Inertia

*✧･ﾟ:* ᴍᴏᴅᴇʀɴ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄ *:･ﾟ✧*

Location: Mansion Kitchen

@CleverUsername - Mira, @ThisIsFine - Ceobes

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Mark cringed internally at Ceobes' comment towards the girl but chose to not show it. So the man was 'the' infamous Ceobes. His parents allowed him to form his own opinion about the wayward witch. Mark finished his drink and placed his cup on the kitchen counter. "Naturally." He replied to his comment about young people keeping with keeping the magical arts alive. "I'll be sure to attend."

"I'm Mark," He said, "Mark Crowe."

*✧･ﾟ:* ᴍᴏᴅᴇʀɴ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄ *:･ﾟ✧*

Location: Crowe household -> Mansion Grounds -> Kitchen

@CleverUsername - Mira, @ThisIsFine - Ceobes

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Mark let out a breath, pale skin basking in the sun's piercing warmth. His black overcoat draped behind him as the wind blew it back with each step. He was dressed in his usual fare- a white turtleneck that clung to his form and black skinny jeans with not much else. His family informed him of a certain member's return- one he's read about in the history book for his 'unorthodox' methods of attaining power. If nothing else, he also heard he would be teaching a class. It was something that peaked the young witch's interest, to say the least.

He arrived at the foot of the mansion. His eyes scanned the building through sliding glasses. It was quite a sight everytime he saw it- something about the building oozed history and prestige. Still, he always thought that it stood out, in a kind of "Hey Witches are in here" way. He pushed his glasses up and entered, giving a curt nod and short greeting to those that met his eyes.

As if a ritual, he made his way to the kitchen and found two figures conversing. Not one to interrupt he fixed himself a glass of water and parked himself by a corner and quietly observed the two. One was clearly not a Witch, which was an odd sight. The other was a witch of quite some power. The male Witch reminded him of his parents in terms of the 'magic' he exuded, maybe even his grandparents. He might've been the 'returning' Coven member, but he couldn't be certain.

He took small sips and, if either of the two met his eyes, smiled around around his cup. "Oh~ don't mind me."

*✧･ﾟ:* ᴍᴏᴅᴇʀɴ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄ *:･ﾟ✧*

Mark Crowe

Age: 23
Gender: Male
Species: Witch

Magic specialties:
The Crowe family are strict traditionalist who lean and specialize in Theurgy and Divination. As such, Mark is well versed in these forms of magic- being trained from birth. However, his preferred focus lie in the more self-reliant magics, as he has a marked distaste for magic that requires 'permission' from higher deities. Magic that require in-depth research and studies, like Spellcasting and Potion Making, are his preference. Recently, he's been dipping in toes in creation of an odd, new form of magic- one where he can 're-program' objects and similar, but it is a work-in-progress.

Personality:
Mark is an independent sort. His familial traditions of over-reliance on Theurgy and Divination magic have drilled into him a sense of free and maverick way of thinking. The very idea of begging and kneeling to a higher deity whose whims may change disgusted him. He openly criticizes his family's modus operandi, and seeks to move his family's reliance on deific magics to more self-reliant magic.

Due to his independence he is very motivated and driven. He often disappear for days, burying himself in his research and books to improve himself and his magic. Mark is more in tune with the 'newer generation', having little to no troubles acclimating and adapting to newer technologies and advancements. He is even able to program, giving him an idea for, what he calls '21st century magic'.

Mark is usually soft-spoken and appears deathly calm. He enjoys having the odd conversation or two on debates about magic and its applications with fellow Coven members. His loyalty to his family and fellow coven members is absolute and he seeks to improve each and every witches' lives if he can help it. He also has a bit of a dry sarcastic streak.

Appearance:
Mark stands at 5'9" tall, sporting a slender and muscular frame. He believes that a healthy mind lives in a healthy and fit body- as such he frequents the gym and keeps himself in shape. His eyes are a deepset, dull amber that seems to pierce right through you. Living up to his family's namesake, his hair resembles a crow-like black which contrasts against his naturally pale skin. He usually keeps it in a lazy side-swept style.

He seems to have a preference towards white and comfortable clothing- particularly having a liking towards turtlenecks.

History:
The Crowe family are a long-standing family of witches. They were there during the original founding of the Rosenthal Coven and have been members until present day. Their focus is on Divination and Theurgy. Their most recent son, Mark, showed an unapologetic distaste for their family's focus. He knew of their bloodied history of Witch Hunters. Causing him to believe Divination and Theurgy to be a fool's tale.

While still, very reluctantly, learning of his family's forte, he also begun to learn Spellcasting and Potion Making when he turned thirteen. And recently has begun his work on 'newer' magic. All in an effort of being able to do 'something' for his family when, not if, the hunters come knocking.

The Prince's Royal Guard

Acrius felt a stiff cold breeze enter the room as the door opened to reveal Balthazar. If he was being honest, being under the strict and cold eyes of Balthazar was magnitudes worse than receiving (an albeit loud and shouting) reprimand from Siegfried. From the two 'figures', he much preferred the scoldings of the latter over the former. When Balthazar was furious, the cold air seeped into every vestibule. It was a rare occurence, although that fact alone made it more terrifying when it did occur.

"Of course." Acrius stood up and stared back at the spymaster's unfeeling gaze. The boy wasn't one to cower and hide behind excuses. He readjusted his stance and folded his arms behind his back before he continued.

"... I'll report the pertinent sections." He said, "As you are aware, it was only myself and Naysein with the Prince. Naysein was by His Highness while I 'sampled' the food nearby."

"I felt eyes observing me but I thought it to be nothing but nerves and a trick of the city," Acrius paused before continued, "... My suspicions proved true when I spied one of the 'citizens' drop clear liquid onto a buffet meant to be served to the Prince."

"I thrashed the food myself and warned a servant to tell the Prince to not eat any of the food." He grimaced at his words, "That proved to be a mistake. Instead I should have secured the Prince myself... because the Servant also seemed to be an accomplice."

"On my side I chased and then managed to fend off two of them but one slipped my grasp." He said, "I personally captured the other and applied... ahem, emergency medical 'procedures' via cauterization. I believe he is in the cells."

"Another bit of information is that they coated their weapons with the same liquid." Acrius let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding, "They seemed to think it paralyzed me when they thought it scratched me."

"That concludes my report." Acrius said, "I'll accept my punishment for failing to protect Prince Leonidas."

Just Another Hero

Tag(s): @BlackMaiden@sly13

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Luckily, Keiji's brother just huffed and left the crowd as soon as he said his piece. Still, he was excited to be under one of the pillars, even if infamous. If anything, he was grateful as he's recently hit a plateau in his skill. The last time he's seen any noticeable change was when he pushed past his body's normal limit. All he could remember was seeing red mist and then promptly losing consciousness. When he woke up, his parents warned him to never do that again.

These thoughts swam in his head as they pulled up to Snake-Eyes' agency. As expected of a pillar's agency, it looked extremely wealthy, to say the least. His own family's agency wasn't anything to scoff at, but it looked minuscule in comparison. He quietly followed Snake-Eyes to the training room.

"Oh?" An unconscious smirk tugged at Keiji's face as Snake-Eyes mentioned a spar. A spar against one of the pillars wasn't an opportunity to be squandered. Wining or losing barely mattered to him, just the very fact that he has the chance to fight Snake-Eyes was enough for him to activate his power. A slasher-like smile began to etch itself on his face. It had begun, his berserker-like state had reared its head.

Dietrich had replied and activated his power, which Keiji didn't seem to notice. His body began to heat up as his quirk churned. The ground cracked as he kicked off and appeared above Snake-Eyes, his leg cocked into a flying crescent kick aimed at her head.

DIVINE INTERVENTION

Jin's compatriots seemed to be doing well from the little glimpses he could ascertain through his periphery. There also seemed to be another female priest who joined them. While sustaining some injury, everyone seemed alive and have dispatched a number of the satanists. While the Korean priest would rather it end with their lives in-tact, reality was cruel. He needed to focus. He cleared his mind and decided to focus on the dual-wielding satanist in-front of him. The satanist seemed more incensed and dangerous after Jin's failed plea. His movements were more reckless; larger openings were more present but his strikes became more deadly as a result. It was as if he wanted to take someone down with him- A suicidal gambit of sorts.

Jin held his tonfa aloft, in a defensive reverse stance. The satanists leap at him with a diving, stabbing motion. In response, the scarred priest sidestepped but the dual-wielding satanist flipped and reversed his grip and slashed at his chest. The wound was shallow, because of his light armour and Jin preemptively diving backwards as the stroke dug into his chest. The newly-formed wound still bled, however. It became more and more unlikely that he'd be able to finish the battle without either risking his life or killing the Satanist. Both options equally horrible for the mild-mannered priest.

The Satanist didn't give him time to formulate any sort of tactic either. He consistently swung as he pushed Jin backwards, the priest had to steady his footing whilst deflecting attacks. Each strike came sequentially and never from the same angle. A diagonal swing with a horizontal swing. A strike that came from opposite sides, an upwards and downwards strike in tandem. Such strikes were employed by his enemy.

Metallic clinks resounded in the room as blows and exchanges ended neutrally or in the favour of the dual-wielder. One seemed to be going for killing strokes while the other seemed to want to avoid doing so, forming a sort of odd stalemate as both danced through the dining room.

A slash coming from two sides was blocked with his grip, a sabaton sunk into Jin's stomach right after. Another upwards stroke followed quickly before Jin could even register he was kicked. The priest was no slouch in the endurance department, the kick not seeming to faze him in the slightest, as he sidestepped the attack. He switched his left baton into a normal grip and, with as much force as he could muster, bludgeoned the Satanist's shoulder. A sickening crunch could be heard as the dual-wielder yelped in pain.

A sword flew to his face. The stroke would've found itself in his eye if not for his animalistic reflexes. He turned his head just enough for it to miss his head, instead it embedded itself into his cheek as it sailed by. He turned his head in the direction of the stroke to minimize the damage but it didn't help much. With a quick hop backwards, blood dripped onto the once pristine floors. Jin clutched his cheek as it began bleeding profusely. The pain was nearly mind-numbing; his brain in over-drive due to the pain but he pushed through it with not so much as a yowl.

Part of the reason why he was hit was because he didn't expect the Satanist to be able to also ignore his shoulders cracking into pieces and still counter-attack. It was an unexpected variable, was it the 'faith' in their mission that gave them such endurance? It was nearly as fervent as the priest's own. The side of his cut mouth pulsed in pain, as he pressed onto it to stave off the bleeding.

Both combatants stared at each other; one's hand was unusable as it hung downwards, arm all but useless with a shattered shoulder. The other had to use every ounce of sheer will-power to not succumb to the pain. Jin also had to drop one of his batons to place pressure on his cheek. It was clear with their ragged breathing and weaker postures that the fight was nearing its end. Even still, both seemed to be looking for openings to end the fight once and for all. With Jim's condition, someone would need to step in to break stalemate in place.

Just Another Hero

Tag(s): Everyone present

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Keiji led his brother to the Miyako common room, he had forgotten his wallet in there. The two Matsushimas stood out and there were more than a few students staring as the duo passed them. The juxtaposition of the lucky-go-happy Matsushima and the ever stoic and cold Matsushima was a striking contrast. "Come-on brother," Keiji looked back to his brother, "... Smile! You are trying to recruit some students to dear old dad's firm, right?" His brother grunted in response.

Upon arriving there, more than a few notable names were present. Keiji recognized the infamous Villain killer, Yusuke Enishi, a notable hero even outside of the Pillars. An Īda, Hotwheels, Keiji felt a pang of sympathy considering the situation with her brother, Enka. And finally another Todoroki, Todoroki Shakuko. This was the first time he's ever laid eyes on three Todoroki dynasties in the same place. Keiji didn't catch any of their conversations as they've just arrived. Hideaki's aura seemed to get colder, as if a wave of cold air pulsed from the man.

"Well, well," Hideaki called out to the gathering of heroes, his voice deep and raspy, "If it isn't Snake-Eyes, the illustrious fourth pillar."

"The one to 'train' our talents; Dietrich Konig and my younger brother... right?" Hideaki continued, his expression nor tone not betraying the intent of his message.

"Brother please-" Keiji tried to calm his brother but was pacified with a glare. Hideaki seemed to get like this around Snake-Eyes.

"I do hope that you atleast give them back to us in the same state we've lent them to you as." Hideaki almost spat out.

Keiji shifted uncomfortably in place. He wanted to apologize to the Snake-Eyes but he felt like it'd just make the situation worse.

Just Another Hero

Tag(s): @BlackMaiden@sly13

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The cute little girl almost looked confused to be addressed, like someone taught the her to not speak to strangers. It seemed that she was looking for Hasaki Todoroki. "I can lead you to hi-" He was interrupted by Hasaki himself. Keiji shook his head as both conversed and thanked them, they seemed to know each other well enough so it'd likely be fine to leave both alone. "Don't mention it," Keiji patted his legs as he got up from the squatting position, "I really didn't do anything."

Mister? Keiji thought, The hair makes me look old, damned genes.

Both were Todoroki. One of the most illustrious families in Japan. Eyes were drawn to the two when they conversed further. Especially one being a possible successor of the Todoroki dynasty and his apparent younger sister. Though Keiji had little dealing with Hasaki as they were from different classes, he was never this tame. Hasaki reminded him of Dietrich, so seeing him like this was surreal.

Keiji glanced at his watch and became a little wide-eyed. "I really gotta go," He mumbled before calling out to the Todoroki sibilings who were leaving, "Hold her tight so she doesn't get lost, Hasaki... Oh and I know I'm not your representative but be there at the internship recruitment thing."

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"Hey Big Bro, didn't keep you waiting too long right?" Keiji asked, a goofy grin on his face. His brother, Hideaki, was not as amused, his red eyes were cold as he looked down on his brother. Keiji definitely made him wait too long.

"Well, you can glare at me later," Keiji said, "Come-on, let's go."

Just Another Hero

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Keiji's interlaced knuckles turned white as the broadcast ended. It seems that his suspicions were confirmed. Even his family's been in a stir, try as they might to keep it under wraps. The general atmosphere of the firm just felt warped. Sasuke's idea to bring both classes into the know seemed a tad reckless. Still, it was better to know than be left in the dark.

Keiji listened to Sasuke's words before letting a smile seep onto his face. Sasuke seemed to be atleast be driven by a desire to help the classes than himself... probably. His smile faltered as the boy began to speak about their ex-class representative- Īda Enka. Īda was a reliable, if a bit flamboyant, and diligent representative. One could always count on him to come through, so his betrayal stung all the more. It was sort of a whiplash to Keiji and he wasn't as close to him as others, so he couldn't imagine how the others felt.

What was more surprising was that Keiji was to replace Īda as the male class representative rather than Dietrich... or even Hatsumi. The fact that he was named class representative was something that gave him pause- he's never had such stringent responsibilities set on him. Nevertheless, Keiji accepted the position and has been trying his best to fulfill his role. He's pretty much has had to rely on Oda to take care of his many short-comings, which made him remember to get her a thank-you gift sometimes int he future.

Keiji listened to his Shinon then Amaya's words and internally thanked them. He wasn't exactly one for disagreements but it seems like there's a certain expectation from his classmates that he should defend their class. Their death stares directed at Sasuke seemed to indicate as such.

Keiji got up his seat and sauntered over to Sasuke's location and approached his side. "Now, now, Sasuke," He said, slinging his arm over the irritable boy smiling all the while, "Aurora's right, It's not the time for us to be divided, Classes A and B should be united to strengthen each other."

"Riling up rivalries between our classes isn't exactly Student Council President material," Keiji unslung his arm and gripped Sasuke's shoulder, "... is it?"

Truth be told, Keiji was undecided if he would even shoot for that kind of a position. It seemed like an indoctrinate amount of work and other people seemed more deserving.

"But... it's as class rep Sasuke has said," Keiji turned to his colleagues, "Be sure to attend the recruitment, please. I don't want to hear that someone's skipped a mandatory event... again."

"That said, I'll excuse myself early as I have to meet my brother," He continued, walking to the exit, "If any of you need anything, just call me."

Keiji stepped out of the Miyako Common Room and made his way outside. The wave of students and people made it hard to do so, but he could mostly move around or power through the wave. This was before he saw a small, helpless girl seemingly frozen in the current of people. Being who he is, Keiji dropped his current task to help. His brother could wait, probably. He made his way to the girl and squatted at the girl (@BlackMaiden). Luckily the crowd seemed to notice this and gave both of them some space.

"Hello there," Keiji said, "I don't mean to pry but, are you lost by chance?"

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Hideaki Matsushima arrived at the entrance of Eirei Academy. His black limousine was dismissed with a wave of the hand as he stared at the building. It had been a few years since his graduation from it but he still feels like home in the institution. Hideaki adjusted his cuffs and crushed his cigarette before throwing it into a bin. With an icy look he scanned the premises, trying to find his brother whom promised to meet him before the internship recruitment drive.

His parents had given him this task to be the representative of the Matsushima firm. He's been told that this internship drive is important and he should perform his best to gain the most performers. Keiji had complained that he was too cold and "pretty intimidating", to be able to do the recruitment 'properly'. As such his younger brother had put him through drills on how to smile with your eyes.

A small smile cracked on his frosty exterior. ... Runt has the audacity to say I am not charismatic? Hideaki thought, glad that his brother was being proactive as he is. This smile also seemed to scare a random passerby who glimpsed his expression.

Now... where was his precocious brother?

Hoseforn’s Academy for Gifted Adventurers

Tag(s): Everyone

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Ixius felt drained, to say the least. Physically, his body was screaming out at being forced to go at Calven's pace and then being pinned by an Arrow for Dex. Mentally, he was grasping on to any thread of reason that prevented him from killing a fellow Magus. One of the tenets of the Librarium was the absolute restriction of confratricide (To kill one's fellow colleague), but still, there had to be an exception to every rule, right? Mana circulated and gathered within Ixius, then stopped, then started again; this cycle repeated a few times before fully settling. The waves of spiking and throttling mana could be felt by anyone who was even a tiny bit proficient in sensing mana.

As the 'warm-up' came to an end, he stared daggers at the oblivious blond. The red-eyed magus was practically fuming as he pushed down the rage and the vomit scratching its way up his throat. He controlled his breathing, mostly to catch his own breath and restore some stamina as the students lined up. Ixius once again stood in the 'at-ease' position. His rage was still palpable, but less so. It was clear who it was directed at. Unfortunately, he only heard bits and pieces from Sir Vermont as he was busy trying to calm himself down.

Ixius watched the (objectively speaking) beautiful teacher's 'performance'. It was other-worldly... for swordsmen. Still, to be able to put that much effort in anything is to be commended, even with an inefficient method of combat. That, and his fears of Instructor Maya being dangerous were true. He was unsure if anything less than an Arch-Magus... no maybe a Grand Arch-Magus could fight evenly with this teacher.

The mannequins too were quite something else. It was clear that they were moving with magic, but it was extremely advanced and subtle. Sir Vermont had mentioned that they 'adapt' to your skill-level, which was interesting. Ixius couldn't put his finger on exactly how they would adjust to an opponent's strength on the fly, so it was impressive to him.

The fight continued... it was like an enrapturing dance. Ixius, to no one's surprise, couldn't quite keep up with the faster sections. He's always had an observing eye, but most of the intricacies of the fight went over his head. All he could tell was that; Maya was extremely skilled for a swordsman, and that the mannequins could somehow even provide a challenge to her. Even that moment mid-air, she somehow maneuvered the dodge an incoming attack.

The fight had essentially ended in a flash. Slow when they circled each other but too fast for his eyes when they clashed. Still, as impressive as the display was... learning magic seemed to be more superior to him- less risk whilst having much superior fire power. What can a sword do to a slew of fireballs sent from a singular mage's chant. Besides, unlike steel weaponry and armour, magic's the type of thing to never break, right?

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Ixius stepped up against a training dummy. It readied itself against him as the magus drew a blank. Wait, how does one even begin a fight without magi- Ixius thought as the dummy raised its fist and hooked him across the face. That was how. He looked inwards, into his memory, had he even read any book pertaining to such? As another fist came flying towards his face, he remember that he'd read one in passing, that an adventurer left in their libraries, to laugh at it.

A basic block, the cross-block was within the first few pages. Ixius tried his best to emulate the block; he held his fist up in a cross-like fashion, causing the oncoming fist to land land on his right forearm. Defend the face, that was the basics... I think. The mannequin seemed to note this and jumped backwards, but just in range for a kick. The magus looked at only one other move before he scoffed and threw the book back on the table he found it.

It was a twisting kick, a round-house kick. The same kick that Maya had performed for the students to the last mannequin. To some it may appear he was simply mimicking the instructor but it really was the only kick he read from the book.

As the mannequin landed, Ixius tried to recall the movement. Bring his leg up to the side and snapping his entire body sideways into a spin. Well, the 'kick' was a kick, if you could call it that. The kick missed its mark by quite a bit, and it barely reached the top of the mannequins chest. It didn't help that he was also out of stamina, so his body couldn't quite match up with his mind's vision. As his kick found no landing he spun further and exposed his sides to the mannequin who took no time to take advantage of the opening.

With a swift front kick Ixius was thrown to the dirt as he didn't have steady footing after the kick. Ixius pushed his body up and punched the dirt as he heard a few faint giggles from the eyes watching him. He would get this mannequin without magic or he'd be damned. No swordsman nor combat class would get the better of him, even if inferior. That and he was a tad sick of being shoved and pulled around.