- Antônio / El Topo regresses due to the stress of the missions they go through, and when he does, he stays mostly outside, on the garden, playing with dirt. his favorite activity to do when regressed is making mud cakes
- Mitch avoids taking missions when regressed, mostly because he knows he won't be able to lead his team as well as when he's not regressed, and because he feels like if anyone in his job knew that he regresses, he'd quickly lose his title as leader (he won't, in fact, Zahra already knew and sometimes notices before even Mitch himself does)
- It's pretty obvious when Jinx regresses, she gets more chatty and likes playing with her inventions more. She doesn't really like being called Jinx while regressing and it shows, every time someone calls her by Jinx and not Powder, she flinches at least a little. She's also not so sassy with Sevika either.
- Hazard loves being loud when it regresses, and when I say love, I mean it. He's mostly a pet regressor and it's easy to tell when he regresses because it barks more and also plays with it's dog more too, he's also more proud of his fangs when he's regressed. Susie always takes care of it when regressed and the other Phreaks don't care at all, they know Hazard's reasons. - also goes by name/it pronouns when regressed
- Nimona just shifts into her child form when regressed, she can't hide it at ALL XD
【 All Ocs belong to their respective owners and will be credited at the end. 】
Synopsis: “No one has to know.”
Warning(s): attempted SA that gets interrupted, potentially ooc, character death, ambiguous relationship (?)
[ Apologies for any out of character moments ]
⊱────────────────────⊰
⊱────────────────────⊰
“Are your eyes set on the target?”
A scoff, on the other end of the intercom. Mitch was ready to speak again, before Camilla finally replied after a momentary silence.
“What do you take me for?” she questioned, walking through the crowd of guests; seamlessly sneaking her way into the building.
“Overestimation,” Mitch shot back. Sitting atop a building not too far from the one Camilla was in, he used the scope of his sniper rifle to keep his sights on her. “You can be too confident.”
“I'm not!” Camilla snapped, speaking her truth a little too loudly. After a few questioning looks from the other guests, she cleared her throat.
Point proven, Mitch thought silently, choosing not to voice his thoughts; who knows how Camilla would react if he did.
“Just-” She began making adjustments to her earpiece, masked to look like a single golden ear cuff.
“Tell me about the target.”
Mitch raised an eyebrow, even when he was well aware that she wouldn't have been able to see it. “You didn’t listen to the debrief?”
“You think I listen to Victoria?” Camilla chortled, her hand lining the walls to place hidden cameras in between the painted over imperfections.
“Calling the Chairman by her first name.” He wasn't even the least bit surprised. What was there to be surprised about?
Camilla rolled her eyes, not replying to him— she'd rather not look like a crazy person for appearing to conversing with herself, thank you very much.
Annoyed as he could possibly be… Mitch still exposited as much as he could remember from the details given by the Chairman— wealth, power, connections.
“Thomas Cresswell. Known gamesman, presumed black sheep of an old money family with roots to the aristocracy; and a real… charmer.”
Mitch remembered what he could; the details that were given, the description of the man's appearance, and the way the Chairman crossed her office. Heels clicking against the smooth floor's surface, circling a table carrying a chess set of black obsidian and white agate encrusted pieces.
But on the topic of description of appearance…
“Dark brown hair. Cherry wood brown, green eyes,” Mitch kept his description short. Concise. Sharp. “Tall and slightly lean, but a bit broader on the shoulders.”
Gliding around the room in the most impractical stilettos possible, Camilla placed listening devices and hidden cameras in different — not so noticeable — areas of the room.
Under the table, in the hidden cracks of the light yellow walls pretending to be platinum gold; and that wasn't even getting into all the times she's snuck some into the articles of clothing of guests she'd bump into.
Several garbled, frantic and scripted apologies later, Camilla had placed listening devices in a number of guest's clothing.
Credit where credit was due… Mitch could at least see that she wasn't incompetent.
While not incompetent, inconspicuous was something Camilla was not.
No matter the persistent efforts of the disguise department, she wanted the attention and the spectacle that came with her lack of conspicuousness; her choice of clothing reflecting that insistence.
Deep, emerald green of presumably designer silks; heart shaped neckline with a bodice akin to a halter; a shawl of white fur, and slits at either side of her legs, reaching all the way up to the midsection of her thighs.
Camilla lived for spectacle, and she was everything an intelligence gatherer shouldn't be— Attention grabbing.
Mitch scowled, his sights set on keeping its focus on Camilla. He didn't hate her… but it was hard to say if he liked her or not, either.
Simultaneously good, he thought to himself, and bad at her job.
“If you're done taking the scenic route… it'd be best if you start looking for our target.”
She took in every detail of the room in her line of sight, no stone would be left unturned; there was no rest for the wicked.
“Necessity is the number of invention,” Camilla quoted, golden hair shining against the light of the crystal chandeliers hanging above, “there but for the Grace of God go I; patience is but a virtue.”
Hardly impressed, Mitch responded, “The usage of proverbs is unnecessary.”
“That's what you want to think.”
“This is an operation. Not a lesson in English literature.”
Camilla mouthed what he said mockingly, flapping her hand around and using her deepest register of voice. Far too dedicated in mocking him, Camilla was.
Not too long after, Camilla let out a yawn, emphasizing the boredom she so wanted Mitch to hear for the remainder of this operation.
“Could the target come any sooner? I have a masseuse waiting for me at the spa…”
This woman… “Worry less about your appointment and more at the operation at hand.”
She grumbled. “Seems like you make it part of your routine to have a stick up your ass, you killjoy…”
“What was that?” Mitch challenged.
He felt the feigning of innocence in a smile he couldn't even see. “Nothing.”
“Just keep to your station, Mitch,” Camilla's voice was inconsistently low, irrigated. “You're acting like I'd sabotage this operation just for existing too loudly…”
“With the way you present yourself, I wouldn't be too shocked.”
She was going to throttle him when this was all said and done.
Looking for Cresswell was, unsurprisingly, a lot more work than Camilla had originally bargained for. It felt like the man knew his every move was being watched, listened to. That he was keeping Camilla and Mitch on their toes while they tried having surveillance on him.
It frustrated Camilla almost as much as it displeased Mitch.
“You know what— Why don't you come down here? A girl needs a little help, you know.” Camilla could survey a room and tell Mitch the target was secure, ripe for the picking; she couldn't survey an entire banquet venue.
Mitch felt his eyes narrow. A subconscious decision, on his part. Every ounce of his body told him that she didn't need his help, that she was playing a role in an intricately designed mask— the way she's always been.
… But there was also the part of him that could partially understand her inner frustrations.
“You don't need my help—”
“And what if I do?”
Is that another tease? Another lie? Mitch couldn't tell. When it came to a woman like Camilla, there was no telling what went on in her mind.
Uncharacteristically, the other end of the intercom was deathly silence. So sullen that all Mitch could hear was the sound of her breathing; eventually cursing at himself after imagining her breathing in and out of her chest.
Then there was a sigh. And Camilla's voice returned.
“Fine, then. No rest for the wicked.”
⊱───────────────⊰
“Found Cresswell.”
Camilla might've made an ‘effort’ in keeping her voice low, but it definitely didn't feel well-established. The sheer inconsistency made Mitch grit his teeth.
She went around the room, cozying up to a number of guests and getting them comfortable enough to get them to answer anything about Cresswell. Even with all the listening devices and hidden cameras throughout the room; Camilla believed it didn't hurt to take some extra measures.
Find Cresswell, take him someplace in the sights of Mitch's scope, and neutralize him. No matter how much Camilla wanted to question Victoria for wanting Cresswell alive, she couldn't go against the words of her Chairman.
Right before Cresswell could take his leave from the circle of guests he'd been cozying up to, Camilla had seamlessly hooked her arm around his.
“Why hello,” a charismatic intonation emitted from the way Cresswell had greeted Camilla's unexpected presence.
She smiled as sweetly as she was capable of, even if it hurt her cheeks. “Hi… Thomas Cresswell, yes?”
“So you've heard of me?”
“You could say that. I've heard quite a bit.”
“Well, well…” for someone who just became acquainted by an individual invading in his personal space, Cresswell acted in stride.
Making a vague wave to a nearby waiter, Cresswell took two glasses of champagne from the tray and handed one of those glasses to Camilla.
Wanting to play her part authentically, Camilla took a sip. She squirmed at the taste, but didn't make too exaggerated of a face. Not in front of Cresswell.
Speaking of Cresswell, Camilla — and Mitch — took notice that his arm had wrapped itself comfortably around the small of her back.
Camilla didn't seem to mind, but Mitch… he felt a wave of unease wash over him.
For reasons his feelings couldn't quite explain, he didn't like the way Cresswell kept his colleague close. Too close.
Camilla, ever the actress worthy of an award winning trophy, looked pleasantly neutral over the sudden brush of contact. Perhaps it was better that Mitch didn't go down and intercept them— she was doing her job, why stop her?
Because it felt wrong, he began thinking, because it could send the operation off kilter.
Because Cresswell shouldn't be as close as he currently was.
Not that Mitch could do anything about it. Not from this distance, and not even if he went down there himself and intercepted whatever flirtatious back and forth they were having.
It wasn't his business on how Camilla felt about Thomas Cresswell’s charms.
⊱───────────────⊰
Camilla successfully brought Cresswell up to the rooftop of the building, looking out at the city.
From Mitch's line of sight, Cresswell still kept his hand at the small of Camilla's back. He felt his hands tighten around his sniper.
Jiyoon would've asked a multitude of questions. Maybe, maybe not; all Mitch knew that he was being unfavorable tonight. Uncharacteristic.
Unlike himself; and above all, making him uncomfortable with his current feelings. Like he was wearing skin that didn't belong to him, skin that was too loose— or too tight.
“Beautiful, isn't it?” He heard Camilla engage in more smalltalk with Cresswell from the intercom.
A brief pause came, and the two were rewarded for the patience in the silence that followed. “Yes,” Cresswell said in a drawl. “Most certainly…”
Mitch stopped. He heard it, heard the sudden hitch of Camilla's breath. And through the scope of his gun, he could see why.
Cresswell's hand wasn't at her back, not anymore. It lingered there, yes, but it lowered— and now it went to her hips.
Lower it went. From her hips, to the upper area of her thighs.
And Mitch knew where Cresswell's hands were heading for. It was wrong, disgustingly wrong.
So why wasn't Camilla retaliating? A question Mitch asked over and over again in the back of his mind.
Camilla didn't retaliate. She didn't try and stop Cresswell. She only stood, idly by, letting it happen with a wide-eyed stare directed at nothing at the ground below her.
“But…” the bastard had the audacity to keep running his mouth, now standing tortuously close to Camilla, his free hand holding her in place; his lips close to her face. “I have something more beautiful, right here.”
If Mitch didn't know any better, he would've thought she was unaffected by the way Cresswell's hands wandered. But that look…
Shoot him, a sudden thought came to mind. It repeated, over, and over, and over.
Shoot him, shoot him, shoot him…
Mitch's grip on his gun tightened, an indecisiveness taking over his entire being. Body, soul, mind; all three fighting on what he should make of the current predicament Camilla was in.
But one thing's for certain— both his head, and his heart, told him to shoot.
That's what he did in the end. He pulled the trigger.
The initial plan was to tranquilize Cresswell from a distance; and once he was unconscious, they would've taken his unconscious body back to headquarters for interrogation with the Chairman.
However… Mitch, blind with nothing but the desire to stop Cresswell from doing what he was doing to Camilla — and any young women he'd get caught up with in the future — had made a last minute switch.
From tranquilizer, to silenced bullets.
Even from his distance, his line of sight was clear as the day that hadn't quite met them yet.
He'd blown a bullet between Cresswell's dark green irises, bits of his blood splattering onto Camilla.
Camilla stood stiffly, unmoving and unblinking even with the splats of blood on her face. And uncaringly, she ran a hand through her hair, and wiped her face with the back of her hand.
“... Mitch.”
“Yes?” Mitch answered, faster than he usually would have.
There a beat that passed before Camilla spoke again, maybe two. “... Get over here, we need to dispose of the body.”
The Chairman is going to be furious, was — more likely than not — a thought that lingered through both of their heads.
Unfortunately, that was going to be a problem for them in the future; they'll deal with that when they get back to the headquarters and Victoria, as well as Victoria's assistant, and Jiyoon, will be asking questions on why Cresswell wasn't with them.
Mitch made it to Camilla's side in record time, the sniper rifle used to pull the trigger between Cresswell's eyes strapped to his back.
At it again, he thought while examining Camilla. The blood on her face, the futile attempts at cleaning up, the lack of care on her face… she was pretending there's nothing wrong.
“Hey,” Mitch called out to her, a softness in his tone. Acting as if they didn't just throw Thomas Cresswell's limp body into the incinerator.
She stared blankly at him. Completely unlike her at all. “What?”
“Are…” Mitch didn't know how else to ask but to say it straight.
“Are you okay?”
Are we okay? He asked in the back of his mind, a small thought he quickly brushed off under his personal mental rug.
Camilla stared at him for an abnormally long time. Ever since they became partners for any and every operations assigned to them, she grew the questionable habit of staring at Mitch for extended periods of time.
But they never lasted as long as right now. From the corner of his eye, Mitch also saw her hand try to… reach out.
She then tucked her hands behind her back, seemingly catching her own wrist after a quick clear of her throat.
“I'm fine,” she tried to assure Mitch of that, quote on quote, ‘fact’. “More than fine, actually. What we should be worried about is the situation with Cresswell—”
“I don't care about Cresswell, right now.”
It only took one step on Mitch's part for their faces to soon be inches apart. Gently, his hands found their way to Camilla's shoulders, grasping at them.
“Cresswell isn't going to be a problem.” Mitch seemed far too sure about that. Perhaps even more for his own good. “The Chairman won't be a problem. Neither will her assistant, or Jiyoon, or any of her other executives.”
He stared at her — or rather, their eyes stared into each other; eyes blazing in righteous intensity that made Camilla's other hand place itself on Mitch's forearm.
Despite all the protests in his mind, he closed his eyes, pressing his forehead against hers. And despite herself, she too, did the same for him.
And they both whispered. A mantra, a promise. A secret they'll both keep and bring to their graves.
evil grin when i say ⚔️ and/or 🏳️ 4 lotsie and mitch
Ahoy ahoy Rev! You chose the right brainrot for this action😏
⚔️- During the battle
It's only a matter of time before Mitch totally loses his cool against Lotsie. He's been endlessly trying to end their fight as quick as possible and he should win, right?
🏳️- After the battle when they’ve lost
“...You won. Are you satisfied? Of course, you must be.”
Mitch doesn't like his loss to Lotsie. At all. But oh he's a man of honour and he'll lay off. Is he gonna bother Lotsie for winning? Yes.
Synopsis: He wasn't hers, and neither was she his. So why was it that when Mitch spent more time with people who weren't her, Camilla wanted to turn them to stone?
Warning(s): Camilla /j /j, Cami's a bitch but what else is new, Neige is oblivious to all 😔, Mitch thinks Cami's a witch but you just need to replace a letter- 💥🔫, potentially ooc
[ Apologies for any out of character moments ]
[ Reblogs > Likes ]
†•°•══════ஓ๑「𓆙」๑ஓ══════•°•†
Camilla never got jealous. She always told herself (and others) that, and usually she's entirely truthful about that fact about herself, in particular.
While Camilla was never the most honest among her peers, when it came to how she expressed herself — especially around people she considered ‘friends’ — she's an open book.
Unfortunately for the students of Royal Sword Academy, it seemed most of the student body had to walk around with a blindfold over their eyes; Camilla Marigold’s in a sour mood and that never ended well.
It was during lunchtime when Camilla spotted Mitch. The girl was quite enamored with the young man, and it wasn't hard to see why.
Mitch was… Well, Mitch was a lot of things, and one of those things was that he happened to be Cami's type.
Tall — taller than she was —, spoke his mind, pushed himself to his limits, intelligent (to some degree), and had an attractive face.
… Okay, maybe the details were pretty vague about why Camilla was attracted to him other than his looks, but trust that she liked him for more than that!!
Anyway! To transition into a more important topic, Camilla leaned against her table, grumbling to herself with narrowed eyes.
Neige had taken it upon himself to give Mitch some company, babbling about boring kinds of topics like… Whatever it is bland prince charmings like Neige talked about.
Ugh, Camilla hissed beneath her breath, the scales beneath her uniform beginning to itch. That little brat just doesn't know when to shut up, huh?...
“Are you watching Mitch again?”
Camilla released a large hiss, her hair on the brink of turning into her gossip-loving serpents. Upon seeing that it was just Davis — “blander than his color palette” — Novellion, Camilla just rolled her eyes, turning her attention back to Mitch and Neige.
“None of your business,” she retorted. Then she processed what Davis said before. “Also- What do you mean, again?”
“I thought it was obvious.” Davis was a lot of things, but at least he and his pompous ass knew what boundaries were and didn't try making himself comfortable on Camilla's table. “You like him.”
She hissed again. “I do not!”
“You do.”
“Do not.”
“Do too.”
“Do not!”
“I'm not having this conversation with you,” Davis exhaled, exasperation evident in the way he carried himself.
Probably because of that jousting incident last week, Camilla elicited a series of pitiful yet disgusted sounds at Davis' injured arm hanging from its cast.
That wasn't important, however. A different story for a different day. Whatever Davidson Novellion had going on in his life wasn't any of her business.
“Just-” Whatever words tried to get out of Camilla, she preferred not getting in trouble for offending a prince. “Just leave. Seriously, just leave.”
Davis gave her a knowing look, then shrugged his shoulders, letting them relax once he walked away from Camilla's isolated lunch table.
Not before telling her one last thing, though.
“If you think you were being subtle about your jealousy, Marigold, do keep in mind that you were never good at being subtle.”
•𓆙°─────────°𓆙•
Camilla wasn't the jealous type!
Whatever nonsense Davis was spouting, that's all it was. Nonsense. Camilla wasn't petty enough to stoop down to that level!
To prove any accusers wrong, she decided to try and be nice for once! Approaching Neige and Mitch with her best attempt at a polite smile.
A half-assed attempt to convince Mitch she wasn't someone to be wary of, but an attempt nonetheless.
“Leblanche!” Camilla ran up to Neige with a hearty grin, nearing the urge to gag at the way she ran like a befreckled lovestruck schoolgirl.
Neige turned to face her, that sickeningly sweet smile of his never seeming to fade. “Ah, Mari! It's so good to see you again!”
“Yes, quite!...” Camilla clasped her hands together, her smile painfully close to twitching away. She looked to Mitch, trying to gauge a reaction out of his impassively handsome face and getting next to none.
She harrumphed, pushing past Neige to stand before Mitch, face to face.
Mitch’s eyebrow raised in suspicion. “What is it that you want, Camilla?”
“Aha,” she smiled, cocking her head to one side and feigning coyness with him. “I'm not sure I get what you mean, Reiss.”
“Your presence isn’t welcoming.”
“I'd beg to differ, but I suppose we all have our opinions.”
“Your smile. It's-”
Her grin widened, and eyelashes batted at him. “Dazzling?”
Mitch straightened his stance. “Half-assed.” There remained his no-nonsense, emotionless expression.
Oh, how I wish to kiss you, Camilla thought whilst looking into his eyes. And strangle you all the same.
“So!” Neige just had to chime in, didn't he? “Mari, did you need something?”
“Yes, actually!” Camilla grit her teeth, her attitude becoming notably less sly and more forcefully cheerful.
“I've been meaning to spend some time with Mitch.”
Her gaze wanted to meet Mitch's, her smile having turned genuine with a simple turn of her head towards him. “If he would care to join me.”
“Oh! I'm sure Mitchy wouldn't-”
“That won't be necessary.”
Ah. It seems Neige was delighted by the prospect that needn't involve him, yet Mitch? Not so much.
“Oho? Why is that?” With her patience wearing thin, Camilla's attention remained solely on Mitch. Whatever Neige had to say could wait to be processed later.
Mitch sure wasn't persuaded. Then again, he never was when it came to Camilla's venom-laced tongue. “I'm sure you know exactly why.”
“I don't quite follow,” one step forward.
Another step forward. “I believe that to be false.”
“Is that so?” Camilla's smile faltered. Just the slightest bit closer, and Mitch could note the detail of scales on her neck. Perhaps even feel her breath against his chin.
“I'd prefer keeping things brief,” Mitch began escorting Neige far, far away from her. “But after what had gone down during VDC, I don't feel inclined to leave Neige to his own devices.”
“Apologies, but I must decline your offer.”
That didn't feel, nor sound, like an apology.
Camilla watched, with an inferno of aggravation lighting up in her eyes, as Mitch and Neige’s silhouettes slowly became colored shapes in the distance.
Her unique magic activated all on its own, mostly due in part to the way her emotions were affecting her current state of mind.
Her golden blonde locks lifted, the feeling all but unnerving when they melded together and became the serpents she both loved and despised.
“Oh, my darlings,” she whispered, practically hissed. A poor try at recovering her bearings. “You won't believe the gall of that man…”
No one dared draw near Camilla, especially not with her serpents around. Eye contact became something to avoid, and any greetings from friends were all but brief — no matter her efforts, Camilla couldn't help but tempt fear into the hearts of her peers.
She grit her teeth as she entered the comfort of her bedchambers. One of her many ways of relaxing was to hold one of her rifles.
Not shooting it, not loading it with ammunition, not even toying around with it… All she had to do was just hold it. And she felt content.
But a plethora of thoughts came to mind. Many of them unwanted, particularly in the topic of impassive little Mitch; A man who wasn't quite so little.
Camilla laid down on her bed, wrapping a blanket around and curling up pathetically — repeating the same words in her head like it was some mantra.
I am not a jealous girl.
•𓆙°─────────°𓆙•
She wasn't jealous!!
Camilla was a lot of things: Hypocritical, cunning, a bit too persistent for comfort, but not jealous!
With a need to blow off steam after that encounter with Neige and Mr. “I must decline your offer”, Camilla went to the beach that stood near RSA’s campus building.
With her pistols in hand, she swung and spun them around between her fingers — taking deep and heavy breaths to allow a sense of calm to wash over her.
That was when she began firing shots.
There wasn't much land or transportation near Sage Island. It was one of the reasons why Camilla was being so careless about where she was shooting.
However, when the sounds of footsteps over the sand drew near, Camilla pointed one of her guns at whoever dared approach her.
Mitch stopped in his tracks, an unsurprising face of neutrality as Camilla pointed her gun at him; A lack of fear at the possibility she'd get pissed off just from looking at him and pull the trigger.
“What are you doing here?” Camilla forced the words to come out.
“I could ask you the same thing,” said Mitch, “Isn't it unsafe for you to be firing those shots so carelessly?”
His tone was so matter-of-fact it made her want to hurl. “There's nothing and no one nearby. What am I gonna shoot? The seagulls?”
“You could if you were sufficiently motivated enough.”
“Don't test my patience, Mitch.”
“And,” Mitch continued, lowering her gun and taking another step towards her, “I don't remember us being on a first-name basis.”
“I don't remember you having the privilege of interrupting me while I was blowing off steam, but I'm not making any remarks, am I?”
“It sounds like you are.”
Camilla scoffed, putting one pistol into the holster to give Mitch a dismissive wave of her hand.
Mitch had a lot of opinions about Camilla Marigold — some good, many of them bad. But one of her key figures of interest was…
Well, she was pretty. Not even someone like Mitch could deny something like that. Especially not when her golden hair seemed to glow under the light of the sunset.
Whatever blabber Camilla was saying, Mitch couldn't hear it. He didn't feel the need to. Not with the way she stood there so horribly prettily with her shining hair blowing in the wind.
It was an oddly specific, yet significantly romantic setting. The kind of scenario Mitch refused to bring up in whatever conversation he was having with her.
“... You said you were blowing off steam?”
Her ramblings fell short at his words, and they both stared at each other for longer than what seemed necessary.
She coughed, avoiding his attentive gaze. “Yeah… Why, you got a problem with that?”
Mitch huffed. “I don't.” He then looked down at the ground, at the soft sand beneath them, before looking up once more.
“... May I?” He reached out to gently touch her face, tucking her blonde hair behind her ear.
Camilla felt heat rise from her neck up to the tip of her head. “W-What are you doing??” She nearly stumbled as she stepped back.
“Apologies,” Mitch said briefly, “but I asked you a question?”
“Well sorry, Mr. Personal Space, but I didn't quite follow.”
Silence soon fell upon them yet again, lasting far longer than it did before. So unnerving even with the contrived peacefulness of it all.
Camilla pouted. Both her pistols were in their respective holsters, her arms folded over her chest. “Well?”
Mitch’s eyes flickered their attention between her, her eyes, and the pistols safely tucked into their holsters.
He said nothing for a long while, doing nothing but gaze at her with that attentive, almost lost look in his eyes.
He gestured to one of her pistols. And when she — very cautiously — handed one of them to him, he aimed at the far distance.
“... Would you allow me the honor of joining you?”
How would your blorbos (specifically Mitch) think of Cami :coconut_stare:
Who does she think she is to think Mitch would fear her? (Oh boy! You're in for a treat Mitch! You'd definitely fear her for not the reasons you expect!)
Mitch despises Camilla's influence and voice. Not really her influence but definitely her (singing) voice.
Mitch wouldn't deny it, but Camilla is attractive. He really won't deny it, she's at the level of high beauty. But, a snake is a snake, whatever comes out of her mouth; Mitch is wary of it. But alas, he still gives her the benefit of the doubt... even if the results are what he expects.
Overall, Mitch wants to observe more Camilla before he regrets things he cannot change.
+Bonus! Mitch and Camilla are close and interacting like close friends (or rather closer than that)
A regressor who pushes himself to test the limits. Mindful of the mistakes he knows he makes.
A regretful person who won't hesitate to die for something and retry for another test and trial.
Name: Mitch Reiss (Shin Mitch/신미치 He rarely uses both of his last name but he sticks to his fathers name; Reiss)
Nicknames: The Sword of Change, Regretful Regressor, Protector
Other nicknames: Mitch-nim, Team Leader-nim (JiUiRen), Idiotic Regressor (UiO), Annoying/Cold Leader (Miren), Mitchy (Neige), Purrtector (Chenya), Chevalier du roi Neige/Knight of King Neige (Rook),
Relatives: Shin Mista (sister)
Species: Human (Regressor)
An impassive man that contrast Jiyoon's laidback personality. A person ready to sacrifice anything for the sake of peace and the other people's safety, may it be his own life or the wellbeing of his immortal companion. He has a sharp tongue ready to scrutinize any mistakes or any details he finds unjust.
While he always has his guard up, getting pass his unpleasant personality, you'll find a leader who worries for your sake. He may not show it, but his gestures of simplicity can reveal his caring nature.
Hobby: Reading, Sparring
Dorm in RSA: Wouldn't disclose, seems to be in the same dorm with Neige LeBlanche
Best subject: History of Magic, PE
Worst subject: Alchemy
Club: Fencing club
Favorite food: Spicy Foods, Tteokbokki, Takoyaki
Least favorite food: overly sweet, too much salt, anything that UiO cooked
Unique (world) magic/s
"Back once again" regression
Dying lets him turn back time to any specific way he wants. People affected by time (Immortal, Transmigrator, etc) can retain their memories whenever Mitch turns back time, the others, forgetting what has happened and only remembering what they are seeing in the present.
So far he has not died in Twisted Wonderland.
REGRESSION NUMBER;; UNKNOWN
"A way to turn back"
Slashing in specific weak spot can return any abnormalities to normal, he can use it to living beings promptly making them pass out. His power significantly drains a lot of energy and a wrong slash can drain a lot than usual.
Thankfully, he has not accidentally used his power on others.
Original World: A world full of chaos. Now can't go back since the medium, UiO, is with them.
Original Worlds Alias: The monstrous sword of the prince, Cold Hero, the Witch's accomplice, The Red Traitor
--Additional Info!--
Mitch somehow finds his way to Night Raven College and usually stays at the Ramshackle to either cool off or to observe the wellbeing of the five.
He question Jiyoon why she still haven't cut ties with Vil Schoenheit after the VDC incident, he guesses that it's because related to "envy".
Him and Miren are getting along, albeit very slowly.
If he was being honest, he sees himself way more fit in NRC rather than the goodie-two-shoes RSA.
He became Neiges bodyguard after the stunt Vil pulled in VDC.
He always carry a sword to be ready in any situation needed.
The only thing Mitch likes about Miren is how good of a cook he is.
Logs that can be found:
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"Change is part of life. I guess that means well that I cannot deny it."
