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The Dead Savant


The man walked into the room. He was wearing a business suit and it was clear he did not usually belong here, in the room full of forensic evidence teams and officers, whilst the flat was surrounded with police tape. He pulled the forensic gloves on before walking to the other man. This fellow was slightly more appropriately dressed; he wore a black leather jacket with an FBI badge on the pocket and tracksuit trousers. “Identity?” asked the first man to the FBI agent. “Estari Imale, although he went by Rich Brook.” The FBI agent replied “I assume you’ve heard of his work on cancer. He was a Physic Healer, and as such was attempting to find out the source of his powers to turn it into a drug.” The man turned, eyes widened, obviously he had heard of the man, but not of his death. “Cause of death?” He asked the agent.
“Unknown, as of yet, it looks like suicide, but I think there’s foul play on-going here. All eyewitnesses that we’ve spoken to say that he was acting very different for the past two days. There’s also nothing in his personal life that would give him reason to commit suicide. That’s where you come in.” The agent replied coolly, apparently he was used to dealing with the unexpected in his line of work.
“What do you want me for? I suppose you want me to call together a team?” The man asked. The FBI agent nodded. The man left, he would return to his flat and start up the machine. He had finished it a few months ago, and it boosted his telepathic powers, allowing him to hook up to the mobile network and contact people through it using his mind. The FBI agent was obviously a savant and a Physic Shield by the looks of it, considering that he’d had no read on him, it was always useful to have a man on the inside. The man got out a list of people and began contacting them one by one.

Summary: A well-known (amongst the savant community) savant has been found dead in his home. He was working for the FBI on a top secret case and his suicide is being treated as suspicious. You have been called together by a long range telepath to investigate his death.
A Savant is the term for people in the universe who have extraordinary powers. You would have been born into a family of Savants (it’s genetic) and few people outside the Savant community know of its existence. The FBI (and other major organisations in the Western World, I.E. MI6, DGSE, Interpol…) recruit and use savants on a global scale, as their powers make them very useful for fighting crime but only few in each organization who are non-savants know of their existence.

Character Sheet: I borrowed from everywhere here, with a few tweaks of my own.

Savant Name: (All savants take two names, their savant name which they are born with, and they discover at the age of five, and a human name. Two Savants will never have the same savant name)

Human Name: (The alias that Savants normally use e.g. John Smith)

Gender: (Self-Explanatory)

Age: (Self-Explanatory. You’re a government operative remember, so you’re at least 20.)

Appearance: (What do you look like?)

Skills: Everybody starts with 6 points with which to place on skills, each skill can only have a maximum of three points on it and the choice of skills is entirely up to you and can be as broad or narrow as you wish (OP’s Note: If anybody is rash enough to choose “everything” as a skill I will have them shouted to death by the Knights who say Ni in my opening post.) this is how the levels work.

Lvl 0- Average - This is a completely free skill and you may have as many as you like (within reason) these skills represent bare bones knowledge such as basic first aid or a couple of days learning Karate, meaning you might be able to pull off a successful karate chop but try a roundhouse kick and fall over.

Lvl 1- Good – This represent either some kind of formal training or natural talent but could be improved.

Lvl 2 – Advanced – Not only has your character had formal training but is in fact pretty good at this particular skill and so stands a high chance of success.

Lvl 3 – Expert - you are one of the best in your particular field and although failure can still happen it isn’t likely for instance a veteran marine sniper would have a lvl 3 in Marksmanship. You are only allowed 1 Expert, however, your powers are assumed lvl 3 as well. So technically, if you include your powers you can have 2 Experts.

These work in exactly the same way as skills albeit in reverse (-1 minor, -2 major (there is no -3). For obvious reasons there are no lvl 0 flaws) and as such are completely optional. However for each -1 flaw you take you may take an additional 1 skill point.
So for instance if I was to take stupidity as a -2 flaw I could then spend an additional 2 points on something else the down side being that should I find a clue, I might mistake it for a piece of trash and toss it out of a window. Flaws cover everything from disabilities, phobias, character flaws and being just plain rubbish at something.

Here are some skills that you might want to take into consideration.
Melee: (Unarmed fighting and fighting with melee weapons which is anything from a barstool to a double edged axe.)
Ranged: (How skilled you are with a bow or guns)
Investigation: (Your skills of noticing clues and deduction.)
Strength: (How strong you are)
Athletics: (How fast and agile you are)
Endurance: (Your stamina and vitality)
Sneaking: (How well you can move about without being seen.)

Power: (What power do you have? For a list see below.)

Equipment: (what you carry on you, so weapons, or medical kit or whatever takes your fancy.)

Bio: (Who are you, how did you come to be working as a savant for the government, etc.)

List of Powers:
Physic Shield: Physic Powers don’t affect you, however, you can lower your shields or even extend them to protect other people.
Bio-Control: The power to completely control your own body function. Including, slowing or speeding regeneration, stopping heart rate, breathing, pain response, and so on.
Cyberkinesis: The ability to control technology, e.g. jamming a gun, or unlocking a lock or controlling a car.
Cyberpathy: The ability to access and operate software systems without physical access and break any firewall or password or encryption.
Psychic Healing: The ability to manipulate healing response to extreme degree (Cure diseases, heal major wounds.) Gives understanding of patient physiology and what is wrong with the patient as well. (Controllable)
Psychometry: The ability to see the history attached to objects or people. (Controllable)
Teleportation: The ability to transport yourself and other things with you from one place to different place (either that you can see or that you have visited before).
Pyrokinesis: The ability to start and control fire.
Telekinesis: The ability to move objects of varying weights at varying speeds
Telepathy: The ability to read and project thought, also can serve as a conduit for telepathic conversations (so if they connect to two people at once then those two people can converse through their head). (Controllable)
Invulnerability: You can temporarily absorb all energy and matter that could harm you, e.g. you can take the full force of a rocket launcher.
Adaptability: If you’ve ever seen X-Men: First Class, then think Darwin. If not, then you can change your body to grow gills or cope with extreme cold or extreme heat, you adapt to your surroundings.
Invisibility:You and any clothes you are wearing or anything you are directly holding that is not bigger than yourself will turn invisible for a short period of time. You give a slight shimmer when you walk.
Super Strength: Self explanatory
Mirage: Ability to make copies of yourself or someone else. However, these copies are ghosts and as such will vanish upon impact with anything.
Mental Manipulation: To be able to project illusions and cause people to think they are seeing, feeling or hearing something they are not and to be able to brainwash (requires eye contact to brainwash)
Force Field: Create a force field that saps the energy of the person for every hit it takes. (energy drained is linked to force of the hit).
Energy Drain: The ability to drain a person’s energy. (Controllable).
Mimic: The ability to take on the shape or form (and therefore physique) of any person.
Explosion Inducement: Ability to make things explode, or make a ball of pure energy that explodes.
Super Speed: Self explanatory
Magnokinesis: The ability to control magnetic and/or metal items. (Think Neo’s ability to stop bullets in The Matrix).
Adoptive Muscle Memory: The power to replicate movement after observation.
Pain Inducement: The ability to induce extreme pain on the target. (Note: does not work on Physic Shield)
Emotiopath: The ability to read emotions, such as happiness, sadness, love and even tell if someone is lying.
This is just a list of powers that I made personally. I will of course accept any other powers within reason and with discussion.

1. Obey the Campfire Rules
2. For powers such as Clairvoyance or Psychometry, you write a post such as “Sam touched the object and let its history flow through him”, at which point I will describe what the history is etc.
3. I retain the right that should I consider your post god-modding I am allowed to contact Regal and inform him as such with reasons although I will usually PM you first to ask you to edit it.
4. If you’re unsure as to whether your post is god-modding or meta-gaming then you can PM it to me and I’ll tell you.
5. This is modern day, no laser guns or what have you. The only difference is the existence of Savants.
6. You work for the government, act as such, no unjustified killings etc.
7. All character sheets must be approved by me before joining the RP. Just PM me with the character sheet and I’ll say if it’s ok or if I have any issues with it.

That's all for this intro post. I'm looking forward to this and hope everyone enjoys this as much as I've enjoy preparing the scenarios for it!

EDIT: One final note. All characters must be able to speak English fluently but can be from elsewhere. Be inventive! (With telepaths around they can transfer knowledge of a language so they don't have to be from another country and a linguist).
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Savant Name: Masque Rouge

Human Name: Harper Song

Gender: Usually Male or Female

Age: 34

Appearance: ?

Skills: Lockpicking (1), Investigation (1), Music (singing and piano) (2), Melee (1), Subterfuge (2), Sneaking (1), Athletics (0), Strength (0)

Distrusting (-1), Ranged (-1)

Power: Mimic

Equipment: Small round Mirror, Lockpicks, Voice Recorder, Knife

Bio: "Harper Song" first began helping the FBI about ten years ago, following an incident that required a lot of help from the US government in keeping things quiet. They've changed names a couple times since them, with Harper being the most recent one. They are an invaluable asset for undercover work, though both monetary incentives and some finesse are required most times they are hired. Due to their ability and having little information on their background, they are generally difficult to track down whenever they do change their name, but programs are in place to watch their accounts, which have not changed since tracking was put in place. If not currently working with the FBI, Harper can generally be found performing in bars and restaurants as a singer and pianist.


"Rich Brook case, recording one. Hey there, it's been a while. Looks like they found me again, though it's not exactly like I was hiding all that well. I mean, sure being a singer at upscale places pays well and has the best outfits, but it isn't exactly inconspicuous. Not to mention I didn't even change my name from the last time I had an assignment with the g-men. Sure, I like the idea of something themed like that, plus Harper doesn't get me weird looks regardless of my own looks, but it's too easy to track me down like this. Besides, I'm pretty sure I never shook them in the first place, bet they have an eye on all my accounts. Freaking tech wizards. Better go inform my manager that I have to go, maybe tell him it's a family emergency or something. Wonder if I can get a last minute bonus... Should be able to keep you around this time though, sounds like it's just some investigation work instead of an undercover assignment like last time. Hopefully... it won't be too bad this time, I'm not sure if I could go through that again. Positivity. Tracking down the bad guys and putting them behind bars. Then they'll let me go, quit asking me to help them, regardless of how well they pay. Tear up the record of that incident instead of waving it in my face every time they have a problem that they need me to solve. Maybe this will finally be enough..."

The attractive, dark haired woman slowly put the voice recorder down next to her on the bed, staring at her hands as they shook violently. A scarlet evening gown accentuated absolutely everything about her, from the neat bob she'd had her hair cut to to her lipstick and eye shadow. The small room she was in comprised of half of her small apartment, with a little kitchenette and table barely visible through the half-opened door. The bedside table was occupied by a large letter, a powered-off cell phone, a note pad, and a bottle of wine. She picked up the pad again, staring at her own unsteady handwriting from noting down what the telepath had said. He'd sounded invested in this, more of a higher-up than a messenger boy, though he'd obviously given his spiel at least a couple of times already. He'd also known about her record and that she'd be more cooperative if she were reminded of it. Training for agents was wonderful, as usual. She set the paper back down next to the wine and moved the voice recorder to join it. Not that she was really that angry with him, she'd probably have done the same thing in his place, after all. Not trusting herself with a glass, Harper reached over to the bottle, carefully raising it to her lips to take a swig, then another as her hands started to steady a little. It probably wasn't healthy to drink like this, but she'd need all the help that she could get if she wanted to get any sleep tonight. Plenty of time in the morning to figure out her future.

Later the next day, Harper found himself in an upscale meeting room in New York. He'd never actually been in this particular room, but the impression was the same as many others he'd been in. Likewise, the plane ride wasn't anything spectacular, though given that there hadn't been any delays he'd count that as a good day. He'd arrived to the room before anyone else had, though that wasn't real surprising. Few others respected the influence that home territory gave them. He'd changed his appearance to that of a young, earnest looking businessman he'd shaken hands with a few years back, hoping to appeal to the other members of the team. The button-up shirt and slacks only helped to accentuate the appearance of youth and professionalism. His hands still shook, but there wasn't anything he could do about that. Just sit there and wait for the rest of the team and whoever was in charge to arrive.
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Lord Regal

Well-Known Member
Savant Name: Grellad Galae

Human Name: Giles Alexander

Gender: Male

Age: 24

Appearance: Giles stands at 6'4" tall, with long limbs. He's lean and athletic looking. his hair is dyed a mixture of pale green and blue, with a little of his natural white thrown in for taste. His left eye is partially hidden by his hair, which comes to a point beyond the eye. He wears a green vest and jacket, red tie, a white undershirt with matching pants and shoes, and green gloves to complete his look. Essentially looks like this, minus the spikes of white coming away from his head (the white's more artistically speckled than that).

Skills: Charismatic (3), Athletic (2), intelligent (2), strength (1), appraisal (1), investigation (0), performance (general) (0)

Flaws: Vain (-1), flirt (-1), afraid of the dark (-1)

Power: Can create two single edged swords colored green to match his entourage, and wields them with natural skill. He is only skilled with his summoned blades, any other weapon is clunky and unwieldy in his hands. While they’re summoned, his combat senses become unnaturally sharp, giving his reaction times a boost. Also has an ability to keep his appearance pristine.

Equipment: A white belt with a couple pouches hanging off it, with a completely unnecessary green strap from one end of his belt to his opposite shoulder for style. Currently one pouch is empty, the other has a saran wrapped sandwich.

Bio: Grellad/Giles was born into a family of savants who use their powers purely for frivolous use. They considered themselves above all other people, and thus could only really flex their powers amusing each other. Thus, when Giles manifested his own ability, he was expected to use it mainly for entertainment purposes, likely sword juggling, swallowing, and other such activities. However, he was struck with what his family considered delusions of grandeur, wanting to do some good with his gift. When he refused to drop these notions when ordered to, he was disowned. Subsequently, he found out about the savant pool employed by the various security forces and eagerly signed up.
Despite his differences from his family, Giles has kept some of their quirks. His appearance is considered eccentric at best, and he inherited the natural talent for keeping that visage the way he wants it. He doesn’t fuss in front of a mirror because he doesn’t have to…he looks how he wants to, and he knows it. He appears to be permanently in a good mood, rolling with the punches smoothly as possible. The only thing that seems to give him pause is mention of his family, as he still has some hang-ups about his forced exit. He’s quick-witted and more intelligent than he lets on, keeping his true depths hidden behind an amiable nature. When not employed for his savant talents, he works at an antiques shop, appraising goods by drawing from his knowledge from his family.


The day began in a rather interesting manner, to say the least. After all, it’s not every day you wake up with another person in your head, informing you you needed to fly to New York immediately. It didn’t take long for Giles to realize that this was a summons he couldn’t refuse, and agreed. After the voice assured him his affairs would be taken care of while he was away, it faded. Unable to suppress a rather excited grin, the former aristocrat began getting ready for his day…they needed him…not Giles, but Grellad the Savant. After a quick shower, he dressed rapidly, feeling his hair dry almost instantly and snap into its proper position. Any slight miscalculation on his usual attire fixed itself as he moved to something else…oh yes, it was good having power.

After a quick packing of a couple identical changes of clothes (thrown in carelessly, he didn’t care how they were stored since they’d be flawless once he put them on) and some other necessities, he took off for the airport, the cool, clear Colorado air making him somewhat reluctant to leave…but damn it, he had a chance to put his talents to ACTUAL use now…he wasn’t going to pass it up. And besides, he’d be back in a couple days. A flight had been booked for him, and so he breezed through security and into his seat. It was coach, which was a little frustrating, but he at least got a window seat. The person next to him was a rather attractive young woman, and Giles had been just about to introduce himself when a man who was rather clearly involved with her (either that or she had another reason to have her hand in his) sat down in the aisle seat. “Of course she’s taken…” he groused to himself, though he could at least look for free.

Upon landing in New York, Giles made a beeline for the meeting room, as it was too early to check into the hotel that had been booked for him. When he reached the designated area, he wheeled his suitcase into a corner before turning to look at the only other occupant. He was young person, dressed nicely for his age, though his hands were trembling somewhat, most likely from excitement. “Yello there, nice to meet ya!” he grinned at the man. “Giles Alexander, lesser known as Grellad Galae, at your service.” Here he bowed slightly, and while it wasn’t sarcastic, it wasn’t exactly earnest either. Plopping down into the seat across from the man, he quickly adopted a casual position, excitement for the upcoming events exuding from him. “So then, what can you do?” he inquired, head tilted curiously, question too honest to be anything but legitimately curious.
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The young man who walked into the room next was a marvel, tall with fairly long hair dyed an odd array of colors. Not to mention his odd array of clothing, green, green, and more green everywhere, on top of a bit of white and red, apparently more to highlight the green than anything. With the array of crazy clothing and an odd set of belts, probably for tool storage more than anything, the man looked more like an escapee from a fan convention than an investigator or government agent of any kind. Definitely one of the other "independent contractors," then. Had to be someone on the younger side, likely without too flashy of a power if Harper hadn't heard of him with that sort of appearance. The man finally proved how green he was to any sort of intelligence or espionage by introducing himself, both names, with a bow and a flourish. Harper had been an entertainer for too long to ignore how easy the gestures and language so similar to show material came to him. This was someone who knew how they appeared and loved it, someone with a flair for the dramatic, like a stage magician or a circus performer. Still, Harper felt himself relax, the easy nature and obvious excitement of the greenie allowing him to settle back into the routine of meeting and greeting as the new guy helped set the stage.

"Harper Song," he said casually, extending his hand to shake. "And green with envy to meet you, you really have to tell me where you got those clothes. Granted, since we're in New York I'll have the opportunity to do some really good shopping, but I doubt I'd be able to find that outfit on a shelf anywhere." It was true that he was interested in the clothing, given that Grellad's outfit was giving him a dreadful case of style envy, but the main point here was the distract from the direct question he'd been asked. It wasn't like he was totally averse to others knowing about his power or his name as a Savant, but he'd rather keep information under wraps as long as possible. Besides, he bet the greenie was just looking for conversation before they got into the meat of why they were here, if he found a topic that was interesting enough, he probably wouldn't accidentally stray to something painful.

Lord Regal

Well-Known Member
Giles shook the proffered hand warmly, his glove a very smooth, dull leather designed for comfort rather than protection, nodding easily as Harper introduced himself. He noticed that the man didn’t give his Savant name, nor did he give away what his power was. Perhaps it was rude to ask? Either that or he simply didn’t want to…regardless, he didn’t seem to take it personally, which was good. He’d be best filing away the information and be more polite next time. Instead, Harper focused on the unique clothing he was wearing, prompting a smile to appear on Giles’ face. He couldn’t help but appreciate compliments on his appearance…he prided himself on it, so it was always nice to hear others thinking along the same lines. “I get most of my things tailor-made, actually…it’s hard to find the styles in these colors on a showroom floor, as crazy as that is.” His tone made it apparent that he knew there wouldn’t be a huge demand for green clothes, despite his own personal desire for them. “As for the shirt and pants…they’re more common, but it just feels so much better having them custom made to fit you and you alone, right?” He stretched luxuriously as he explained, rubbing his hands over his hair. Any strands that had fallen astray snapped back into position once he returned to his simple lounging.

After a couple of seconds, Giles frowned slightly before sitting up a bit. “So, I have to ask, what should I be expecting? I mean, this is my first time out, I’m excited as hell, but I’m not really sure what we’ll be doing to help. You don’t look all that much older than me, but if you beat me here, and I flew halfway across the country to show up and still wound up the second one to arrive, I have to imagine in a hub like New York you’ve been a bit more active. Any advice you can give me would be appreciated, I’m here to help, learn, observe…” He shrugged lazily. “I’d like to be as helpful as possible, and that typically means having a clue of what I’m doing ahead of time.”
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Harper had noticed the gloves earlier and hadn't been happy to see them, but the nice feel helped to make up for that fact. Besides, it would have looked odd if he were shaking the hand of every person to walk into the room but those wearing gloves. As for the clothes... the man must have had plenty of money, to be able to afford tailored clothes like that, might even be from old money rather than having some sort of job that paid well enough for that. Or he was a veteran of these sorts of things, with a paycheck to match that and who worked with the g-men on a regular basis, though that was fairly unlikely. "I have issues with tailored clothes," he said offhandedly, leaning back in his own chair. "Everything I buy is off the shelf. Besides, I'd rather save a little on clothes for some other luxuries later."

The silence was just starting to edge towards comfortable when Giles opened his mouth again to speak, confirming Harper's suspicions that he was new to this. It was interesting that he'd figured out that Harper had more experience with this than him, as he'd picked this look to seem young enough to seem new, but professional enough that his input wouldn't be discounted. He'd probably seemed too comfortable in this room and Harper sighed inwardly that he'd have to play the veteran here. "I'm not actually from here," he started. "They flew me in from Vermont, which was nice of them. I got here just a couple minutes before you." He paused at this point to think about what to say, then leaned in close to Giles. "Someone's going to walk through that door in a little while and give us our orders. Some g-man probably, possibly a Savant, possibly some normal who's in the know. Listen to them, watch them, do what they say if it doesn't put you at risk, and don't trust them. Same with anyone else who comes in. Beyond that... you'll probably know what to do." Harper wasn't really comfortable giving any advice to someone who looked like he'd never made a worse mistake than accidentally dying his hair something that clashed with his outfit for the day. By the time he'd reached this man's age, he'd been working with the government for a couple years and made so many mistakes he'd stopped regretting any of the small ones.
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Savant Name: Dante

Human Name: Alexander Lynch

Gender: Male

Age: 28

Appearance: 6’ tall with shoulder length sandy blonde hair and at least a day’s worth of stubble, Dante seems to pride himself on his rugged appearance despite his military background.
He is often dressed in combat boots, black jeans, a T-shirt, a battered, dark brown leather jacket with a “Smiley” pin on his lapel and about his neck he wears a pair of dog tags.
On his right hand he wears a pair of silver rings (ones a skull the other has an engraved crucifix) and tattooed on his upper arm he has a military crest for a unit that doesn’t seem to exist. He also has several scars upon his body though other than a bullet wound in his side none are worth mentioning.

He looks a little like This"

Infiltration (2pts)
Counter intelligence (2pts)
Pistols (1pt)
Unarmed combat (1pts)
Electronic surveillance (1pt)
Military/Intelligence services contacts and favours (1pt)
Computer Hacking (1pt)
Intimidation (0pts)
First Aid (0pts)
Other small arms (0pts)
Chinese (0pts)
Ukrainian (0pts)
Iranian (0pts)

(Note: the languages are mainly odd phrases and profanities he has picked up whilst on the job)
Acerbic (-1)
Self-centred (-1)
Various bad habits (-1)

Power: Telekinesis

Equipment: .44 Ruger Redhawk, 12(-ish) Throwing Stars, “Smiley” Zippo lighter, pack of cigarettes, Laptop (With Samsonite case), clasp knife.

Bio: Born in Georgia, Alexander or Dante as he’d always preferred to be known as (not that he could ever really explain why) would have lived a pretty normal life for one with his abilities... had his parents not died in a car crash when he was barely out of his pushchair.
Adopted by a nice “normal” couple Dante lived on his adoptive family’s Georgia farm doing all the things regular children did. However by the time he was a teenager Dante had started going off the rails when his powers started to really manifest with his adoptive parents being completely unable to explain what was happening to him and to be quite frank becoming increasingly scared of their son’s fear induced temper tantrums that sent objects flying across the room. It was only his high school science teacher Mr White that was able to stop him from going completely insane; seeming to understand what he was going through and offer useful advice without ever actually speaking about the problem directly. Dante would have liked to have spent a little more time with him as he felt that there was something Mr White wasn’t telling him, something that he was one the cusp of discovering for himself if only he could have just a little more time and guidance. Sadly however his adoptive parents; his father especially was less than keen about him hanging around with people not his own age and so their time together was reduced to the few minutes before and after class. It was only years later that he discovered the reason why Mr White had been able to help him so much.
It was when he joined the army at the age of eighteen that he was openly discovered by another Savant and finally learnt once and for all who he truly was after having a rather frank talk in the recruiting sergeant’s office, though unfortunately by this point most of the damage to his personality had already been done.
Assigned to a military intelligence unit rather than the Rangers like he’d originally signed up for, Dante found himself hunting terrorists, drug cartels and other people of interest as part of a specialist team of Savants for the varying intelligence agencies within the US. Although the majority of the missions were simply if highly risky (and illegal) reconnaissance missions where he simply gathered the intel required for either the army or the government to act he was also involved in a number of Black op missions where only a handful people know their existence.
However after a disastrous mission in Singapore that saw several members of his team dead and Dante himself locked in a Chinese military prison on espionage charges, Dante left the unit within a week of being freed and moved back to his home state; hacking the military’s database and removing all of his details in the hope of escaping them entirely and living a quiet life.
Apparently he didn’t do a thorough enough job as within a few months of disappearing a Savant with FBI connections was contacting him once again.

The man slouched in a dark corner of the bar with a glass of whiskey in his hand and a lit cigarette tucked into the corner of his mouth “Beat it Radar love, I don’t work for you no more” he muttered seemingly to himself, his voice barely audible above the jukebox in the corner, not that there was anybody around to hear him “…whoop de doo like I give a crap, he’s your friend you find out who did for him...now wait just one minute! Who the hell told you about Singapore?” the man spoke angrily bringing his half empty glass down heavily upon the table, earning him an irate look from the barman “…yeah, well you can ram your offer up your…whoa easy there! There’s no need to get all nasty about this, Jesus, fine I’ll be there…goddamn spooks” he grumbled, scribbling an address on the back of a beer mat before tossing a couple of crumpled dollar bills onto the table and leaving. Apparently he had a plane to catch.

“Sir! This is a government building you can’t smoke in here!” the receptionist shouted down the corridor after him as he carried on regardless, only stopping when he finally found the door he was looking for “look sister its bad enough you took my piece at the door, you are not taking my smokes, now beat it!” Dante shouted over his shoulder before stepping into the meeting room.
Taking one look at the green clad young man before him Dante stops dead in his tracks with a confused look on his face “What in the hell are you supposed to be?” he drawled in his thick southern accent as he directed a disparaging look at the boy in green, or at least what he assumed to be a boy as it was kind of hard to tell with all that fancy hair and clothing.
Dressed in his usual attire of combat boots, jeans and brown leather jacket Dante had assumed he’d be the odd one out again; the redneck in a room full of suits though apparently that wasn’t the case. At least the other guy looked the part, a right proper little G-man though too young to be the guy in charge “So which one of you knows what in the hell is going on?...oh and keep it simple I’ve had a long flight and I am feeling a little tetchy, ok?”

Lord Regal

Well-Known Member
Giles smiled good-naturedly as Harper explained he didn't really care for tailored clothes, and that he preferred to spend his money on other luxuries instead. "It's of course everyone's preference, and I will say I don't buy clothes all that often." This was completely true…if the former aristocrat could consider himself wearing something, it was pristine, exactly how he wanted it. Rips, tears, holes, even the gradual fading of colors that happened through washing or exposure to the sun just straight up didn't happen to him. Any damage would be repaired almost immediately. Come to think of it, he hadn't bought more than one or two new outfits since he was disowned…as Harper had indirectly implied, getting fully tailor-made clothes was rather expensive. He wouldn't have been able to accrue a good-sized wardrobe at all if he hadn't had his family's money to use for a while…he was just glad he'd stopped growing before he'd gotten kicked out.

Harper proceeded to give a rather serious explanation of what was about to happen, stating that he shouldn't trust anyone who had yet to walk in the room, though Giles did note that he hadn't said a word about not trusting him, which he filed away for later use. He was just nodding his head in thanks when a newcomer arrived, a grizzled man in more casual clothes, who immediately questioned who he was, his accent placing him as being from the south. Without any malice or condescension in his tone, Giles replied, "I in the hell am one of your coworkers on this case, or at least I am if you're not the one holding the answers. Giles Alexander, at your service." He inclined his head, using the motion as an excuse to sit up a little straighter, though he was still lounging. The man was a little more abrasive than Harper was, and so it couldn't hurt to be a little more professional about things. It was clear the man was indeed one of them, as he then asked who knew what was going on. "We're in the dark as much as you, or at least that's what I'm led to believe…pull up a chair, odds are we won't have to wait much longer, we're getting close to the actual meeting time." Giles was very glad for his powers…smoke of any kind had a tendency to linger in clothing. Not being a fan of the smell of cigarettes himself (how had he brought them past the door?) he wouldn't want to be smelling them the rest of the day.


Something about Giles' clothing was off if he didn't have to buy very often. That likely narrowed his powers down to something non-combat, maybe a psychometric or something, someone more useful for investigating than fighting. That meant if they took any heat from this, Harper was the most useful member of their group for fighting. At least, he would have been if not for the grizzled military man who walked in the door yelling at the receptionist, smoking, insulting her companion, who thankfully took it in good humor, and adding a little red cherry on top with explaining that he'd had a long flight and was a little "tetchy." Obviously whoever was in charge had decided that they really were going to be at risk and sent a military grunt from the edge of civilization to protect them. Whoopdeedoo, now if they just had a little clown car to drive around in, they'd be a circus. Fat chance already of this lot going anywhere unnoticed.

Harper didn't let any of these thoughts show however, and smiled genially as Giles introduced himself and brought the new guy up to speed. There was obvious distrust here with the newcomer, something he could probably use if worst came to worst. Standing up quickly, making sure to add a little bounce to his body language, Harper walked up to the newcomer and held out his slightly trembling hand to shake. "Harper Song," he said. "Nice to meet you. I figured they'd send someone with combat experience, just in case things get dicey, not that I really think we'll have any trouble. Not unless the g-men left out some pretty important info." He accompanied that last statement by shifting his smile from jovial to crooked, the humor vanishing from his face. With this new guy, trying to get a bit of camaraderie wouldn't hurt, plus the mention that he didn't entirely trust the folks in charge probably wouldn't go unnoticed. With some soldier types, being too polite could backfire if they thought you were toadying or being disrespectful, so he kept it short, not knowing where the situation might go.
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Dante listened politely enough as the two men introduced themselves; drawing on his cigarette and blowing a plume of smoke up at the ceiling and away from his colleague as a matter of courtesy "put it away boy I don't know where you've been" Dante growled as Harper introduced himself, the complete lack of movement on his part making it clear he wouldn't be shaking hands "...the names Dante, a pleasure to meet you gents...I think" he said in way of an introduction. Holding out his right arm one of the chairs suddenly shot across the room where upon he stopped it at his feet, with the kinetic then sitting in it backwards way on so that his arms rested across its back.
He had to laugh when Harper made the rather understandable if erroneous assumption that he hired muscle in case things went wrong "Boy, I ain't no merc, I am a spook, though you're right about the G-men....nah, if I’ve got to shoot a guy things have gone horribly wrong, not that I can't handle myself as I'll assume you can as well" he explained good naturedly before turning to look Giles up and down "...the jury is still out on you though powder puff" the boy looks like he belongs in a Manga comic...whatever happened to kids being happy with blues jeans and T-shirt? "So what is it that you boys bring to the table...not powers I mean skills, unless one you is a pyro, hoo whee those guys are always great fun to be around, knew this one fella that went by the name of Boss, I loved that guy, he was a blast and a great drinking buddy to boot... poor guy went completely loco whilst on a job...the Ukrainian military put him down like a dog" the Southerner said with a disappointed sigh; staring at the glowing tip of his cigarette in a nostalgic manner before grinding it out on the back of his chair "So tell me, other than co-ordinated outfits what is it you guys bring to the table?"

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Savant Name: Essex Forrestal
Human Name: Markus Titor
Gender: Male
Age: 28
Appearance: Markus stands 5’ 11” with black, curly hair and brown eyes. He wears dress shirts with ties, blazer, slacks, leather gloves, and dress boots. When the occasion calls for it, he’ll wear a jacket and sometimes a sweater.

-Investigation: 3
-Ranged: 1
-Melee: 1
-Athletics: 1
-Endurance: 2
-Oration: 2

-Paranoia: 1
-Nut Allergy: 2
-Lactose intolerant: 1

Power: Psychometry

Equipment: fountain pen, Moleskine®, Glock 29, Fairbairn-Sykes, Pocket Ref Guide, Lucky Strikes

Bio: Markus knew he was always destined for great things, ever since he discovered what his powers were. He knew he would get something, but he didn’t know what. It took an arrowhead at a Native American lecture at his middle school to discover that he was a psychometric. Despite this ability, he hadn’t managed to perform well enough in high school to receive any career establishing scholarships, requiring him to perform small odd jobs until he could earn enough money to cover a university degree. Some of these required certain skills with firearms, as such he picked up some marksmanship, as well as a slightly unhealthy dose of paranoia. After a few years of these jobs, he had managed to scrape up enough for a university education and a 1985 Celica Supra P type. It was during his university time that Markus was asked by the FBI to help out with a case. Despite being chosen for his particular skill, Markus got much more involved than originally intended. Due to the injuries received, including a large scar in the abdomen and a small mark on the left hand, Markus had some strings pulled for him, which allowed him an internship at a university as he worked towards a master’s in history.

“Look, I’m sorry Dr. Preston. This was a sudden call. Yes I know I have a term paper due tomorrow. It’s almost done. I’ll email you a copy when I get the chance. I promise you. Goodbye.” Markus placed the phone back in its cradle and continued on down the highway. He was on his way to a very important meeting, one that he hoped wouldn’t be as exciting as the last trip he had been induced to take by the man on the other end of the wire. Despite the offer to arrange for a plane trip to the city, Markus preferred the drive; besides, he couldn’t bear to leave his car at home while he had a grand adventure waiting for him. “Bear check,” he called over the CB. “What’s this? Some Burt Reynolds wannabe? You’re clear for a couple hundred miles.” Markus sped on down the highway towards the city of New York. An uneventful trip later, Markus had arrived at the destination, a beautifully constructed building housing all sorts of businesses and apartments. Normally he wouldn’t let an attendant or a valet place his car anywhere, but in this instance it was a necessity. He was running late as it was, and finding a spot to park in New York City was nearly impossible. He was greeted by the receptionist, who after explaining the policies of the NYSAFE act, promised discretion with whatever weapons he may or may not be carrying. “I’m Markus. Pleased to meet you.” He removed his left glove and shook the receptionist’s hand. “I take it we’re the only ones to know about this man who is not your husband, my dear. I’m afraid I need my protection. I hope you’ll employ discretion, as I assure you I will. Have a good day.” Markus headed towards the indicated conference room, leaving the blushing and stammering receptionist holding the tray, which already contained a revolver. When he entered the room, he was greeted by a strange sight; a young man in a business suit like Markus’s, an even younger man whose clothing was centered around an eye bleeding shade of green, and an old, grizzled veteran who looked like he came straight off the set of an antiwar film. “Well, good day everyone. I’m Markus, pleased to meet you all. Hope we’ll all get along on our little adventure.”

Lord Regal

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The newcomer introduced himself as Dante, which could have been either of his names. He refused to shake Harper's hand, which Giles thought was a bit unkind, but otherwise seemed amiable enough, explaining that he wasn't hired muscle, but could handle himself. The former aristocrat simply nodded, conceding the point, when he explained he wasn't sure if he could handle himself just yet…that was fair, these other two had actual experience in the field, of course there should be concern if he could keep up.

The next occurrence very obviously portrayed Dante's power as a telekinetic, and Giles' eyes snapped to Harper, looking for a sign that the man had just done something uncouth. When he didn't find what he was looking for, he turned back to the now sitting man as he asked what they brought to the table, specifically mentioning he wasn't talking about their powers. So it's ok to show off your power if you want, but not to ask...he felt bad again about asking Harper what his power was, but at least he was learning. "Power aside, I'm a people person. I enjoy talking to them, people tend to respond to that enjoyment, and I just in general get along with them. I figure they brought me this far east because they're wanting someone to do legwork talking to people, trying to get information." That or they're looking for me to be the muscle, since Harper doesn't seem like the violent type and Dante specifically said he wasn't a front man, he added to himself, somewhat concerned. He was fairly confident he could handle a fight should one break out, but the thought that his power was purely offensive while Dante's was more utility-centric…it was a little disconcerting.

At this point, a fourth man walked into the room, and Giles sighed inwardly…at this rate he WOULD be the muscle…and would it have killed the person who was bringing the group together to have put a cute girl or two on the team? The newcomer looked to be a fairly fit person, though his attire didn't fit a tough guy mentality. He seemed amiable enough, introducing himself as Markus. Nodding as he had with Dante, Giles gave him his name, adding, "We were just discussing what we bring to the team, not including our powers of course. I had mentioned I'm a people person, able to get along with just about anyone, and I'd likely be doing legwork that way. Feel free to chime in, it's good to know the team you're working with!" He finished with a grin before leaning back slightly, pondering about how this group was going to operate as a unit…they were certainly different enough…


savant Name: Megas Komnenos

Human Name: Percival Durant

Gender: male

Age: 25

Appearance: Percival stands at an average 5'10 has black hair, blue eyes, pale skin and has a preference for formal attire,designer glasses and walking canes.


-1 won't use guns

-1 won't kill people

level 2 melee (nonlethal weapons)

level 3 investigation

level 2 athletics

level 1 black market connections

power: mental manipulation

equipment: stun baton disguised as a walking stick, radio jammer

bio: Born to a wealthy family Percival has great interest in old artifacts and challenges. Using his families wealth and his skills Percival became a gentleman thief of sorts stealing rare statues, pictures and books from the vaults of many great banks and anonymously donating them to museums after making copies for himself. Eventually Percival ran afoul of the FBI after being caught in their offices which he had broken into on a dare. Rather amazed at his ability to bypass their security he found himself employment that matched his tastes rather than a snug cell.


Sharp clanging of metal, the sound of soft soles on the padded floor, and the occasional sound of "Point!" Filled Percival's world. Everything else ignored only the footwork and thrust to bring his rapier true. Such a moment of focused concentration shattered by the troubles of an outside world. "I beg your forgiveness Prince Feisal but it appears the American's are in need of my assistance." Helm at his side, resting atop his rapier Percival bows to the prince to whom he had recently found a common interest in fencing. "Though I fear during my time away you might surpass me, I must nevertheless follow my summons. After all you know as well as I how ornery the Americans get when ignored." He adds with a conspiratorial grin.

And such that it always would be Percival found himself back on a case pushed forth both by appeasement and the sheer excitement of the challenge. Before him stood an unusual bunch a young unassuming man in a neat suit, a man so vibrant as to be blinding, another brought straight from the battlefield and what looked like a man held perpetually in the grip of scholars. Having finished his survey of the room Percival enters the room cane in one hand and suitcase in the other and takes a seat, absentmindedly humming a half remembered tune as he pulls out various notebooks full of what he had gathered on Richard Brooks and supplimentary materials on the various theories for the origins of Savant powers.


It wasn't every day that someone would turn Harper down for a handshake. Let alone question where he'd been as if he were some... fille de joie. Oh yes, this one wasn't going to trust anybody. That would be an issue eventually, when they'd actually have to work as a team, but for now... it was just sad. Not to mention the nonchalant bluntness in which the man showed off his power. Harper let the smile fall off his face in favor of a cool, neutral expression, giving Dante a cold look before moving to sit back down. Or at least, he would have if a young, scholarly type didn't waltz in and introduce himself as if he were completely oblivious to the atmosphere. At this point, Harper gave up on shaking hands and just sat down with a sigh as Giles continued to be the center of attention, talking all about what he could do and how he could be useful. Freaking greenie.

And the straw that broke the camel's back was the young, formal looking man with a walking stick who strode in without a word and started pulling out notes. Seriously. This group managed to run the gamut from gaudy to abrasive to so bland they barely registered on his consciousness. And every single one of them. Was a guy. The last time he'd been in the presence of this much testosterone, someone had almost died trying to jump his motorcycle over a canal. Whipping up a smiling facade, Harper excused himself for the bathroom, walking out the door and passing a rather traumatized looking receptionist without a look back. Once safely in the privacy of the rather nice stalls, he took stock of his clothing. The button up shirt and slacks... Alice was about the same height as Richard, but too much bust... Mary... Mary was flat enough to work, plus had a similar height. Harper's shape flowed smoothly into that of a short-haired blonde whose general dimensions weren't that far from the shape she'd just held. Maybe a little slimmer and better muscled, but fairly similar. The shoes didn't fit as well, but not too shabby, all in all. And something fairly important... reaching into a pocket, she grabbed a pair of large stickers, placed them strategically... and done. It wasn't like that was going to be an issue with her current size, but no point in taking chances, especially with professional meetings like this one. The whole affair had taken maybe thirty seconds.

Change done, Harper left the bathroom and walked back into the meeting room, passing the receptionist again, who still looked too confused to do anything to waylay the new woman heading into the meeting room. With a practiced nonchalance, she ignored any responses to her entrance until she reached her former spot at the table, collapsing back into the same chair. Her hands had settled a little to a slight tremble and they wouldn't be completely inundated by men in this team. Totally worth running the risk that their employer would come in while she was gone.
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Lord Regal

Well-Known Member
Much to Giles' consternation, no one else seemed to be as forthcoming of their talents, even after Dante had suggested it. He figured that the rapid appearance of people had something to do with it…yes, they likely just didn't want to repeat themselves multiple times, that was it. Now understanding the situation, he lapsed into a comfortable silence, only for another person to show up. This one paid them absolutely no attention, and instead just sat down and pulled out a couple notebooks, all the more effective to ignore them completely. Harper then excused himself to go to the bathroom, which was a bit surprising, honestly…he'd seemed like more of a professional than that, to wait to go until the last minute. However, there was nothing for it, and that was that. While the man was away, the former aristocrat listened in on anything being said while examining the newcomer. If he was ignoring them that completely, there was a reason, and he wanted to memorize the man's face so that he wouldn't forget him.

This intense scrutiny kept up until a rather pretty young woman walked into the room. Giles couldn't keep a smile off his face as he watched her enter…FINALLY some gender variety. He was about to greet her when she sat down where Harper had been sitting. "Hello there, miss, great to meet you! Someone's sitting there, but the spot next to…" he trailed off, frowning as he picked up on her trembling hands. They were familiar…and come to think of it, the suit she was wearing was too. Looking up at her face in shock, he uttered softly, so that the others couldn't hear, "Harper??" She was a shapeshifter? She didn't want to speak about her power, she'd made that clear, but...wow…this was a development. Feeling just slightly embarrassed, he returned to his casual position, resisting the urge to summon one of his swords and flip it idly, something he did when he needed to pass some time. Dante had showcased his power flagrantly, but Harper had been much more subtle…clearly that was the professional thing to do, so he would abstain as well.


Savant Name - Renekan Eldar

Human Name - Ernest Rutherford

Gender - Male

Age - 25

Appearance - Fairly tall at 6'2, medium built. Usually has on a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up the elbows, black trousers and tie. Has the Eldar family crest tattoed on his lower right arm, a black serpent making twists around the arm and stopping at the wrist. The most striking of his features however, is the bright silver hair on his head that distinguishes the Eldar family from other Savants in the community.

Skills - Observation (2), Intelligence (1), Decryption (1), Melee (1), Sneaking (1), Speed (1), Judgement of character (0), Ranged (0).

Flaws - Unsociable (-1)

Power - Physic Shield.

Equipment - Set of utility knives, a box of cigarettes, a matchbox, a notebook.

Bio - Renekan was born to the Eldar family that lived in an old family mansion in the woods covering the outskirts of the country. The Eldar family had a long history of staying detached from the Savant community and living their own lives. They were usually referred to as being 'cold', 'heartless' and 'distant' by other Savants. At the Eldar mansion Renekan was raised along with his sister and trained in the Psychic arts. Gruelling mind training sessions with his father, Hugo Eldar made him grow up to be a master in mind control. Later on though relations with his family grew cold and he went on to live by himself in the city under the moniker of Ernest Rutherford and soon got recruited by Interpol. He went on two teamed missions that were successful but he was marked for his unsocial and cold behaviour that affected his colleagues on the field. Because of the negative feedback, he was made to sit out missions for the next two years.

Ernest could feel something tugging at the edges of his mind in his sleep. He had been extra cautious and had his shields on. He carefully extended his conciousness towards it and felt no hostile contact. Upon lowering his shields he carefully listened to message. It was a recruitment message and from the sound of it, it was more classified than his missions with the Interpol. The message didn't sound like something he could ignore and he wondered why he would get called up suddenly after 2 years on a high profile case. His new employer wanted him to be at New York in the morning to attend a meeting. Ernest got up and packed his things into a briefcase. He put on one of his several white shirts and the regular black tie to go with it. While changing into his clothes the tattoo on his right arm caught his eye and suddenly he remembered his father's last words 5 years back, "You have brought shame to the family. Don't show your face here again. You are not fit to share the Eldar name."

As he was walking down the busy airport, Ernest shifted himself uneasily. He was not accustomed to wearing a coat too often. He couldn't wait to take off the heavy thing and roll up his shirtsleeves like he usually did. But he also wanted to look presentable on his first impression at the meeting. After all this mission could help mend his already dented career. He definitely wasn't the kind of guy who could sit out his life like the boring humans. He needed something to occupy himself with, put his skills to use again. It has been a while indeed, he thought to himself. He got on the pavement and hailed a cab. The bright sunlight made his silver hair glisten, which was combed back neatly today. He gave the cabbie the instructions to the meeting place.

It was a room like any other, where you would expect a bunch of businessmen meeting up to discuss statistics, ideas and stuff. As he walked in, he saw a bunch of people in varying colors of attire ranging from eccentric to formal. There was a guy clad in green that caught his fancy more than the others. Seemed like he was the whimsical sort, the type he would want to avoid. He frowned and stared at the guy for a bit before his eyes moved to the other people in the room. There was a blonde lady, a scruffy looking militaryman (maybe?), a guy dressed in formal attire taking notes and a guy with curly hair. Not feeling the need to introduce himself, he walked up and sat on a chair in the far corner of the room, a bit away from the others. "We'll get to know each other soon enough", he thought as he waited for his employer to walk in.


So captain Emerald fancied himself a people person? Could be useful assuming of course he’s as good as he thinks he is Dante thought to himself; turning his head to watch as more of his colleagues entered the room.
The first one was a curly haired G-man who introduced himself to the group in a rather flowery manner which Dante recognised with slight nod of his head and a gruff “Dante” in way of an introduction before Captain Emerald began chattering to him. The second was another G-man that promptly moved over to a chair with his notes and ignored them, earning himself a glare and a black mark from the southerner.
The next two however were of the most interest to him as a pretty blonde entered the room to take Harper’s recently vacated chair, followed by a silver haired man with rolled up shirt sleeves displaying the Eldar family crest on his arm. Even though he didn’t know the man who had purposefully taken a seat away from everyone else, Dante still found himself grinding his teeth before shouting across at him “Oi! You with the Eldar tat! I have a message for you... Tell Dmitri Eldar that if I ever see him again I am going to throw him out of a goddamn window!” with his rather irate and unprovoked message delivered Dante settled back down; grumbling something incoherent about back stabbing under his breath before turning his attention to the blonde.
Running an eye that seemed to mentally strip, which considering his ability was actually a very real possibility, over the blondes body a small smile touches his lips “now don’t be so hasty Giles, this fine young lady is a far nicer sight than that gawky little twerp Harper...” he said with a leer before leaning towards the girl so he could speak to her in a more private manner “...but tell me darling, do you buy all of your shoes from the men’s section?”


The response of the first man she'd met today was interesting... and actually quite amusing. Giles tried to flirt with her for a moment before recognizing her, seemingly from the hands. Thankfully, he didn't blurt it out for the entire room, so he seemed to have some ability to be subtle, and the look on his face was simply priceless. Red was a color that suited him there, oddly enough, not many folks looked even remotely attractive when embarrassed. Like everything else, it went stupidly well with his ensemble, bringing out the red of the tie and white on the shirt while complimenting the green. So instead of flipping him off as she'd originally planned, she simply lifted her index finger to her lips in the universal gesture of quiet. She'd started liking the young greenie, would be a shame to offend him and lose an ally and potential friend.

She took stock of the room as yet another young man walked in, silver haired and businesslike, with a heavy coat on and looking really uncomfortable. He took a seat away from everyone else without introducing himself, which immediately made him appeal to her for at least some conversation, loners being absolutely wonderful allies. However, military grunt man decided that now would be a wonderful time to start making enemies, calling the young man out as a member of the Eldar family and insulting one of the other members. Peering closely, Harper did catch a glimpse of what might have been a tattoo under his right coat sleeve, but was interrupted by Dante immediately turning around and making his move on her. After taking what seemed to be a nice, long look at what she had to offer. The first person without a Y chromosome who wanted to distract this group would be wildly successful without even having to try. So she threw any willingness to get along with the military man currently asking her about SHOES after having dismissed Giles' correct assumption, to the roadside. "Is the question honest curiosity or checking whether I was familiar enough with feminine clothing to help you get your panties out of the knot they're in? Because while I appreciate you trying to check, I'm not going to be reaching into your pants to get them untangled." The statement was delivered in a normal tone of voice, louder than Dante's quiet question but not so loud that it would grab the attention of someone with their mind elsewhere. If the man was going to try to burn every half built bridge he came across, she'd leave him to the wolves. She'd been on enough teams that split apart thanks to a single argument that she wasn't going to side with the guy trying to start one with just about every member.
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Ernest was fumbling with the coat since he had walked out of the cab. It was rather uncomfortable and heavy and he just couldn't take it anymore. So when he walked in and took a seat he took it off. What he forgot was that he had exposed his Eldar crest, which he would have liked to keep under wraps for a while atleast. Naturally, some guy had noticed it right away.

“Oi! You with the Eldar tat! I have a message for you... Tell Dmitri Eldar that if I ever see him again I am going to throw him out of a goddamn window!”, came the shout from across the room. He looked up and saw it was the rugged looking militaryman grinding his teeth in a repulsive manner at him. He shot an amused look at the man and decided not to reply. Afterall he knew what Dmitri was. Last time he was spotted running a drug cartel in Cuba. He went undercover the moment the police got a lead on him. Dmitri was always the black spot as far the Eldar family was concerned, running away from home when he was 8 and being associated with a plethora of criminal activities since then. No wonder he hates the guy, he thought. Must have had the abominable luck of running into him one fine morning.
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Lord Regal

Well-Known Member
Giles felt himself recover a bit as Harper put a finger to her lips, her body language showing that she wasn't mad at him for his actions. However, at this point Dante, having finished yelling at one of the newcomers for a reason that didn't directly have to do with him, whatever significance THAT had, came over and started heckling her. Unlike his own flirting, which had been completely innocuous, the older man was quite clearly bothering her, which was NOT ok in his mind. He was about to put his foot down when Harper turned the tables rather smoothly on Dante, which put a smile on Giles' face. "In all seriousness, it's really not good for morale to antagonize this early, wouldn't you think? We're going to be on the same team for a bit, we might as well try to get along, or at least not openly be crude to one another." His tone was neutral, polite…he didn't try to leap to Harper's aid, figuring she'd handled it well enough and she wouldn't appreciate his well-meaning assistance more than likely due to that. Instead, he was trying to defuse the situation and return everyone to at least a tolerable level of friendliness. As he relaxed, he smiled and winked briefly at Harper with his left eye, his head tilted so his hair spike rendered the action invisible to Dante, attempting to convey that he appreciated the way she'd handled the other man. A real shapeshifter…no wonder she bought her clothes off the shelf, it'd be a nightmare trying to keep her forms in tailored outfits. Still, he couldn't help but wonder what he could do with a different body…it was an intriguing thought, anyway.
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