[System]
Age: 16
Gender: Female
Appearance: "Heheheee~ Don't go back that way, it's-"*BOOM*"-... Right on time! :D"
Abilities: Milly is, in spite of her young age, an explosives expert with an in-depth knowledge of how to brew just about anything you might need for demolition. She knows how to make small explosives, big explosives, explosives that will stick to a surface, explosives that will just flash without actually causing damage, if you need something blown up, Milly is the one to ask. She's also rather capable of laying traps, provided they involve explosives. She is also adept at predicting when an explosion will occur, and as she is familiar with the scent of gunpowder she can detect it by smell very easily. Due to her small size, Milly is also decent at infiltration, provided she gets to blow something up at the end.
Personality: Milly is rather friendly and enthusiastic, and eager to talk. Well, eager to talk about one specific thing. Explosives. Milly loves to talk about explosives. This may be because of her near-obsession with them and her tendency to use them for just about any purpose no matter what it is. Distractions, breaking through a lock, fighting, Milly uses explosives to do just about anything they could possibly be used for. She adores explosions to the point of almost lusting for a fiery blast of destruction, which likely drives her work to make more and more explosives. She is eager to help out the crew... by building explosives and explosive traps. However, she can also be rather temperamental and quick to anger. She is much more patient with constructing new bombs then she is with people in most cases. She dislikes her nickname of "Minnie" as she is self-conscious about her small size and underdeveloped appearance. However, she is confident she will grow out of it, insisting she is simply a late bloomer and in a year or two she will be even more mature in build then any of the other girls in the crew. Her payback towards those who anger her tends to vary, from planting flashbang traps in their room to putting small explosive traps under their bed, the former for friends and the latter for enemies.
Bio: Descended from a long line of explosives experts, Milly's purpose in life is derived from the success of her family in the field. To put it simply, Milly feels the need to display her explosives knowledge. Born to Eric and Danielle Nobel, Milly grew up learning about explosives. Indeed, from a young age, she grew more and more obsessed with them. Sadly, she suffered from illness early in life, which she insists explains her "late bloomer" status. She has long since recovered from her illness, and insisted in venturing out into the world to display her explosives knowledge. It became especially important to her after the accidental death of her father six years ago, which many people attributed to a mistake with his explosives. Adamant that her father would never make such a mistake, Milly left in order to prove the knowledge he passed to her was not the knowledge of someone who would have killed themselves with their own work. Admittedly she also left in order to blow up more things, but the original, chief purpose, the one closest to her heart, is to prove herself and prove her father did not make a mistake that cost him his life.

[User]
As Melody finished assigning the orders, Char let go Jon's arm, "Ah... How noble of you, Jon-sama, to sacrifice your time for the others..." she said, swooning. Either she wasn't so perceptive or was feigning ignorance, there was no way for them to be sure.

Then, Char went bellow the deck and picked a hooded cloak. It wasn't the most conspicuous cloth ever, given the elaborate brocade that lined the cloak's edge, but it would still be able to hide her face in case the bounty hunters that her father sure must have sent to find her were on port. Also, who would suspect of someone wearing fancy clothes on a pirate port? "The best place to hide a tree is in a forest..." Her father said, when teaching her how to evade taxation, the fact that he was so good a teacher that his lessons could be used against him was quite the irony in Char's opinion.

Nevertheless, when Char got back at the deck she said, "Minnie-san, please take care of Jon-sama for me, you're the only person that I trust to do that on this ship." Hidden within Char's words was the message, "Since you two wouldn't be doing anything with this sorrowful body, anyway. Hehehe."
Then Char strode happily towards the port, while saying (a little louder than needed), "Now then, Pico what should we do today? I know it, I was really needing a new bra, anyway..." Before striding into the city.

[Assistant]
"Wh-what?"

She... she was going to stay behind on the ship?! But that sucked! She wanted to go into the port, too... Milly frowned deeply, and couldn't even open her mouth before her captain lept off the side of the boat and headed into town. That just... just... Hmph. All that the tiny white-haired girl could think is that Melody better make it up to her, whether it be through explosives, sweets, the potential new crew member being a pretty girl(they were nicer to look at then the male crew members, that was for sure), or the new potential new crew member being a pretty girl carrying explosives and sweets.

... Actually, that last possibility was really something, especially the explosives. Milly wasn't entirely sure why the thought of pretty girls carrying explosives made her so happy. Then again, she did like pretty girls(and feel a bit jealous of some of them even if she totally was just a late bloomer) and explosives independently, though she didn't express the former as much as the latter(it got a little embarrassing sometimes, what would people think? After all, no-one ever thought she was strange or weird now, right? Right?). Maybe both together was some kind of multiplier.

Of course, Milly was swiftly snapped out of her rather odd thought process when Charlotte yet again called her "Minnie" her long twintails seeming to move on their own from the sheer force of her irritation, her slight hands balled into fists and thrust down at her sides as she leaned towards the other girl, who proceeded to add insult to injury and mention that she was planning on buying a new bra. "Grrr... you... you..."

So irritated was the explosives-loving girl, that the only retort she could think of was sticking her tongue out, before folding her arms and swiftly turning away with a pout.

... At least there was whatever Johnathan had wanted to show her... maybe whatever explosive it surely was would make up for all this? ... And time to lay traps... Oh, she could have some fun with that...

She could even see how many she could pack into Charlotte's room. Not anything lethal, of course, but flashbangs were unpleasant and left a clear 'Don't call me Minnie' message.

[User]
~Song~

With a flick of her hair, she smoothly brushed past Jonathan, not even acknowledging his pleas for help.

Heading off into the city, she made a checklist of things she needed to get done. She needed her sword sharpened, wanted to pick up some apothecary supplies, and if she could find any, could definitely use some more paper for folding…

~Jonathan~

He huffed. He sighed. He harrumphed. He cleared his throat, folded his arms over his chest, and watched the rest of the crew depart off into Falis Island. How dreadful. Especially if Waldemar would return with a triumphant smile, victorious in his romancing.

Adjusting the lapels of his coat in resignation, he turned to Milly, who seemed flustered at first, but suddenly brightened up on her own. "Well, I suppose you and I will just have to find some way to entertain ourselves for six hours," he said, with a defeated smirk. "It wouldn't do to just sit around and stare at the port all day."

He then remembered what he had said to Milly earlier that morning. "Oh. Actually, follow me. I'll show you what I was talking about earlier."

Jonathan made to descend below deck with Milly in tow, heading to his room. As he walked, his cocky demeanor began to fall away a bit, replaced with a calm, clear minded expression. He had no intention of wooing the young white haired girl, so he dropped the show. If one were to meet Jonathan in this state, they would mistakenly assume that he was a respectable, humble gentleman.

"Ah here we are," Jonathan said as they reached his room. "I apologize in advance for the mess, but I was up late last night working, and nodded off without realizing."

He opened the door, revealing that his cabin was far from a mess. In fact, it nearly sparkled from cleanliness. His years of growing up in a pristine mansion had caused him to become unnerved when things were out of place, so he impulsively took it upon himself to ensure that his bed was tightly made, and nothing littered the floor. Though it was small, Jonathan's adept eye for spacing made his room appear a bit larger than it actually was. An elegant lamp gently lit the room, highlighting the subtly ornate rug that Jonathan had spread across the floor. In the corner was a neatly arranged desk with resistors, power supplies, gears, and all sorts of mechanical-electrical components laid out for easy reach. A strange disk like contraption sat in the center of the workspace.

"Now this, Ms. Nobel, is what I call the roto-bomber, for lack of an official name," Jonathan said proudly, as he picked the gadget up and spun it around in his hands. "An effective combination of an impact spring mechanism with timed charge pump ignition, if I do say so myself. I spent quite a bit of time perfecting the timing delay across the resistor network to match the ignition to the release time, and I also put a tremendous amount of thought into making sure the centripetal force detection didn't accidentally--"

"Ah," Jonathan stopped himself, realizing that he was about to fall into tinkering mode and bore Milly to death. He got a bit too excited about his own inventions.

"Well, really, the point of all this is to say that when you throw the roto bomber like a discus, the mechanism inside will cause it to greatly accelerate rotation and go farther than you could normally throw it," said Jonathan, demonstrating how to toss it. "Inside, the roto-bomber carries 12 small spheres for each orientation on the clock face, which you can time the release of. Upon release, the 12 spheres will self-ignite and be launched a calibrated distance between 10 to 30 feet away from the disk. I'm sure you can understand the value proposition in this invention- essentially, it's a small timed bomb with a potential 100 foot effective blast radius."

Jonathan pulled out one of the spheres. "Now this is where I'd gladly appreciate your assistance," he said, handing the sphere to her. "I must admit that I'm not quite the expert in incendiaries that you are, and I was hoping that you'd be able to choose the right sort of explosive substances to fill these with, so that optimum blast radius can be achieved without destroying the roto-bomber itself. Assuming that the roto-bomber doesn't self implode, it should be indefinitely reusable."

Through all of this though, Jonathan had left the top of the ship unguarded...

[Assistant]
Simone smirked at Jon's anguish in his situation. He might have felt bad for him if Jon wasn't so easy to laugh at. He wasn't a bad guy by any means, in fact Simone found him rather interesting, but he was just too easy a target sometimes. Oh well, nothing he could do. He adjusted his coat to make sure it wouldn't be uncomfortable as he thought of what they needed. Once he finished with his adjustments he nodded at Jon and Milly as he began to get off deck.

"I'll bring back something tasty for you two, something spicy maybe? Au revoir." He called out to the now guards as he got off of the ship and onto the port, also making his way to the city. He inhaled deeply and sighed contently. New city, new possibilities. He planned on tracking down some type of food market and getting some supplies, but he might need help getting all if it back to the ship. After that, the world was his oyster. Maybe he'd grab something to drink to cool himself down, if this weird crew could manage to keep itself out of trouble long enough for him to do that. Maybe a fight wouldn't break out today, but maybe that was just wishful thinking. As he thought more, he suddenly remembered something.

"Any special requests for food before I buy it and you guys get pissed because I didn't get anything you like? Nothing over the top, but I can splurge a bit here." He called out to the crew before they separated too much from each other so they could hear him. "If not I'll work something out." He shrugged nonchalantly.

[User]
Waldemar Von Richtig
Waldemar was a honorable man and went off first to secure medicinal herbs. The nobleman had not lied when he said that they were low; a serious wound without them could lead to a crew member's death via infection. Death by infection was only suitable for devils and Johnathan, and not a single other person.

He didn't reply to the question about food; in all honesty Waldemar trusted both Char's and the normal cook's prowess in the kitchen. If one thing was good about the ship, it was the luxury cuisine with every meal.

[Assistant]
Milly was rather eager to follow Johnathan down to his work desk, the thoughts of rigging Charlotte's room with flashbang traps pushed to the back of her mind. She was even more eager when Johnathan revealed his device. Something of an inventor herself(albeit with a much more narrow field and none of her inventions being intended to survive their usage), she was fascinated, and naturally the applications got her excited. So much brilliant fiery destruction in a massive circle all around the disk! Aaah, it was enough to make desire swell in her heart, desire to cause things to erupt into brilliant fireballs and leave destruction in their wake... But naturally, she had to give her advice.

Of course, Milly had plenty of experience with creating explosives that were purpose-built. Most could blow out in any direction, but in other cases there needed to be some more finesse. Taking down a door, for example, required the explosive force to be directed to the door and no-where else. Well, unless Milly didn't care about damaging whatever was around the door. There'd been a few times where she stuck a sticky bomb to the handle and lit it without a second thought.

Eyes shining with excitement, the tiny girl began.

"That's amazing!" she cried, "A circular explosive delivery system... a complete three-hundred-sixty degree range... Haaah~ I can feel my heart beating faster and faster just thinking about using this thing!"

Her cheeks flushed and her hands at her sides, Milly was practically shaking with just how eager she was to be able to test the device out. "... Of course, you couldn't use it at close range unless there was some way to only trigger the explosives facing away from you, which is defeating the main purpose of the disc shape in the first place... if you used shaped charges you could direct the blast outwards and the disc wouldn't be harmed, but that could be tricky... the payload you'd need is hard to judge without seeing how far it can shoot the explosives out... but this is still amazing!"


[System]
Codename: Washington

Age: 27

Gender: Male

Armour Ability: Teleportation

Implanted A.I.: Epsilon

Appearance:

Personality: Jacobs is an optimistic guy who always sees the funny side of a dangerous situation. He hates being wrong and doesn't appreciate being corrected (Even when he is wrong). Jacobs can be very cocky and overestimate an opponent, situation or even his own skills. Taking on tasks that are far too difficult for him alone, he can be very stubborn and will not admit when he needs help or even ask for it. Even with all this he keeps his head and always thinks about the objective and how to achieve it.

History: Jacobs had an ordinary childhood, nothing truly special. Brought up on military drills and weapon stripping he has known nothing but UNSC and the pride he would bring his family fighting for the UNSC. His family were quick to distrust the Elites joining humanities caused and this xenophobia rubbed off on Jacobs. Once he was of age he was shipped straight off to the nearest UNCS barracks to begin his training.

Fast forward several years and Jacobs found himself fighting an innumerable foe know as the flood and in charge of his own six man squad. Called the greatest threat to the galaxy Jacobs fully understood why. During one particular battle in which Jacobs and five other men had to protect and hold a comms array Jacobs finally saw the elite in a positive light. During the fighting Jacobs lost all of his men too the monstrous creatures with his back against the wall he saw his fellow soldiers rise up and turn on him. Seeing no way out he pulled the pin on a grenade and held it to what was left of his helmet.

Before he could finish himself the Elite reinforcements arrived in a rain of plasma fire. Throwing the grenade into the horde he watched as the Elite forces swept through the sea of flood systematically slaughtering this great threat. With the threat eliminated Jacobs thanked the Elites for their help. A few months later he was put forward for the Freelancer Project.

Weapon loadout:
MA2B Assault Rifle with built in bayonet.

M363 Remote Projectile Detonator.

M6G Pistol.

Combat Knife.

x3 Fragmentation Grenade.

x2 Flash Grenades Grenades.

Fighting Style: Jacobs fights up close and personal using his personalised Assault rifle mixed with his large variety of martial arts.

[User]
The Director looked over the agents with hidden curiosity. They were all either quiet or engaging in mindless chit-chat to pass the time. The Director smiled as he looked over the files that were on his desk. "Jacob Huntington? Fairly dull background to the collection of people here. But still someone to keep an eye on. Counselor, what happened to the last shipment of experimental weapons. Binary rifles? Was that there name?"

The Counselor looked at his PDA and sighed. "I am sorry to report sir but they are currently in rebel hands, they ambushed the delivery ships and stole the cargo."

The Director slammed his fist down on the table making the Counselor jump. "God damn it! These rebels stealing everything I try to get delivered! No matter. A perfect first mission for our new recruits however training time first. Then mission briefs." Pressing a button on his desk a woman's voice spoke out across the large hall, the voice had a robotic tinge in the way it spoke as she addressed the Agents in the large hall, who had now gone quiet.

"Welcome you are one of 49 elite military members who have been chosen for the new Freelancer project. We hope that you have gotten your self comfortable to listen to this recording as you will need to listen very carefully! You will no longer be know by your Civilian names, instead you will be addressed by your new code name which will have been assigned to you before you entered this hall. This must be used at all time this is for your safety! Before entering live combat you will be hooked up with various armour enhancements and an extremely Valuable AI. This AI is suited to you and will help you use your new abilities safely and efficiently.

Working together is crucial to completing your objective and scoring high in the leaderboards. The leaderboards track your personal progress throughout your missions. No matter where you are on the leaderboard you will not be treated any differently, these leaderboards are for The directors and the boards feedback as to how well the Project is running. There are a few rules that must be followed:

AIs must not communicate with each other.

No contact to the outside is allowed via any mode of communication.

Use of live weapons or abilities unless inside a training zone or on a mission is prohibited.

Obey any orders given to you by the Director or Counselor.

Thank you for your patience the Director will now address you".

The Directors voice followed the woman's after a short pause. "Good morning agents. To assess who is going to be implanted with what A.I. we will begin this morning with a round of sparring. We will be assessing how you fight and act individually and together. Your opponents will be military grade Mechanoids with military A.I.. You will be outnumbered two to one so take this into account. Please make your way towards the training facility now."

The training facility in question was a large room filled with a simulation battle environment made to look like an abandoned village. All of the agents would be able to use live round however their armour abilities would be disabled. Their opponents stand at the other side of the room, black suits of armour armed with simulation rounds that pack a hell of a punch but are not lethal.

Washington was the first in, looking at situation he grimaced. "Man, robots punch like heavyweight boxers and take as much punishment as a tank. Not fair."

Once all the agents were in a horn buzzed signaling the start of the exercise. The robots jumped to life taking up defensive position and throwing smoke grenades in front of them to cover their advance and Advance they did. Slowly moving forwards preparing to engage whoever got close.

Washington looked over at the rest of the agents. "Hey guys and gals names Washington, these robots are going to be a bitch to take down. Word to note they'll keep on going even if you knock of their heads. They can take information from other bots to see so if one sees you they all see you. Only reason I know so much about these bastards is this ain't my first rodeo with them. Got stuck in a training simulator with two of them, they beat me good. So don't get caught and if you do have to hit them then hit them as hard as you fucking can! Apart from that..." Washington pulled the pin on a grenade. "Have fun!" Vaulting over the wall he had been hiding behind he threw the grenade into the crowd of machines. They jumped away from the explosive and Washington was there to meet them blasting one in the arm with his AR he was met with a punch to the gut sending him flying over a wall. "Son of a bitch!"

[Assistant]
As he watched Washington get thrown back over the wall Georgia grinned inside his helmet. "Worst charge ever. Of all time." He muttered to himself. Georgia's first reaction was to back away as far as he could, preferably onto another planet, but that was hardly an option right now so instead he let himself fall backwards as he fired a burst from his rifle into the closest robot, letting the recoil propel him into a backwards roll which gained him a good couple of meters, and ended up with him standing beside a tall pillar.

Quickly rolling on his heel the armoured warrior spun into the cover just as a smattering of return fire smacked into it, showering him with fragments of the tough material. "Hey, wait a sec, are they using live ammo too?" He called into his radio, asking anyone and everyone at once. If this really was going to be an unfair advantage from the get-go then the recruits wouldn't stand a chance.

It can't be as simple as that, Georgia thought to himself, letting his eyes gaze around the room as he leaned back against the pillar, feeling the reverberations of weapons impacts on the far side while looking for some sort of advantage hidden in the terrain that he might be able to use. This is supposed to be a test after all, and they wouldn't have shipped us all out here just to kill us.

[User] The previous night Virginia hacked into security cameras and had them linked to her HUD. She watched the robots on her HUD from behind a wall. She studied their reactions times. She took an empty magazine and threw it when none were looking her way. The distraction provided her an opportunity she grabbed the closest robot. She used her assault rifle's armor penetrating rounds to put a hole through the torso. She watched as the other robots turned to attack. She used the robot as a shield.

[Assistant]
With a roaring battlecry Idaho charged straight towards the approaching robots, bullets from her full-auto burst of fire ripping into the chest of one before she barrelled into a second and brought her rifle round to blast its head and torso until her ammo counter read empty.

Rolling forwards into cover of a low wall Kimmie quickly release the spent clip and slammed home a fresh one before reaching down to her waist and grabbing a grenade. Holding it for a couple of seconds, cooking it in her hand as she silently counted off the timer, she lobbed it over the wall into the next wave of robots. Looking up she suddenly spotted a robot looming over her, its arm raising to hammer down on her with brutal force just before something clattered on the floor behind it.

Exile

As the robot's head snapped around, searching for the cause of the sound, Virginia slammed into it, grabbing the robot tightly as she blasted its torso apart. Tapping her faceplate in salute to her colleague Kimmie smiled inside her helmet. "Thanks for the save," She called into her radio excitedly, "Fancy double teaming the rest of these tin cans?" Without waiting for a response Idaho leapt over the wall, laughing loudly as she fired another full-auto burst into the incoming robots, catching them off guard as they turned to target Virginia.

[User]
Spotting what he needed Georgia leapt out from behind the pillar, quickly dodging from cover to cover until he reached a high tower set back from the rest of the field. A quick glance back at the rst of the team told him that him colleagues were keeping the robots busy enough for him to try something a little creative, so firing up his booster Georgia launched himself up into the air before landing with a roll on the top of the high platform. He hated using the jetpack, it was tricky to control at the best of times, and during a firefight it could be lethal to someone not concentrating on it fully.

Looking down Georgia smiled. He knew there'd be something like this hidden around the place there always seemed to be in every training arena. Dropping his assault rifle he picked up the sniper rifle instead and waited a moment for his suit HUD to register the change in weapon before lifting it up and taking aim.

His first shot took out the leg of a robot trying to flank Virginia and Idaho, coming round the back of one of the large blocks out of their line of sight. As it fell its weapon fired off, sending a stream of bullets passed the girls harmlessly. The second shot smashed through the top of the robot's head, down into its chest, leaving it sprawled lifelessly on the ground. "One down, lots to go..." The sniper muttered, turning his sights onto the next target.

[Assistant]
"Yeah whatever," Montana said facing down one bot ",Time to lay the pain train on this hunk of junk. Good think I can return the same hits they can give." To prove his point, he ran forward at the bot he was facing, landing a bone shattering blow onto the robots head. Normally a hit like that would perhaps knock a person out for the count. Montana was surprised that the punch didn't just drop the bot and had little time to react when the robot punched him back, sending him skidding across the ground.

"Okay maybe these bots do pack a punch," he grumbled to himself as he got himself back open and getting his bearings back ",Fine but lets see how they like meeting Scorn." With that he with drew his trusty shotgun, something he had kept with him over the years ever since he was given it from the military. It was one item he never leaved without and if anyone dared to try and steal it, they wouldn't be walking for awhile after wards when Montana caught them. He aimed at the bot coming towards him and fired, blowing a hole through it's chest, but not even that seemed to stop these machines. The bot fell onto the ground seemingly lifeless, making Montana feel smug but after a few seconds of laying still it just got up again.

"Great so apparently we will be fighting the undead," Montana said and then shrugged ",Oh well means more action for me." He charged forward again, enjoying the thrill he was getting going toe to toe with a force that could match his strength. It got quite dull winning a fight with one punch sometimes so now having something he could beat to death was far more entertaining. As he approached the bot another jumped onto him from behind but it hardly fazed Montana and he kept going, now having a passenger on his back as he slammed his gun full force into the bot in front of him that he had started this fight with, nearly detaching it's head. Once he dealt with that he grabbed the robot from his back and threw it across the room.

"That's a home run," he said before turning around to see the headless robot get up again ",Right I forgot you can still fight without the head perfect." Today was going to be a long and fun day for him to enjoy as he got ready to spar the bot once more.

[User]
Washington's head was spinning inside his helmet. Picking himself off the ground he grabbed his rifle which had landed next to him. "That really hurt!" Checking his ammo count he dusted of his armour. "Let's rock and roll baby!" Charging forward he let loose with a volley of bullets into his robotic enemies. Switching to his Sticky grenade launcher he fired it into the first robot he came across. It stuck to its torso, giving it no time to react he switched back to his rifle and stabbed it in the back and charged into a group of robots. One got a kick on him loosening his grip on the robot the blade in its back sliding out and sending him flying over a wall.

Pulling out the detonator he smiled. "Scrap metal it is then fellas." Pressing the detonator the stuck robot exploded. Due to the robots being so bunched the damage blew two into pieces the other two from the group that attacked him were missing an arm or head but were relatively undamaged. They replied to his attack by reaching for him from behind the wall and picking him up from the ground by the neck.

"Oh come on, you're even worse then the last time! Little help guys?!"


[System]
Username: Aristo
Age: 28
Gender: Female
Rank: [Do not fill this in if you are not the guild leader.]
Equipment:
* Ambrosian Basket-hilted Sword – A well-made cut and thrust sword with an elaborate handguard design resembling a basket. Popular among heavy cavalry.
* Ambrosian Three-Quarter Armor – A suit of ornately-detailed armor omitting leg protection. Tall boots are worn instead as a more practical alternative for dragon riding. Damiana typically neglects a helmet.
* Cranequin – A crossbow operated by cranking a rack-and-pinion system to cock the string. This enables the weapon to be used effectively while mounted.
* Quiver of Bolts
* Celelyrium Riding Crop

Personality: Damiana seems to exemplify many tropes one might expect of a member of aristocracy: haughty, self-aggrandizing, insular and so on. Whether or not she is as presumptuous as her appearance suggests, Damiana is certainly ambitious; perhaps ruthless, even. She is someone who defines objectives and orchestrates the means to see them fulfilled. She is capable of masking her intentions well, projecting one aim to those around her, yet inwardly accomplishing another. She regards most with either understatement or as a means to an end, pawns on a chessboard to maneuver for greater gain.

To some surprise; however, she has an solicitous attitude towards the dragons. Although her modus operandi would suggest otherwise, Damiana has a strong admiration for the race as a whole. It is evident how powerful they are as a force of nature, especially compared to an individual human. Maybe enduring the yoke for so long has earned a measure of her respect – however, by no means is turning them loose on her agenda.

In light of her manipulative nature, Damiana is a highbrow: cultured and possessing a keen intellect. She knows when to shift between priorities and is capable of temporarily setting her goals aside for mutual good. She synergies well with others who are equally competent in their fields, issuing or receiving commands as circumstances dictate. She adheres to local law and custom; however, she doubtlessly looks for loopholes with which to cheat the system.

Short Biography: Damiana was born into the aristocratic Ambrosian house of Melchiorre, and as a consequence, is used to living among the upper echelons of society. She gravitated towards the political maneuvering of the court, finding the intrigue to be a necessary facet of life, but also one she took pleasure in. As an agent of Ambrosis, Damiana would acquire skills involving espionage, reconnaissance and dealing in information. She was selected as the diplomatic representative of Ambrosis to the White Dove.

Under her position as emissary to the guild, Damiana sought to acquire information regarding the "fallen stars." While Ambrosis's full attention was elsewhere, occupied by tensions with Solis and Lunaris, she would report her findings back to the courts. Additionally, she resolved to use her position to either undermine the White Dove's position in Solis, or increase Ambrosis's influence in the region, if not both.

Residing at the White Dove's headquarters, Damiana uses her connections in the spy network to keep her homeland informed as she accompanies the White Dove's exploits. She hopes - and expects - her efforts to strengthen the position of herself and her house in Ambrosis.

Mount: TBD

Theme: youtu.be/OvM5By87AIU

[User]
Nathair kneeled towards the open window in his room, by his sturdy bed. The rising sun shone bright and warm on his face. His dark clothes and leather armor soaked the heat of the fiery Queen and relaxed his being. Nathair closed his eyes and rested his hands on his knees. Keeping his back straight and chin up he began his morning prayer. "Father of the Northern Coast, Mother of the Northern Sea, Guardians of the wind that is free..." Leaving the gray walls and ascetic furnishing behind the closed eyelids Nathair returned to the moment when the sun rose that winter morning, now more than a year ago, when he found his friend cold and motionless by his side.

Since his arrival to the Guild, he had tried to leave that moment to the past where it belongs but a brother is always a brother. Once the first rays of sunlight creeped into his room he had his clothes on and he left his room to exercise. He jogged to the castle wall and climbed on top of it. Then he ran. He ran as fast as he could if there was a roof or a surface in a jumping distance, he would jump. He ran around the castle dodging, evading, climbing regardless of obstacles that came to him. This was as close to the forest and mountains as he would get here. The ones in the distance were too far for a morning excersice.

He came to the watch tower, to the end of his run. He began climbing carefully but swiftly. He had come almost to the top when his left hand slipped from a small dent in a rock where he had is grip. A flash of a cannon ripped his mind for a moment. Quickly he clawed to the rock and his hand found a secure place. He was not going to fall yet. After a short breather an some extra hearbeats he kept climbing up.

Soon Nathair reached the roof of the tower. He stood up and looked towards North for a moment. "I won't fall again", he said and bowed his head for a moment. After a short moment of reverent silence he sharply lifted his head towards the horizon again and took two steps back to the edge of the roof. Nathair closed his eyes and leaned back. He was in air only for a short moment but that was when he felt alive. His past distanced itself from him rapidly. His home, his friend, his love, all that died or burned that winter in that small village stayed on that roof with the sunrise.

"...keep me safe and my wings strong. This, is what I pray." Nathair opened his eyes and stood up when a sharp knock on the door pulled him back to the room right before he fell to the haystack. This knock, didn't wait to be allowed in. He turned around and greeted, "Ma'm", with a nod when the door opened. "How can I serve this morning?" @Knight of Doom

[Assistant]
With a lot of interest the small female dragon, currently in human form, also small, stared at the new arrival from a fair distance. It looked like Thora would get another dragon to "play" with. Already the thoughts of things she could do elicited a small snicker from her. Still, Thora decided to leave the new dragon alone for a while as she knew how pissy one will get when delivered to this guild. Especially when captured and brought here by hunters. Oh, the humility of that she could only imagine having more or less voluntarily chosen "unpaid employment", as Thora liked to call it, in this guild. Of course her previous master and breeder received a generous enough payment to get her off his hand. She had only been trouble for him, so she heard, so he was pretty happy in the end to get rid of Trickster Thora.

Thora's thoughts got back on track as she walked back to the main building to pick up some food. Of course she'D welcome the new dragon with a nice welcoming prank, but that had to wait for a while, she reckoned. "I'd be a terrible dragon if I ruined her first day...", she mumbled aloud, but she smirked after that. But I can ruin her second day... She chuckled at that thought. Oh, it's gonna be great!

As she entered the dining hall, she spotted her rider, Zoran peacefully eating with some other riders and dragons. A broad smile spread across her face as she slowly sneaked up on them and right behind them broke out into snickers her face contorted into a smirking grimace.
"Kukukukukukuku!"

(@Whoever is in the cafeteria and close to @Renny)

[User]
The earth rolled by under, like the spine of a great verdant dragon. Sid flew between it and the cotton bud clouds that blanketed the sky. The only hint of his motion was the constant hum of moving air and the small clouds that ran past his vision.

For a dragon there was no other place as natural as being in flight, no greater freedom. This was something all dragon's understood at least instinctively. For Sind it was a constant reminder of what could be, if only he knew how. He often pondered how humans, as powerful as they were, never learned how to fly, or how to grow wings. It was strange how they were so strong yet at the same time so weak. It was a puzzle that intrigued him greatly…

He sensed the warm currents of a thermal a little ways of to the east, he banked gently to ensure that his path connected with it. He felt the warm air caress his feathers as he caught the thermal, and began a smooth ascent. As he pierced the cloud cover his vision was surrounded by the grey of clouds, and his nostrils overflowed with scent of fresh moisture of morning cloud.

Then suddenly he broke past, and into a world of light and warmth. The radiant sun bathed him in its warmth, its gold rays causing his cobalt scales to glitter and his feathers to shine iridescent. His feathers shone like they were happy. Sind was most definitely happy.

As he noticed the position of the sun, he decided that it was time to go back. His rider, Mel had probably just finished her morning training. So drawing his wings close to his flank he dove back into the sea of clouds below him. It was time to sprint back to guild, test how much he could push himself. It was something he did every day, see how fast, how long he could go.

Time had moved past the heart of morning by the time Sind reached the guild. Unfortunately he was slower today than usual, mostly due to a stronger than usual head wind. He banked until he spotted the grounds, with their soft sands to ease landing. It was normal landing without much fuss, which meant it was good one. Drawing his wings, legs, tail almost inwards but in a direction he couldn't quite see. Soon enough he was a human, all limbs and no wings.

Now to look for Melaniya, at this time the best place to search was the dining hall. If he was quick enough he'd be able to catch her just before she left. So jogging into the guild he made headway to the dining hall. Lo and behold he found her two thirds of the way down.

"Good morning to you rider, how went your training eh? Good or great?! Cause my morning flight terrific!" he said, his sunny demeanor breaking through his usual timidness. Most probably the comfort he shared with his rider.

Then he noticed Nathair, causing him to quickly revert back to his timid demeanor. "Oh u-um good morning, sir...." he said his eyes downcast.

@Knight of Doom

[Assistant]
Calahna shook her head once more at the black and red dragon, wondering how she could possibly think it am using to see someone choke was mind boggling to her. Calahna was a more gentle dragon; She believed that all beings should be treated with respect, and kindness- at least until they no longer deserved it. Even though, Calahna does not let herself sink down to the level of those who are rude to her.
As Calahna tidied the kitchen as best she could, she could hear a booming and powerful voice erupt from the dinning hall. She sighed, as she heard the voice call for Freya.
"Please, excuse me Danzenth... I must tend Kahgon."

After gathering the same mush that everyone else was eating, Calahna swiftly came to Kahgon's side. "I'm afraid Freya is rather busy to tend to you herself," She placed the tray of food in front of Kahgon, straightening herself with her hands intertwined, she looked to the others at the table. "Would anyone like anything else?" She awaited patiently for any answer from the others at the table.

@PyroDash888@Renny@Crazy Doctor

[User]
 The new dragon was spectacular. Spines dotted the length of its back, bisected with dark stripes that gave way to violet hues at the tips of its appendages. From each claw grew an enormous spike, seemingly capable of piercing right through an armored soldier. It was the dragon's temperament that was the icing on the cake: prideful, aggressive, defiant. A dragon's personality said many things about its deadliness - having talons may be one thing, but the gall to rip out throats is another.
 From the window of her office, Damiana watched as the new arrival was stripped of its bonds, and Sigil came to announce his place in the dragon-rider hierarchy. She'd woken up particularly early to get a glimpse of the dragon's arrival, and for sake of privacy. As she admired the dragon, her hand danced across a slip of parchment, forming a concise note.

 New dragon arrived this morning. Female. Lively, untamed, dangerous. Abilities yet to be revealed. Rider is to be Guildmaster Sigil Cloudfury. Identifiable by severe claw spikes, purple coloration and black stripes.

 The Ambrosian folded and sealed the note, affixing it to the heel of the carrier pigeon on the windowframe.
 "Fly," she commanded, giving it a guiding toss into the air. The bird unfurled its wings and soared away from the White Dove's keep, message in tow. So far, her communications from the guild had yet to be discovered. This was a reliable way of keeping her associates updated on its activities.
 With her errand out of the way, Damiana stood from her desk and draped her cape over her shoulder. She was dressed in a wine-red doublet with gold embroidering and leather trousers tucked into tall riding boots. Though her duties here demanded a different style of attire than the Ambrosian courts did, Damiana did not shrink when it came to quality.
 The ambassador locked the door of her office behind her, making her way through the fort's halls to the dining hall, which was already lively with a handful of the guild's riders and dragons.


[System]
"Oh don't you dare look back, just keep your eyes on me", I said "you're holding back", she said "shut up and dance with me!"
Face Claim: Kay Panabaker
Age: 11
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Date/Place of Birth: July 13th, 1998. Swindon.
Currently: Hogwarts
House: Gryffindor
Wand: Dogwood, 6 ¾", Phoenix Feather. Springy and excitable.
Patronus: Will be a Stoat
Personal
Childhood/Family Life: Sadie's childhood has been hard work. Raised on the family farm, Sadie is well acquainted with long days and extensive studying. An excellent student, she often ranked in the top ten in her coursework.
Exceptionally close to her mother, Sadie's most cherished memories are their numerous outings and girly nights. Sadie nurtured a mechanical streak with her father, helping him maintain aging farm equipment. Her relationship with her brother Brennan has always been strained, their personalities too similar to allow them to get on.

Personality: Bubbly, excitable, and prone to mischief, Sadie has a loud personality. Often bouncing between four different thoughts, she is often mistaken as a brainless ditz. Beneath her cheery exterior, however, lies a deeply curious mind and fiery determination. Passionate, dedicated, and fiercely protective of her friends, Sadie's sharp wit is a weapon in and of itself.

Hobbies: Video games, geo-caching, studying, calligraphy, cards.

[User]
Sadie wasn't sure she really understood what House Elves were, or what "live to work" meant, but it seemed a little troubling. She bit her tongue, because she got the sense she wouldn't quite like the answer and she didn't want to stir up trouble. She'd just gotten here and made friends. She didn't want to ruin everything on her first night in the castle.

Sadie busied herself with her dinner, listening as George enthused about Seine's dad. Famous then, she deduced, looking over at him. Seine grinned a bit, rubbing the back of his neck. Wow, she'd never met anyone famous in her life. Sadie drained her pumpkin juice, listening intently. She was going to learn everything-- she detested this feeling of being lost, of others having to fill in the blanks for her. Brennan had told her the library here was a monstrosity, and she was eager to find it.

"Yeah, that's my old man. He just took a contract for the World Cup next summer, so that'll be fun," he sounded proud and excited, and Sadie bit back the bitter taste of envy for a smile. It was silly—she couldn't change her humble beginnings, so there was no point in being jealous. Sadie almost believed herself.

Sadie listened as George explained his mum's theory behind ghosts, watching a stream of pearlescent figures streaming in. A beautiful woman floated to the table of blue and bronze, and man with trailing chains to the far end of the room. Sadie rather liked the jolly friar moving along his table. He reminded her a bit of Father Elliot from church, who had always been kind and welcoming.

As brilliant as this was, Sadie found herself missing St. Catherine's. This was amazing and shining and the food was wonderful and magic... but it felt so frighteningly large, and Sadie felt so very small here. St. Catherine's had been strict, but it had been calm and kind.

Dinner concluded well over an hour later, and Sadie had never eaten so much before in her life. Her stomach hurt, but she firmly regretted nothing. The pretty prefect and the grumpy one were calling for first years, and Sadie fell in obediently behind them. Xia He was explaining the path to the common room, the importance of passwords and various other things. Sadie was busy studying the moving portraits and gasping as the stairs moved beneath her—not like an escalator, the whole bloody staircase was moving!

They had stopped at a portrait of an exceptionally fat, but elegant, lady garbed in luxurious pink robes.
"Password?" she intoned, touching the crown of flowers in her hair and smiling coquettishly.
" _Acta non verba_," Xia He spoke clearly, and the portrait swung open wide to reveal a beautiful circular room. Sadie smiled at the crushed crimson velvet and gold and overstuffed arm chairs. She waved to George and Seine as she followed the girls to a staircase on the right. She smiled at a girl with a beautiful red hijab and a blonde who was nearly half a foot taller than the rest of them.

Their dorm was gorgeous. Handsome four poster beds with crimson and gold draping stood around the room, with their names stitched in elegant golden cursive. Sadie beamed, testing her bed with a bounce. Ooh, nice!

"Wow," a curly haired girl commented, running a hand over the mahogany of her bed. "This is nice."

"It's brilliant," Sadie agreed, sliding off her bed. She extended her hand, the shorter girl shaking it with a polite smile. "I'm Sadie."

"Tasia," she looked around the room questioningly. The lanky blonde blushed, stammering.

"G-Gail Mascolo. Nice to meet you."

"Maryam," chirped the girl with the pretty headscarf, looking up at the ceiling, where a beautiful carving of fire connected all the decorative silk from the walls. It looked as if it were actually burning, and Sadie decided she quite liked these accommodations.

"Rosamund," a curly redhead nodded, digging in her trunk for something or other. A brunette lingering near her arched a brow, arms folded.

"Holly," she remarked cautiously, almost suspiciously, and Sadie turned to smile at a quiet girl with coppery braids assigned to the bed next to hers.

"Asenath," she murmured, looking almost alarmed as Sadie bounced for joy.

Sadie had not had many girlfriends before in her life, but here, sitting on the floor of the common room with the other girls and laughing over stories, she finally felt properly at ease in the castle.

[Assistant]
George smiled and laughed, joining in like any normal child would.
"No way! Are you going? My Mum's trying to get us all tickets for the Final. It's in Denmark, but it doesn't take long to get there, so it shouldn't matter. Be cold, mind." He commented, taking a sip of his soup again. The room around him was more alive than he'd ever expected it to be. More friendly and cheerful. Certainly more welcoming than he'd pictured. It may have only been a few hours and tomorrow may be the beginning of their real lessons, but he could already feel how amazing everything was going to be. They were all going to be friends for their entire school lives. He could feel it. Sadie wouldn't have trouble making new friends and he was glad she'd made the effort to chat to Seine. He was a good kid, he could see it already. George hoped he'd at least be sharing a room with him. He wasn't even sure how many he had to share a room with. He'd never shared a room before. What if his stuff wasn't safe?

He stood up with the rest of his House when everyone sprang to life once more. He joined the bustle as hundreds of children and teenages tried to leave the giant doors together and all at once. He followed suit, keeping close behind Sadie and Seine. He spotted a house dressed in yellow disappear down a hall just to the right of him before watching another horde descend down some stairs. That just left themselves and Ravenclaw to ascend on the staircase that seemed to rotate and move! George watched along with those around him, some spotting the moving stairs above them, whilst others gawked at the moving paintings. He gave a short laugh at the sight of Sadie's reactions to everything. Muggleborns were the funniest.

Soon the troop slowed down, reaching a complete stop before a strange looking painting. He couldn't see much behind all those infront of him but soon heard a rich voice, old and firm. He tried to make mental note of the password and followed everyone inside. He peered over the shoulders of some of the taller students and gaze around a room clad in red and a vivid gold, lions on each wall and paintings that walked about, trying to see all the new students. He heard something about splitting up and gave Sadie a brief wave in goodbye. He felt a pang of anxiety and kept close to Seine. The other students were going to be as nice as the two he'd already made friends with but there was nothing certain about it.

Climbing up the stairs, he counted the small group of boys to be about five, including himself. He didn't dare look back to try and work it out. They were guided into a room with thick wooden beds, each clad with red again. He would probably grow sick with the colour in time, but this was really it. This was his home. He followed Seine inside and spotted his trunk against one bed, shining a thick, expensive looking leather, silver straps covering the top, contrasting against the gold well. He walked over to his own bed and sat down, taking a moment to realise it was all happening. This really was it. He pulled his wand from his robes, running a hand over the white wood before placing it down on the cabinet by his pillow. He looked about the room at the boys he'd be spending his years with, smirking at the fact most of them had already started talking.

Brent was the first name he noticed. A stocky lad with thick bushing eyebrows, who sat opposite Seine, juggling a pair of socks in his hands. A thinner and shorter boy with a considerably round face introduced himself next, his voice quieter than anyone expected.
"Lincoln." He stammered, slipping down onto what would be his bed. George watched Seine introduce himself next, leaving just George and another boy, who seemed cheery and a little over-weight.
"Devon." He smiled. George quickly judged him to be over-confident and possibly prone to accidents and many failures over the next coming years. Finally, George spoke his name, avoiding looking at everyone in the room. Instead, he chose two and flicked between them both before looking back down at the ground.

Slowly they all settled in, unpacking and decorating, chatting and sharing sweets. It took some time before himself and Lincoln began to relax around the others. Brent spent too much time talking about quidditch and Devon seemed too interested in being everyone's friend. Yet it was Lincoln who George found more interesting. They sat and discussed Duelling more than anything else that night, sharing magazines and chatting teams and favourites. Before too long, everyone was yawning and growing sleepy. One by one, they retired, changing into pajamas and climbing into bed.

George didn't dream that night, or at least he couldn't remember it. Instead he awoke feeling tired and rushed as the room about him all hurried to get dressed into their Gryfindor robes and scurrying down to breakfast. George grabbed his wand and stopped at the bottom of the stairs, perching on armchair whilst he waited for Sadie and Seine.

[User]
The morning was a bustle of excitement and nervous giggles, getting ready together. Maryam was particularly clever, her sharp wit even getting Holly to smirk appreciatively. Sadie sat on the end of her bed, Asenath perched behind her and weaving a waterfall braid through Sadie's red hair. She seemed content to let Sadie chatter away, occasionally offering a quiet remark that Sadie had to strain to hear.

Her uniform had been neatly pressed, with red and gold embroidered into the trimming sometime during the night and her black flats polished to a shine. A silk tie had been included, emblazoned with what she assumed was the crest of the house at the very base.

Sadie ended up helping most of her dormmates knot their ties neatly, rather surprised to find that most of them had never done so before. But she recalled George's explanation; few of them would have attended any form of formal school before. She patted Gail's shoulder with a beam as she finished. Buttoning her cardigan over her crisp white shirt and high-waisted pleated skirt, Sadie followed Maryam and Tasia, slipping her red lined robes on over her shoulder. Luckily the castle was so drafty, otherwise Sadie suspected she might sweat to death. Gail fell into step with them as they descended the circular stairs.

"My mum just took over Madame Malkins," Tasia informed them, her massive curls bouncing with every step.
"What about you?" Sadie asked Gail over her shoulder, nearly tripping into Maryam. She blushed with a laugh, apologizing profusely. Gail cleared her throat a little nervously.

"Um, my papà's a liaison from the Italian Ministry. My mother collects art."
"And your family, Sadie?" Maryam queried as they entered the Common Room. Sadie scanned the room and found a familiar head of white blonde hair. She brightened, waving. Turning to her dormmates, she smiled apologetically.

"Oh, they're farmers. Sorry, have to go, I'll catch up with you later?"

Maryam's brow arched, and Sadie was surprised to see her direct a cool look towards George, as if she disliked him intensely. She offered Sadie a stern look.

"Be careful," she warned her, and Sadie tilted her head. "He's a Nott," she sounded as if that meant something really big and important, but it flew over Sadie's head. She shrugged.

"He's nice. Anyway, bye!" She bounded over before Maryam could lecture her further, joining her friends as Seine arrived with a loud yawn.

"Morning!" She chirruped, hitching her leather bag more evenly across her shoulder. "You look like a zombie, Seine."

He looked at her flatly, as if he didn't quite get her reference. What, really? All this magic and no one knew what zombies were? Maybe the magical world wasn't as great as she'd been lead to believe. She shook her head.

"Never mind. Did you sleep well?" She directed to George, plowing on ahead with a bounce. "I didn't. This is all too brilliant. Ahhh! Oh my gosh and we have class and I am so totally beyond ready. I've been waiting like, a hundred million years for this."


[System]
FC: KEIYNAN LONSDALE :P
Age: 16
Gender: M
DNA: Great White Egret (Ardea alba), White Winged Vampire Bat (Diaemus youngi)

Personality:

Dizzy isn't selfish, more so he's simply thoughtless and short sighted with an unhealthy side dish of oblivious. He likes his solitude and space, often resulting in a noticeable rift between him and the rest of the Flock, but he's not heartless or uncaring, and secretly he does enjoy the love and comfort of his peers, he just doesn't like to encourage them lest they get carried away. He has a brave and adventurous streak as well, enjoying exploration and daring to toe the rules.

Appearance:

Dizzy is short for his kind, but average on the whole. He enjoys a rather athletic build, excelling in the fitness trials. He has thick dark hair, warm brown skin, and wide dark eyes. He is hardly ever seen without either his tinted training goggles or his pair of cheap shades, designed to help him function in normal lighting without blinding his sensitive eyes. Smiles are few and far between, hiding his unusually straight teeth due to their less than human appearance, each of them pointedly sharp, making his genuine smiles small and unrevealing, and his wide grins more threatening. His wings are thick with curling soft white feathers, and they have a trim of even brighter white along the wing tips. His clothing choices are not typically form fitting, often consisting of worn, ripped, or faded articles that are too small or too large, but he hordes bright colors and trendy accessories, like earrings and bandanas.

Other:

Dizzy's name is well earned, he was often confused and not quite 'all there' as a kid. "What?" is still his catch phrase even years after he overcame his 'dizzy spells.' Combining this and his easily distracted mind with his uncomfortably precise hearing and tendency to be blinded by even mediocre lighting and Dizzy did indeed spend quite a lot of time being dizzy.

His unusual attributes, the ones outside the norm for the Flock, include weaknesses as well as strengths; such as his supernaturally advanced hearing, and the drawback of being overly sensitive to loud noises and easily distracted by faraway sounds. Similarly his night vision is better than most humans can see in the day, but even average day-time or artificial light levels can blind him. Dizzy also has a not so subtle vampire's bite, with many of his teeth being unusually pointed, specifically his canines and first premolars, and his saliva is full of powerful anticoagulants which make his bite likely to make his opponent bleed out if they aren't careful. Dizzy's fangs aren't the only sharp weapon in his body's repertoire though, he also has a set of mean claws, unassuming at first glance, but subtly hooked and thick, strong and sharp enough to tear skin, if only to make shallow cuts. Of his more relative to the Flock skills, Dizzy has taken to flying and strength with great talent, but flounders when made to apply too much grace or agility, however he does have an impressive sprint, and a positively predatory leap.

History:

At his youngest the scientists neglected Dizzy, leaving him to his own devices apart from the few times they attempted to make him pay attention to lectures or get concrete answers on his tests out of him, but usually he was simply subjected to basic scans and assessments before being left in his cage to amuse himself- which he did, listening to everything going on rooms away and playing with his food and generally avoiding the other children. Finally he was deemed old enough to be given proper medication for his inattention, and after a slew of vomit- and fever-inducing drug trials, they worked out a specially tailored attention-boosting drug just for him. Eventually he outgrew the 'dizzy spells' and no longer needed it, culminating in a nasty bout of withdrawal when they stopped giving it to him, but for the majority of his childhood he needed aids and special treatment the other children didn't- and was constantly reprimanded and made to pay for it.

He was sensitive to light, he could see all the right colors- mostly, sometimes purple was iffy - but his eyes couldn't process the excess brightness and resulted in copious amounts of squinting and shielding his eyes before finally someone bought him a cheap pair of sunglasses from the supermarket, and then eventually a pair of tinted pool goggles from the same place when the glasses kept falling off during physical training. Alarms and too-loud simulations quickly overwhelmed him, causing him such pain as to collapse screaming and clutching at his ears, the persistent ringing staying with him for days afterward, and so the scientists gave him ear plugs, which he constantly lost, resulting in the Flock finding a lone misplaced earbud in their personal space on a regular basis no matter where they went or what they were doing.

About the time puberty struck Dizzy began to make great strides in overcoming his 'disabilities', building up a resistance to louder and louder noises, and maintaining some sense of sight in most well-lit rooms, though both situations left him extremely uncomfortable and often with the dull throb of constant pain behind his eyes and in his ear drums. Other changes came to him, his adult teeth had been coming in oddly shaped for a while then, but the last of them pushed through as a set of questionably unsubtle fangs, and his tests revealed unique properties in his saliva. It was then that he stopped being the failure runt of the litter, setting off to training and exams with something to prove; and for his efforts he began excelling in class and on the mat, mostly on par with the rest of Flock for once, sometimes even managing to edge out the others and make the top score.

Going on seventeen Dizzy has both settled into his skin, and not. He feels awkward and estranged from the others, having taken much longer to tie that familial bond, and then saddled with the need to prove he was just as good as them he'd stepped on more than one set of toes, and fended off more than one kind gesture. He's much less moody these days, not as standoffish, but distant all the same. He's as invested in this gamble for freedom as any of them, but if anyone's most likely to wander off without a word and never be heard from again, it would be Dizzy. An unlikely scenario, he'd be lonely, and for all his eye-rolling and hasty retreats for a moment of solitude, he does care for his kin... he just maybe also cares for going to the cinema by himself, without telling anyone. And the beach. And maybe that flashy distracting concert down the street. Also, those cats are cute and he may spend a few hours following them around town if left unsupervised, and really who needs supervision? Not Dizzy, that's for sure. (Dizzy. Dizzy needs supervision.)

---

[User]
---

---

Crash noticed the odd look he was getting from Dizzy who volunteered to join him on a hunt. He was never too sure what was going on in Dizzy's head but he liked the kids attitude, always down to have some fun. He eyed Dizzy wondering what the guy was grinning about and before he had a chance to say anything about it Rook wandered into a tree.

 "You okay?" He asked, managing not to chuckle a bit, for the smartest member of the flock he could be pretty oblivious. He was more than happy to have other's help with the hunting, it meant bring back more food for everyone. He thought about Rook's comment about deer, he wasn't sure they'd be able to manage a deer with little to no tools and a small fire but a big juicy deer steak did sound wonderful.  "Excellent, sounds like we've got a hunting party then."  He added looking at Dizzy then Rook, figuring between him and Rook they could certainly keep an eye on Dizzy who had a tendency to wander off.

Of course, then Mal interceded, calling hunting a waste of time. Crash dramatically rolled his eyes at her.  "If you want to go to the city alone, then go. I want to eat and I doubt they just hand out food in the city. Hunting is fun, we need food to stay strong, we know where the food is here. The city isn't going anywhere."  Crash snapped back at her, he didn't want to take orders, he was free now, he didn't have to listen. He didn't like the way she stretched her wings out at him, was she trying to look bigger? It felt too much like a threat. Crash could get grumpy when hungry, back at the facility they would be due for breakfast around now.

[Assistant]
Rook rubbed his forehead, managing a smile at Crash. "I'm fine...I just need to stop getting lost in thought." He was going to ask about hunting, until Mal interjected. He listened to her in silence, then watched her fly off.

He stood there for a bit, processing what she said. She has a point, he thought to himself. Flick did say they needed to get to the city early, before everyone woke up. But Crash was right, too-there was no guarantee they could find food in the city, and they knew how to find food here. He looked between Crash and towards Mal in the sky, before opening his mouth. "She...has a point. If we are going to go into the city today, we need to go now." He paused, before looking at Crash. "I'm going to make sure she doesn't do anything rash, foolish. We will hunt soon, unless there is food in the city, as she says."

Looking up, he took a deep breath, spread his wings, and flew. "Join me, if you want to! He yelled down at Crash and the rest of the group, before taking off in Mal's direction, intent on making sure she didn't get herself killed.

[User]
Flick was going over game plans in his head. Get to the city limits and find a restaurant. His time out of the facility had taught him that cities produced a lot of waste, and restaurants produced food waste. He wasn't above eating out of the trash, and he doubted anyone else was at this point. Then, find clothes. He remembered there being these...bins that people would drop clothes off in to be given to others in need. Well, they were certainly in need. Then they could-

The others' bickering started to break his train of thought. Mal was threatening to run off on her own, and Crash, Dizzy, and Rook wanted to go hunting. Why did Rook want to go hunting? Flick took in a deep breath when he heard wings beating air, and sighed it out to channel his patience. He look up at Mal, hovering above them.

"Mal, don't start this early. Crash, Dizzy, Rook, hunting is not priority right now. We don't know this area well enough, and it'll take too long. We need to get going if we don't want to be seen."

Keeping these kids together was like herding cats sometimes. The irony of the statement was completely lost on Flick.

[Assistant]
Rook flew upwards with as much strength as he could muster, trying to close the distance quickly. This is not what we need right now..., he thought to himself. This whole situation was falling apart, everyone wanted to do something else. His priority now was to make sure Mal didn't fly off to the city by herself, as that could end horribly in many ways. They needed to work together, to co-ordinate. Finally, he flew up close to Mal, and paused, hovering.

"Mal...wait up..." He said in between deep breaths. "I know you want to go to the city-I do, too-but you can't run off alone. If you're going, then I'm going." He looked at her, folding his arms. He meant it- if she was going to run off to the city, he couldn't sit there as she put herself into a dangerous situation. Everyone here needed each other safe and alive, simple as that.

[User]
This course of action was lame, and not at all what Dizzy had in mind. He wanted more space, a moment to breathe without the Flock's issues weighing him down. He grumbled, stomach growling, and flapped his wings in irritation. Human cities were made of glass anyway right? They'd be seen either way! He sighed and rolled his eyes as he internally argued the merits of listening to Flick and ignoring him. The city would probably be interesting, but he'd rather explore it on a full stomach. Then again, splitting up would mean the others would be annoyed and maybe even leave him behind. He wouldn't put it past them either...

He eyed Crash speculatively. He could always go with plan B and take a chunk out of Crash if thing's got dicey.

Ooooooor he could go with plan A and go hunting like he wanted. "Maybe we can catch something on the way?" He wondered aloud, stroking his non-existent beard thoughtfully. If so then Flick could shove it while he made a fire and cooked it. Or just cook Flick.

He snickered, amused gaze sliding from Crash to Flick, and he tilted his head. Fine, he thought, but if I starve you're donating a pint to my stomach.

Then he grimaced as he realized his half baked plan to find a river to wash his wings in was never going to come to pass. "Ugh," he scoffed, "whatever, let's just be quick." Food was more active during the day anyway, if the city turned out to be a bore or a death trap then he'd go hunting later and the rest could go and suck on their glass towers or whatever it was they were doing.

What did they need from the city again? And how big was it? It wouldn't take long to look through right?

He mumbled something unintelligibly annoyed under his breath and leaped into the air, catching himself with a flutter of his wings before mulishly deciding not to wait for the rest to join him, vaguely aligning to follow the direction Mal and Rook had gone.


[System]
Nickname(s)
None, other than being called by her last name, Holland, which her family called a "name of the old world."

Age
24

Appearance
She stands at average height - around 5'5" - with straight, black hair that hangs down to her waist which she ties up in a knot or braid most days. She's thin like most in Subsection F, as having extra weight is a luxury that they can't afford, but working has given her some muscle she'd never had previously. If not in her work suit, she normally dresses in black to not draw attention to herself, especially with what's happening in the District. Among random scars, she has a few tattoos in hidden places as well as her ears stretched, a trend that had resurfaced in the subsection when she was a teenager.

Job Duty
Aura, as of three months ago, was demoted to Sanitation and Maintenance as a form of punishment. Originally, like her mother, she was in Service and Housekeeping, often traveling to the wealthier districts to serve as a maid. A family down by the beach had chosen her mother as their permanent maid two years ago, and Aura hasn't seen her since.

Faction Information
Although its officially named subsection F, many of its inhabitants refer to it as its previous name, Unity, chosen many years ago during the first rebellion, but the AA refuses to acknowledge it as such. It's the heart of the district, its epicenter, with its downtown area called Atlantic. Most of the job opportunities in the subsection are to be of service to other subsections - some among them being Service and Housekeeping, Sanitation and Maintenance, and a new opportunity, Apex Enforcement. It was the first time in years that the AA ever thought to recruit anyone from subsection F, but with how desperate some of its citizens are getting, its sold as a fantastic chance of leaving poverty. Most of Unity's inhabitants, though, frown upon anyone joining the AE. Rumors of rebellion rumble through the underground, but the AA hasn't had any solid proof...yet.

History
Aura grew up with her mother, father, and little brother Ion in a small home on the outskirts of the district, and though it was humble, it was full of love. Her brother and father still occupied the home, now growing crops for the entire District. She still visits often, especially when she needs a home-cooked meal, and her dad always insists on giving her an extra serving even though there isn't much to spare. Her father, though rebellious in his youth, was now a reformed man, insisting that things were the way they needed to be. This continually caused a riff between them, until Aura realized that he wasn't going to change. Talks of the second rebellion were no longer had at the dinner table.

While Aura was never a well-behaved child, her actions were to help her family. Since caught stealing bread at the age of 13, she had been under the eye of the AE, and has had numerous run-ins with them since.

[User]
The trek to her father's house was a blur, adrenaline and uncertainty pumping through Aura with each beat of her heart clapping in her ears. To keep her hostage from returning to her family home, she tossed her sweater over his head and guided him by looping one arm through his, while the other kept the gun pointed towards him. The rain had picked up, and the dirt floor of the crop fields had turned into a thick stretch of mud, causing her boots to stick with each step.

Bam. Bam. Bam.

The heavy wooden door only creaked open a couple of an inches with an eye peeking out.

"It's me."

Her father sighed, not opening the door any further. "What have you done?"

"I need the garage tonight. And two changes of clothes." Moments passed, with only silence and the patter of the rain to fill the void. "Please… I'm sorry."

"Be out by dawn," he huffed, followed by snapping the door shut. The man returned moments later with a sack that he tossed to her, giving no time for another word between them before shutting the door once again.

Once entering the garage, Aura forced the man into a seated position on the floor and removed her sweater from his head. The garage, detached by a few hundred feet from the home, held a tractor and other machinery, along with an array of tools that lined the back wall, a fold out cot, and a wooden desk. She hastily lit a couple of candles until the garage was illuminated with a dim, yellow light, then she grabbed a retrieved from the wall and threw it over her shoulder.

"You're changing first," she instructed, shoving a plain, large t-shirt and cotton pants into the man's hands, taking his bag in response and kicking it across the floor towards the cot. Her hand that held the gun trembled, unsure if it was from the frigid rain or her nerves, but her eyes shot to the ground in an attempt to give the man some privacy.

Once finished, she tied his arms behind him around a support beam that sat in the center of the garage, then grabbed her own change of clothes. These must have been Ion's, her younger brother, who towered over her much like the mystery man. She put the large t-shirt on, then slipped the wet clothes beneath off of her, then slid on the pants, then took their wet clothes and draped them over a chair to dry.

What would her endgame be here? If she let him go, he could kill her - or worse, notify the AA of her treason. He knew her name already… that she had family. She should have just shot him in the street when she had the chance.

Aura felt around in his bag and removed the gun, placing it gently on the ground next to hers. Next his paperwork, which for now, she just glanced over before setting placing them on the cot.

So," she sighed, crouching down in front of him. "A runner, huh?" Her eyes scanned him in curiosity. "Why are you in F?" Before continuing, Aura realized that she still hadn't had her one question answered since she had seen the man in front of Mae's tavern.

"What's your name?"

[Assistant]
Kieran continued to be accosted as he was held at gunpoint and continued to be pushed further and further from the town square. As she pushed him, Kieran made a note of every building, every street, and every inch of the area—until of course, she tossed a sweater over her head.

"Fucking really," Kieran muttered, unsure and uncaring if she had heard the comment. Luckily, the smell wasn't so bad, if it weren't for the sweat that had already been dripping down his face. He continued to trudge forward through the humid, muddy night. He tried to keep some sense of his bearings and figured they had gone maybe a ten or so blocks before he heard her bang thrice on a door.

He listened intently to the conversation Aura shared with a third voice. This one gruff, uncaring but…rather familiar. He figured this could be a close friend, or possibly a relative. He was unsure and would be sure to figure that one out later. As for now he ran through the facts.

This was Aura; likely associated with the same group the others were. She was armed. He had heard gunshots. Likely this all would have been enough to get her arrested (assuming he survived the night) but that wasn't his mission, was it?

He hated himself in some small way for thinking this way. He wasn't a spy, for fuck's sake—he was a runner, and his business was passing along shit and keeping a low profile.

Nothing about all of this seemed right. Apex Authority were no heroes. These so-called freedom fighters broke a strange peace and got others killed in their wake. The more he thought, the less he felt like picking any side in this horrid mess.

He expected blinding light when she removed the sweater from his head, but the dimness of the room was a simple sight to be acclimated to.

He locked eyes with her—looking down, of course, as she was several inches to a foot shorter—and could immediately spot something he was familiar with.

Fear.

He didn't see a fearless terrorist. He saw someone terrified out of their fucking mind about what was going on. Which immediately lowered his guard and put him at ease. If he played his cards right, he might not be the real hostage here.

As she tossed clothes in his hands, she took his bag and was sure to kick it hard away from them—which immediately put him at ease. He had been particularly careful to burn all evidence of the current mission and keep the Black Seal on his person rather than in an easily-stolen bag. In there wasn't much other than the usual ID papers and runner's stamp.

He gave he a cold look; wondering if she was going to watch him change. He watched her eyes dart to the floor, before removing his clothes. He was glad to be out of them, really. What a sweaty mess he was at this point. He made a point to turn his back to her and straighten out his underwear—ensuring Aura's eyes stayed away—and slipped the Black Seal from his trousers to his underwear. Uncomfortable indeed. He figured he would bet on her holding back on asking him to be completely naked. If she didn't he figured he'd have to find a good way to lie.

He placed the rest of the clothes on him and was tied promptly to a pole. He looked away as Aura changed, and watched her dig through his things.

"So," she sighed, crouching down in front of him. "A runner, huh? Why are you in F? What's your name?"

He figured he'd tackle her questions one at a time. He made sure to make clear eye contact through the sweat dripping down his face. Fuck, it was hot in here.

"Yeah, a runner," he said simply. "3B149, feel free to verify that on the sheet." He straightened up against the pole; trying to ward off a pain growing his back. "I have a couple of clients take me this far and was back in town to collect. Sure, I'm not supposed to be in F, but hey; what were you up to after curfew?"

He always laughed the last half of his sentence; breaking into a smile. His captor was looking increasingly shaky and tense; not great when she was two guns on her. He figured he could lean into his recent deal with Teegan and Cale and could get them to verify his story to Aura if need be.

"I'm Kieran," he smiled. "And I'm very much not looking to die tonight, so if we could work something out, I'm all ears."

While he was miles from trusting Aura, particularly now, he was certainly hoping to make an ally of her, after all. He wasn't exactly sure of the benefits of the alternative, but it certainly wouldn't be good for him, would it?

[User]
"Kieran," she mumbled in response. His demeanor was the most unnerving thing about him. He was calm and smiling, while Aura did everything she could to choke down the nausea bubbling in her stomach.

She had taken a runner hostage. A runner. The weight of her actions began to sink deep in her stomach, the heat of the garage beginning to suffocate the oxygen from the room. Aura dashed to the window, threw it open, and allowed herself a deep gulp of breath from the cooler air that poured in.

Could she somehow get a message to Gregor? Explain she had fucked up and that she needed help?

The thought of his temper made Aura shut down the thought instantly. No, she'd have to figure a way out of this herself. She couldn't lose her spot in the cause. They were her last chance of getting out of F for good. The only place she fit in.

But if the man got free, he would shoot her. If he didn't shoot her, he'd run until he could report her.

She was dead in the water in every outcome imaginable.

Aura turned from the window and moved to stand in front of him, hiding her trembling hands in the pockets of Ion's pants. "I won't -" Due to nerves, her voice left her body as a whisper. Get it together.

"I won't kill you," she responded, now reflecting a more confident tone. "I just…"

How could she get him on her side, at least long enough for her to figure out a plan?

"You, the mystery man, catch me in the middle of a firefight with an AR in my hands." She chuckled, wiping her forehead to rid it of sweat. "That would normally sound like a really fun night for me. But you're," Aura finally gained courage to look up at him, "you're a runner. You may as well be an enforcer."

Aura grabbed an empty pail from the corner and opened the garage door. "I'll be right back."

She soon returned, the pail now full of water. Before dealing with it, she plopped down and began to work her fingers at the laces of her sopping boots, groaning when each foot finally broke free.

"Thirsty?"

Without waiting for an answer, Aura grabbed the pail and approached him, lifting it to Kieran's lips.

Once done, she took a few gulps of it herself before making herself comfortable on the floor across from him.

"You want to leave here alive. As do I. And if I'm reported, you may as well kill me now." Aura scanned his face hoping for any hint of weakness, but the man was made of stone. Asshole. "So Kieran, what would you do if you were in my position?"


[System]
Alias: "Tank"
Gender: Male
Species: Human

Appearance: (preferred pic as long as it matches the Species)

5'10 260 lbs, muscled (not body builder muscle) body, brown hair, blue eyes.

Age: 29
Equipment:
 - Weapon(s)
 - Bayonet
 - Stun Baton

 - STRM "Getex" Long Barrel Railgun (MAG RAIL SNIPER RIFLE) - holographic/medium range scope /w Bayonet fixture.

 - Aurorex Armory Double Barrel shotgun (Saw off) - 8 gauge

 - STRM "Swat Special" Compact Assault rifle 5.56 with holographic sight

 - Armor
 - Remos Armory SWAT EOD Armor - Modified - A suit of EOD armor (Mix of Carbon Fiber and metal) With more Metal armor added to the front, and carbon added to the back to cushion explosions.

 - Modified Riot Shield - A Sturdy Metal Riot shield with a cut out of the top that seems perfect for a large rifle. with small pockets for ammunition and secondary firearms

Shield only

Personality:
 - Typically a happy individual, Sergey is seen as a honorable person, taking allegiances aside to keep innocents alive as what he has done serving in a rapid response
police force. Mainly a head on guy, he takes a direct approach with his fights. Trying to soak as much fire and attention so that his allies can flank or maneuver around to take out
hostile targets or secure innocent targets safety. He usually does not use his weapons as a lethal force, typically using his Mag Rifle as a terror weapon at close ranges. If needed he does have more lethal options such as a shotgun and compacted assault rifle for when he is overwhelmed or his allies/innocents are in danger of most kinds.

 - Outside of combat, he is rather calm, trying to stay to his routine of eating certain points of the day, keeping an 'light' exercise regime before going to do other things. Usually can be found watching soap opera's, doing metal work or finding something else to do to spend his time. He is generally friendly, open and kind to most around him. If something needs done, he will usually do it, he is extremely work oriented.

Bio: (Minimum of 3 paragraphs, must include some sort of military or combat background)

 Being from the outer rim he lived in the KoT with his mother being a secretary, and his father a police officer in a cities force.From a young age Sergey was a strong person, playing contact sports, getting into fights, and becoming a wrestler in school. He was suspended several times during his primary and secondary schooling. When he was almost out of school, he was able to gradate early not due to smarts, but because he just wanted to get done with it. When learning he had to go back to school or join the military to becoming a police officer, he decided to go to school as he was still below the age for the military or local defense force. Once finished with a lesser degree, he got married, and joined the police.

 He enjoyed his time in the police, after several years, he did break some of his bad habits, like fighting constantly, breaking things when he was angry, and drinking. Several years into his line of work, he became a swat officer out of boredom. Eventually when he was placed into schooling, he exited the back of his vehicle before it was blown up with three of his squad mates behind him. He was placed into hospital for minor things and was in a coma for several days. It was months before allowed to go back to work, so he was able to be trained for a new role he desired to be. An EOD, with the remaining swat unit he was in.

Recently, he was laid off for drinking again, a father who hasn't met his daughter and divorced. Seeing not much else to do since he was mainly shunned in his home city, he joined the Crimson Legion. More so out of wanderlust then anything. He is completely new to the legion, but he was recruited into it for his work in the police force swat team and skills at defusing and possibly fusing explosive devices of many kinds.

Relationships:
Mother - Olga R. Georgiy
Father - Alexi Georgiy
Ex-Wife - Hailey Ness
Daughter - Catherine Ness
Rachel (some accountant or HR rep or something) - Friend who recommended him to the Crimson Legion.

[User]
Lito had been in the Resistance's temporary base attempting to direct their movements through the ongoing battle through the city. With Lasminee's fortress surrounded and reporting two tanks in the vicinity Lito knew he wouldn't be able to keep giving orders and would have to step out onto the front lines himself. After giving control of the Resistance forces back to the "Leader" of the resistance Lito quickly mobilized with a squad of Resistance Elite making sure to take along a few toys that he had picked up to deal with those heavily armored pests.

With his Squad loaded up into an APC Lito placed himself on top of the APC inside his own battle suit. While approaching the Stronghold a report came through of 6 enemy Armored Suits making their way to the resistance forces. Knowing that their current forces wouldn't be able to hold them off telling his men to move faster Lito was ready to join the battle. Just as his targets came into sight Lito knoticed he had gotten into range of the Crimson Legion's comms system. "I hope you fellas weren't expecting to hog all the action for yourselves." he announced as he started to take aim at his targets. Raising his arm Lito took aim before firing a round from his rail gun. The shot struck one of the enemy Armored units center mass punching strait through the suit slumping it over for a moment before it exploded.

The Resistance APC nearly got knocked off course from the force of Lito's shot but it quickly pulled over Lito jumped off of the apc readying his auto cannon. "Alright boys show them what you got." he commented as the APC's back opened up and a group of Resistance troops poured out from it. Two of the troops ran out equipped with a pair of rocket launchers quickly taking aim and unleashing two shots at another of the armored troops. The trooper dodged one of the rockets sending the shot flying into a nearby building, but was stuck by the second damaging the suits systems and before it could react it was lit up as Lito unloaded into the suit with his auto cannon. It didn't take long for the suits systems to fail under the fire and again the pilot slumped down dead in his suit. The remaining four Armored troops quickly retreated into cover. "Time to turn the tide boys, light them up!" Lito yelled out in an attempt to rally the Resistance forces that had been under fire from the armored suits giving them the ability to reorganize and continue fighting.

[Assistant]
Gerad

Gerad listened to the comms as Cyne and Ducaliea made their way in and began to sow their brand of havoc amongst the enemies in the second line. While they did that, and the rest of them waited with the Resistance for the right time to move, he busied himself with some more repairs to the Chimera.
-
As the power armoured thugs moved in, he was moving out. "KRAK 'EM LADS!" He hollered to the nearby Resistance fighters. "ANY 'OW TAGS ME BUYS TH' DRINKS!" Despite their nervousness about the on coming fight, quite a few of the fighters laughed. Saving his dwindling PRP shots for the tank, he flashed laser fire at the thugs from behind his Barrier, sweeping the beam in arcs to try and tag them. Like the last batch they'd fought, these power armoured enemies where faster on their feet that one would normally expect, and the armour was tough enough to take glancing blows from his VLA.

Before he could really start to go to work, a voice cut into the company comms just as a mass driver punched a slug straight through one of the attackers. This seemed to be the signal for the Resistance, because as soon as that happened, they poured forwards unloading on the incoming hostiles. A second suit went down under autocannon fire from the power armoured Resistance leader after an anti-armour crew had gotten a good hit in themselves. Another suit juked madly to avoid the fire from the Resistance push and brought himself right into a perfect shot for Gerad.

The target window was only moments, but that was enough; the VLA struck a flex joint in the armour's torso, and in moments burned through causing an overload while at the same time disabling the computers. Instead of the plasma flair from the overload venting outwards, the damage made it vent into the armour. In less than two full seconds, the target was nothing more than a vaguely humanoid shaped pile of slag; this was all a moot point to the pilot however as the penetrating VLA beam had bisected his heart and killed him before the armour had even blown up.

[User]
Sergey more so stood at the door of his APC and he sighed as he held his shield, two of the fighters behind him had his large Railgun. "So, nice day isn't it?" He asked in his time waiting. Then he heard a few pings off the front, and the APC start to slow down a bit and then stopped. The door lowered as he entered the street taking his railgun and he heaved his large shield up in front of him placing it on his thick metal boot as he started to move it forward. His pace steady as he advanced slowly a small group of men standing behind him.

He turned his head to his ally on his side, Lito, "Friend, let us take the line like they tried to do, no?" he asked as he placed his rifle down on a small bit and just blindly fired hitting a wall somewhere in front of him, placing another bolt in there for when his next shot was available. He continued to press forward until he was at the line with the remain fighters from the armored troop charge, a soldier or two from behind them pulling what was left of the wounded behind the heavily armored man.

He more or less set himself up for being shot at, as he was used to, feeling his shield getting battered from the front as he held on until his job was done. The armored men in front of him slowly moved back as the first APC's occupants and rider had given them a nice barrage. "Now, keep them from my flank comrades." he said to those around him, "and pat me on the back once you are all finished with that you are needing to do, and we will get the hurt away from here."