[System]
*Nicknames/Aliases:
Character Type: Protagonist
Age: 17
Gender: Male
Appearance:

Clothing Style: Barnabas mostly has a gentle sense of fashion. He doesn't choose colors that grate on the eyes or are difficult to look at for an extended amount of time. He chooses earthy hues of green, brown and blue, as well as the occasional vivid red here and there. He doesn't wear strictly one color, or too many colors at the same time. He prefers to keep his wardrobe balanced. He doesn't really wear any jewelry, because he doesn't really have the money in his account to buy any fancy watches or rings with genuine gemstones. It's rare to see him wear plaid, fur of any kind, or khakis. During the colder seasons, he wears over-sized sweaters and baggy jeans. During the warmer seasons, he embraces t-shirts as well as shorts. Most of his wardrobe is bought cheaply, sometimes from thrift stores, but he manages to make it work anyways. He's good at making something extraordinary from something mediocre. He takes care to keep his appearance neat and tidy.

Personality: Barnabas is a young lad with a lot of confidence. He's very extroverted and has a playful, energetic and even flamboyant demeanor. He tends to notice whenever he's making people uncomfortable, and will cease what he's doing that makes them uncomfortable immediately. Unless he's making someone he doesn't like unhappy, then he'll immediately stop and apologize. He's excessively independent, to the point were he absolutely hates depending on anyone else. He believes that those who depend on others are weak. He doesn't like to be grouped with others, and likes to rely on his own strength because it makes him feel good about himself and stable. He truthfully loves and treasures his independence everyday. Whenever he gets ill, he usually tries to remain by himself. He secretly fears the diseases that plagued him returning to incapacitate him once more. He hates being around anyone who is sick, and is a bit of a germaphobe.

He's a diligent worker. Whenever an acquaintance asks a favor of him, it'll usually be on the top of his priority list. He knows how to get work done. He doesn't crumble underneath pressure or deadlines, and he certainly isn't one to procrastinate. He's very supportive of those around him, and urges them to chase their dreams and goals without stopping. He encourages others to do what they wish with their lives, and to push through everything terrible that might be happening in their lives. Barnabas refuses to let anyone around him give up. He's actually very stubborn himself and refuses to give up. He also refuses to accept assistance when he needs it. He believes thoroughly in his own strength, perhaps to the point where it's foolish.

Unfortunately, Barnabas is rather judgmental. Most first impressions made on him are made from appearance. He doesn't like people who have little to no fashion sense, and easily dislikes people he views as "slobs". Those who dress "too gaudily" annoy him. Barnabas is also rather indulgent and will often buy expensive items for himself and eat as much as he wants. He's also a bit smug after any victory he has. If he's beaten someone he dislikes in battle, then he'll tend to bring it up a lot and rub in their faces. If it's significant victory, then he'll become even more aggressive. Although, he isn't a sore loser and will easily train more instead of mope around and cry about his loss. He dislikes arrogant people, mostly because their own egos conflict with his own.

Hobbies/Talents*: Sewing, sculpting, cooking

Past/History: Barnabas was born to a wealthy doctor and interior decorator. Although his parents had been a happy couple, Barnabas was born as a very sickly child. He was hospitalized for most of his childhood, and was rarely at home. Due to this, he rarely was able to socialize with anyone his own age. Because of his condition, he could not play with other children very well. He spent most of his time around adults which caused him to mature very quickly. He was ill for a majority of his life, and even though he wasn't able to have a pokemon until he was much older, he loved the idea of being a pokemon trainer. The idea of being a pokemon trainer caused a spark to ignite within him. He now had a major goal to achieve. There was work to be done. While he was educated mostly by private tutors, he also obtained books about pokemon and worked on teaching himself about pokemon to the best of his abilities.

After being released from his beyond long stay at the hospital, Barnabas enrolled in trainer school at a very late age. He was about fourteen when he enrolled, and after he realized that there was no need for him to be overly cold or mature, his flamboyant, energetic and superficial personality emerged. He was able to graduate at age sixteen, and easily obtained his starter from the region's professor, Professor Snowbell. He started his journey earlier than the other trainers, but has been summoned back to help with the recent influx of new, upcoming trainers.
Pokemon:
/Roxy/Female/Dragon Claw, Ember, Growl/Jolly Nature/Ability: Blaze/No held item

[User]
That was the very reason Nero always kept his distance from others; shouting, falling and pokémon-attacking-trainer. This whole ordeal could've been avoided... if they simply kept themselves quiet. An annoyed sigh ghosted past the boy's lips as he rolled his eyes; the Eevee, seemingly by it's own, appeared in a flash of red light over the boy's shoulder, it's black eyes glancing from side to side. The pokémon was already beginning to trust Nero, but only by a little bit.

The trainer began walking foward, trying to avoid the other trainers - naturally. Once he managed to sneak through the commotion and pick up a pokédex, a rather broad smile appeared on his lips. He smiled so frequently, sadly, it was never because of anyone but his own reasons. "See, Eevee? This will help us a lot,"

Nero murmured to the pokémon, using the pokédex on the brown furball. Information regarding Eevee and his species appeared on the screen, the boy nodded and placed the pokédex on his backpack. He'd find an easier way to attach it somewhere, later. Now, he truly wanted to get out and proceed to the closest gym around. Perhaps that'd be a good way to test how much he and Eevee were able to understand one another... Or, maybe, battle any of the trainers around here, earn some battling experience which isn't theoric. Or... Nero's eyes glanced towards the pokéballs. Would he be allowed to pick up a starter, even though he had one already?

[Assistant]
Amelia

Amelia looked up at Sigurd as she noticed him approach and her face turned a bright shade of red as she looked back at the ground and removed her hands from her ears.
"S-sorry." She stuttered, her voice low, almost to the point of being inaudible. She had never talked to anyone older then her that she had never known before so she was rather scared of this stranger. Her Litwick ignored the Scraggy staring at it and moved over to Amelia.

"Litwick, Lit?" It asked, sounding concerned. Amelia just gave it a small smile before looking at up at Sigurd

"Sorry. I don't handle loud noises very well. Something about them has always scared me." She said." And sorry about Litwick. She's a bit protective of me."

[User]
The fact that people traveled high velocities on hollow metal tubes called trains was one that was drilled into young minds during school. However, experiencing it was something that couldn't be explained that easily. Lucas broke his gaze and thoughts from the scenery speeding by outside to pay attention to his lap. Skip was sleeping peacefully despite the train's constant vibrations. A nap did sound good right about now, but he had to stay awake to know when to get off. Which, according to the trains deceleration, was coming right up. He softly shook Skip awake, and as soon as the mudkip got off his lap, he stood up. It felt good to stretch out his legs as he walked off the train into the station... only to realize this wasn't what he had expected. The buildings in the town were much older than he thought they would, and there were more people too. An odd combination. Standing around wouldn't help at all though, so he headed into the town with Skip right beside him.

The town itself wasn't that bad, Lucas had to admit. The stores seemed nice enough with smells that nearly tempted him to break into his supply of money. Before he could be tempted however, he sat down on a bench to check his supplies. Each time he checked, the backpack seemed bigger by lack of content, and this time was no exception. Sighing, he zipped it and got up. He and Skip kept on walking through the town, until Lucas noticed the one building that stood out from the rest. The professor had to know some things that could help him around here. He and Skip walked up to the doors, and they slid open with ease.

The scene that awaited the two was a bit... odd, by any standard. A young girl was on the ground with a teenage boy kneeling beside her. It seemed that the boy did something that upset or hurt the girl by accident. Besides them, there were a scraggy, litwick, piplup, and charmeleon in the room. Finally, the professor and presumably assistant were standing next to some pokeballs and another boy, who was holding a device in his hands directed at an eevee. It was a lot to take in at once.

"Um..." Lucas couldn't find any words to say, or questions to ask. He couldn't help but feel awkward in this situation. It felt like he had intruded on a sacred ceremony, or something like that.

[Assistant]
Sigurd grinned and pat Amelia's head with his fingerless gloved hand. "No need to apologize kiddo. Let bygones be bygones shall we?" Even if he was a loud person Sigurd was as far as someone can get from being mean. Scary, yeah, if someone were on the receiving end of his fists when in a scuffle then yes that would be scary. It's not like he wanted to frighten this little girl, hell he's never really thought of himself as an intimidating person at all. Then again being the loud person that he is would be frightening to someone who is afraid of loud things, like him.

He offered his hand to help her back up. "The name is Sigurd Melodia, call me however as you wish. That little rascal over there is Rusty and that is..." He looked at the piplup for a solid ten seconds before shrugging. "I'll name it later." Hopefully introducing himself to her would make her feel less nervous than she already is.

[User]
There were a lot of people in the train station, and a good percentage of them were much, much taller than Minzy. Maybe this would have intimidated a person who was a little more shy, or a little less brash, but Minzy? She took it as a challenge!

It took her a while to fight her way through the milling crowd of people, and there was quite honestly a lot of elbowing involved. Still: she made it out of the train station eventually. The air outside was cold and clear, and she took a deep breath. She was in the Giga region! She'd wanted to step out of her brother Andy's shadow, and well, here she was. It was unlikely that anyone would recognise her as the younger sister of a Sinnohan competitive battler here!

Not that she didn't love Andy. She did, just… Well. She'd think about that later.

Her Tynamo, Frey, zapped her gently, like he was trying to remind her of the task at hand. She winced To be honest… it kind of hurt. But Frey had been doing that since her dad had given him to her, so she would put up with it.

"What was I supposed to do…?" she wondered aloud. Then she remembered, and clapped her hands together, pleased. "Oh, right. The Pokemon Lab!"

She took off in the direction that she was fairly sure the Pokemon Lab was in. In reality, she had no clue where she was going, but hey! She was wearing her favorite sweatshirt and her most comfortable pair of cargo shorts. Things would be okay.

It therefore took her almost half an hour of helpless wandering before she actually found herself at her destination.

When she stepped in through the doors, there was already a group of people inside. There was a professor, and a boy with him that was maybe an assistant. Standing by the Pokeballs was a shy-looking boy, and in the center of the room, a boy seemed to be helping a very young girl off the floor. Another boy had clearly just entered the room, and was staring at the scene. He looked just as confused as Minzy felt.

What should she do? Minzy didn't mull over the question for too long. When in doubt, be brave! She marched up to the people who looked sort of like they were in charge (maybe…?), and then struggled not to shrink into herself under the weight of their combined gazes. She could do this. She could do this!

"Um." Minzy said at last, summoning every ounce of boldness in her body. "Hi. I'm Minzy Quinn. I think I called in yesterday to let you know that I was coming by to pick up a Pokedex, and maybe a starter Pokemon if you have one to spare?"

She pulled her right hand out of her pocket and stuck it out for one of the professors to shake.

[Assistant]
Professor Snowbell watched the scene unfold. He actually wasn't angered in the slightest. This little scuffle was the most interesting event to happen all day. He waited for the entire scene to be over. Professor Snowbell was a fickle man that grew bored of his work and assignments easily. It was only natural that he seek something out to amuse him, whatever that might be. Unfortunately, dealing with little brats wasn't really his favorite pass times. Especially if Barnabas happened to be one of those little brats. He quickly had sent Barnabas back to get some Pokedexes that were in a heavy box. As Sigurd worked on helping Amelia up, Barnabas, who had been retrieving Pokedexes from the back, hurried to make sure everyone was doing alright.

"Is everyone alright?" Barnabas quickly moved beside Amelia and Sigurd, looking at the two in order to see if there were any obvious injuries. He observed that several new trainers had arrived, Lucas, Nero and Minzy had arrived on the scene. "Hello everyone." Barnabas greeted, waving his hand enthusiastically. As the situation settled down, Professor Snowbell stepped forward once again. The white-haired, youthful professor looked over the small crowd that had assembled in his lab.

"Take your starters and pokedexes, and then scram, will you?" The fabulously curly-haired young man turned, hair flipping sassily as he did so. "I don't really have time to be dealing with this fiasco anymore." As Minzy approached, the professor kind of just turned his back on the girl. "We received your call, and accepted your application no matter how late it was." He said the word late a bit scathingly. The Professor was obviously very prickly. Barnabas observed Professor Snowbell through slightly narrowed eyes, although he turned around.

"No need to by shy, everyone!" He assured the trainers. "Come and get what you need." Lucas seemed to be very uncomortable, so Barnabas gazed at him in particular, with a friendly gaze.


[System]
Race: Human

Gender: Male

Age: 35

Appearance:

(-5'6, 164ibs, White rinkled skin, Stocky build, Short black hair, Hazelnut eyes.)

Bio: Rudolph Kestrell grew up in a modest home as an only child, in his homeland of the Grand Duchy of Bergkoff.
His upbringing was nothing special, and hoping for something more out of his life, he joined the Bergkoff Guard, its military.

Rudolph would meet a fellow soldier named Hectar Fullar, the two men would get on very well. After a few years service, they both aspired to be an officer, soon enough a friendly rivalry would occur, both competing for duties that would offer them a good rep. Rudolph and Hectar would be soon assigned to different regiments. The two not meeting again for sometime.
Rudolph would be tasked later on by the Duke of Bergkoff to head to the Empire to help train its new recruits as a sign of good faith.

(Grand Duchy of Bergkoff:

This country was once a part of the Kingdom of Karsburg, but after a devastating invasion at the hands of a Drow warlord, the country collapsed, bringing the majority of its royal family down with it. The survivors of the aftermath however, eventually took refuge within the last standing city of Bergkoff, a prosperous merchant city. And soon enough, it became its own independent city state, hoping to one day regain what was lost.

The dwarves of the neighbouring mountain side had developed good relations with the kingdom, and maintains it with the Duchy. Bergkoff helps them sell their wares whilst the dwarves provides their technological knowledge and skills.)

Personality quirks:

Traits: Not much disturbs him, and he'll face any adversary with equal measure.

Ideals: "I'll serve my country, as is my duty and honour. I respect those who prove they have potential."

Bonds:
- Sergeant Fullar, a fellow soldier from his homeland, and an old rival and friend. They had joined the military and rose through the ranks side by side.

- Captain Murz, Rudolphs captain whom he served under on several fronts. Both men had earned eachothers respect. During a time when Rudolph was on leave, Murz had disappeared along with his battalion during a routine patrol through the Theost forest.

Flaws: Tends to zone out when he is talked at. Is often found bored when not fighting or travelling. Is often presumed to be grumpy.

Fighting Style: He mainly uses a Halberd as his prefered weapon of choice, and as such, has a decent amount of skill using it. He's reasonably efficent with other weapons too due to his length in service and training.

Equipment:

Weapons- Halberd, Short Sword & Small Shield. A basic flintlock pistol with 12 shots.
Armour- Breastplate, Padded vest and Leather vambraces & greaves.
Other- A knapsack containing: Water canteen, basic rations, his personal journal, and a thick cloak.
A gunpowder horn and 12 iron shots in a pouch.

Skills/Abilities:

- Experienced officer: Rudolph has experience in leading men into combat. He has a decent amount of strategic knowledge.

- Polearm proficiency: As halberds are his go to weapons, other weapons of a similar nature are easy to use for him.

- Explosives: He has some knowledge of how to create bombs and the like, as is part of his military training.

- Basic tinkering: Due to a lack of magic in Bergkoff, and the occasional influence by the Dwarves, working on devices and machines that would be seen as uncommon or outright rare elsewhere is commonplace in Bergkoff. As such, Rudolph himself has had a hand in some tinkering alongside the training he recived in the military.

-=Rules=-

1. Listen to the GM(s), If you have a complaint tell me. I am not an evil dictator and if I am wrong I will admit it.
2. Romance and Gore allowed, But keep it in good taste and in site rules
3. Now not all characters will play nice with each other I understand that, but keep the disputes in the RP not in OOC
4. Be civilized and polite please
5. All basic RP rules apply to this roleplay: Power playing, Meta gaming, and others are not allowed.
6. The story isn't exactly set, if you have an idea for a mission feel free to pm me the details and I'll try to work it in.
7. Copy the rules into a Hider in the "other" of your cs so I know you read them.
8. Get into your character's skin become him or her as you are playing have fun and give us insight into their thoughts.
9. Try to keep active, in both the IC and OOC pages please. And even if you don't have anything to say, at least read the OOC

[User]
Leonidas nodded back at the Duke following him into the office. "Yes we do have a lot to go over. Please give me a run down of what you know? Do we know how many we are up against? What are our defenses at the moment? Is there any weak points in the city we need to know about? How long will your supplies last?" Leonidas began questioning as soon as they were in the office attempting to get a grasp on the situation of the town. "As for Siegfried, yes he and his forces will hopefully arrive in two days. Have you received anything from the dwarves will they be able to help us?" Leonidas continued adding to the list of unanswered questions.

----
Western Gate

The quiet of the morning is once again broken as a bell starts to ring form on top of the gate. "Here they come boys! everyone to your positions!" a guard yelled out from the gatehouse. The soldiers instantly jumped into action. preparing for the attack. from the top of the wall a group of what looked like 200 Goblins seemed to be poring out what must of been a cave entrance hidden by a hill. Guards on the walls readied their bows with very few having rifles waiting for the Goblins to get into range before opening fire.

[Assistant]
The warlock simply nodded as he followed along. Buildings take damage during a siege-- this much was an inevitability. However, Balthazar was still surprised to see destruction done to parts of the keep itself. He had not seen any siege weapons on the way in, which left sabotage or magic as the cause of the destroyed war room. Goblins and Orcs rarely took up the arcane arts, but their shamans are known to have knowledge of the more primal magics. Still, it was a good thing that Duke Karstilli had survived; a city can survive the loss of a building, but the death of their leader is much more difficult, especially during a siege.

As the Prince asked his questions, Balthazar reached into his coat pocket, retrieving the envelope that had been delivered to him. It had likely been opened at least once before in spite of the presence of the unbroken wax seal, but he was confident that the information was not compromised. Now in a secure location, the man opened the letter, reading the battle reports and placing the map on the desk whilst keeping the letter to him within the envelope itself. There would be time to read that later. Once he was done, he placed the reports on the desk for others to review, if they wished to. The papers on this desk would prove useful for both tactical and strategic analysis of the battle to come.

There are three papers within Balthazar's report: two pages of information and a single large map. It is written in a simple Imperial cipher-- one that any Imperial officer or noble would understand at a glance. These reports detail the enemy's strength: roughly a thousand soldiers strong, comprised primarily of Goblins. Two hundred of the enemy forces are made up of proper Orc Warriors, who seem to make up the army's elite. There is also word of one or two Ogres, who likely serve as impromptu siege weaponry or shock troops. Their leader is Waruk Shieldbreaker, an Orc Warlord of little renown, who seems to be attacking in an attempt to grab power in the area, and to bring glory to his name... Due to the lack of ambition in his circle of officers, it is likely that with his death, the invading army will collapse.

It is difficult to pin down their exact movements, due to their use of the local mountain cave systems to traverse the region. Curiously, they've managed to avoid both Dwarven and Human patrols thanks to this tactic. The attached map lists several cave openings that can be collapsed to prevent the arrival of further reinforcements or to funnel the enemy into a single bottleneck. It appears that the enemy has mostly been attacking from the north and that the city's cannons have been holding the enemy at bay, for now.
"Our scouts once reported numbers between two hundred and a thousand, but my informants say it is the latter. We can expect at least a thousand enemy combatants." He starts. It could be rude for an advisor to speak before the lord of the house can, but not only was Balthazar himself was a lord, he was also the Prince's aide. His word was to be respected and taken under heavy consideration. "Eight hundred Goblins, two hundred Orcs, and perhaps an Ogre or two, lead by Waruk Shieldbreaker, an Orc Warlord of little renown."

"In addition, they've been using the underground cave systems to travel. There appear to be several prime locations for us to cut off their supply lines, but we'll need more time before we act upon that." The spymaster looked up at Duke Karstilli, an eyebrow raised. "Can you corroborate this information? I must know if my accounts are still accurate."

Of course, in spite of how well-informed Balthazar can be, Duke Karstilli was indeed the lord of the house. They would have to follow his lead and not the other way around, even if the Prince was here. Still, the warlock knew that the Duke was a man of reason, and was not a man with a hot temper. If the spymaster recalled correctly, the Duke was a man of honor who appreciated it when things were simple. A man of the people. Balthazar waited politely for the Duke to answer both the Prince's questions as well as his own.

[User]
"Yes we do have a lot to go over. Please give me a run down of what you know? Do we know how many we are up against? What are our defenses at the moment? Is there any weak points in the city we need to know about? How long will your supplies last?"
Leonidas began as soon as they entered the office. "As for Siegfried, yes he and his forces will hopefully arrive in two days. Have you received anything from the dwarves, will they be able to help us?" he continued.

Then Balthazar spoke up soon after, "Our scouts once reported numbers between two hundred and a thousand, but my informants say it is the latter. We can expect at least a thousand enemy combatants." Balthazar reviewed his notes from the report before he continued, "Eight hundred Goblins, two hundred Orcs, and perhaps an Ogre or two, lead by Waruk Shieldbreaker, an Orc Warlord of little renown. In addition, they've been using the underground cave systems to travel. There appear to be several prime locations for us to cut off their supply lines, but we'll need more time before we act upon that." Balthazar looked up at the Duke from his report as he continue, "Can you corroborate this information? I must know if my accounts are still accurate."

The Duke held up a hand before saying his piece, "Well Sir Balthazar, you certainly are well informed, as our reports say similar, though yours holds more detail.", he leaned on the desk to observe the map that Balthazar provided before looking up at the Prince.
"And to answer your questions my Prince, the main areas to keep a watchful eye on, are the sewer drains. As they extend beyond the city walls."
The Duke stood up and crossed his arms. "As for our defences, we have roughly four hundred of our infantry, and there is also the four cannons we recieved from the dwarves. They should be fine for use for now, but we did not have much in terms of ammunition to begin with." The Duke took a deep breath before he continued, his old weary body tiring already, "We would be better prepared, but unfortunately, these last few months have taken a toll. We have troops stationed at a couple of our watch forts further outward, and we think two may have fallen due to the orcs." he said stroking his bearded chin in thought. "We have indeed tried to contact the dwarves via carrier pigeon, but we have yet to recieve a reply. It is possible they themselves could be under threat of attack."
The Duke paused for a moment.
"Do you have any further information regarding this orc warlord you mentioned?" he asked Balthazar with curiosity.

---------

As soon as the bell rang, Rudolph made his way up to the walls, to offer what help he could.

Some rifle fire could be heard, but the majority of missles were from the bows. A few of the goblins in the assault were immediately killed from the first volley, but they were better prepared this time, as most of the arrows that hit, were blocked by their shields. However, the few shots from the rifles amongst them, blew through them with relative ease.

"Keep knocking the bastards down!" yelled Captain Fenne as he walked along the wall observing the attack.
Rudolph managed to get to the top of the wall just in time for the third volley.

The goblins got to a certain point before stopping.
"Bring the cannons 'round!" ordered the captain giving a signal with his hand.
A soldier from amongst the ranged units shouted "Incoming!" as two large boulders were coming their way. "Take cover. Take cover!" ordered the captain before he hid himself behind one of the merlons.
Rudolph himself hid behind one as soon as he saw the incoming projectiles.

With a loud crash, one of the shots hit the side of the wall, causing a minor tremor. The other made a direct hit, killing some of the troop that took shelter.
Rudolph was partially dazed by the impact, but thankfully was not in the impact zone itself. He then quickly gathered himself, "Are you alright Captain!?" he loudly asked as he staggered slightly across the broken wall using his halberd to keep him steady.
There were some soldiers missing, possibly they were knocked off the wall back into the city. Others lay upon the path broken and bloodied.

"Keep firing! Don't give 'em a breather!" yelled Rudolph as he went to investigate the whereabouts of the captain.
He quickly found the man, buried under a mound of rubble. He then removed some of it to check if the man still lived. Captain Fenne seemed mostly dusted by the debris, despite clear minor wounds. Rudolph looked closer and noticed that the back of the mans head had been caved in. Rudolph looked down with eyes closed. Damn them!.

Rudolph stood up and observed his surroundings. The ranged units were still doing their part, and trying their best at keeping the greenskins at bay. The cannoneers were still making their way over as the goblins renewed their assault against the walls.

"Alright then." Rudolph said to himself. "Cannons! Get a move on!" he ordered, and they began hurrying more so with the help from other soldiers currently unoccupied with the defences.
Here we go. he exhaled readying himself for the fight ahead.


[System]
[Character Type]-Circle. You are a jack of all traits/trades. You have both destructive and creative maneuvers.

Data
Appearance:
Nickname/Alias: Songbird, Little Canary

Magic Name: N/A

Occupation: Music/Telekinesis Teacher

Faction: N/A

Seat Number: N/A

Nationality: Japanese

Age: 21
Gender: Female

Blood Type: O Negative

Biography: From the age of thirteen, the little canary lived alone in the confinement of her heart. Abandoned by both a mother and father out of fear of what she held the capability to do, Kotori was left abandoned on the streets of Tokyo. Yet despair did not overtake her; rather, she could a weakened determination to survive.

So she worked long hours at restaurants and cafes, making just enough to get by and into a small apartment on her own. There in her loneliness, her powers slowly grew and manifested in ways she did not expect. Such talent drew the eyes of an Academy that was the first of its kind.

A place of learning and sanctuary for one whose talents were like her own. A place where she could be accepted, instead of shunned.

Beneath the wing of many brilliant instructors and teachers, the shy girl blossomed into a beautiful young woman of remarkable capability. Where despite of how fearful of what others would think, she would act for the greater good. Saving hundreds of lives as a result of her actions. Then, only did she realize that as she grew, so did her powers. As upon the day of her eighteenth birthday, she was classified as a level seven Esper.

All the while this happened of course, she was still ever lonely. Companionship was fleeting and miserably brief. Never once had she made a lasting friend it seemed.

Not until she met the Iron Giant.

Less of a machine and more of a boy whose will seemed made of iron alongside his tall stature. He was not one with powers like the majority of the school. Rather, he was the opposite. And the first normal person in her life that didn't instantly reject her. They met once when she lended him a book, and were good friends for the years following.

In times of great strife, he was the solidity she desperately needed to keep moving forward. As she grew stronger, he was always there with enough kindness and quiet strength so that she wouldn't falter.

As the years passed she slowly realized the truth: she loved him. Though she would never find the courage to tell him. Once he left, once he disappeared, the music she played seemed to hold an irrevocable melancholy. A beautiful sadness that pervades her mind to this very day.

For now she teaches at the very same kind of school where she once was taught. As a remarkably powerful Esper as well as an enlightened music teacher, she gifts her knowledge to future generations happily.

Personality : A far cry from her youthful days of shyness and awkwardness, Kotori has outgrown such and instead attained a grace that is not commonplace. Though quiet outside of instruction of music or her own individual talents, it is not due to fear, rather it is that she intends for what little she has to say to possess impact. Yet outside it all, she holds a deep melancholy that holds a state of permanence. As if the sorrowful music she plays is what speaks from her soul. Yet aside it all, she holds a deep conviction to do good, and bestows kindness upon anyone she meets.

Quirks
Likes: Books, various forms of Music (she prefers classical the most), Occasional sweets, Strawberries, and

Dislikes: Maid Outfits, willful ignorance, country music.

Talents
Skills: Kotori is musically proficient with almost every instrument. But is particularly a mastereo of the Piano. She is a decent cook, and a devout reader of fine literature.

Ability: Level 10 Telekinetic. While she can control an incredible amount of things at one time, from moving hundreds of people at once to moving an entire city block, she can accomplish such with relative ease.

Magic: N/A

Miscs
Theme Song(s): N/A

Extras: She wears a locket with a picture of the Iron Giant inside of it.

[User]
Mika Alkaev - Thunderstruck
After the first question, Mika looked at him long and hard, the remainder of his statement going in one ear and out the other. For a moment, he was like a statue until he saw the man start stomping forward, sparks dancing around him. If there was any doubt about the masked man's identity, it would be long gone. The courier took a cautious step back--No, that was wrong, it looked like a step, it sounded like a step, but the distance he'd moved was definitely not a step.

"Right, right. You want your stuff, I get'cha," He hand his hands up as assurance that he meant no harm. His first mistake - which he would realize once the staticky feeling of the man's gloved hand landed on his shoulder - was taking his eyes off the man to sift through his knapsack. 'Shiiiiiet.' In one action, even the idea of having an idea to get out of a potentially escalating situation had been erased. While he didn't have any intent of leaving a job undone - especially not for this particular employer - the fact he didn't have the option rubbed him the wrong way; the Russian prided himself on his uncanny ability to get the hell out of Dodge, after all.

He made a strange, guttural groan. "Yeah. Makes sense," Mika admitted with a shrug of his free shoulder, "Not like I can disagree. Customer satisfaction guaranteed, and all." The blond dug into his bag and, apparently unaffected by the awkward tenseness of the situation, quickly withdrew the important contents: A bulky envelope, a lead-lined briefcase, and a datapad with stylus. Apparently the COG were very thorough with their documentation for a ragtag gang of gangs.

"Right," Mika began, handing the datapad over first, "Just gotta sign this to make sure everything got through. There's a questionnaire you can fill out for a chance to win some prize-" He stared blankly at the Hand of God. "-But you don't seem like you'll need that. 'Specially with this." He lifted the briefcase - the one filled with the requisite forward payment. "Expensive stuff. If any of the gangs knew about it, I'd've gotten mugged crossing the first street."

Before passing the briefcase off, however, he thrust the envelope into the mercenary's free hand. "...But even with that cash, this is what they wanted me to make sure I didn't lose," he explained, "Told me it's some kind of contract. Nothing more, nothing less. S'not my business anyway."

"Don't wanna know what it is," Mika would comment if the Hand of God read it in its entirety in front of him, "Do you want your receipt?"

[Assistant]
Sasaki Kirima - ?????????

Sasaki stared down at the message on his D-Watch, his mouth a hard line and his brow more furrowed than the Grand freakin' Canyon. It didn't take a genius to know something was up, especially with that terribly unsubtle message from Pride himself. For the first time in a very long time, he felt fear. Not worry, but that all consuming dread that something was about to go horrifically, unstoppably awry. Slowly, he attempted to unlatch the watch before fumbling and tearing it off out of frustration. 'Don't worry,' Sasaki thought, peering over his left shoulder, then his right, 'This is one of those 'social experiments' from Showtube that I'm always hearing about, right? Where are the cameras?'

The giant shook his head. He was being absurd. With Aria around, he was sure that Pride wouldn't do anything too rash because doing so would be detrimental to his image. As much as he liked to tease him, Sasaki knew that Pride had exactly that: pride. Anything that would mar it was to be avoided. Which meant… Whatever was going to happen, was something that only he would know was very, very wrong.

....Which somehow more frightening than anything he'd thought of before.

'Argh. I can't understand that man,' he rubbed the back of his head frustratedly, 'As long as he didn't go through all my files or something...' There was no sense in worrying, his mind told him; and yet his heart told him there was all the sense in worrying. He began counting numbers down in his head to calm his nerves. And for a moment, all was calm.

And then someone someone said his name loudly, and with purpose.

There was a distinct choking noise as Sasaki used every screaming fibre of his being to remain still. To not lash out violently, as much as his knee-jerk reaction wanted him to throw fists. Raising a twelve year-old with superspeed for six years did wonders for his self-discipline, far more than any of Seneca's other attempts had. But even so...

'Oh lord that was embarrassing,' he thought with a sharp inhalation, and an inward cringe. Half of him wanted to pretend the person wasn't there, but the other half knew better. Not just from the perspective of someone who wanted to be polite, but also from his own personal experience. This voice, soft in sound but firm in bearing, was unmistakably hers.

Immediately, he understood what Pride had meant, immediately he had agreed with him, and immediately, he had become about 10000x more suspicious of this situation. What was the twist?

"Yes… It has been a long time… yes," Sasaki's voice was slow and measured to catch speech errors, rather than resolute and rehearsed like Kotori's. He still felt as if he was speaking like a goddamn nerd. When had he become so awkward? He spoken with many people in the past, so this shouldn't be of great difficulty. His face blanched the moment she mentioned a 'peculiar message'. 'Oh fuck.' Adam didn't do something weird in his name, did he? He'd heard all the man's shitty pick up lines from his wife. God of Science he may have been, but he was no God of Seduction, that was for sure. Sasaki narrowed his eyes slightly, still doing his best to awkwardly avoid the gaze of the woman standing beside him. He put his hands in his pockets to avoid fidgeting. "Was this message… Was it from-"

Fortunately, his question was answered before he could complete that sentence. Though it was not an answer he was pleased with, but it was an answer that brought relief to his heart. "I... " For the first, he was at a loss for how to explain something. "Erm. Yes. In a way," he fumbled with his words in his own stoic way before he was saved by the arrival of the blonde herself. "As you can see, that was definitely bad intel," he nodded, still trying to avert the songbird's gaze while casting curious glances of his own. He scratched the side of his jaw.

"She's in your class I take it?" he asked Kotori. He was aware that the songbird was an ENMA professor, and that Aria Fabre was an ENMA prospect, but he hadn't known if there'd been any acquaintanceship made between them. Then, a thought occurred to the iron giant. "It's not what it looks like. I'm picking her up and escorting her around town for a coworker. We're supposed to meet up with someone else later today, but otherwise… No hostage situations, mm..."

Yep. Best to be frank and cut off any potentially volatile, rom-com-esque situations off at the bud.

"Do you happen to be busy today, Namashiya-chan?"

[User]
Prof. Namashiya Kotori - Bad Intelligence, Bad!

First, before anything else, Aria came bounding up to both Kotori and Sasaki alike, clearly implicating that the kidnapping was a ruse. Even Aria herself had stated that she would have been more able in defending herself. To which Kotori silently nodded, and reverted her gaze back to the one man she truly cherished in secret: Kirima Sasaki.

Naturally when he spoke, she inwardly clung on to almost every variable possible. It had been so long since she had actually heard his voice. It had been years since the last, and since then she had heard his voice only through garbled communications. It was never the same, but by the Gods, she loved to hear it. The pace, the baritone essence of it, though she would never remotely chance showing it, the Songbird was temporarily in a state of complete bliss.

Showing it as a whole might put Aria, or even worse, Sasaki in danger. Especially since the latter had no powers.

Even as he fumbled a word or two, the final he poised made her quickly come to terms with how incredible this chance was! He asked if she was busy! Wait, of course she was busy; always at work on new subatomic energy theories and equations. Though she wasn't certain, she had the feeling that she was on the cusp of a major breakthrough! Shaking her head, Kotori gave Sasaki her response as she did such. She had to take advantage of this chance.

She had to. Sometimes world-changing Science could wait for a young woman's dream.

"Well, now that this little disaster is figured out, I'm afraid that my afternoon is quite open." The Songbird quipped, with a hint of humor in her voice. "So...I guess you could say I'm free." Hesitantly, she shifted just enough where she stood by his side, only to catch a glimpse of his hand.

Oh! How desperately she wished to hold it. Yet instead of just reaching out and seizing it, the telekinetic fell into an easy, graceful stride beside the Giant as they quickly left and headed in whichever direction he would lead them. As they walked however, as her hand swayed easily in a nonchalant cadence, her head bowed lightly.

Biting her lip for a split second, she decided that at long last, she was going to do something she had wished for a long, long time. Subtly as they walked, her hand gently caught up with his. Carefully, her slender pianist's fingertips intertwined betwixt his digits, and held snugly to boot. His hand was large, rough, and calloused. The hands of a man who worked and toiled endlessly, and the softness of her pale touch contrasted so starkly.

Once she held fast, she was sure Iron Giant would look in her direction once again. This time however, he'd not see what the international community had come to expect. With her head head bowed, the rosy hue that now rested on her cheekbones. In all the news, in all the propaganda, she seemed strong, resilient, and aloof. But here, as she held tightly onto his hand, the first time since she had rescued those people from the stadium as a level four.

"Where are we headed?" she inquired lightly, curious as ever to see just how this day was destined to go.


[System]
Race: Human

Age: 21

Gender: Male

Appearance: Rowan is a tall man with a average frame and a muscular build. He has one icey blue eyes as well as upper-back length, black, messy hair. He's a pale-skin with a deep tan and scars covering his torso and arms. The strangest thing about his appearance is the birthmark on his forehead which resembles a third eye, one which becomes more prominent when he is more enraged. The last notable piece to his appearance is a brand on his upper right arm which resembles a jagged swirl.

Clothing/Armor: He wears red, tattered pants, a leather belt, a red, tattered shirt, leather boots and a black, tattered cloak. Over his clothes, he wears thin armor over his feet, shins and knees as well as bracers and a light chainmail. Around his neck he wears a circular locket with an ornate celtic design, inside of which is a picture of him as a child and a girl with their names, Siegfried and Brynhildr, scratched into the inside opposite the picture.

Weapons: Rowan wields a long broadsword with nothing special about it other than its extended handle, allowing him to switch from single hand and two hand wielding styles, which he keeps sheathed on the side of his backpack. His only other weapon is some sort of eastern dagger (similar to a scimitar) that he keeps sheathed at his left hip.

Alignment: NG

Skills/Abilities: He's proficient with longswords and bigger blades but has trouble with new weapons at first. He learns quickly how to use weapons. Very proficient at hunting and fishing as well as other survival skills. He knows how to work a forge well as he repairs his broken weapons and tries to keep the others from breaking.

Magic: The branding on his arm magically calls monsters and demons to him. Because of the dragon blood in him,

Backstory: He doesn't know much about his history other than the fact he's always fought monsters, his name and the girl. However, this is only a small part of the man.

When he was young, Siegfried spent much of his time running around the little northern village he'd grown up in with his best friend, Brynhildr. Other children would pick on him because he was smaller than them. Because of Brynhildr, he became braver, stronger and bigger. When he became of age, his village was attacked by a dragon, Fafnir, which he battled and defeated, accidentally swallowing a bit of the beast's blood and covering his wounds. Since then, he's been wandering, fighting, surviving, honing his skills and defending the weak.

[User]
Orchid moved up the mountain hidden by green and foliage. Fortunately for her their previous guest had taken the dirt path, making their trail simply to follow. Four heavy set humans and two demons, likely lesser demons if they could not take on a human form. The demons took point but Orchid noticed that their marching order was.... Disciplined? Orderly? They were marching not as a random group, but as if they were a disciplined unit. Which was strange because Orchid has never heard of military disciplined demons. Perhaps it was just the humans?

But Orchid soon figured out the reason behind the strange marching when she spotted the demons and the four humans. They appeared to be mercenaries: they wore a coat of chain with steel helmets, armed with shields, swords, and crossbows. Two had long spears. The demons themselves were fairly large demons with clawed hands and talons on their feet. They had bright red skin with patches of scars adorning their body. They seemed to be speaking about the cave ahead, which confirmed another thing: They had just pasted the first cave. They seemed to intend to skip this cave and move onto the second one which is when Orchid knew she had to strike.

From the cover of the forest Orchid let loose two arrows, both which pierced the chain links and landed inside the neck of one of the mercenaries. But instead of dying like any normal human would, he turned to face the direction where the arrows were released. Then Orchid had a good look at his eyes and cursed. "Damn. He's enthralled." Orchid had faced enthralled foes before, and their difficulty didn't just come from being under the control of a spell caster. Enthralled foes were essentially zombies: they felt no pain, no fear, and could even survive normally lethal blows (Like two arrows in the neck). Only after doing enough damage to them would the spell be dropped, though it'll be easier to just attack the spellcaster. Orchid released two arrows at the closest demons, but thanks to her opening volley the mercenaries raised their shields in the defense of the demons, blocking her arrows. Then the two demons casted some sort of spell that turned them invisible. When they vanished the four enthralled mercenaries moved onto Orchid's position. Fortunately she could move through the forest faster than they could, so she intended to avoid them and try to chance down the demons. Knowing that they weren't going into this cave Orchid could continue to work her way up and intercept them at the second cave. She'd stay and fight the mercenaries, but time was of the essence.

[Assistant]
"Engaged in combat? This is not according to plan!"

Grhesus almost yelled at a minor demon who, although being weak in almost every way, was proficient enough in portals and observation.

"He's become far too bold. He said himself the group was a threat, yet he engages them in combat. Prepare Craxis and send him to the town immediately. The Lord Marshall's dead, Zargon should be back, not engaging a group with such diverse a crew!"

He almost collapsed into his demonic chair, wondering what impulse prompted Zargon to attack. It no longer mattered; he had to deal with the situation appropriately. The minor demon was still there.

"Go, dammit!"

The demon almost tripped in leaving the room, vanishing out the door. Grhesus signalled to a knight standing at attention.

"Find Artholath. I sent for him over an hour ago."

The knight nodded wordlessly and walked out.

---

Zargon found himself pressed on all sides, even as he felt his sword in his hand. Immediately, he felt sharp tearing sensations that went at a deeper than physical level.

What is this?! Do I face an angel? Zargon was being wounded, more than he had expected. More than he should have been.

He kept low to the ground, attempting to maneuver by the Lord Marshall's body, while swiping upwards to keep his foes back. He almost sent a mental signal for assistance, but opted against it. I am Zargon... you fools will not endure... He began shifting while moving into his demonic form, a form which would prove much more effective in combat - if he endured long enough.

---

Artholath gazed at the bleak, empty desert of grey sand ahead of him. The Border. His research in Zargon's library indicated that it was the place between the Abyss and Hell proper. It was the only place he could expect to have this meeting.

"You wished to meet with me... I am here, but not for long."

Artholath turned around and saw only a shifting mass. Not physical... but not insubstantial. A humanoid figure was in the middle, obscured by dark energy flowing around it and the dark blue "sky" that the border realm seemed to have.

"Indeed I did. I will get to the point, if your time is short. I would like to align with you... rid myself from the faltering shadow of a demon whom's time is past."

A rasp that was probably supposed to be a chuckle came from the figure before him. "You must be meaning Zargon... indeed, his time is coming. If not very soon, then by the powers that move against him. Why should I bring you in?"

Artholath considered the question for a moment.

"I believe we have things to discuss. Things to learn from each other. Things to offer..."

"Very well... walk with me..."

Artholath followed the figure as it turned and walked along the vast, grey desert...

[User]
"Have all civilians been evacuated?" asked Ioannes, looking around himself.

"Yes, sir," said one of the guardsmen Ionathan had sent to help him.

"Good," continued the Mamluke, "you guys stay and guard the people, I'm going to try and help the others," not friends, just cautious allies, "fight the demon." And with that, Ioannes ran off to where Zargon was transforming into his true form. Now, he had several options - should he use his sword, his crossbow, or his guns which yet have to be refilled with ammo?

Hmm, his sword, then; his crossbow was too weak.

And with that, Ioannes ran for the demon's sides, hoping to join The Red and the others in hacking it down before it can finish changing...

Harbinger of Ferocity, @Jon Y, @The Fated Fallen, @IcePezz, @ArenaSnow.

[Assistant] Siegfried watched the halfling head towards the inn after the dwarf with a sigh. He followed after them, only to hear a demon's shriek once he was close. "Damn!" He cursed under his breath as his eyes gleamed red. As he was about to turn to head for the unholy beast, he saw most of the group headed to fight it off. The halfling, he noticed had taken a ride on a half-orc's shoulder to throw her knives. Following behind them, he saw the dwarf and his companion. He looked towards the demon and sighed. "Too many fending off the monster already." He said to himself, following after the dwarf. He felt the burn of the curse mark on his shoulder and smiled. He knew the demon would be compelled to follow the feeling. He had just hoped the demon would choose to do so before the entire town was leveled. Somehow, while running for the mountain, he had passed the dwarf and elf. He arrived at the first cave to see the halfling meditating. "First one here? Let me guess, you hitched a ride. Nobody with legs as small as yours can run faster than me." He reached to tap her head, hoping she hadn't heard him in her meditative state, only for his hand to pass through her. "Displacement. Little trickster, aren't you? Useful." Looking around, he noticed a myriad of tracks, both of clawed feet and the footsteps of men. With a sniff, he barely recognized the scent of the half-Orc that had passed him. "Please tell me she's not alone." He sighed. He took one last look at the halfling before beginning to follow the tracks, making deep gashes in the trees he passed so others would be able to follow easily. After following the tracks for a while, he felt the curse mark begin burning again. "They're near." He said to himself, holding his sword up as he began running. He stood, half-hidden by one of the trees, seeing 2 arrows sticking from one of the men's necks. He felt the curse mark burning strong but ignored it to focus on the area, listening. Unable to find the scent of the half-Orc, he smirked and raised his sword. "She's good." He said to himself before rushing in, swinging his sword to cleave one of the demons' heads off.

[User] Regina stood as she finished her meditation. She looked into the trees just in time to see Siegfried following the tracks, leaving gashes in the trees he passed. She looked back in the direction they had come from, not yet seeing anyone else. With a sigh, she pulled out her daggers and began following Siegfried. She watched him silently, not knowing if he noticed her following him or not. When he rushed into battle, Regina climbed a tree, using it as a hiding spot from behind the demons. Apparently they were guarding themselves from where the half-orc was, or at least had been. She reached in her pack to pull out a handful of her throwing knives before throwing them with precision at the back of the head of the demon Siegfried was not trying to decapitate. She kept her ears open, hoping Orchid would figure out where the throwing knives were coming from.

[Assistant]
One demon stumbled back, his invisibility broken. The other, where ever it went, wasn't here any longer. Regina's daggers would hit nothing but air but at least one demons was still standing. "Gaaaah! Foolish mortals! Attack!" The four thralls went after the nearest opponent which was Siegfried. Despite being mind controlled, they still had some form of sentience that allowed them to remember their training from their past life, fighting tactically. Two with shields put themselves between Sigfried and the demon, trying to trap his blade against their shields. The two other took out their long spears and tried to stab Sigfried from a distance. They were purposely cutting Siegfried off from the demon so he couldn't simply ignore them and go straight for the demon.

Orchid wanted to chase down the other demon, but frankly she couldn't see invisibility and she didn't intend to leave Siegfried to the enthralled warriors, even if she doesn't know who he is. However she couldn't spare her attention away from the demon either; if they could kill him, that should end the spell casted on one of the mercs. Suddenly, two knives flew out from the forest, narrowly hitting a demon, though one did graze him. "Must be the kid! Alright, then we can work together taking out the demon!" The demon tried to make a run for it, and Orchid followed under the cover of the forest. Before he could get far Orchid took some shots trying to intercept him, however she shot too early and ended up hitting the ground in front of the demon. Fortunately it did make the demon stop, allowing someone else to try to take him on.

@KazeXDZ

[User] Siegfried roared in annoyance as the spears stabbed him repeatedly. He was letting himself get angry. With a burst of energy, Siegfried grabbed the spears, using them to push the spearman on their back before breaking the weapons. He then grabbed the shields and pulled them apart, throwing e men into the trees. With his path open again, he ran fast, drawing his sword as he leapt into the air, aiming to stab through its back and chest. His eyes glowed red, allowing him to see though the deception of the invisibility. With one demon pinned by his sword, he pointed at the other. "You can't run forever!" He roared, ripping his blade through his first victim's chest as he went to chase the other. He knew the halfling would be able to take care of it now. "With me!" He called over his shoulder towards Orchid, motioning with his empty hand for her to follow. "Regina, this one's yours!"


[System]
Nickname: Put (pronounced putt, as in golf putt), callsign Titch
Age: 31
Gender: Male
Social Status: Spacenoid
Rank: E-5 / Petty Officer Second Class (PO2)
Appearance:
Putnam is a 5'11" broad-shouldered Spacer, reasonably built but focused more on tone rather than mass in the muscles, which are more built along the core, upper body, and legs. His hair is a darker sandy blonde, matched with two pale blue eyes and a wide jaw line. His hair is styled short and well in regulation, matched with a patch of stubble of varying length. His nose is slightly crooked, with signs of former blunt force trauma, and a tattoo of the Earth Federation star in black on the upper left of his back.
Mobile Suit: Formerly a Jegan-D, but now retrained on a RGM-96X Jesta in order to keep up with high performance and waverider MS.
Positive Personality traits:
* Mellow
* Honest
* Reliable
* Dutiful
* Trusting

Negative Personality traits:
* Sarcastic
* Vulgar
* Tactless
* Predictable
* Impatient

Biography:
Putnam was born in 0068 on the colony Nassau, part of Side 4. A victim of the Thunderbolt Sector, Putnam (then 11 years old) and his family were evacuated with the rest of Nassau during the One Week Battle, then resettled on Side 1. The evacuation and destruction of Nassau followed by the enlistment and even conscription of older members of his community (leading to the death of most during the battles for the Thunderbolt Sector) left a major mark on Putnam's psyche, leading him to himself enlist in 0086, being trained as a mobile suit pilot in the EFSF.

Piloting a GM III throughout the First Neo Zeon war, his service record was largely without distinction, credited with three kills and seven assists throughout his deployment. Assigned thereafter to the Alexandria-class cruiser Actium, Putnam flew peacetime sorties with the 88th Fleet. During the Second Neo Zeon War, Putnam was scrambled along with the rest of the 88th to assist Londo Bell at the Battle of Axis. During the fighting, he earned ace-in-a-day status, downing five suits and getting credited for nine assists.

Thereafter he remained with the 88th Fleet, upgrading to a Jegan and performing sorties against Sleeves hit-and-run attacks, notably being assigned to maintain the quarantine of Industrial 7 during the Third Neo Zeon war, although seeing no actual combat. In the aftermath of the Laplace Incident, he and most other present pilots were grounded and rigorously evaluated, relegated to garrison duties in the meantime. During his evaluation period, Putnam was handpicked by the special operations unit Anthem.

[User]
The infinite black void of space stretching out. The utter weightlessness. Despite the fact that he was hurtling through space at thousands of miles per hour, he was, nonetheless... Still. Floating here... Even though he knew that, no matter where he went, Earths Gravity acted on him, he still felt free of it. He looked around. "Munch, get back to work!" He heard through his suits comms as he turned back to his job, running his painting strip along the large letters that was Shadowfax's nameplate. As he continued to buff up the plate, he began to feel a little less easy with the situation. Suddenly, he got another message through the channel. "Munch, get to your Mobile Suit. We've got movement." As he turned to go inside, he could have swore he saw a flash out the corner of his eye.

Making his way through the ship, he quickly got to the changing room to change from a Normal Suit into a Flight Suit, far less bulky, but offered less protection against space debris. Finally, he made his way to the launch pad, looking at the suits stomping around was always a surreal moment, as the hangar was depreassurized. As he stood, he could feel the rumbling rythmically pulsating through the superstructure with every step the metal gods before him made their way to the catapult. But, he couldn't hear them. He could only hear the people cattering through the comms to each other. He then spotted it at the back of the room. His Dijeh. Created by Karaba in their war with the Federation, they had been refitted for use in Space during the Laplus incident, when the Federation needed every suit they had to get into space and find the box. Now, it was just used for patrolling. He did take comfort in the fact that the mobile suits chief test-pilot and designer was the great Amuro Ray. As he booted up the cockpit, he got a good view of everything around him, just in time to see Dren board the Catapult and get launched into space. He pressed his foot into the peddle, bringing the mighty foot forward and the other followed soon after. Stepping onto the catapult, he pressed his comm. "Gregory Munchhausen, Ready for Sortie." He said, before the suit was launched into the black void. Following after the others, just in time for them to see all hell breaking loose around them. He listened to the orders being handed down.

"Gelgoogs, what the hell do they think those Antique's are going to do?" He laughed. He was in the equivalent question of "What if Amuro had designed the Gelgoog" There was no way he was about to lose to them. "Roger, Youngster, moving to engage." He registered. As the agile Dijeh launched towards the interlopers, it's own Mono-eye glowing a bright emerald. Getting close, he saw the Vulcan rounds hit and bounce off of one of the Gelgoogs, wildly richochetting. "Oh, Armour improvements." He said, before the Beam-Rifle folded up it's it's holding position on the shoulder and he drew the Naginata, igniting both ends, he brought it for a slash, but the Marine was was also quick with it's own, igniting it and parrying, before forcing Greg into taking a few carefully planned thrusts backwards with the engines. "Oh, some improvements?" He asked, before forcing himself fowards, slashing a few more times, again, opening with the Vulcans to try and force him to protect that sensitive eye on his head.

[Assistant]
Despite Carter and Munch's objections that they were outdated technology, the Gelgoog's weapons-fire wasn't listening, and it struck home on the targets shot at. The bullets, rockets and beams didn't seem to care how outdated they were or not, and the damage they caused was unfortunately very up to date as infrastructure and ships took hits.
 Fortunately, the Anthem mobile suit team were more-than up to the task of fighting back, and that's where their edge in technology counted. The Gelgoog pilots were good, not at all amateurs, and despite the age of their mobile suits they were wringing the best out of them and piloting them as competitively as possible - a good pilot in an old suit wasn't one to be taken lightly, and the Sleeves and their allies in the Zeon remnants had proved that short years ago. Plus it was a point; if they'd survive as long as they had, they had to be good in the first place.
 Nonetheless, matched up against suits that were a grab-bag of advanced technologies, they were in for a struggle.
 Carter's missile attack did the job of breaking up the formation of green-and-grey enemy machines. They - wisely - split up at the barrage of incoming missiles, but the assault was enough to wing one and outright kill a second, the Zeon-built suit exploding into a sphere of short-lived flame and trailing debris. The one winged lost a right arm, spinning in AMBAC motions to regain orientation and counter the impact - which made it a target for the mounted gun on the Re-Gz. It exploded in a violent, albeit short-lived, fireball, limbs spiralling off on their own trajectories.

Meanwhile, as the rest had scattered, they had been engaged by the rest of the unit. One singled in toward Putnam and his Jesta, opening fire as it powered toward him. The shots fired missed, but the counter-fire of missiles caught the Zeon pilot off guard. They spiralled to avoid the incoming fire, one missile catching the Gelgoog Marine's beam rifle and destroying it in a purplish explosion. The green-and-grey adversary managed to shoot down the second missile with a burst of fire from forearm machine-guns, somersaulting past the projectile as they did so, and then boosting into close range combat with a beam saber drawn, and knuckle-shield over the left forearm. It swung the saber in a vicious slice as it closed in range with the dark-coloured mobile suit, mono-eye glowing a threatening red.

Munch and his Dijeh had intercepted the most forward-running of the Gelgoogs. As his opponent fell back to avoid the melee, the Dijeh's vulcan blast played across the mobile suits' neck and lower head. The hose-like cables at the base of the Gelgoog's head were torn apart, and the mono-eye visor shattered, the special-operations mobile suit flipping end over end as the pilot tried to get a better picture of their surroundings from what little back-up sensors the Zeon suit had, leaving it vulnerable and open to attack.

Callie had not sat idle either. As soon as she'd given the attack order, she'd joined her team-mates in the charge. The S-Gundam's mighty thrusters blasting it toward the closing enemy suits. As they'd scattered to evade Carter's missile barrage, she had unlimbered the S-Gundam's beam smart-gun. As her fellow pilots closed in or opened fire respectively, she identified her own target, zeroing in through visual sensors and the radome mounted on the gun and let rip with a blast, even as the Gelgoog Marine she'd targeted unleashed a barrage of machine-gun fire toward her. Flipping and spiralling aside, she dodged or evaded the majority of the burst, as her own attack tore the Gelgoogs' left arm from its' torso, leaving molten alloy in its' wake. The pilot was a bold and brave, as well as skilled one, changing course with a series of impressive boosted manoeuvers to make his course random. He attempted to weave and bob, unleashing another blast at Callie from the machine gun from a relative upside down position, which she countered by taking some of the hits before flaring backward in space, and using the backpack-mounted beam cannons to blast the unfortunate Gelgoog to pieces.

The surviving Gelgoog had managed to get closer to the docking bay entrance, using cover from the destroyed ships and darting and lurking among civilian shipping as shields. The Ceres defensive GM-II's opened fire as it darted in, but were picked off with precise, rapid beam rifle fire, and the Gelgoog raced into the bay.
The S-Gundam turned to follow, and Callie's radio came to life with a laser transmission in the same instant.
"Captain Suthorn, the Ceres defensive militia are calling for reinforcements. The habitat inside the asteroid has been engulfed in fighting as well. This attack looks like it was a feint to draw attention and create chaos, while the real target slipped away. Nonetheless, there's fighting inside the asteroid as well, with more former Zeon mobile suits that had been hidden or smuggled aboard. You and your team are requested to enter the habitat and destroy them"
"Roger, will engage as ordered, sir".
Cursing softly, she turned her attention to the rest of her unit, engaged in battle or on the field. Youngster and Titch were still engaged, Mad Dog was doing just fine (not that she'd expected any less), and she hadn't heard from Hepner since they launched.
"Mad Dog," she called over the radio, getting a good contact with the Re-Gz Custom, "No surprise you're doing fine; good shooting. Looks like there's more trouble inside Ceres. Let's support Youngster and Titch, and then sweep into the habitat to assist, over!"

[User] "Fine I'm swapping to mobile suit form. I'll cover what I can but I prefer point." Carter said as he watched the Zekes die just as they had by the dozens in the previous wars. They picked poor suits for the wrong situations a dozen gaza C's could barely hold their own against a competent squad let alone a gundam. As the units pushed inward Carter's Re-GZ Custom swapped out of its waver rider form as Carter felt the machine respond, and push forward he made sure the people he was covering were into the next zone of combat before turning backward, and making sure no one tried to get a sneaky shot back in onto the group. He held his beam assault rifle ready to unleash it on any unexpected enemies. "I don't understand these pirates...what's the point? I don't see any real reason to kill these people." complained Carter as he turned around once he was sure the machines weren't going to ambush them. "Even the fucking dumb ass Zeons who still think their cause has a point need to understand they're throwing their lives away at this point."

[Assistant]
Putnam blasted forward as his saw a missile connect, searching hard for a confirmed kill as his infrared sensors overloaded. A mono-eye beaming through the carnage put his hopes to rest as it closed, pulling forth a beam saber. Backing off with a jet of blinding blue, he jerked the stick left, his other hand mashing the ejector on the beam saber stored in the Jesta's left forearm.

"I'm in close!" He called over net.

Grasping at the saber with the suit's right hand, he swerved his shield around via the manipulator on his pack, glancing off the Gelgoog's initial blow at the cost of the lower tip of his shield, which was reduced to cherry red slag. It did, however, give him an opening, with Putnam bringing down his own ignited saber diagonally towards the Gelgoog's unguarded left pauldron.


[System]
Age: Hasn't kept track

Height: 6'7

Weight: Roughly 300-350lbs

Race: Vampire

Gender: Male

Appearance:

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Personality:
Tristan comes from a time where might makes right, and he has a lot of might to throw around. The vampire is very set in his ways, only adapting what he felt was needed in as the ages marched on. Aside from times barely affecting those mannerisms he's a very blunt individual. Choosing the short and to the point over the long and flowery. His mind is far to brutal for honor, making others wary around him and his violent nature. All of this is hidden behind a calm facade he has constructed to help protect himself and his interests.

Biography:
Tristan chooses not to remember much of his past. Only the parts that defined who he is and how he acts. He can't quite place when he came from, just that weapons, armor, and dwellings were very crude. As time progressed things became more civilized and he barely changed along with it, staying a barbarian. Even in the current day his more primal urges lurk just beneath the surface that rarely gets indulged thanks to that damned Covenant. He hates it but he's just one of many vampires completely outnumbered by those willing to uphold it. So he bides his time, interacting with those who could possibly change things. Either strong-arming them or destroying them outright to get things to go back to when they were. When humans were free to kill and violence reigned.

Faction/Side: Sides with his own kind.

Abilities:* Shadow Mold: Being a vampire means darkness is your ally and he uses it more effectively than most. He seemingly vanishes in a cloud of black smoke between shadows. He pretty much teleports roughly five to ten feet through shadows so long as he is touching one. It's exceptionally draining if he does this numerous times in quick succession.
* Shaded Regeneration: His healing factor is higher than most vampires. Limbs blown off seem to mold from the shadows where his limb used to be until fully healed. This takes from mere moments to half an hour depending on how severe the damage is to the stump.
* Overdrive: Assuming he's backed into a corner this kicks up. His physical capabilities double for a short while. After it's done he's left helpless, nearly drained of all energy for who knows how long.

Skills:* Blademaster: He's been using blades of various styles for decades upon decades. They hold no more secrets from him and are his preferred weapon. From the lowly knife to the mighty zweiheinder he's used and mastered them all.
* Dead-eye: He has excellent hand-eye coordination, allowing him to throw and hit his target. Or shoot whatever it is he's aiming at. He prefers more ancient weaponry such as throwing knives/axes and bows/crossbows.
* Expert Rider: He's been riding and taming animals for a very, very, long time. If it can be saddled he can ride it without difficulties. His preferred mode of transportation honestly.

Strengths:* Vampiric Physique: He has the typical vampire gauntlet of physical capabilities. Enhanced strength, speed, and endurance. His strength and endurance however are higher than most since he has been constantly training himself and getting wounded.
* CQC: He's an expert at CQC, preferring to stay in close and dominate his opponents with strength and skill.
* Lucky: It's less of a strength and more of sheer luck. He has stupid amounts of luck on his side. Maybe Lady Luck likes him.

Weaknesses:* Typical Vampire: He's not a particularly large fan of the sun, it starts to burn after a little while. Holy emblems wielded by true believers give him pause, not just the christian cross. He's exceptionally combustible. Lastly is silver content causes lasting damage.
* Attractive Women: He's a sucker for a beautiful woman. He has few problems being led around by them until he gets stabbed in the back. Literally.
* Violent: He's exceptionally violent, especially towards other males. He's still stuck in the mental age where you beat the tar out of other men to take or attract a mate.

Likes:* Weapon upkeep, it's sort of like therapy for him.
* Combat, a good romp and slaughter is always fun. Especially if the soon to be dead fight back.
* Darkness, it's his preferred element. Staying in the shadows of night where it's all calm and cool.

Dislikes:* His clothes being ruined, it's all leather and difficult to repair.
* Tarnish or rust building up on any form of weaponry.
* Sunlight, aside from it harming vampires he hates its warmth and energetic time.

Other: He has a stable full of various breeds of horses he enjoys taking care of and riding around.

[User]
Tristan gave the barest shrug of his shoulders. "You're a boy, a child, to me. It'll be the most civilized insult you'll get." He stated as his eyes started to brighten from their normal dull sheen. He took note of the sudden change in color of the other mans eyes, which got Tristan's lips to quirk up slightly. "Lycan...and Vampire? Normally those end up twisted creatures that rarely survive their first months never mind years." He said as he finally turned fully to Vladimir.

"I personally don't want to shed your blood unless it's just a fun fight. But you're siding with the humans against your own kind. Even if you are a half-blood." He growled as another flick landed second blade in his free hand. This one was just as dull colored as the first but had three times the length with a wicked looking serrated edge. "I very rarely give a second warning. Leave." He growled while slowly crouching down into a readied stance. The swords gave off a soft shine, the weapons clearly iron and well taken care of.

[Assistant]
Hank Miller

A figure wearing a heavy trench coat, body armor, and a military grade gas mask walked into the Abandoned warehouse. People have been going missing from the local town for weeks now. Hank figured it was a vampire trying to find a steady blood supply, or a human who was trying to become a vampire with out the help of a vampire. It has happened before, and he wasn't too pleased to have to fix that too. In his right hand he had his machete drawn. It's three foot reinforced blade, sharp enough to cut off fingers just from tapping it too hard. It was great for dealing with anything that tried to get close. He had other odds and ends, the most notable being the sawed off shotgun, the fold away hatchet, and his revolver loaded with silver coated hollow point rounds. He had a flame thrower a few weeks back, but after it was struck in combat he learned that a fire resistant coat only does so much. The gas mask is more for show now, he used to use some chemical weapons but that caused just as many issues as it helped.

Inside the warehouse it was mostly empty, a few crates here and there, some shelves, the one office like room on the other end. And the rafters above. He had learned that fresh new-bloods tended to stay in places like the office, ones that have been around for a bit tended to hide in the rafter, knowing that humans have a lot more trouble getting up there, then back down. "I know you're in here. You know I am here. So this can go one of two ways, we duke this out now or you wait until the covenant deal with you." He kept his eyes out, still unsure of what to make of his current target. "Go away, or I will kill you too!" Male voice, scared, he knew what Hank was. A hunter, a human who has devoted his life to killing the monsters of the world. Even new-bloods could smell the aged blood on his blade, even if it had been cleaned repetitively.

Hank didn't respond to the threats he was receiving. This was a new-blood, they were ignorant, they thought they were all powerful, they didn't understand how things worked. Anyone that knew what to look for could tell that Hank's walking was different then a lot of people. He commonly took side steps to through off anything with speed abilities, he constantly turned directions, He would casually swing his blade to keep anyone who may be messing with his vision away from him, he made sure everything he needed was in arms rea-- "BOOM!" Hank was sent flying onto the ground. "Dammit..." He gasped as he tried to get up. He came tot he conclusion that he had been shot with something big. Not a rifle, that would have cut through his armor easily. Shotgun maybe? Loaded with bird shot it might have still been stopped by his vest. "HA! Bitch! How does it feel to get a taste of your own medicine?!" his foe shouted with a voice of confidence.

He could see his target now, young, even by human standards. And in his hands a single shot shotgun. Looks like it wasn't reloaded yet. Teenagers, out of most of the new-bloods he had faced they tended to go that way more often then not. He felt bad for what had happened to him, Hank figured that it was some kind of power play from another vampire, or maybe just wrong place wrong time. Either way, he was a threat.

The vampire was on top of him now, reloading the gun. His vest was cracked, maybe some of his ribs too. He wouldn't be able to get that lucky again if he was shot again. Hank swung his blade removing both feet of the new blood, by this time though he had reloaded. Hank had time to get up now though, and that was all he needed to get the job done. "Mother f-" His voice was cut off as Hank grabbed the gun, pointing it away from him using his free hand, then bringing the blade down on one of the new-blood's arms. The gun was useless to him now, and with out legs he was just another target. He tried frantically to beg for his life, Hank at this point had gotten used to drowning out the pleas for help and mercy. He did his best to make the cut as clean as possible, removing the head, then landing his blade into the skull again.

Nothing moved for what seemed like hours to Hank. His job was done, until he heard noises coming from the office. Another one he thought. His body was in a lot of pain now though, he didn't have much left in him. So he grabbed his shotgun, still leaving the machete in one hand, then walked to the office. Inside he didn't see anything yet, just some old cabinets, a couple desks, and a sleeping bag. He could hear the whimpering though, something small maybe. Hank made it over to one of the desks, underneath it he saw the source of the noise.

Underneath was a small child, who looked a lot like the vampire he had just killed, only a lot younger, and he was human. Not a food bag either, just living with his family. "God dammit." Hank mumbled. The child started to cry as he got a look of Hank, covered in blood, trench coat and gas mask, and no signs of his family member.

Hank left the child, crying out of fear and what was happening. Hank only stopped once he was outside to grab his phone. He called the police on a prepaid phone to tell them he had heard gunshots from the warehouse outside of town. After he made the call he hung up and split the phone in half, pocketing both halves until he was miles away from the warehouse, then he tossed both bits into the woods by the road. Hank hated his job, but he knew someone had to do it, and there was only so much people like the covenant could do. So Hank did his job, and he moved on. Heading back to his RV to find his next job.

There was a lot of chatter on covenant frequencies. He had still no luck on breaking them, so all he could do was pay attention to the news, old military intelligence, and police channels until he got something he could use. Maybe he'd find a doctor for his ribs too, or just see if he could pull together a new vest he could use for his next job. Ribs healed, dead people didn't.

[User]
Vladimir gave a soft chuckle. Child and boy simply were not insults to him. Never were and they never would be. "Clearly in special. Considering it's been centuries." Ah that got the guy to turn toward him. Lovely.

Vlad's posture was clearly of one not remotely threatened by the man in front of him. A brow raised. "I have never been your kind vampyre. I am both and yet neither. As for the humans....you are dragging off my coworkers and that just happens to bother me" He knew the blades were iron. That didn't really matter to him. Made things more interesting sure...but he's been stabbed by iron before. Frankly, he hasn't cared about living for a long time. It was why he was so good at what he did...not caring about ones life meant a whole lot less caution...along with a lot less likelihood of giving anything away.

His head tilted. "I do wonder though...why would you cull your food source? After all if they all die you've got nothing to leech on but animals. If you breed them that will probably just spread disease" Vlad shrugged. "It doesn't sound very thought out to me...then again I'm not your kind so what do I know" He was experimenting. He just needed to expose the flesh to the light. After awhile even the oldest vampire would get uncomfortable.

[Assistant]
Tristan gave a snort while shaking his head slowly. "It's not a matter of special. Sometimes I just feel generous and give warning." He stated before vanishing in a wisp of smoke only to appear right in Vlad's face. "You're half vampire, boy. Don't deny a portion of your heritage even if others deny you." He growled out before vanishing again and appearing a little ways away. The smoke had no smell whatsoever, it seemed to just be an effect of this unique ability.

The older vampire just gave a brief smile at the mention of the half-breeds co-workers. "I haven't been into town, so I don't particularly know what is happening to your Covenant." He stated before his eyes darkened briefly. "As for the culling...your food should not be more dangerous than you are. It should not be able to swarm over you like insects. Humans have spread to far to fast and are, simply put, to fucking destructive." He snarled before gesturing to the town. "How many forests and animals were wiped out to build this single town? I might not be a lover of nature but even I cherish the planet I was put on." He explained before his hand flickered.

The shortsword he had held was launched towards Vlad's body in a blinding display of speed. "Humanity needs to be put in its place and it needs to be done now. Our people have been far to fucking kind to them to let them spread like cockroaches." Tristan finished as another blade appeared within his grip.