Lesh stood before the assembled group, his gaze swept over them, quietly assessing not just their physical state but the subtle tells in their eyes. Even after the earlier happy meal they all shared he noticed the flickers of fear and resignation also a desperate hope and tentative trust that they had developed towards him but even so, he needed to understand what they brought to the table, what abilities they may have had that allowed them to survival till this point.
"My name's Rachelle, but I prefer being called Ray. My class is Archer. I kinda just picked something at random," the red-haired woman announced, stepping forward with an almost defiant casualness that belied a faint tremor of unease in her voice. The others soon followed suit, some admitting to a similar arbitrary selection process. A few of the larger men though had predictably gravitated towards warrior classes, each with a distinct focus. There was one for axes, another for shields, a third for swords and then a rather oddly armored berserker. When Lesh pressed him on this unusual choice, the berserker just shrugged, a motion that seemed to cause him a jolt of pain. He admitted that while he could handle pain it didn't mean he like it. So, when he saw "armored," he hadn't bothered reading any further and just picked it. The irony wasn't lost on him when he'd later lost a leg, lamenting how being armored hadn't helped him much in the end.
Indeed, each of these front-line fighters bore a stark reminder of their battles. The berserker, a leg missing below the knee now relied on a crudely fashioned crutch. The axe warrior had lost an eye, a jagged scar pulling the corner of his remaining lid along with a few fingers on one hand. The sword user nursed a missing arm, his sleeve pinned roughly, a silent testament to a brutal cleaving. The shield user was perhaps the most unsettling, he seemed to be missing a substantial chunk from his side. A raw, angry red color showed where the wound had been forcefully healed but not properly, leaving him with a grotesque, unnatural curve in his body. Lesh felt a pang of grim sympathy for them; these were not men who had chosen their fates lightly, or rather, the world had chosen a brutal fate for them, regardless of their initial picks.
Nodding solemnly, Lesh directed the warriors to the side with an unreadable expression before turning his attention to the rest of the men present, excluding the lone old man who stood quietly at the back. Amongst them were a pair of mages, two brothers who, had, in contrast chosen opposing classes, one crackled with lightning, his eyes bright and restless, while the other seemed rooted to the ground, an aura of quiet strength defining his earth element. Both seemingly full of self-importance as the remaining individuals told him of their own self-titled 'useless' jobs, their shoulders slumping with a learned sense of inadequacy.
One was a gatherer, his ability allowing him to intuitively locate items around him but, as he explained with a frustrated sigh, he could only choose one item at a time and the specific details of the item was crucial. "If I try to find food," he elaborated well running a hand through his unkempt hair, "it could lead me straight to something rotten and inedible if it could still technically be called a type of 'food,'. He paused, a shiver running through him. "But if I specify 'preserved food,' it would work a bit better, leading me right to some preserved food but, well that's actually how I got captured, it led me straight to a raiding party having their meal. At first I thought I'd found salvation and a group I could use for protection but they laughed at my ability and I ended up as a captive to be traded on the markets." Lesh made a mental note: a potentially powerful scout, but one requiring precise instructions on what to seek and careful handling.
Another was a city builder, a man whose cracked glasses perched precariously on his nose, giving him an air of academic detachment. "I played a lot of those city-building games before things changed," he confessed, a wistful note in his voice. "I thought it would be similar. But all I can do plan things out, visualize beautiful metropolises, grand cities and a beautiful start… except I don't have the strength or stamina to make them a reality. And even the starts I lay out crumble without support. I can picture what a place should be like, right down to the last cobblestone, but I can't make them myself, I need to direct others to create it but in a world like this who would listen to those weaker than themselves? I mean it was useful at the start, I helped create the governments city and even the crazy cult girls one but had to run from them when they tried to kill me, then after all that I no longer had a purpose and got traded from one camp to another. Honestly it makes me feel like I completely messed up my choice since it only helped in the short term." Lesh could see the despair in his eyes, the weight of a grand vision trapped by pedestrian limitations and the pain of being used and tossed away once he was no longer of use to those who used him. It was a tragedy of potential, something he began to feel would end up being far too common in this new reality.
Next, a lanky individual claimed their class was 'Mineral Vein.' "I just closed my eyes and picked randomly, I thought it was all just a freaky dream at the time" he mumbled, avoiding eye contact. He explained how his class allowed him to create a mineral vein in exchange for energy, even giving him his own energy meter that only he could see. "First time I tried it, I passed out and all I got was a few tiny lumps of iron mixed with stones on the ground, since my class was useless without worth I began using blunt weapons and became a decent scavenger." He cleared his throat, a hint of pride entering his voice. "Not long after that though I found that using an iron sword worked surprisingly well and even had one for over five months before I got captured." Due to no one stepping forward to take the assistant role Lesh was forced to file away all he was learning himself. Well that wasn't entirely true, Alice had somehow gotten a pair of lens less wire frame glasses along with a notepad and pen claiming the assistant role would be hers and well she did take a few notes most of the page was filled with various doodles.
The final guy was rather strange and caused even him to feel rather uneasy. He claimed his class to be a candle maker and how each day he could create a candle or wax figure in whatever form he wanted, demonstrating his skill by creating a slim candle the size of his finger onto the middle of his palm complete with a wick. Even so Lesh was unsure about him, feeling there was far more to it than he was saying that put him on edge, the subtle glint in the man's eyes suggesting untold depths and madness and not the good kind that Alice had but rather a darker, putrid kind. He decided not to pry for the time being but would make sure this fellow was watched closely, going so far as to whisper to Alice to do the same, her eyes narrowing slightly as she looked him over and seemingly cribbling more intensely onto her pad.
As for the old man, he didn't seem to want to speak in front of the others. Casting them skeptical and worried glances as he approached Lesh quietly, using a walking stick supplied by Elena as a substitute or his missing leg before asking to speak in private. Confused but understanding Lesh told Alice that he would be right back and asked her to check the ladies' classes for him, He knew it may have been foolish but he knew he could trust her to get what he needed done. He also felt that they would be more comfortable discussing such personal matters with a fellow woman over a man after all they had been through, he was still more than a little aware of the looks they would send towards him. Alice nodded excitedly before bouncing over to where they had gathered, keen to get the answers he wanted from the female survivors.
Lesh led the old man to the former kitchen, pulling up two old chairs he and Alice used the previous day. "So, what's so mysterious that you felt you needed to tell me your class in private? Are you concerned about what the others would think should they hear it?" Lesh asked, his voice even and calm.
The old man settled onto the chair, a wry smile playing on his lips. "I suppose it can be seen as something like that. It will require a little bit of backstory though, you see I was dying when this world changed. Or rather, to be more specific I was about to die due to various forms of cancer that wracked my body."
Lesh raised an eyebrow, skepticism lacing his tone. "Wait, according to my understanding of how master John's reality worked it should have been able to be noticed, especially if you had more than a single form like your implying, so how would something like that go unnoticed? It's not something even the poorest doctor would or even could easily overlook." A small, dry laugh escaped the old man.
"My family," He began, his face turning into a snarl. "May they be burn in the deepest pits of the blackest hell, kept me locked up and treated by their own paid off doctors since the time i began to fall ill. I wouldn't be surprised if they somehow stimulated the cancers to make them worse for their own twisted reasons. So, there I was, hooked up to various machines on the day the doctors said I was due to die. And let me tell you, anyone who says they don't fear death is a bold-faced liar. Just because a person can accept death doesn't mean they don't fear it when it comes for them. I was the same. I saw the reaper approaching, felt his cold breath on my neck but then things changed. Admittedly, I'm still unsure what to make of my own choice, but it kept me alive and continuing to this point. Although i fear I might not be able to die at all now, at least not by normal means. My class is called Cell Excitement." He finished with another, slightly unsettling laugh.
"Ironic, isn't it? I was about to die so I chose something at random without a care and it gave me the ability to live by changing the very thing that was killing me into my own form of immortality." He leaned forward, his eyes glinting with amusement. "The cancer mutated and changed to somehow become an extreme healing and regeneration factor not to different from that red-suit comic book guy who always broke the fourth wall, you know the one I'm talking about. Except instead of scaring me it ate away at me from the inside out, turning me into the skin and bones you see before you, I prevent my leg from reforming to help keep people off guard. I am even able to make myself look entirely normal and healthy if I want, being able to go so far as to become so muscular that I can put a bodybuilder to shame, it's incredibly tiring though and tends to be a constant drain on my system when I keep it up. So, I prefer looking like this to appear disarming." He gestured to his emaciated frame. "Although I did learn I can slightly heal others' wounds by causing their cells to rapidly multiply and close their wounds but it tends to be extremely limited depending on the nature of the injury. Hmm oh yes, I also learnt ways to continue in the event my muscular form fails to work, I learned another way to use my ability, one far more dangerous and harmful, possibly even deadly if I were to be entirely honest."
With a sudden and unsettling smile, the old man slowly rose from his seat. Hobbling a little bit away towards a small, over grown potted plant that sat innocently at the side. He watched with a growing unease coiling in his gut as the old man placed a gnarled, boney hand on the plant. Almost instantly, the plant seemed to bulge and bubble, its form growing and swelling at random as it formed grotesque, pulsating lumps across its from that even spread to its leaves before writhing as if in pain well absorbing the pot into itself as it continued to expand rapidly into a large, quivering mass on the floor, its green turning to an unhealthy, sickly yellow.
"Rapid multiplication of cells on a base level," the old man explained, stepping back, "like how cancer cells are able to rapidly multiply I can cause cells in other creatures and beings to do the same." His smile, that of a gentle grandfather was chillingly offset by the horrific organic mass he had just created caught Lesh completely by surprise, a cold dread seeping into his bones. This man was not just a survivor; he was a potential weapon of terrifying power and this was no doubt how he had managed to survive up till now.