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@Avenger Assembled, @Dr Archeville, @Spacefurry ooc for this. You can choose for your character to be among the crowd, or being one of the fighters. In the latter case, if you want, you can write the Mistress of Mayhem introducing the character to the arena in some playful and bombastic way. Showing off in front of the crowd, is of course very much welcome.

“Ladies and Gentleman! The Tiger's Den Welcomes you to this Evening Entertainment.” The voice boomed through the abandoned warehouse, shutting down the hushed conversation and the drunken laughers that, up to then, had filled the room and alerting the patrons that it was time to flood around the makeshift arena. They were a colorful bunch, most of them thugs, gangsters and other shady figures from Southside, cheerfully spending the night out and enjoying the fights to come. However, any observer could easily spot that common criminals were not the only kind of attendees, as among the crowd one could see individuals whose attire would have been more appropriate in a soiree among the mansions of Bayview rather than a violent night in a rusty warehouse. All of them wearing elaborate animal masks concealing their features and appeared no less hungry for the entertainment provided than the rest of the crowd. “Tonight. I will be your Mistress of Mayhem. Queen of the Arena. Voice of god.” It was a tall blond woman talking, clad in the sumptuous attire of a circus ringleader, a golden cat-mask concealing her eyes, but leaving her smile uncovered. A grin that any watcher that focused on it for more than a moment could be left with the uneasy feeling that it sported too many teeth. She was standing on a makeshift stage, overlooking a pit where the fighting was going to take place, the scene was illuminated only by roaring bonfires with the orange glow giving the ambience of the place an almost infernal vibe. The patrons crowded around the pit and began to shout, ready for blood, all under the watchful eyes of the Tiger Den’s goons, tall, sharply dressed, figures with powerfully built, their expressions concealed by gorilla masks and their hands covered in white gloves. “Fresh Blood Awaits! Proud. Young. Ready for Battle.” The woman continued, raising her hands as if to welcome the fighters into the arena. “Or so they think.” She smirked, malevolently as her eyes surveyed the crowd. “The Tiger will welcome the victors among us. Brave Brothers! Baptized in Battle!” She proclaimed “And as for the losers… well...” She visibly shrugged as a cruel laughter echoed in the room. By the side of the makeshift arena, a portion of the crowd has already began to swarm closer to another one of the organizers, a thin, blond man whose clothing matched the Mistress of Mayhem, with the exception only of the mask, that instead of a cat depicted a red fox. “I am sure that my brother would be eager to take all of your bets, but now, please… It is time! For! Our! Warriors!” --- Finding out about the activities of the Tiger’s Den hadn’t been an impossible task, even for a group of young, or in the case of some among them, time displaced heroes. Sure, the underground fighting ring was new in Freedom City and operated outside the boundaries of the law, but their 'show' had quickly earned enough renown, or infamy perhaps, that information about it was not hard to come by, given enough legwork at least. Unfortunately, from what they had discovered, the kind of bouts like the one planned for that night, were just the tip of the iceberg. There were other, more secretive events whose location and timing were much better guarded. It was on that kind of occasions where the Tyger, leader of the organization, showed up, dark deals were discussed and shady plots formed, frequented by the crème de la crème of the criminal underworld. Now of course, one would need an invitation to participate and those were hard to come by, unless, one could join the Tiger's Den League. And some spots spots were at stake that very night...

October 2021 Southside Serbian Orthodox Church (formerly) The Southside Serbian Orthodox Church had been a center for the Serbian community in this part of Freedom City since the turn of the last century. But though the Southside was still the working-class neighborhood it had been in 1900, now it was a neighborhood full of immigrants from Latin America and the Caribbean, immigrants who had their own community centers and own churches. The SSOC (or St. Stephen's if you wanted to get technical) had stood vacant and abandoned for over a decade, a remnant of what had once been a thriving place. But now good times had come. The long-abandoned building had been sold to a local organization and was about to be refit into a community center and skatepark. In a few months, skilled artisans would come in and carefully remove the art that long-dead craftspeople had laid down on the walls and ceilings to a Serbian-American museum across town. But in the meantime, ten years of neglect means plenty of time for a lot of cruft to accumulate, cruft that a group of young metahumans were just right to handle discreetly. So it was that early one Saturday morning, the teenagers had been dropped off outside St. Stephen's with empty dumpsters, gloves and cleaning equipment, and all anyone could need to clean the place. They had permission to use their powers, even wear their costumes, albeit discreetly. "This is such a shame," said Owain, his usually-jovial face solemn as he stood outside the church's side entrance. "A house of God left abandoned for so long, and to lose what it was even if they save the bones of the place. I wot not wither to go with such a task," he admitted. "At least you don't have to smell it," commented Neko in Japanese, wrinkling her nose as she looked at the long-abandoned church. She had actually fallen asleep leaning against Owain on the ride over, which meant her ears and tail had been visible the whole time as they were dropped off and given their instructions.

Fall 2021 It was a nice fall day, cool and crisp, the sort of day where you can still go outside but you should wear sweaters to do it. Leon and Luke had taken their lunch period outside under the fiercely blue sky of a cool autumn day when suddenly a large black raven descended from the sky and landed between them. "Fellows!" it declared in what was clearly Owain's voice, booming out as clearly as if he was with them in human flesh. "Have you see my friend Neko?" (There had been no sign of Claremont's cat girl that morning, not that the boys had spotted anyway.)

Ouroboros had been more than slightly surprised when the letter of interest from his alma mater arrived inviting, or rather requesting he attend the Mentorship program, a way to give back to the the school. Farcical on it's face he was hardly a year out of the school himself, on the other hand one did not in general choose to say no to the headmistress. The short dossier he received on his matched student was somewhat more intriguing and managed to capture some genuine interest from the jaded beyond his years dhampir. The morning of the appointed day Owain would wake to a raven perched upon his windowsill with a tiny scroll clasped in its beak. It tilted it's head as it watched him stir awake and dropped the scroll as it let out a caw that to the ears of the knight enchanter rang out, Beneath the most storied tower Destiny awaits! Upon the parchment was writ his next clue, A lonely wanderer, wounded with iron, I am smitten with war-blades, sated with strife, Worn with the sword-edge; I have seen many battles, Much hazardous fighting, oft without hope Of comforts or help in the carnage of war Ere I perish and fall in the fighting of men. The leavings of hammers, the handiwork of smiths, Batter and bite me, hard-eged and sharp; The brunt of the battle I am doomed to endure. In all the folk-stead no leech could I find With wort or simple to heal my wounds; But day and night with the deadly blows The marks of the war-blades double and deepen. Let it never be said a Chun-Faretti lacked a flair for the dramatic.

Fall 2021 The Espadas School of Self Defence and Swordsmanship! Things were changing in the Espadas household this year between Min's twins, Raina's recent 21st birthday, and now the arrival of the two timelost teens from Burma. Owain and Neko had, in their first weekend, been consciously perfect guests - both ready to volunteer for any task around the house that was asked of them, neither of them in much mood to get into detail about their lives before they came here. (Neko had her own obstacles there, for that matter.) When they returned, they had a little more to say; or at least Owain did. "And so between the two of us, James, and Simon, it seems fele of the class is from some age other than this one!" He was gesturing with his knife as he spoke, thrusting vigorously and speaking loudly. "Who knew this would be the year of people wrested from another age to come to this one? Withal, to answer your question, sir, it goes well. Haven't seen any carrying any particularly fine weapons, but when I do, I'll see what fires their heart." For her part, Neko simply nodded, catching the buckwheat soba noodles around her chopsticks and popping them in her mouth. These were a fair approximation of the food she'd eaten back home, but not quite the same. Her ears and tail were seemingly out of view at the table, though the hair on her head was still a mixed patch of white and brown and was obviously cat hair rather than human. It was nearing the end of dinner; it was almost time for the younger children to head for bed. "It is okay," she agreed after Owain was finished speaking. "My roommate is very nice."

Kord Dormitories, First Floor Claremont Academy, Freedom City, New Jersey Saturday, September 4, 2021 Like the rest of the dormitories at Claremont Academy, the first floor of the Rita Kord Dormitory was a scene of somewhat controlled chaos. Classes were set to start early next week after Labor Day, so the dorms had opened up this weekend for new and returning students to get moved in.

Power Level: PL 8 (164/172PP) Trade-Offs: +4 Def/-4 Tough Unspent Power Points: 8 In Brief: Timelost Japanese supersoldier and her best friend, a timelost kid from Camelot Alternate Identity: Neko Musume (she prefers just 'Neko') Birthplace: Iya Valley, Japan Residence: The Espadas residence, for now Base of Operations: Claremont Academy during the school year Occupation: Student Affiliation: Claremont Academy, the Black Dragon Society (formerly) Family: all dead, I'm afraid Description: Age: 16/92 Apparent Age: 16 Gender: Female Ethnicity: Asian Height: 5’ 1" Weight: 110 lbs Eyes: Yellow Hair: White Neko is short and slight, with big eyes that are distinctly yellow and fluffy white hair speckled by brown, crowned by what are clearly two big boofy cat ears. She has slightly pointed front teeth and nails that grow in sharp. She has a tail that curls behind her, white speckled with brown spots. She has a lot of borrowed clothes but actually prefers to wear kiminos and bare feet, usually bright Art Deco colors. Neko has lived in the present long enough to adopt a superhero costume - finally. What she wears is a sleek, form-fitting bodysuit made of stretchy, breathable fabric in a dark navy blue color. The suit has long sleeves and pants, with a high collar and a full-zip front that can be easily opened and closed. Over the bodysuit, Neko wears a bright red and gold kimono-style robe with flowing sleeves and a wide obi sash tied around her waist. The robe is adorned with intricate gold and silver embroidery and bold, stylized Japanese characters that spell out "CAT" and "MAGIC" and "IYA VALLEY". The kimono and suit are both cut to give her tail freedom. To complete the costume, Neko wears a pair of tall, laced-up boots in a matching navy blue color, with thick soles to provide stability and support for her acrobatic movements. The boots have a slight heel, and are made of a durable, lightweight material that allows Neko to move quickly and easily. History: Neko was born in 1929 in the Iya Valley on the Japanese island of Shikoku. Even today the Iya Valley is remote, tucked away beneath sheer mountain slopes on either side, and in 1929 it was even more so. Neko's family had come to the region sixty years earlier in their grandfather's time, when their forebears realized that the new Meiji government would be hostile to their way of life. For Neko's family were the children of nekomata and bakeneko, cats imbued with fantastic supernatural powers, and carried that magic in their very veins! She learned some of that ancestral magic as a small girl, how to change her form and other fantastic abilities, and lived the relatively simple life of a peasant girl, carefully adopting human mannerisms and appearance when the government inspectors came by to study the local school. Though she heard about things like Japan's righteous war to liberate the oppressed people of China, their bold attack against the forces of the Americans in December of 1941, and their war against the wicked foreign foe, it didn't really mean anything to her. Until June of 1944, when American bombs began falling on Japan in large quantities thanks to Operation Matterhorn. Though civilian casualties were few compared to what would come later, she would learn much later that this had been a terrible insult to the Black Dragon Society, proof that their magics were not so great and powerful after all, but what it meant for her was that a small delegation of the Crimson Katana's elite troops arrived in her home village and announced that they were recruiting volunteers to defend Nippon against the hated enemies who had brought death to their shores. Neko looked around, saw older siblings and cousins debating what to do, and stepped forward with a cat's boldness. "I volunteer!" And so, at fifteen, she was taken away for training. She remembers the look in her parents's eyes still. "Bootcamp" was not easy but she was quick and clever enough to pass her trials, and the sheer gaping size of nearby Nagasaki was terrifying enough that she slept in her bed every night despite her fears of the Crimson Katana and his magic. She knew better than to risk his wrath, and she knew full well what they might do to her home village if she did flee. In late summer of 1944, having passed her trials, she was sent away to war, specifically to Burma, where the recent failure of Operation U-Go meant that Japanese forces were now on the defensive. It was supposed to be a minor, even inconsequential posting for the youngest piece on the Crimson Katana's shogi board, the latter being focused entirely on his American rivals. Until the Allies attacked in December of that year, and she found herself in the midst of her first battle. It was terrible. Any hopes she might have had that her fellow Japanese really were righteous defenders of justice faded when she saw what they did to those they captured, and any hopes she might have had that her enemies were really friends faded when she saw what they did to the Japanese. She might have fallen into grief and faked her own death, or something even more drastic, had she not met Kid Gawain, attached with his master to the British forces in Burma. Gawain was an enemy and so they fought, but they realized quickly how displaced they both were. Burma was as far from Camelot as it was from the Iya Valley, and Kid Gawain's dreams of knightly honor had faded before the reality of 20th century war. They began meeting occasionally, having the kinds of conversations that neither of them could have with any of the adults in their lives - and then came the mission in February 1945. A powerful American cryonic weapon had been stolen by a Japanese agent who had himself been killed in a bombing run. In a cave near Mandalay, the Crimson Katana (who had himself arrived to supervise the evacuation of Green Dragon assets from Burma), the Green Knight, Kid Gawain, and Neko no Akuma fought to the last. The Green Knight's ax and magical healing powers proved stronger than the Katana's blade, and the Katana (who never really believed in bushido, as convenient as it was) fled after triggering the cryonic device while ordering Neko no Akuma to cover his retreat. Thinking of her village, she stood between the knights and the way out; only to be pinned under a rock when bombs struck the roof of the cave mouth. She remembers Gawain and the Green Knight shouting at each other, namae o age rarenai uragiri, then Kid Gawain kneeling at her side in prayer, hensai dekinai shakkin, then a terrible feeling of cold - and then she remembers nothing for a long time. Until today. Personality & Motivation: Neko has had a lot of trauma. She misses her home and hopes desperately to see it again. Failing that, she wants to settle down somewhere and learn about all that was taken from her, and the true nature of what she is. In general she is quiet and reserved, particularly since her English is still not very good (and outmoded anyway, since she learned it from Owain), but more voluble when speaking to another Japanese speaker. She very much wishes to have friends, the way people do on American television, even if she doesn't want to act like those people. She cares about loyalty. Powers & Tactics: Neko's illusory abilities are vast, enough that she could easily dominate a WW2 battlefield in which she mostly fought mundane targets. She will mostly prefer to try and drive off foes, or fool them into doing something rash or self-destructive. If really and truly angry, she will pour down a terrible curse on their head, striking them with a powerful weapon pulled from her own sub-conscious. When using her powers, her eyes glow bright yellow and her ears and tail seem particularly obvious. She has has something of a cat's physicality, enough to escape from some though not all crises. Complications: Out of Time: Neko is from almost seventy years ago, and had an isolated, rural childhood in a rustic region before that. There's a lot she still doesn't know. Ghosts: Spirits and ghosts are drawn to the children of cats, often for ill. My Enemy: There is much left undone from that great and terrible war, and wounds left deep in her psyche. My Language: Neko's English is still not great; the GM is welcome to tell her she has lost the thread of a conversation or misunderstood something, especially if spoken loudly and at some volume. My Friend: Kid Gawain was subject of the ultimate betrayal for her, and so is subject to the debt that can never be repaid. She would literally do anything he asked of her. That is loyalty. Abilities: 0 + 8 + 8 + 0 + 4 + 8 = 28PP STR 10 (+0) DEX 18 (+4) CON 18 (+4) INT 10 (+0) WIS 14 (+2) CHA 18 (+4) Combat: 8 + 8 = 16PP Init: +8 ATK: +4 DEF: +12 (+8 Dodge Focus, +2 flat-footed) Grapple: +4 Saves: 3 + 2 + 4 = 9PP TOU +4 (+4 Con) FORT +6 (+4 Con, +2) REF +7 (+4 Dex, +3) WILL +6 (+2 Wis, +4) Skills: 56R=14PP Acrobatics 1 (+5) Bluff 8 (+12) Climb 6 (+6) Concentration 4 (+6) Knowledge (Arcane Lore) 5 (+5) Intimidate 8 (+12) Handle Animal 1 (+5) Languages 1 (English, Base: Japanese) Notice 6 (+8) Sense Motive 6 (+8) Sleight of Hand 1 (+5) Stealth 8 (+12) Survival 1 (+3) Feats: 43PP Challenge (Fast Taunt) Dodge Focus 8 Fascinate 2 (Bluff, Intimidate) Elusive Target Evasion Improved Initiative Luck Quick Change Ritualist Second Chance (Concentration checks) Sidekick 24 (Kid Gawain) Taunt Powers: 2 + 5 + 1 + 1 + 4 + 6 + 35 = 54PP all powers (except Cybernetics) have the 'magic' and 'cat' descriptor Comprehend 2 (animals, Flaw: Limited [felines]) [2PP] Cybernetics (5 pp Container) [5PP] Features 2 (Audiovisual Recording, Internet Connection) [3PP] Super-Senses 2 (Infravision, Radio) [2PP] Leaping 1 (x2) [1PP] Speed 1 (10MPH/100FPM) [1PP] Super-Movement 2 (Slow Fall, Sure-Footed) [4PP] Super-Senses 6 (Acute Scent, Detect Magic 3 [olfactory], Low-Light Vision, Uncanny Dodge [Mental]) [6PP] Yokai Array 16 (32PP, PFs: Alternate Powers 3) [35PP] BE: Illusion 8 (all senses; Flaw: Phantasm, PFs: Progression 8 [1000 ft radius]) {32/32} AP: ESP 4 (cats; Auditory + Olfactory + Visual Senses, 1 mile, DC 24 Notice; Extras: No Conduit; Simultaneous, Feats: Fast Task 4 [Full Action to search 1-mile-diameter area]) {32/32} AP: Damage 8 (illusory weapon, Extra: Alternate Save [Will], Range 2 [Perception]) {32/32} AP: Obscure 6 (summoned storm of illusions; all senses; 250 ft, Extras: Duration [Continuous], Selective, Flaw: Phantasm) {32/32} DC Table: Illusion (DC 18 Will save) Illusion broken Damage (DC 23 Will save) bruised/injured TOTALS abilities 28 + combat 16 + saves 9 + skills 14/56 + feats 43 + powers 54 = 164 / 172 pts