The first outing into an active role as a shinigami was always exciting. This was not the team's first assembly, but it was near enough for the novices to still feel a sense of excitement as they ventured out into the world that was inhabited by humanity. They could count on one hand the number of times they had visited this realm, and the fascination only grew as each infinitesimal detail was discovered, further layers to the fabric of the world beginning to show themselves as the young shinigami digested what they had previously seen. No doubt, in time they would become just as jaded as many of the elders, or else simply nonchalant. But, for now they were the bright eyed and bushy tailed personification of youth. This particular team consisted of four members, three of which were just growing into their roles, blooming much like flowers, although with a little luck their brilliance would be somewhat longer lasting. The fourth was their commander and teacher, a gruff man that did not tolerate failure, insubordination or mistakes. While he accepted that no one was perfect, if a preventable error was allowed, he inevitably came down on them like a tonne of bricks. His harshness was born out of a love for order, and his race, but this did not make it any easier to bear when his wrath inevitably turned against those he was tasked with training. Although green, the three he instructed were by no means defenceless, and were so far proving reasonably adept at their work, if a little fast and loose in their actions at times. One of these was a proud young woman by the name of Ophelia, an earnest girl with a heart of steel and a desire to live up to a familial legacy that was still being forged by the matriarch of the family. It was a tough act to follow, but she intended to be an asset to her family, as well as her race. Her ability to see the colour and intensity of souls was more of a blessing than usual, given her unfortunate disability. The blonde had been born lacking functioning optic nerves, something that had puzzled onlookers at first, seeing as her eyes had always appeared functional - pupils retracting and dilating correctly - it was simply that somewhere along the pathway of those particular nerves, the connection was lost, and so the signals never quite reached her brain. To begin with, her parents and wider family had been rather protective of the blind girl, supervising her religiously as she attempted to forge out ahead, just as any small child might do. Many a time had she frightened the lives out of her mother in her antics, often wandering into just the same danger as others her own age, and coming out unscathed, in much the same manner. It was perhaps this precociousness that had eventually led to her being allowed to join the academy in which the militarily shinigami were trained. Ophelia had relished the challenge, and although it had taken her longer to get the basics down pat, by the age of ten she was broaching the ranks of the average, forcing her way up through them until she was sure she was anybody's equal. It was a matter of pride, both personal and familial. In the present, the now adult woman strode with confidence into the realm of the humans, clustered among her teammates, smiling as she walked, apparently pleased to be entering into this world. They were headed towards a large city, and to a hospital situated within this area. It was a good place for the novices to start, as there were always souls in need of ushering into the afterlife, as well as those that died in more difficult circumstances and were ripe for demonic activity. The goal was to get to these before they had a chance to sink into the darkness, but sometimes things did go wrong - something they would soon learn. "There are more than last time." Ophelia observed, furrowing her brow as she attempted to count the vast number of souls situated in just the accident and emergency department. What she didn't understand, was it was a Saturday night here, and the place was full of drunken louts, which may have accounted for the vast number of sickly yellow souls that were at once garish and disconcerting in their colour. But, they were all bright and healthy, aside from the instability of the auras that was only a short term complaint. The woman tapped her cane on the ground impatiently, turning away in search of what their true goal was, though she first turned to her friend, asking her, "Are there any nearby that we should be looking at?" With her ability to see the times of death, she was far better placed to make a judgement. So, for the time being, Ophelia only waited for her answer, running her thumb along the ridge of the wooden cane that would reveal a slim rapier, should it be depressed. It was a practical solution, as there were times when she needed a little physical guidance, and the slim sword happened to suit her fighting style rather well.