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Over time, the growing team of the Teen Titans became weary of staying in the same tower--not to mention, they were running out of space to build additions and new rooms. So, the aspiring young 'newbie' Titans decided to move out and build a Tower of their own. Thus began the Titans West. Their Tower located just off the coast of Dakota City, the new Titans have many new obstacles to overcome; new villains, each other, and the problem of electing a new leader--to name a few.
So here we find our Titans in their crudely made Tower with several things now in their way...the team members are, as it stands:
Zetro
Recca
Breyze
Silver
Aurora
Iria
Defender ~ yet to be initiated
Chance ~yet to be initiated
Seirou~yet to be initiated

First obstacle: The Titans West need to elect a leader. Who shall it be?
Second obstacle: Initiation for the new Titans

The long and winding alleyways of the well kept district seemed to glow in the darkness. The neatly kept bushes were lined up in a perfect row down her right side. Aginst the cold stone only the faintest whisper of sound could be heard as she sprinted like a shadow, swift and silent, down the roads.

One would wonder how she managed such a feat in what would usually be considered as a very movement restricting garment, but somethings don't have to be explainable to be true.

Around Iria's shoulders, the firmly clasped cloak blew dramatically out from behind her. The few glimpses one might catch consisting of a deathly pale hand resting lightly against the sheath of a sword.

A few streets away lay her target. The jaunty laughter of the three guards ringing in her ears like a siren as she darted into the nearby shadows.

In the center of the small group walked the victim. His overly large belly droppping over the expensive glimmering belt he had purchased for himself. His round face and glimmering eyes simply shouting the word 'greed' just in their expressions.

As they passed, Iria emerged from behind them, her deadly cold and monotonous voice piercing their skulls. "Barken Maw, i am here to deliver justice, i would advise you to accept your fate and lay down arms".

A silence followed. A silence full of humour. They all burst out lauging.
"This woman thinks she can defeat us?" mocked one.
"Let's see you try, girly" sneered another.
They had made a mistake.

The same pale hand gripped the sheath and with the other she grabbed the hilt, her thumb flicking the sword away from the sheath with a small click. Iria darted forward, heading for one of the loudmouth guards who mocked her like she was some child, applying pressure to the blade it emerged from it's sheath amazingly fast, the momentum of her run carrying her forward until the man lay in two pieces on the ground.

A silence followed. A deadly silence. They weren't laughing anymore.

"Lay down your arms or die" she stated to the guards coldly, their once mocking eyes glimmering in sudden fear. They called themselves men? Sharply she flicked the blade off to her side, the oozing and thick blood that had covered it managing to work itself free and join with the already huge pool of blood around them. As she pulled it up and sheathed it once more the guards seemed to snap out of they're daze.

With a loud ringing sound, one man pulled his gun from it's holster, his large face puffing out in anger and hatred. With a feeble battle cry he lunged at her, gun aimed straight for her heart. Deflecting the bullet off of her sword she went in for a forward thrust, parried weakly by the remaining stregnth of the guard. Pathetic. With an easy downward strike she discarded him off to the side, his blood splattering across her front in sickening patterns.

Flicking her blade once more she stood amongst the pool of blood and sheathed her sword once more. Her victim and one more pathetic guard stood in her way.

Suddenly, against her leg, she felt the burning sensation as a sword was plunged through her leg. Stifiling a muffled cry of surprise she quickly drew her blade and thrust it backwards, the dead man falling limply to the floor.

Damnit, why had she let her guard down! She knew there was usually four guards! Gritting her teeth she sheathed her sword and easily swiped through the last guard.

Whistles could be heard against the silence as loomed over the cowering noble. With a triumphant cry he yelled into the night. "Shes here! The assasin is here! Quickly come!".

How had they found her? It was probably the battle cries of those pathetic guards. It seems they're deaths were worth something, but not much. Just as the troop rounded the corner at the far end of the street she thrust her blade right through the heart of the startled man, finishing with a quick blow to his jugular. Flicking her blade once more she sheathed it and dropped the customary note reading "Justice" and ran like the wind, her wound slowing her down considerably as she sprinted back to the run down ware house where she stayed the lonely nights.

That seemed to just get colder and colder.

Their would never be a place of warmth for a person like Iria. Not in Dakota.

She started as a voice called out from close-by, her head spinning so fast it made her neck crick.

Stumbling away from the voice she blinked dizzily "Stay away from me" she tried to shout, but it came out as little above a whisper and she banged her way through the warehouse door, staggering over to the low bench where she huddled herself in the darkness, her vision bllurring as she felt blood seep from her open wound. The sword had most probably hit a vein of some sort for she was sure it should not be bleeding this heavily.

Her ragged breath broke through the eerie silence as she thought about her odds.

One, she could refuse the help of a doctor and this person and end up d ying in some strange warehouse. Two, she could accept the help of a doctor an reveal her identity to the public and have to kill the doctor after he had just helped her. Or three, accept the help of the stranger and have to risk none of that except for the 'keeping the identity secret thing'. She sighed slightly and nodded once in the strangers direction.

It was worth the risk.

Iria gingerly chewed on the sour herb and pulled away the blood-stained cloth that hid the deep wound from view. ((*sigh* Writers block -_-))

Iria heard the sharp intake of breath from the stranger but thought nothing of it, nor did she think anything of the glowing blue hands of her doctor. Gifts and powers just kept getting more frequent these days, it didn't surprise her that this healer had some skill as well.

She felt her breathing become less strained and her muscles relax as the wound slowly healed over , the pain pulling back away and dispelling in an instant. As soon as she had gotten back most of her stregnth she reached forward and grasped the wrists of her helper, pulling her hands away. "That's...enough" she said quietly "Thankyou....for your help".