that surrounded its massive frame. Music filling the air of the hall with a tune that was quite dated by this day and age.

The hall was also lined with this magi-tech lightning from end to end, keeping the hall brightly lit and its pristine metallic floors glistening in its light. Running the length of the hall in the center was a long table with metallic looking chairs lining either side with one larger chair towards the far end. The hall was about fifty yards long and a good forty feet wide or more.

Once the guests had time to settle, they would have a chance to take in their allies, meeting them all for the very first time. Whoever summoned them had not arrived or been here when the others had gathered. Which gave them time to meet one another, whether it was on purpose or they just had not arrived or had another reason for it was not known. If asked, even the attendants did not have an answer for why they weren’t here yet. In the meantime, attendants brought them whatever food and drink that they requested if they so desired.

What mattered now was that this group of many differing ideals and backgrounds had all gathered in one place for the very first time. Whether they got along or butted heads was not important as long as the primary objective was fulfilled in the eyes of the Unity Organization. The first task that this group would undertake, having to come up with a name for their rag-tag task-force.

[Lugubrious]

Sinmara

Finally, today was the big day. After what felt like a lifetime of planning, research, scheduling and rescheduling, allocation of funds, requisition of necessary supplies, and exhaustive efforts to track down suitable candidates, this grand inaugural gala had successfully materialized. It was no mean feat to organize such a large-scale, fancy event in such a high-profile location without any compromising whispers getting out, but thanks to the careful selection of personnel and generous expenditure for silence, it had been achieved. To the average courtier this might have seemed like an impossible miracle, but in truth, it was just another day for the Unity Organization’s illustrious Comité D'événement, for which no act of logistics or coordination, no matter how immense or discreet, was impossible.

For her part, the Chairwoman could not be happier. Not a single magitech bulb flickered or shone too strongly, instead casting down the perfect amount of light to illuminate the rich colors of the Great Hall’s tapestries and sculptures. The vivid, voluminous rugs of exotic make were luxurious enough to make feather beds look like army cots. Some might call her choice of music antiquated, but those crystalline chimes, reverberant strings, and sonorous piano notes carried the gravitas of bygone glory days, giving this affair the atmosphere of grand importance it deserved. The mosaic tile floors, practically works of art in and of themselves were so polished that one could eat off them, though when it came to eating one need look no farther than the immense dining table, laden with pristine cloth and spotless cutlery. Though today its aged wood wouldn’t creak beneath the weight of a decadent feast, given the limited number of attendees, the kitchen staff were still hard at work to make sure the guests wanted for nothing. The Chairwoman had seen to that personally, only just now emerging from the kitchen so that she could stand at the end of the hall, clasp her hands behind her back, and survey her dominion with pride.

It took a lot to satisfy a perfectionist like herself, who ran such a tight ship that even New Anton’s garrison seemed lax in comparison. Of course, her own appearance was no exception. Her vermillion hair, expertly curled and parted to be half across her face and half behind her ear, shone like the setting sun. It perfectly suited her rich burgundy dress, done up as it was with elegant white ruffles and dark purple accents. Even a wealthy noblewoman, she expected, would turn green with envy at the sight of her. Right now everything was perfect, just as one would expect for the long-anticipated commencement of the hunt for the Seven Weapons.

At the height of the Chairwoman’s satisfaction, however, a loud, metallic slam echoed through the hall, followed by the sound of shattering china and a burst of loud, raucous laughter. Though shocked for a moment at the disturbance, her mouth slightly ajar, she quickly composed herself and hurried toward the source of the sound at a dignified yet urgent pace. A cluster of people had gathered about halfway down the dining room table, enough lingering around that the Chairwoman couldn’t immediately see what had transpired. “What happened? What’s going on?” she demanded as she drew near. At her approach the attendants and loitering Unity Organization members shrank back, revealing a scene that left her momentarily dumbfounded once more.

“Sheesh, that’ll teach me to get too comfortable, haha! What’re these made of, aluminum foil?” An unusual woman was just now picking herself up off the floor. Around her lay scattered the partially-crushed remains of her metal chair, the fragments of a plate, and a whole lot of splattered food that must have been stacked high upon it. At the woman’s place sat several more plates, most picked clean, but several featured multiple exquisite dishes piled together into an indiscriminate heap, blending flavors and textures never meant to go together–an affront to the culinarians’ craft! As if that wasn’t enough, her place had been left almost as messy as the floor, with blatant disregard for proper dining etiquette.

Only after being appalled by the woman’s wanton destruction of property and lack of basic manners did the Chairwoman really begin to observe the culprit herself. She looked like some kind of barbarian, an overgrown meathead stuffed into a cheap, ridiculous purple suit barely held together by black straps, its sleeves rolled up and its front left undone in an act of shameless public indecency. Even more bizarre was the musculature in her stomach–was that some sort of condition? Surely it couldn’t be natural. The Chairwoman had seen men with musculature like that, but never a woman. For several seconds she just stared, her mouth agape, until the woman glanced her way. “Hey there. Somethin’ up?”

Her words snapped the Chairwoman out of it, and she met the culprit’s eyes. The other woman had a curious look on her face, one eyebrow raised, as she put her sunglasses back on. Being inside, she put them on her forehead, nestled in her striking black-and-white striped hair that seemed to stretch all the way down to her knees, kept in check by a series of red bands. More unusual, though, were her tall, scarlet horns. Those didn’t look like accessories. Overcoming her shock, the Chairwoman held her arms wide. “W-what is the meaning of this!?”

“Oh, sorry! I just went to put my feet up and tilted over backward, haha.” Flashing her pointed pearly whites, the woman offhandedly shoved the debris under the table with her shoe.

“You tilted…? Wait, stop, don’t do that, just…” The Chairwoman lurched forward almost drunkenly, her peace of mind shattered by the disaster unfolding before her eyes. It was taking a lot of mental effort to keep her panic suppressed. “L-let’s just start over, shall we? What are you doing here, how’d you get in?”

As she finished brushing away the evidence and dragged out another chair (which gave a startling metallic shriek) to plop down in, the stranger gave the Chairwoman a quizzical look. “Hey, hey, one question at a time, huh? I’ve just, well, been eating and telling everyone stories. Uh, you guys brought me here, didn’t you? To help find the weapons.” A wide smile spread across her face. “I sure hope so, ‘cause I’ve been goin’ wild on all this free food! Great stuff by the way. Could use more protein though, haha! D’you mind getting me another plate of wings? They told me I’m not supposed to eat off the floor.”

Her flustered host blinked in astonishment. “I-I’m not a servant! Don’t you know who I am? I am Alexandrine Beausoleil-Brillant, head of Comité D'événement! This whole event’s my doing!”

Now the guest’s eyebrows went up. “Woof, that’s a name and a half! How about Lexi? You look like a Lexi. My name’s Sinmara!” With a grin Sinmara crossed her arms beneath her chest, leaning perilously far back in her chair again. “Monster hunter extraordinaire, heavyweight champion boxer, and the strongest woman in the world!”

“Do NOT call me that!” Lexi reddened, her lips curling in anger. She tried taking deep breaths, convincing herself that she could handle this. “Urk…so, you’re a monster hunter? We did reach out to your Guild. Never heard of a ‘Sinmara’ though.”

“Well, my legend’s just getting started!” Sinmara cut off a big hunk of steak and stuffed it in her mouth. “I’ve had a bunch of sick-ass fights already. Just ask these guys, I was tellin’ them all about it before you showed up!” She gestured around to the bystanders, who unanimously tried to avoid Lexi’s accusatory gaze. After a moment her irate stare settled on Oliver, her second-in-command. With a glare she took him aside, and Sinmara started up right where she left off. “Uh, where was I? Oh yeah, the hydra! Well, I wasn’t about to let it finish off the town’s livestock, so I followed the trail of blood all the way back to its lair in the swamp. This huge nest of twisted vines and bones. So it came at me, right? That scaly bastard tried to bite my head clean off. So I waited for just the right moment, then WHAM! Decked it with my killer right hook! Knocked it clean out, so I used my chainsaw to return the favor and carve its head off instead! But that wasn’t the halt of it, because the next second two heads grew right back! They grabbed my legs and pulled me through the mud, until…”

Lexi shut the story out to focus on admonishing Oliver. ”How could you let this happen?” she hissed.

“Well, technically she’s on the list,” the balding fellow replied. “When we contacted the Monster Hunter Guild, nobody showed any interest. Saying that the hunt’s a fool’s errand, and that only an idiot would agree to join. Sinmara’s the only one we got. She may be a bit coarse, but…”

“She’s ruining the party!” Lexi whispered back. “She’s probably just some yarn-spinning oaf who showed up for a free meal, and she’s making a laughingstock of us!”

Oliver furrowed his brow. “Everyone seems to like her. She’s clearly strong, and if even half of what she says is true, she’ll be a worthy addition to the team. And…well, look around, Alexandrine. We didn’t even get half a dozen. We need her.”

He’d been looking back at Sinmara as he spoke, and Lexi followed his gaze. She took in all the people gathered around the monster hunter, hanging on her every word and drowning her in attention. None could take their eyes off her, and after a moment even Lexi realized she was staring again. Jealousy coursed through her. Is THAT really all it takes? Turning red again, she snapped her fingers in front of Oliver’s eyes. “Hey! Are you sure you need her, or do you just ‘want’ her? Don’t fall for it. People can’t help but stare at car accidents, but that doesn’t mean they should. I’ll handle this.”

She approached Sinmara again just as the huntress was finishing her story. “...with my heart ablaze, my chainspear was burning at full throttle! With it slowed down from all the heads, I landed on its back and went to town ‘em, one at a time! As I cut through the necks, my Heartbreak’s red-hot teeth seared the wounds, meanin’ they couldn’t regrow! I took ‘em down one at a time, until finally the beast was slain! Sinmara thirty, hydra zero!”

“It took you thirty tries to figure out how to stop the heads regrowing, and you just kept doing it?” Lexi questioned, crossing her arms.

Sinmara chuckled as she drained her glass. “That’s right, hahaha! A riddle for the ages. Betcha not even a hundred men coulda solved it! Lucky the townsfolk had me on the case–the smartest woman in the world!”

Genuinely amazed by the monster hunter’s delusions, Lexi shook her head. “Why did you agree to join the search for the weapons, Sinmara?”

“Hm? Oh, ‘cause my mom told me to,” Sinmara replied matter-of-factly.

Lexi hung her head. “It truly is a sorry day that the Unity Organization has resorted to relying on someone like you.”

In the hush that followed, Sinmara only smiled. “Oh yeah?” She stood up, noisily bumping the table as she did, and approached her accuser. Intimidated, the Chairwoman backed up against the table, looking around for help. For now though, none of the onlookers dared interfere. “Don’t think I got what it takes, huh? You wanna piece of me, Lexi? Then let’s fight! Put up your dukes!” Her orange eyes gleamed with excitement. Grinning, she leaned forward and turned her head sideways, exposing the scar on her jaw. “C’mon, first one’s on me! X marks the spot!”

“L-like I’d ever debase myself with such a…a barbaric act!” Red as a beetroot, the Chairwoman slipped to the side to beat a hasty retreat.

After a moment Sinmara turned away with a sigh, shrugging. “Aww. You people are no fun.” With a dejected groan she plopped back down and pulled into her place at the table. “But hey, as long as there’s food, I’m not complainin’!” With the momentary disturbance over and the jovial mood somewhat ruined, the bystanders drifted away, and Sinmara resumed her meal.

[DracoLunaris]

Fae

- A little while before the party

“Good morning, Mr Enzoani. I’ll cut straight to the chase: it has come to our understanding that you have been recently contacted by a group known as the Denizens Of The Damned”

So spoke a plain looking man in a plain looking suit, hat and sunglasses who had arrived in a plain looking vehicle, and had then promptly invited himself into the back alley studio-clinic, while remaining undetected by all but one of the security systems, of the person he was addressing.

That person skilled in their work, fingers of ivory and gold pausing their dance across the spinal column of a woman who’s cybernetics he was repairing, before just as swiftly resuming what they had been doing. There where a few small flashes of arcana, and then the hands withdrew

“There, that should resolve the jitters you were having” the man who had been operating told his patient, before adding “Now rest assured, I could suture you back up in my sleep, so I hope you don’t mind if I speak with my ever so rude guest while I do?”

A mere courtesy, given that they were currently anesthetized.

The man turned around, leaving his mecha-tendrils to do the work of closing back up the patient’s back, and in so doing revealing his face to the plain man who had asked him a question. Even in the dim light of his out of the way clinic, and surrounded by the scent of blood, solder and sorcery the man still managed to look like an immaculate picture of beauty, at least if the multiple parts of body that had been replaced with cybernetic components didn’t ruin the view for you.

“Please, call me Fae darling, everyone else does” the doctor replied at last, before promptly pausing to take a small sip from a glass of water, and then continuing “well, everyone I’m on friendly terms with at least. Are we on friendly terms mr …”

“West” the plain man responded simply, before reminding the doctor that “I asked you a question, mr Fae”

“Yes, yes, I know I know, mr west” Fae replied, not at all believing that was his real name, yet also finding it interesting that Mr West had (mostly) bowed to his wish in terms of his preferred address. As a result of that, after setting the glass down, he explained that they had come “A few days ago in fact, attempting to harang me into assisting them with some farcical venture. Dark One this, new world order that. I turned them down, of course. I’ve been working the backstreets long enough to smell trouble a mile away, and those fellows positively reeked of it”

“We know”

“Yes well, spooks like have been trying to monitor me for long enough I quite hope that you know that I know-” Fea began to go on, only for the man to interrupt him by clarifying that what he knew was “That you turned them down”

Fae paused, before beginning to enquire “Then have you come to me to find out what they’re up to? Because I’m not particularly interested in-” before being cut off again by the clarification “We know that as well”

Fae raised a hand in light incredulation, and then sighed, before requesting to know “Then why, my dear, are you even asking?”

In response the plain man reached into his suit and handed Fae a golden envelope. After making a comment about how out of mode such a thing as the written word was, he sliced the letter open with a scalpel tipped finger and then proceeded to scan the contents, remaining eye widening and then narrowing as he did.

“You wish me to believe that not only was everything those delinquents said true, but that the illustrious Unity Organization seeks my help in trying to stop them” he said after he was done, before asking “Is this some kind of a joke?”

“Not at all” Mr West replied, before explaining that “As you know, we’ve been aware of you for quite some time, Mr Fae, and though I, we” he corrected himself “do not particularly approve of your work, we do believe that you are, as they might say, on the level. Your actions a few days ago are additional proof of that. You also have a particular set of skills that can be put towards the cause of keeping a rather … diverse team in one piece, as well as the combat skills to keep up with them” Mr West indicated to a hereto irrelevant carcass of a laser burn riddled and partially dissected nightmare of metal and flesh from the wilds that was taking up a large portion of the room.

“You’re also desperate, if you’ve come to me” Fae filled in “I’m hardly the only combat capable engi-tor in the world” though admittedly it wasn’t a particularly common profession “and if you couldn’t get them, what makes you think you can get me? You should already know I don’t take bribes or sell out, so what could you possibly-”

Mr West calmly pulled out another, much plainer, envelope and handed it to Fae. He rolled his remaining eye at this, and then opened and read the letter inside, this one, it seemed, personally written by a rather distinguished researcher who was now working at the UO. After reading through it twice, he had to conceded that “well then, it seems you have my attention”

"Then we shall inform the Organization to expect your arrival” Mr West replied, before snapping his fingers, and causing both of the letters to spontaneously combust and turn to ash in an instant.

“Yes yes. Now be off with you Mr West, I have a patient to discharge” Fae told the man dismissively, as his mecha-tendrils finished flawlessly stitching the skin of his patients back back together, leaving not a hint that she had been being operated on mere moments ago.

Mr West nodded, and without another word, left the way he came.

“Uniting weapons to bring world peace. Ridiculous” the doctor muttered to himself disbelievingly, but even as he dismissed that, and started to wake what might be his last civilian patient in quite some time, his mind was already wondering at the marvels those weapons and whichever ancient places they dwelled within might hold. The promise of priority access to those had been, he had to admit, the perfect offer to make him.

It was certainly enough to convince him to travel to the center of town to join this little party of theirs at the very least. As such, he took the next train from the outskirts, the magitech marvel cruising along artificial ley lines at a blistering place, and arrived at the venue with plenty of time to spare.

He certainly drew some looks as he entered, striding into the resplendent halls of the HQ, and once seeming to fit right in with his immaculately kept appearance and flowing garments of a classical bent, and yet at the same time sticking out like a sore thumb with his extensive mechanical augments. His mecha-tendrils click clacked on the floor as they walked with him, while his holo projector created a small 3d model of a human with most of their internals on display which the doctor openly tinkered with as he walked.

He did at least have the decency to put the body horror show away when he sat down at the table where people were eating (he himself ordered only some light horderves after flash-forging a mostly illusionary chair he could actually sit in while still wearing his backpack), and instead switching to working on something wholly mechanical. He proceeded to tinker away for a while, openly displaying designs that would put the work of many corporate cybernetics departments to shame, and doing so without a care for who saw what to them would have been top secret information, till the commotion the Chairwoman caused caught his attention.

The entire spectacle was, he had to admit, highly amusing, and had Fae not so subtly laughing behind a raised hand at the chairwoman’s embarrassing escapade.

“Well then, this already seems promising, if I am to have such delightful company in this endeavor” Fae said, mostly to himself but not at all minding if the boisterous woman overheard him, before deciding to speak more broadly to those of his fellow invites who had arrived “Ah, but where are my manners, I’ve been antisocially tinkering away instead of introducing myself”

Upon saying that, he stood and proceeded to do just that “I am Ferdinand Altori Enzoani, humble seeker of the perfection of the human form, but you can call me Fae darlings, I much prefer it. A pleasure to make your acquaintances”

He gave a short but thoroughly theatrical bow, one set of arms held to his chest, the others spread out to one side, before inquiring “Now, if you don’t mind me asking, to whom do I owe that pleasure?” as he sat back down, intrigued to know if the others would turn out to be just as delightfully eccentric.

[Emeth]

♢♡ Marissa ♡♢
♬

The Slag. A dark and maze-like place, massive in size and unsanctioned in its existence. No one knows when the construction started, underground, in and around and across and under the artificial ley lines of the city's magical trains. It's utterly unnavigable—a place that changes in layout every time the government comes knocking. It's nearly pitch black, lit only by neon lights and the ambient glow of ancient magic. Only the worst dregs of society dare venture to the lower levels, which stink like a sewer, the ground coated in layer upon layer of blood and piss and Hell knows what else. Even the upper levels are teeming with shady characters. For both those reasons and more, it pays to watch one's step—and of course, to always mind the gap—even as you look over your shoulder for the person waiting to push you in.

If there's one sight that doesn't belong in a place like this, it's a beautiful young lady with pristine porcelain skin and alluring curves, wearing an old school uniform—old, but well-kept, and freshly ironed by the looks of it. As she walked, with her head held high and shoulders broad, the signature scent of a luxury-brand perfume wafted through the air. In the worst place to do so, she stood out, every aspect of her appearance projecting innocence, as if carefully calculated, daring any who laid eyes upon her to try to soil her pure visage. As it were, that was the exact intent of her fashion statment—to loudly proclaim a challenge to any damned fool who did not know this woman.

Only a select few could call her their associate, let alone a friend. None who knew this would dare to speak to her. Yet, one voice echoed toward her, carried to her ears by the claustrophobic halls. Even worse, it called her name: "Marissa." Whirling around, she glared at the source of the violet neon light. Another sight that did not belong in The Slag met her gaze: a suited man, wearing sunglasses in the underground—like some kind of fashion statement. As his light bathed her skin, inky imperfections revealed the truth: fresh blood.

♬

The girl, just like her environment, was covered in the evidence of fresh blood, revealed by the man's light. At this, the Red Queen clenched her fists and trembled with rage. "I am the Red Queen. Who in the fuck are you?" she demanded. "You may call me Mr. West," he replied, deadpan. Now he was telling her to call him by a title?! Her pupils almost seemed to contract in response to his words. She opened her mouth, slowly, baring her fangs as if she were about to take a bite out of his face. "This is my territory. Get out," she hissed. As if he paid her threat no mind, he withdrew a golden envelope from his suit jacket. "I have correspondence which may be of interest to you. It's an invitation to a party, so don't lose it. No one in the real world knows who you are, after all," he said, returning her gesture with his own Cheshire-cat-like grin. His words carried no particular emphasis, but mocked her nonetheless—and before she could strike him, he vanished.

Infuriating, and nauseatingly so—every syllable of his words grated on her ears like a sanding belt. Instead of his face, her fist met the envelope, snatching it out of the air. Much as the man provoked her ire, however, a denizen of the dark would recognize the glitter of gold, even in the warped neon lights of The Slag. In grabbing the invitation, she saw that her skin was snow white once again. The sight calmed her a little. Letting out a sigh, she cut open the seal—a proper wax seal—with a bright pink fingernail. She stood there in the dark, reading its contents without a drop of fear in her bones nor an ounce of regard for her surroundings, as was her privilege as the Red Queen.

She smiled. A party—a fancy one, fit for a Queen. "Why, of course I'll attend!" she proclaimed with a schoolgirl-like laugh. What's more, it seemed like the Unity Organization had some kind of lead on the Seven. What it was, they were quite obviously not stupid enough to put to writing, but she was welcome to learn about it while in attendance. "Perfect," she said, as if the woman who'd hand-written every invitation were there to receive her praise. Holding the letter close to her lips, she smiled a smile that was the perfect picture of innocence, humming a tune and bobbing her head from side to side as she walked. Then, she gasped.

"Oh, shit. I need a bath!" she realized. Reminding her that she smelled of blood—how helpful the man had been, after all!

---

When what appeared to be an—admittedly young, but nonetheless—grown woman dressed like a schoolgirl approached the venue, security was naturally skeptical, even a little concerned. After a moment of silence, one of the men took a chance. "Invitation?" he prompted her, to which Marissa smiled and presented it. "Welcome," he said, trying to play it off like he knew all along. "Good call, rookie," his partner teased once she was out of earshot. "Guess a once-in-a-lifetime event attracts all the freaks, huh?" he laughed. "Psh, a cosplayer is normal compared to what I saw before your shift," his senior fired back. "At least, I hope it's cosplay. This is a fool's errand she's being taken for a ride on. If she really just got out of school, that's a godsdamned tragedy. Makes my career look like a fucking fairy tale, it does."

The young lady who was the image of purity walked through the hallowed halls, taking in the sight of it all. The glitter and gold, the luxury. Her heart swelled, but she wouldn't let it show on her dignified face. She belonged here, and she wanted all of them to know it. Of all the various characters gathered today, she certainly looked the most like she belonged. She appeared an icon of privilege amongst the other rabble. The gaudy name tag plastered on her chest looked most at home on her mundane, yet pristine clothing. It was also a problem, however. "Marissa." Wouldn't the lack of a family name draw attention? Yet, she looked around at the others. None of their name tags displayed family names, either. Marissa's satisfied smile returned. It appeared as if she'd fit right in here, after all.

Another woman of refined and elegant appearance had a dignified, satisfied smile on her face as well. Perhaps she was the one who'd organized all this? If so, it would do Marissa well to talk to her—but she would not approach the woman first. She was the guest. The onus was on her to see her guests satisfied. Until she approached, she would take part of the luxuries on offer. Motioning for a waitress, she spoke: "Your finest Riesling Spätlese." The impeccability of her manners and specificity of her order would surely—

"Um... ID?" the waitress asked nervously. "It's just... your outfit... I went to school there. I recognize it."

Did I fucking ask?! Marissa thought irritably, her smile turning just a bit false. "Why, thanks for the compliment~ I haven't been asked for my ID in years, so I always leave it at home~" she lied. She owned no ID. "Er, I can't... my job..." she stuttered anxiously. Marissa rubbed her temple in vexation. "Non-alcoholic, then," she offered in reluctant surrender. "Coming right up!" the girl responded without missing a beat, eager to leave the table, and the room for that matter.

While all of this was happening, Marissa watched the antics with Sinmara unfold. Unlike Fae, Marissa was not amused by the too-big woman who seemed to have missed every memo ever written in human history, about everything. Her appearance, her attitude, her loud mouth, her rough speech, her table manners, everything. Marissa couldn't decide what was the worst part, until the important-looking woman decided—in fairness to her, correctly—that the threat Sinmara posed to her wasn't worth it, and left the room. Ah, now this wouldn't do, not at all.

Taking the time to finish her drink—it was a bit tart for her tastes—Marissa slowly rose from her chair and approached Sinmara, her face the perfect image of friendliness. "Greetings, Sinmara. I'm Marissa, the Red Queen," she introduced, pointing to the gold-embossed fine print on her name tag, displaying her title. "Why don't we step outside and get some fresh air? You smoke? You look like a smoker. Need a light?" She pulled out an old—but polished—brass lighter, with unintelligible engravings on its sides.

[Dragonfly 9]

THE JESTER

No one had seen him come in, and there seemed to be no anticipation for his arrival before he came. He just...appeared, and gave them the invitation he had gotten for the party. He said nothing as they inspected the invite, and only smiled and bowed after they said he could participate in the festivities, soon taking a seat as a waiter came over to him.

"ID?" She asked after looking him up and down. Her eyes and expression told him that she saw him as a child, or at least a very weird dwarf. He smiled brightly under his scarf, however, and took out his ID in a split second, showing it to her.

"...Why are you covering your-"

The waiter was then interrupted by him chuckling darkly.

"Some things are not meant to be known, young miss!" He said, putting his ID back just as quickly as he had pulled it out. "And besides, I do look like the jester you were told to serve, is that correct?"

After a bit of silence, the waiter just nodded.

"Any drinks you want?" She asked him.

"Sunrise Deluxe has always been my favorite choice, so make it that," He said, snapping his fingers almost playfully as the waiter rushed off.

It wasn't long until he was given his drink, and not long before drama started. A woman with a six pack and red devil horns was causing a delightful, chaotic scene, and she had already gotten quite the audience. Then, a much shorter woman wearing a school girl outfit walked up to her and suggested that they should go outside for a smoke break, though he noted that the suggestion didn't feel entirely genuine.

After stroking his chin and wondering what to do, he decided to make an illusion of himself, doing a cartwheel off of one of the tables and landing next to the shorter woman.

"Greetings and salutations, ladies!" The illusion said, bowing in the same way he would. "I am The Jester, and it's wonderful to see the two of you here! May I ask what's going on?"

[Lugubrious]

Sinmara

Once the irate Chairwoman stormed off, red with embarrassment, the atmosphere around the table returned to normal. Sinmara neither launched into another bombastic anecdote about her past exploits nor voraciously tore into the remains of her meal. Instead, she pulled her chair close and slouched over the table with her jaw resting on her fist, cushioned by her glove, and her elbow on the table. In such a manner she picked at her food and sipped her water, her boisterous and larger-than-life attitude somewhat muted.

While her pride wouldn’t let her capitulate even when directly reprimanded, Sinmara wasn’t a mean-spirited or spiteful person. She didn’t want to be the center of attention all the time, and she didn’t actually want to cause trouble. Sure, the huntress might be a little ditzy, but she’d have to be downright oblivious to not realize that she didn’t exactly fit in around here. Glitz and glamor, peace and plenty…compared to her usual lifestyle of wandering through the wilderness trying to scrounge together enough quest rewards to keep her muscles fed, this was the lap of luxury. When she finally tracked down that scraggly, mustached fellow with a rustic cowboy hat and a cheap corduroy suit the color of brown mustard who’d been petitioning monster hunters with a look of desperation on his droopy face and a golden envelope in his hand, she’d practically begged him for it. Mom told her to join this campaign, of course, but who in their right mind would turn down free food, not to mention the company of powerful combatants?

So naturally Sinmara had come here intending to enjoy herself. Wasn’t that what parties were for? But as much as she loved being a big deal, she didn’t want to cause such a scene that she got thrown out, or worse, thrown in jail again. Though never for more than a night or two, she’d been in and out of a number of small prisons across the continent ever since her grand debut. She’d been charged with stuff like brawling (serial offender), petty theft (if meat speaks to me, I listen), drunkenness (things got out of hand), barfighting (bars can be dangerous, just ask a lawyer), disturbing the peace (it was SO boring), destruction of public property (those were all accidents), unauthorized possession of a deadly weapon (it’s literally part of me), indecent exposure (how’s it my fault nobody makes anything my size?) and so on. Of course, the ability to obliterate solid matter meant that she never needed to stay anywhere longer than she wanted to, but who’d turn down a free bed? The stockades were less comfortable, but still. Besides, some of those ancient, small-town sheriffs, dozing their days away in the shade of their porches, hadn’t seen action in decades. They’d welcomed the chance to feel important again, and when all was said and done Sinmara often ended up making some friends. Of course, in a big city like New Anton, people were more likely to clap her in irons, leave her to rot in a dungeon, and so on. Better not to risk it. So for now Sinmara just sat here, bored and disappointed. If stuff didn’t start happening, she might start to disassociate again, and boy howdy would she not enjoy that.

Luckily, Sinmara wasn’t the only odd duck around. As she sat there, daydreaming about epic fight scenes, an unfamiliar voice stirred her from her reverie. A well-groomed man with the slender, waifish prettiness one might expect of an elf, juxtaposed strongly against the industrial artifice of his sophisticated augmentations, was saying something. Sinmara neither registered what he’d been doing nor the first couple things he said, but when the elegant engineer introduced himself, the huntress lit up. Even if he didn’t ask her to return the favor, which he did, she’d eagerly jump at the chance to get her name out.

“Wow, everyone’s got a super long name today. Fae it is!” she laughed, standing. Assuming that his bow was a cultural norm of some sort, Sinmara copied the gesture as best she could, although she had a little trouble holding her hands to her chest in exactly the same way. “I’m Sinmara!” she introduced herself before she sat back down. “Not-so-humble earth-shakin’ prizefighter and slayer of mythical beasts! That’s right, THE Sinmara, so if you want an autograph, you’d better ask now before folks start lining up! And if you wanna spar, dandy man, you don’t even gotta ask! I’m ready to rock any time, day or night!”

On the heels of her introduction, another woman rolled up, offering her own name and an invitation. For a moment Sinmara just blinked at her, wondering if she’d heard Marissa correctly. This wasn’t just wishful thinking, right? RIGHT? After a moment Sinmara lit up, springing to her feet with her heart racing and a wild grin plastered on her face. “You wanna take this outside!? Fine by me! Fair warning though, you’re gonna be the one who ends up gettin’ smoked!” After a moment though, her eyes narrowed, and she heaved a heavy sigh. “Crap, I almost got carried away again. I’m actually tryin’ to stay outta trouble for now, so I can’t afford to bust loose just yet. But uh, hold that thought, will ya Rissy? Once we’re outta here, you’re on!”

Right on cue, an enigmatic individual put in a surprise appearance. Sinmara watched, highly amused, as the Jester performed an acrobatic stunt and landed next to Rissy. “Nice to see you too, I could really use a laugh!” She put her hands on her hips, her brows scrunching up as she tried to put together a summary of the situation. She was a little short on the specifics herself, though not quite as short as Marissa. “Uh, I think they brought us all here to find the seven weapons. Right? That’s just about all I know though, I dunno how to find ‘em or where to look. It’s all been pretty hush-hush.” She shrugged in resignation. “Honestly though, I could just skip all the explainin’. Just point me in the right direction and let me punch something!” With a jocular smile she pounded one gloved fist into the palm of the other, allowing everyone present to see their helpful labels of ‘left’ and ‘right’.

[Nakushita]

Unity Zone of Avaris: Capital City of New Anton

@Lugubrious@Dragonfly 9@Emeth@DracoLunaris@Dragon Mahteru@Kidgoat
Once most of the invited and esteemed guests had arrived at the hall. It was time to make her grand entrance. She had already kept them waiting quite long enough, having stayed aside and out of view. Observing the makeshift task force that she had chosen to assemble. It had taken a lot of convincing within the UO to make this moment happen.

Now it was time to get this party going, what better time than now and what better place than here. Taking a wide view of the events unfolding within the hall, Acacia knew just what to do and how to do it. Having observed every little detail and interaction each guest has had since they arrived from behind her mask. Having kept herself hidden from view, biding her time for the right moment to begin.

Acacia, Head of The Taskforce

Quickly shifting through the hall, unnoticed and unbeknownst to those that had gathered, she glided quietly through the air unseen with her cloak flowing behind her. She reappeared by the one named Sinmara. Quite boisterous and loud, easy to spot and find even amongst such a crowd of unique individuals. Being behind her, Acacia leaned her masked face near her ear and whispered. Giving Sinmara a small tap on the shoulder. “Quite bold are we? You stick out like a sore thumb, there is no doubt the Denizens will hear you coming from a mile away….” With her comment finished she quickly disappeared once more before Sinmara had the chance to respond or turn around.

Acacia now appearing behind the Jester, repeating the same tactic as before as she had done with Sinmara. Deciding she would go from each, one at a time, before a true and full introduction. “Interesting one that you are huh? Coming here without much notice, but sticking out almost as much as the ogre of a lady soon after….” disappearing once more as she continued to make her way around the hall.

Soon finding herself behind Fae she leaned in once again. “One of showmanship huh? A true gentlemen, hard to find in this world….but would you be so gentlemanly if your opponent within the Denizens ends up being a woman, with those cybernetics and skills, you can be quite deadly….I wonder…..” continuing her little game as she went to go make her final spot for the time being.

Reaching at last the one who called herself the Red Queen. “Marissa…or should I say the Red Queen, what an honor to have such royalty amongst our ranks…but the question is, how much loyalty remains within that cold dark heart of yours for your former comrades…perhaps if you are lucky, and mature enough you may eventually upgrade to a drink for adults….” Disappearing as swiftly as she had come leaving very little trace behind.

Finally with her small little game completed, the music came to a halt as all the servers quickly shuffled off to the sides of the room leaving the floor open for Acacia’s official arrival. Revealing herself at the head of the table as she had her arms spread to either side. “Welcome my esteemed guests, I’m Acacia, the head of this makeshift taskforce and the one that made the final decision in inviting each of you here, I took some time observing you all, hopefully you did not mind too much.” Her gaze shifted around the room towards each member of the task force, face hidden by her fox mask..

“Now, I’m sure you all have many questions for me, so lets make this short and sweet, this taskforce was put together to oppose the Denizens of the Damned, I’m aware that some of you have had interactions with this group in the past, so I don’t need to remind any of you just how dangerous they are.” Her voice stern, cool and collected as she continued on.

“They seek the Seven, and we have good reason and evidence to suggest that they are aware of the locations of each of them, when the UO made the discovery, it appears we had a leak and that information was given to the Denizens,we must move quickly and swiftly to beat them to each of the Seven, otherwise the Dark One will once again come to bring the world into chaos, it won’t be easy, and not all of you may make it through to see the end, but that is why each of you were selected, each of you have unique abilities, skills and experience that gives you the best shot at ensuring the Seven ends up in the hands of the UO and that world peace may be established” Bringing her left palm out towards them all in an inviting gesture.

“Since you are all here, I figure you have all come to accept my little offer, in that case we may proceed to our first mission objective, of course I’ll give you all time to start to figure out how you all want to work together, it won’t be easy bringing each of your skills to the table and working together as a complete and fully functional team at first, but you will have to learn fast.” Snapping her fingers as the walls behind her began to separate, displaying a large magical display of a map of Avaris.

Without turning to look at it, Acacia snapped her fingers two more times as a red circle appeared over a little cluster of islands within the western sea of Avaris. “We believe the first of the Seven can be found here within this chain of Islands, we have reason to suspect it is held within a mighty fortress hidden within the largest island, found here at the center of the island chain, suspect booby traps, otherworldly beasts and creatures and threats at every turn, including the Denizens, we have reliable intel that they seek to hit this fortress as well, so we must move with great haste, make whatever preparations that you need to make, we will leave at dawn” snapping her fingers one last time as she turned to leave, her cloak fluttering behind her as she left them to consider all that she had said.

Music began anew, as the servers quickly returned to their duties. This time however the music was different from before, now chosen by Acacia as she could only stand classical music for so long before it drove her completely nuts. Figuring the task force would want to listen to something a little different and fitting for what they where about to embark upon.

[Emeth]

♢♡ Marissa ♡♢

Marissa looked like she wanted to roll her eyes at Sinmara, but considered herself too high-class for such a thing. Hadn't this woman ever heard of subtlety? Yes, she was trying to take this outside, but saying it outright like that was just asking for someone to intervene and spoil the moment! "Oh." At Sinmara's insistence that she was trying not to cause trouble, Marissa's face softened, in spite of her sour tone. Well, if she was going to be reasonable like that... there was always room for more powerful figures, with big egos to match, in Marissa's court—the Duchess, the Court Jester, the King—this wasn't the kind of mission she could do alone, after all, nor was there any sense in the Queen competing for a lesser role, though whether Sinmara was competing for Duchess or Court Jester was up in the air. "Perhaps you didn't realize that disrespecting someone with a long name might cause some trouble then, hm?"

No sooner had the words left her smug mouth than a fox lady teleported behind Sinmara in a very personal way, and cut straight to the heart of what Marissa wanted to say. "Well, that took the wind out of my sails," she responded, sighing in disappointment. What sense there may have been in teaching Sinmara a lesson about subtlety or deceiving appearances was getting vanishingly small at this point, especially since she didn't even question Marissa's strength or her right to be here. She made to put her lighter away, with a nonetheless satisfied smile on her face despite her sigh. Unfortunately, it only lasted for as long as it took for the mysterious kitsune woman to get around to her, at which point it became one of barely concealed fury. Much as Sinmara had made an arse of herself with the chairwoman, she at least had the decency to introduce herself somewhat properly, and while she could do without the nickname of "Rissy" and the comment about "getting smoked," her clever wordplay and personable attitude convinced her to let it slide, just this once at least.

When the fox-like woman disappeared, Marissa stood ready for her to do it again, ready to steal whatever spell she was using. How cocky would she be when she could no longer run away? What snarky comments would she make then?! ...but she never used it again, leaving the Red Queen holding her fingers in the air, poised as if waiting to snatch a card out of the hands of a phantom that never appeared. Did she know to expect that trick from her, and choose to visit her last on purpose? Frustrated, Marissa instead flicked open her lighter, causing her to burst into flames instantly. In a flash, those flames became armor, and a great steampunk waraxe. "I'm always prepared," she scoffed, glaring at the woman. Indeed, the "Red Queen" was currently wearing and carrying everything of value that she owned.

[DracoLunaris]

Fae

“Ah yes, the Sinmara, of course” Fae replied to the muscle bound oni of a women’s claim of fame, even as he set a subroutine to look her up on the weave. Said routine rapidly fed him back a picture of the woman that was practically identical to the one he’d gotten already, which was fairly amusing to the cyborg. Truly, he thought, sometimes you really could judge a book by its splendid cover.

“And perhaps I will take you up on that offer a little later darling” he in the meantime replied to the one she had made about sparring, adding that “It’s always useful to acquire relevant combat data, and it’ll give me some practice at stitching your remarkable looking physiology up after battle to boot” something he expected he might have to do a lot if she where as daring/reckless as she seemed

He was rather glad he’d specified later, because the woman had to subsequently take several moments to realize that this was not exactly the place to be thrown down when she misinterpreted a comment from one of the other arrivals about stepping outside.

He was rather less glad that his attempt at initiating introductions only really got him a response from Sinmara, lovely as it was, whereas the other two who he identified by their eccentric garbs seemed more interested in her than him. Still he got a bit of an understanding of them regardless, with the young woman in a schoolgirl uniform clearly being older than she looked (something they shared in common, he mused) whereas the other was of all things, a Jester. He was also, perhaps, an illusion, which would mean this man also had something in common with him, interestingly enough.

As he scanned the room to check for the source of the phantom funny man, he detected something much more interesting, and was as a result quite prepared when their real host popped in behind him to make her little comment.

A camera in the center of one of his mecha-tendril claws leaned in to get a closer look at her as the man in control of it casually replied “Really now? That is quite last century thinking, my dear” and intentionally leaving it quite unclear as to whether it was the assumption that he’d hold back against women or that he’d was only ‘gentlemanly’ towards women that he was correcting.

Naturally, it was both. He was sitting opposite a prime example of why the former was a foolish notion, after all, but was unfortunately bereft of any fine specimens with which to demonstrate the error in her assumption of the latter.

At any rate, after her little hazing game the woman, Acacia, formally introduced herself and filled them in on some extra details that hadn’t been in the invitation. A little presumptuous, he thought, to assume they were all already onboard, but the apparent need for expediency, and lack, it seemed, of many viable candidates, did mean it made sense.

If anyone did back out now it would be pretty disastrous given their low numbers.

Said expediency would apparently see them heading out the very next morning, which did not leave a lot of time for preparations. The self declared Red queen seemed like she was ready to go right this very moment, flashily donning a set of magical armor and summoning a fascinating looking great axe as she declared as such, and Fae was, as it turned out, somewhat in the same camp as her.

“I’m able to prepare whatever we need on the fly,” he informed them, before placing one mecha-tendril claw above the other and having them spin rapidly for a few moments as they printed a living photosynthesizing rose out of thin air. He caught it in one claw, took a moment to breathe in its authentic scent, and then handed it to one of the servers, who he informed that “it would look lovely sticking out of your breast pocket, my good sir” before focusing back on the group.

“Weapons, ammunition, medicine, you name it, I can produce it” he informed them, before adding an addendum that “it does take some time to make the more complicated items however, so I shall endeavor to find out a bit about this island chain we are being sent too and manufacture/acquire a few things accordingly ahead of schedule”

He also had a few affairs to take care of as well. He might be a free agent, but it would hardly be prudent of him to simply up and disappear on his various associates and clients now would it? Plus, no one had sworn him to any kind of secrecy, as much as that has been implied, so he was certainly considering filling in a few trusted members of his movement on a detail or two on the nature of this matter.