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train · 2.2k rows

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23,800	685	21	1,072	4,551	Oui, s'il vous plaît, Aribelle a répondu à la question de Son. Ça n'a aucun sens de laisser un groupe de gens aléatoires dans la pièce pendant qu'elle profitait de sa fête. D'une part, cela pourrait rendre d'autant plus probable que quelqu'un empoisonnerait la nourriture. Même dans sa naïveté, elle le savait beaucoup. Elle avait l'impression qu'elle pouvait faire confiance à Alex, cependant, s'il voulait avoir la réunion à l'intérieur. Avant qu'elle n'atteigne la pièce, et c'était si proche maintenant aussi, elle était en fait de nouveau interrompue, mais c'était un visage familier. Elle ne pouvait pas refuser sa question. Après tout, c'était elle qui lui avait assigné une tâche aléatoire il y a un instant. Bien sûr qu'il pourrait avoir des questions pour elle. "Certaines de mes servantes seront certainement prêtes à vous aider dans cet endeaver pour être sûr. Pour ce qui est de l'endroit où, ils peuvent probablement trouver une pièce de rechange pour vous, mais en fait, mon ancienne chambre est maintenant vacante, alors que je suis passé aux chambres royales à partir de ce soir. C'est pratique parce que mon ancienne chambre est très proche de ma nouvelle. Vous pouvez remplir vos fonctions de garde pour elle et moi simultanément! C'est, bien sûr, si cette nouvelle mission n'est pas trop pour vous. Je sais que je l'ai mis sur toi du bleu et tout..."	Name- Sonorus "Son" Carver Age- 21 Gender- Male Race- Human Occupation- Queen's Adviser Appearance- -Yes, he does wear a black hood with garments all the time. A distinct feature of Sonorus is the tattoo located beneath his left eye. It is also noticeable that Sonorus' eyes are constantly red. Personality- Son often shows two characteristics. When facing those with higher authority than him, he is noticeably polite and humble; often saying praises and speaking in a low tone... However, when he faces those who are lower than him, his demeanor changes drastically. He, now, speaks in harsh and incessant words; gleefully spouting insults and grim words at those he faces. However, his position has an adviser, of course, speaks for his talents. Son is a shrewd person who, sometimes, dictates plans and/or actions which benefit him rather than the queen. By the way, Son has an immense hatred for dwarves, and will happily watch them burn. Magic- Touch of Decay Son's magic is a powerful yet dangerous ability. Anything that comes into contact with his skin will begin to decay if the contact is prolonged; ranging from metals to wood, as long as it touches his skin long enough, it will be reduced to a pile of ash. However, the limitations are quit obvious. He can only destroy things that he can actually touch, as well as, it would actually take a solid minute to completely decompose a target. Furthermore, assuming that he actually fully decomposed a target, he cannot decay anything else using the same body part for a longer duration. For example, Son completely decomposes a sword using his right hand, after decomposing, Son cannot decompose anything else using his right hand for a few minutes. Drawbacks are obvious as friendly fire can actually occur. That is why Son is careful not to touch any of his allies while his ability is active. There is also a VERY important weakness to Son's ability, which will be discussed in the later categories. Son's magic is sealed within the tattoo beneath his left eye, and as such, he can activate and deactivate his magic at will. People can know whether his magic is active or not by looking at his tattoo; if it's glowing, the magic is active, and by looking at Son's skin. If a skin is particularly BLACKish in color, then that part can cause decay. Abilities- Dagger Mastery- Son is a talented wielder of a dagger or a knife, and specializes in knife combat. He uses fake movements to feign weakness or attacks, only to recoil and strike somewhere else. Intelligence- Son has a decent level of intelligence which allows him to see through deception or other agendas by thinking hard about it. Culinary Mastery- Son is a talented chef, and as such, he sometimes prepares the queen's meals or snacks. Basic Medic Training- Son has some skill when it comes to first-aids or minor wounds, but beyond that, he is clueless. Weaknesses- As mentioned, there is a great flaw in Son's ability. For one, he can only send his ability of decomposition to a SINGLE body part at a time. Which means, after draining his right hand's ability to decompose, he needs to send it to other body parts in order to defend himself. This means that multiple opponents can greatly impede Son's ability as they can strike from multiple directions while Son can only channel his ability to one body part at a time. Furthermore, Son is secretly bound by an oath, as a result of his magic, to never tell anything untrue. Should Son say anything untrue, his body will begin to decay until he corrects the untruth. History: Before the untimely death of the king, in the army of the High Tower served two generals... Husband and Wife. Their names were long forgotten, or rather, the people chose to forget them because of the deed that they had done to dishonor the army. These two generals were sent to battle those cursed dwarves once more. The outcome was what they expected; a victory against those foul bastards. However, the wife was missing when the victory horn was sounded. The husband panicked, wishing to find his other half. According to scouts, they had last seen the female general battling a group of dwarves, and after that, she was missing over the moors. The man roared in anger as he gathered his entire battalion, much to the anger and refusal of the other generals, and led his troops to the moors to find his wife. Once they were at the moors, the man saw his wife's silhouette from the center of the marsh, and with that, he stepped forward to take a closer look. To the man's delight, it was his wife! However, another figure emerged from the shadows and stood behind the woman. It was as if time stopped at that moment. The man's desperate cries fell on deaf ears as a rusty knife was lifted into the air, and it cut through the wife's throat; the corpse of the fallen general slumped lifelessly to the murky waters; never to be seen again. The general was enraged; very enraged. Without thinking of anything else, he ordered his troops to charge the dwarf. The soldiers were reluctant but they advanced, only to realize that it was a trap... From the shadows of the trees and shrubbery, the dwarven scum emerged and began to cut down the alarmed humans. Long story short, out of the hundred men he took to the moors, only ten returned alive; the general included. The man knew that it was only a matter of time before he would be executed, and as such, he went to his son, Sonorus, that night. The son was extremely devastated by the events, and with only little to lose, the boy agreed to a forbidden ritual. The father sealed his own ability to his son, the magic of decay kept bound by a single tattoo which made residence beneath the boy's left eye. The father then called the boy 'Son', a name that the boy would keep as long as he lives. The rise of the morning sun also marked the fall of a head... the father's head. It rolled silently along the bloodstained ground as the executioner lifted it up and tossed it around those who hated the man... Unknown to them, Son was actually watching... his teeth gritted in rage, his eyes blazed with wrath at seeing the corpse of his father desecrated... From that moment on, he swore ruin upon the humans and dwarves alike... he did not have a true purpose, but those two objectives were what satisfied his unquenchable rage for the mean time. The boy worked his way up, taking the path of the kingdom's politicians... There, he bled and sweated day and night in order to get the highest position possible to manipulate the King... until, the king, himself, died. Son was quite devastated... who would he manipulate now? It would be hard... or would it? Apparently, the one who would succeed the throne is a young girl... a queen. Son smiled that night... this would be easy; his eyes shimmering in the moonlight, excited for what was to come from a naive but interesting woman.
23,801	685	22	686	2,548	(Sur mon téléphone Désolé pour le poste court et faible) La fille regardait autour de chaque endroit le gentil homme portait son creux, prenant toutes les choses jolies et impressionnantes. la chambre finale qu'ils entrèrent était grande et vraiment un spectacle pour la jeune fille. Puis elle entendit une voix qu'elle avait entendue auparavant. Je regardais la belle fille d'avant qu'elle ne fût encore une fois hypnotisée. Lentement, elle a atteint son bras, n'étant pas à la portée de la belle fille mais essayant toujours de toucher le visage des filles comme un enfant essayant de toucher un objet brillant ou un visage d'un être cher. la belle fille avait quelque chose qu'elle aimait tellement qu'elle avait l'impression qu'elle devait la toucher, même si c'était juste un peu	excuses for placing them now and not sooner, busy live Name- Azoth Gray Age- 21 Gender- male Race- Human Occupation- Wetboy (magic using assassin specializing with poisons but also good with swords and such) Appearance- Personality- , fearless, smart, WIP (big chance I will work this out during the rp if allowed) Magic- Yes, a Magic used by Wetboy's called the Talent, the magic uses the mana without using spells and works trough the users skin: it has a lot of functions depending on the user and the one that learned the user, such as: sticking and crawling on walls and ceilings, increasing strength, speed and agility (level is also depending on user's choices, Azoth tends to go towards speed and agility but has a higher strength currently due to the training he had gotten from his teacher that loved strength), each talent user can break light fall in dark areas and in the night making them hard to see, it was not invisibility but of people did not started to look for the weak points, they generally never see the person unless by pure chance, they can all walk without making a sound, see in the night perfectly and more as these things (have not thought everything out fully but this gives a pretty clear view of its limits and uses I think) Abilities- sword master, poison master, skilled assassin, able to act pretty good, good with secrets. Weaknesses- he tends to care for others what is a bad thing for his line of work, that is good but still, a little obsessive about the details of his job, when he gets stressed/ nervous and such things he starts eating raw garlic, having a special pouch for it, also has a habit to lock things 3x in a row before he is satisfied, always cautious, maybe a little to much, setting traps and so much more, trough this has kept him alive, trough he feels no fear he is also smart enough to take in risk and avoid dangers, but he can make calculation mistakes due to the lack of fear. History- Azoth was born in the slumps of the kingdom an area where prostitutes roamed the streets and most kids living on the streets were born and abandon by their prostitute mother. the kids only had each other to live and it was a hard live. Azoth by this time even had a different name but was secluded from the others so no one even knew it, they all just said "boy" or "kid" if they needed him, most this was to work together to mug a drunk man late at night. One day, when Azoth was 8, a man walked dressed in black walked trough the streets and for the first time the ambush failed, it did not take long before the kids realized the man was an assassin, and not long after did Azoth realized the man was more then an a mere assassin, whispering the word "wetboy" the man had apparently increased his hearing as he had heard Azoth, smiled and said yes to the boy trough he was hiding in the shadows, actually looking Azoth in his eyes. Then the man looked at the gang's leader and started to talk, explaining the ambush entire set up into detail and had everything right, then he asked the leader, who had thought this up, to which the leader pointed to Azoth. The man smiled again "smart kid" he said. He turned to face Azoth and sat down to look the boy into his eyes. most would be terrified but Azoth was not, he had experienced things enough to have lost his sense of fear, he was ready to die, and dying by the hands of a wetboy would be the closest he thought to die with a sense of honor, a wetboy would kill him, nothing better could happen to his live he thought. But things went different, the man smiled more, lifted Azoth's face, turned it to see all sides of his face and then whispered something Azoth had never thought he would ever hear "become my apprentice" Azoth had seen an escape from his current hell of a live and took it right away. from there on he exited one hell to enter an other one. the man had him training 8 hours a day, study 4 hours on poisons, train an other 3, the rest of the day were rests and free but at times the man even went so far as to give Azoth other lessons and such, hell the man even broke his sleep often by attacking Azoth while he was sleeping, teaching Azoth to be aware of his surroundings even sleeping. nothing came to him easy and the man was never satisfied, still Azoth grew at a high rate, learning magic faster then most due to the training the man gave him and in time Azoth started to get his own personal jobs, the first deader was to kill a lord and make it seem like a accident, something that almost went bad as a woman entered the room, Azoth was forced to kill her as well. he was not allowed to wash his hands after that until the blood had flaked of his hands by time, a sign that he truly has become a wetboy. he learned a lot from that, take some more time to observe the deader and his natural live so he knows what to expect and prevent the death of an innocent. then In time he had learned all he could learn and became independent, having to learn his own Talent skills and his own way of killing.
23,802	685	23	752	2,268	Rand regarda la nouvelle reine « Non M'lady cette mission est parfaite, je pense l'entraîner à être mon écuyer un esprit impressionnable est susceptible d'être utilisé en politique... » Il dit à la reine emmenant la jeune fille à plat dans sa nouvelle chambre et la plaçant sur son nouveau lit « Je te verrai le matin où je vais essayer de t'apprendre à marcher et à parler » Il lui dit et sortit de la salle fermant la porte derrière lui et se tenant en alerte comme une main de soldat Terracotta sur la pointe de ses yeux lames épineux pour regarder le danger.	Name-Rand Thorel Age- 24 Gender- Male Race- Human Occupation- Kings Knight (formerly) Queens Knight (present) Appearance- Is a broad shouldered mountain of a man standing very tall and very broad with black hair and streaks of white from the stresses of battle and politics, has a long scar running down his back. Personality-Rand is a grizzled war veteran fighting many wars before being knighted, he is a honorable man who believes in doing whats right as well as treating his opponents with honor and dignity. But he has a soft spot for his sister and the queen often letting either get away with what they wish. Magic- N/A Abilities- Blade Master:Rand is death incarnate on the battlefield with a sword, there are few like him. Tactician: As a knight sometimes you are required to lead, and Rand has led many sieges and battles before. Mounted Combat:there are very few who can match a knight on a horse. Weaknesses- Rand has a soft heart for his sister and the queen if they were to be targeted, he would become enraged or saddened History-Rand was born on a farm to two people who couldn't be happier to see him brought into the world, they taught Rand all he knew about the farm. At age seven his little sister Rose was brought into the world bringing the family of 3 up to 4,, although Rand was jealous at first of all the attention his sister was getting his father sat him down and told him about all the happiness she could bring into the family. This made Rand much happier and for seven years they were inseparable, he taught his sister all he knew about the farm in that time until a rival kingdom came to the farm and set upon it. Rand and his little sister hid nearby and Rand watched as they slaughtered their family burned down the farm and salted the earth after witnessing the horror that went on, him and his sister set out for town. When they got to the small little hamlet Rand left his sister in the care of a trusted family friend, and joined the military at age 15 he had gone through training and was officially a soldier in the military a man-at-arms for the kingdom. He fought in many battles against the kingdoms enemies and was acknowledged for his heroism in many sieges, at age 17 he was taken in to be a knights squire and the old knight taught him how to be a master with the blade, how to become one with your sword arm and through him Rand became a great swordsmen striking fear into the hearts of his enemies, with his master on the battlefield. Eventually at age 23 getting himself knighted by the king himself, but feeling alone and empty after years of blood shed he sought out his sister. And eventually found her he used his pull in the castle to get his sister a job as the youngest princesses personal servant. And there they were they hadn't seen each other in six years and together they were again him and his sister caught up on all the things they missed in each others lives, and when the king died Rand swore his blade in the service to the queen promising to protect her with his life.
23,803	685	24	249	249	Geralt tourna sa tasse tranquillement dans sa main et prit une perruque si souvent qu'il regarda les choses autour de la pièce. Jusqu'à présent, rien ne s'était produit qui lui ferait agir et il se contentait d'observer. La majorité du personnel du château le connaissait et lui donnait un grand poste d'amarrage. Bien sûr, la famille royale le connaissait aussi, il avait été un ami proche du défunt roi et ils le verraient souvent dans le palais. En ce qui concerne le Ranger, les frères et sœurs royaux n'avaient aucune mauvaise pensée pour lui, mais cela n'avait guère d'importance. Son arc était pour la Reine et il a répondu à non autre. Ce personnage de Goliath, a noté Geralt, semblait bien s'intégrer dans son rouleau de garde du corps. Sa première impression était que le gage de loyauté des grands hommes était sincère et qu'il avait de bonnes intentions... Mais la route des enfers a été pavée de bonnes intentions et Geralt garderait un oeil sur l'homme comme il a fait tout le monde dans le château. Le roi Wildred lui avait toujours dit : "Geralt, tu es trop paranoïaque. Il y a des gens bien dans le monde que tu sais" Et Geralt étoufferait habituellement le commentaire avec un léger sourire. Il portait ce sourire maintenant, alors qu'il se rappelait son cher ami. Le Ranger secoua la tête comme pour secouer la nostalgie et revenir au présent. Il a descendu le contenu de sa tasse et l'a posé sur la table avant de se rendre à la Reine. Il s'inclina la tête en respect. "Votre grâce. Félicitations pour votre couronnement. Ton père était un grand homme et un grand roi. Je sais que vous allez suivre ses traces et devenir une reine encore plus grande. » Geralt fit signe à Goliath d'une salutation silencieuse.	Name- Geralt Montegue Age- 34 Gender- Male Race- Human Occupation- Kings (or Queens) Ranger Appearance- Geralt is a man of average size at 5'10. His muscles, while not as built as a knights, are fine toned from years of training and experience. His hair is a dark brown and shoulder length. The Rangers eyes are an unusual shade of gray and coupled with his thousand yard stare, make an intimidating sight to behold. A short, grizzled beard marks his face and leaves an appearance of rugged charm. He can usually be seen wearing (if he's seen at all) simple brown trousers and tunic with leather gauntlets and boots. A short sword hangs at each hip and beneath his forest green cloak there is a quiver of arrows strapped to his back. The Rangers bow, while not in hand, is slung over his shoulder. Personality- Geralt, while outwardly grim and unapproachable, is actually a rather pleasant individual. Sarcastic and witty with a bit of mysterious charm. The Ranger is known by many in the court by reputation alone and friend to few. The late King himself was a friend to Geralt and his death weighs heavily on the Ranger. But he is a man of duty and his services have passed to the Queen. Magic- N/A Abilities- Geralt is a master of stealth. His comings and goings are noticed only if he wishes them to be. As one would expect, the Ranger is also skilled with a bow and throwing knives. He is also a proficient tracker. Weaknesses- Close combat. With his dual short swords, Geralt is an above average swordsman but nowhere near as skilled as say a Knight would be. History- "There has always been a need for a King to have scouts, spies, and messengers. A Ranger is all of these things and more." Those were his fathers first words to him upon the start of his Ranger training. Geralt would hear similar philosophies from his father through the course of his training, which took place from his 14th birthday until he was 21. During this training, he spent endless hours creeping through the forests surrounding the capitol and even through the streets. Another integral part of training was learning to track. Geralt cannot count how many practice trails his father created for his training or how many animals he tracked and killed with his bow. He took to archery rather quickly, by the time he was 17 Geralt could peg a sprinting deer with a kill shot at a hundred yards. His father, Roland, was one of the Kings most trusted advisors and scouts. Of course there were other Rangers, Spies, Assassins.. but none of them held in high regard as Roland. And it was a sad day indeed when the old Ranger passed and left Geralt to carry on his legacy only a year after he'd completed training. And so began his mission to live up to his fathers reputation and over the last ten years, Geralt has done quite well for himself. At the ripe old age of 34, Geralt is one of the most prominent Rangers alive. Even the Elves recognize his exceptional marksmanship and forestry skills. The death of the King had a profound effect on the Ranger however and his demeanor has darkened considerably to those who know him. To the younger members of the court Geralt is just a grumpy old sneak. He's pledged his loyalty to the young Queen however, trusting in the daughter of his old Friend to rule with justice. Geralt has assumed a more passive role lately and hasn't left the castle in some days now, keeping a watchful eye on all who seek audience with the Queen.
23,804	685	25	324	1,204	Rose Thorel ~ Rose regardait la reine avec un vrai sourire pendant qu'elle travaillait. À des moments comme ceux-ci Rose a souhaité qu'elle ait un statut plus élevé afin qu'elle puisse féliciter Aribelle sans qu'il soit inapproprié. Cependant, étant le serviteur de la reine, personne ne la remarquerait jamais. C'était quelque chose dont elle avait désespérément besoin. Sa magie était un secret et elle aimerait la garder comme ça. Protéger la reine des limites était quelque chose qu'elle venait de faire. Ses pensées n'arrêtaient pas de dériver vers la fille d'avant. La fille était certainement intéressante. Rose espérait pouvoir lui parler plus tard. Rand, étant en charge de la fille, l'espère. Après tout, ils étaient frères et sœurs. Peut-être que Rose pourrait même aider la fille. Rand ne pouvait certainement pas tout faire lui-même, c'était un homme. Elle est sortie de ses pensées et a repris le travail. Ce serait tout à fait embarrassant pour elle de faire une erreur, surtout ce soir. Princesse Serena~ Serena a mangé son dîner tranquillement. Ses yeux regardaient tout ce qui se passait, mais ses lèvres restaient scellées. C'était le boulot de sa sœur maintenant et Serena ne voulait pas tout gâcher. Elle a joué avec sa nourriture pendant un moment. De temps en temps, elle a établi un contact visuel avec Finn, le prince elfe. Des événements comme ceux-ci semblaient durer pour toujours. Un cercle sans fin. Elle soupirait. Pourquoi les choses devaient-elles être si compliquées? Elle secoua légèrement la tête et prit une gorgée de verre. Au moins, la nourriture était délicieuse, elle pensait à elle-même.	Name- Princess Serena Grandhelm of Estoria Age- 21 Gender- female Race- human Occupation- Eldest princess of kingdom Estoria Personality- Serena is adventurous and brave. She tends to speak her mind whenever she believes in something, despite the consequences. She is far from your average princess. In public, Serena pretends to be delicate and courteous. She hates letting people down and is extremely hard working. Serena also has her gentle side. She is extremely compassionate and loving but tends to hide that side from others. Magic- No magic Abilities- She is wickedly smart, from being raised with the best education in the kingdom. She extremely virtuous and loves music. However, only her sister Aribelle knows about her passion. Weaknesses- Although Serena’s personality is strong, she lacks a physical fighting ability. She is small and puny. History- Serena is the eldest princess of Grandhelm. She grew up as a stubborn and strong minded princess. She hates to follow the punctilious rules of being a princess but she still tries her best. She thought her life would be the same boring princess life forever. Until she met Finn, an Elf prince visiting the kingdom. Finn was a new opportunity for Serena to have an adventurous life. Serena fell in love right away. When the king passed away, Serena was devastated and afraid. She spent a lot of time with her younger sister, Aribelle, as they got through the hard times. Having an older sibling, Serena never thought she would get the opportunity to become the queen of the kingdom. Until her brother denied the throne and Serena was offered it. Due to the discrimination against elves, Serena knew she couldn’t be the queen and be with Finn. The decision wasn't hard for Serena, she knew where her heart stood. She decided to reject the offer and be with Finn, even though their love was in secret. ***************************************************************** Name- Rose Thorel Age- 17 Gender- female Race- Human Occupation- Personal servant to the queen Personality- Rose loves her family and friends. She has a caring and sweet heart for everyone around her. She always tries to make people smile and enjoy themselves. She hates seeing people sad or upset. Rose is also very protective of her love ones. She will never stand by and watch them get hurt. She always does her best to protect them with her gift, even if they are unaware of her saving them. Magic- Rose is a witch in secret. She is not like other witches, she was born able to use magic without training. She is an exception to the world of magic. Rose is able to perform spells from her spell book and also has the gift to see glimpses into the future. Abilities- She is able to cheer up most people by her affectionate aura. She is also one of the best seamstresses in the kingdom. She makes good money sewing for people. Weaknesses- Rose has gigantic weakness for her brother Rand and the queen. If anyone is in trouble, she will always try to save them, even if it means putting her life at risk. History- Rose grew up as a farmer in the outskirts of the kingdom. Her brother Rand and her had a wonderful childhood, full of happy and cheery memories. Until a neighboring rival kingdom attacked their farm when Rose was seven. They burnt their cozy home and murdered their parents. Rand escaped with Rose to a village where he left her, in the hands of a friendly and considerate old woman named Elisabeth, to join the military. There Rose embraced her gift of magic. When she lived with her parents, they kept her ability secret from everyone, including her brother Rand. The closest neighbor was four miles away, so it wasn’t difficult to keep her magic private. Elisabeth was a witch herself, except not nearly as powerful as Rose was. Elisabeth taught Rose how to control her magic and use it wisely. Rose used Elisabeth’s spell book and eventually inherited it herself. Rose also learned how to sew from Elisabeth, a talent she continues to do. When Rose was 16 years old, her brother Rand, now 23, came back for her. She returned to the kingdom and now lives with Rand. They became closer than ever. Rand found a job for Rose in the kingdom where she met princess Aribelle and instantly became friends with her. Soon after, Rose began getting visions of Aribelle being the new queen. Somehow, Rose knew she needed to protect her, so became Aribelle’s personal servant. About a year later, Rose’s vision came true and Aribelle took the throne. Rose knows that Aribelle will become a powerful queen, but whether she will be good or evil is unknown. Rose uses her secret gift to watch over the queen and protect her from evil lurking in unknown places.
23,805	685	26	2,232	2,604	Finn mangea son dîner et conversa avec d'autres rois qui étaient autour de lui. Il a continué à voler des regards sur la princesse Serena, espérons que personne ne l'a remarqué. Il n'était pas très positif ce qui s'était passé à l'extérieur de la salle à manger, mais il semblait que la Reine l'avait bien géré. Il savait qu'elle serait en danger. Il n'était pas sûr, mais il devait la surveiller de près. Si elle mourait, son successeur n'aurait peut-être pas envie d'accepter l'aide des Elfes, ce qui rapprocherait son peuple et celui de Serena. Peut-être qu'il pourrait en parler à Serena après le dîner s'ils en avaient l'occasion.	Name- Prince Finn Audalian of the Illinor Woods Age- 21 Gender-Male Race- Elf Occupation- Prince Appearance- Minus the dragon of course lol. Personality-Finn is extremely smart and clever, often getting into intent discussions or verbal battles with his siblings. He's extremely loyal to those he cares about but is also bent on doing the right thing. He has a tendency to try to please anyone who reminds him of his father. Magic- Yes. Finn's magic is limited to being able to move things without touching them. However he can't lift anything heavier than a knight in some heavy armor without getting a massive headache. Abilities- Finn is an excellent swordfighter and an amazing marksman. He has won many tournaments in his kingdom with those skills. He's also a skilled strategist and was often called upon by his father to help him with troop movements in the recently concluded civil war between Northern and Southern Illinor Woods. Finn is also very agile and a master climber. He is often seen scaling the towers of the castle at home and anywhere else he desires to reach the top of. Weaknesses- Finn can tend to think with his heart at times, often disregarding tradition and his reputation to do whats right. Once he sacrificed a tournament so a poor elf could win the 5,000 gold prize, even though his father had had the family's reputation riding on Finn's winning. Finn would also sacrifice himself to save a loved one even if it was a stupid decision. History- Finn is the firstborn of King Nessimon Audalian of the Illinor Woods. Finn has lived a privileged life and was doted on by his mother, Queen Arwen, almost constantly. Finn was often neglected by his father until he was old enough to fight and prove himself, which lead to Finn having a subconcious desire to please people like his father. Finn, unlike his father, harbors no hatred for humans and often questions why they don't have diplomatic relations with Estoria. After Finn's 17th birthday King Nessimon sent him to the kingdom of Estoria to gather info on the ailing king there he met the king's oldest daughter and they began a relationship that was forced to be kept a secret lest his father finds out or her kingdom, who seems to despise elves and magic users.
23,806	685	27	658	1,163	Alex mangeait de la nourriture à table avec les autres rois. Alex a remarqué que l'Elf King était assis de l'autre côté de la table. Alex a remarqué que le roi n'arrêtait pas de regarder quelqu'un. Alex a continué à essayer de suivre les yeux du roi et finalement Alex a vu que le roi elfe regardait la princesse Serena. Alex fut surpris et sourit à lui-même pendant qu'il mangeait.	Name- King Alexander Gildone Age- 24 Gender- Male Race- Human Occupation- King of a Kaer Appearance- Personality- calm collective and somewhat mysterious Magic- no Abilities- he is really good at strategy, and a strong fighter with a sword Weaknesses- does not know magic, doesn't like talking about his father's stepping down from the throne. History- Alex had a tough life growing up. His father trained him to be a King from a young age. The training was hard and strict. Alex didn't understand until he turned 21 and his father told him that he was stepping down from the throne and Alex was taking his place. The reason why his father stepped down is still only known by the royal family, which has created some rumors going around the Kingdom. This made it harder for Alex to rule, but over a few years he was able to win the people over. When the King died Alex knew that he would have to set up another treaty with the new queen, so he traveled to the kingdom to talk to the new queen about the future of trade in between the two kingdoms.
23,807	685	28	686	2,548	La fille avait une fois de plus continué à regarder autour pendant qu'elle était portée, puis l'homme l'a amené dans un grand, mais plus petit espace alors tout ce qu'elle avait vu jusqu'à maintenant. Soudain, elle a été placée sur une grande chose douce et moelleuse (un lit). Le gentil homme a commencé à s'en aller et a fermé la porte. Pendant tout ce temps elle regardait l'homme avec un visage triste, ne voulant pas qu'il parte. Alors que la porte fermait, elle voulait ramper vers la chose en bois qui fermait l'espace, mais n'osait pas s'en emparer, craignant qu'elle tombe à plat sur son visage. À partir de ce moment-là, se sentant enfermée comme un animal en cage et abandonnée, elle se mit à sangloter doucement tout en creusant son visage dans un truc blanc moelleux qui était sur le gros truc moelleux (un oreiller) jusqu'à ce qu'elle s'endorme... ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Azoth, s'ennuyant de la fête ennuyeuse, avait commencé à errer dans le château, soit ceux à l'intérieur, y compris les invités, avaient obtenu la permission d'aller librement dans les salles, ou il y avait une sorte de pause de sécurité, puisque la fille était entrée dans le bâtiment d'une manière ou d'une autre et il marchait dans les salles librement sans garde l'arrêtant. Finalement, il est venu dans un couloir où il y avait vraiment un garde debout entre 2 portes. Il a reconnu l'homme d'avant où il a aidé la pauvre fille. Comme il avait vu des filles dans la même misère, il voulait savoir ce qu'elles lui avaient fait. "Que s'est-il passé avec la fille?"	excuses for placing them now and not sooner, busy live Name- Azoth Gray Age- 21 Gender- male Race- Human Occupation- Wetboy (magic using assassin specializing with poisons but also good with swords and such) Appearance- Personality- , fearless, smart, WIP (big chance I will work this out during the rp if allowed) Magic- Yes, a Magic used by Wetboy's called the Talent, the magic uses the mana without using spells and works trough the users skin: it has a lot of functions depending on the user and the one that learned the user, such as: sticking and crawling on walls and ceilings, increasing strength, speed and agility (level is also depending on user's choices, Azoth tends to go towards speed and agility but has a higher strength currently due to the training he had gotten from his teacher that loved strength), each talent user can break light fall in dark areas and in the night making them hard to see, it was not invisibility but of people did not started to look for the weak points, they generally never see the person unless by pure chance, they can all walk without making a sound, see in the night perfectly and more as these things (have not thought everything out fully but this gives a pretty clear view of its limits and uses I think) Abilities- sword master, poison master, skilled assassin, able to act pretty good, good with secrets. Weaknesses- he tends to care for others what is a bad thing for his line of work, that is good but still, a little obsessive about the details of his job, when he gets stressed/ nervous and such things he starts eating raw garlic, having a special pouch for it, also has a habit to lock things 3x in a row before he is satisfied, always cautious, maybe a little to much, setting traps and so much more, trough this has kept him alive, trough he feels no fear he is also smart enough to take in risk and avoid dangers, but he can make calculation mistakes due to the lack of fear. History- Azoth was born in the slumps of the kingdom an area where prostitutes roamed the streets and most kids living on the streets were born and abandon by their prostitute mother. the kids only had each other to live and it was a hard live. Azoth by this time even had a different name but was secluded from the others so no one even knew it, they all just said "boy" or "kid" if they needed him, most this was to work together to mug a drunk man late at night. One day, when Azoth was 8, a man walked dressed in black walked trough the streets and for the first time the ambush failed, it did not take long before the kids realized the man was an assassin, and not long after did Azoth realized the man was more then an a mere assassin, whispering the word "wetboy" the man had apparently increased his hearing as he had heard Azoth, smiled and said yes to the boy trough he was hiding in the shadows, actually looking Azoth in his eyes. Then the man looked at the gang's leader and started to talk, explaining the ambush entire set up into detail and had everything right, then he asked the leader, who had thought this up, to which the leader pointed to Azoth. The man smiled again "smart kid" he said. He turned to face Azoth and sat down to look the boy into his eyes. most would be terrified but Azoth was not, he had experienced things enough to have lost his sense of fear, he was ready to die, and dying by the hands of a wetboy would be the closest he thought to die with a sense of honor, a wetboy would kill him, nothing better could happen to his live he thought. But things went different, the man smiled more, lifted Azoth's face, turned it to see all sides of his face and then whispered something Azoth had never thought he would ever hear "become my apprentice" Azoth had seen an escape from his current hell of a live and took it right away. from there on he exited one hell to enter an other one. the man had him training 8 hours a day, study 4 hours on poisons, train an other 3, the rest of the day were rests and free but at times the man even went so far as to give Azoth other lessons and such, hell the man even broke his sleep often by attacking Azoth while he was sleeping, teaching Azoth to be aware of his surroundings even sleeping. nothing came to him easy and the man was never satisfied, still Azoth grew at a high rate, learning magic faster then most due to the training the man gave him and in time Azoth started to get his own personal jobs, the first deader was to kill a lord and make it seem like a accident, something that almost went bad as a woman entered the room, Azoth was forced to kill her as well. he was not allowed to wash his hands after that until the blood had flaked of his hands by time, a sign that he truly has become a wetboy. he learned a lot from that, take some more time to observe the deader and his natural live so he knows what to expect and prevent the death of an innocent. then In time he had learned all he could learn and became independent, having to learn his own Talent skills and his own way of killing.
23,808	685	29	1,072	4,551	Aribelle était sur le point de se retirer alors que la jeune fille sortait pour lui faire un coup de visage, mais elle a décidé de ne pas le faire, ne sentant aucune intention malveillante dans ses actions. Les gardiens semblaient être à l'avant-garde de cette interaction, mais n'ont rien fait d'autre que de serrer leurs armes plus étroitement et de surveiller avec appréhension nerveuse. La jeune fille a ensuite été emmenée dans ses quartiers et Aribelle a pu enfin se rendre dans la salle à manger. Elle voudrait voir plus de cette fille plus tard, mais pour l'instant tout ce qu'elle voulait voir c'était ces délicieux rouleaux de sueur. « Merci », a-t-elle dit à la ranger, assise sur son siège à l'avant de la table. Sans plus d'adieu, elle a creusé dans son repas avec beaucoup de gustance, sans se soucier de la façon dont elle a été vue par les autres. Elle était habituée à de bons repas donc ce n'était pas trop spécial autre que le fait qu'il était si longtemps attendu et une partie d'une cérémonie spéciale. Alors que le repas se terminait, certains commençaient à partir pour exécuter les plans qu'ils avaient en réserve pour le reste de la journée, laissant la table de plus en plus nue à la fois des gens et les grandes quantités de nourriture qui s'amenuisait lentement vers les restes de table. Aribelle s'est assurée d'aider à manger beaucoup de restes, en s'emparant de tout ce qui l'intéressait. À ce stade, elle aurait normalement préféré aller dans sa chambre et se détendre, mais maintenant elle avait du travail à faire. Elle s'est tournée vers Alex, s'assurant de mâcher tout ce qu'elle avait dans la bouche avant de parler. "Alors, il semble que vous aimeriez étendre votre main dans une alliance entre nos deux royaumes afin de combattre les forces dwarven?" Elle a posé des questions, ce qui était plus juste pour aborder le sujet.	Name- Sonorus "Son" Carver Age- 21 Gender- Male Race- Human Occupation- Queen's Adviser Appearance- -Yes, he does wear a black hood with garments all the time. A distinct feature of Sonorus is the tattoo located beneath his left eye. It is also noticeable that Sonorus' eyes are constantly red. Personality- Son often shows two characteristics. When facing those with higher authority than him, he is noticeably polite and humble; often saying praises and speaking in a low tone... However, when he faces those who are lower than him, his demeanor changes drastically. He, now, speaks in harsh and incessant words; gleefully spouting insults and grim words at those he faces. However, his position has an adviser, of course, speaks for his talents. Son is a shrewd person who, sometimes, dictates plans and/or actions which benefit him rather than the queen. By the way, Son has an immense hatred for dwarves, and will happily watch them burn. Magic- Touch of Decay Son's magic is a powerful yet dangerous ability. Anything that comes into contact with his skin will begin to decay if the contact is prolonged; ranging from metals to wood, as long as it touches his skin long enough, it will be reduced to a pile of ash. However, the limitations are quit obvious. He can only destroy things that he can actually touch, as well as, it would actually take a solid minute to completely decompose a target. Furthermore, assuming that he actually fully decomposed a target, he cannot decay anything else using the same body part for a longer duration. For example, Son completely decomposes a sword using his right hand, after decomposing, Son cannot decompose anything else using his right hand for a few minutes. Drawbacks are obvious as friendly fire can actually occur. That is why Son is careful not to touch any of his allies while his ability is active. There is also a VERY important weakness to Son's ability, which will be discussed in the later categories. Son's magic is sealed within the tattoo beneath his left eye, and as such, he can activate and deactivate his magic at will. People can know whether his magic is active or not by looking at his tattoo; if it's glowing, the magic is active, and by looking at Son's skin. If a skin is particularly BLACKish in color, then that part can cause decay. Abilities- Dagger Mastery- Son is a talented wielder of a dagger or a knife, and specializes in knife combat. He uses fake movements to feign weakness or attacks, only to recoil and strike somewhere else. Intelligence- Son has a decent level of intelligence which allows him to see through deception or other agendas by thinking hard about it. Culinary Mastery- Son is a talented chef, and as such, he sometimes prepares the queen's meals or snacks. Basic Medic Training- Son has some skill when it comes to first-aids or minor wounds, but beyond that, he is clueless. Weaknesses- As mentioned, there is a great flaw in Son's ability. For one, he can only send his ability of decomposition to a SINGLE body part at a time. Which means, after draining his right hand's ability to decompose, he needs to send it to other body parts in order to defend himself. This means that multiple opponents can greatly impede Son's ability as they can strike from multiple directions while Son can only channel his ability to one body part at a time. Furthermore, Son is secretly bound by an oath, as a result of his magic, to never tell anything untrue. Should Son say anything untrue, his body will begin to decay until he corrects the untruth. History: Before the untimely death of the king, in the army of the High Tower served two generals... Husband and Wife. Their names were long forgotten, or rather, the people chose to forget them because of the deed that they had done to dishonor the army. These two generals were sent to battle those cursed dwarves once more. The outcome was what they expected; a victory against those foul bastards. However, the wife was missing when the victory horn was sounded. The husband panicked, wishing to find his other half. According to scouts, they had last seen the female general battling a group of dwarves, and after that, she was missing over the moors. The man roared in anger as he gathered his entire battalion, much to the anger and refusal of the other generals, and led his troops to the moors to find his wife. Once they were at the moors, the man saw his wife's silhouette from the center of the marsh, and with that, he stepped forward to take a closer look. To the man's delight, it was his wife! However, another figure emerged from the shadows and stood behind the woman. It was as if time stopped at that moment. The man's desperate cries fell on deaf ears as a rusty knife was lifted into the air, and it cut through the wife's throat; the corpse of the fallen general slumped lifelessly to the murky waters; never to be seen again. The general was enraged; very enraged. Without thinking of anything else, he ordered his troops to charge the dwarf. The soldiers were reluctant but they advanced, only to realize that it was a trap... From the shadows of the trees and shrubbery, the dwarven scum emerged and began to cut down the alarmed humans. Long story short, out of the hundred men he took to the moors, only ten returned alive; the general included. The man knew that it was only a matter of time before he would be executed, and as such, he went to his son, Sonorus, that night. The son was extremely devastated by the events, and with only little to lose, the boy agreed to a forbidden ritual. The father sealed his own ability to his son, the magic of decay kept bound by a single tattoo which made residence beneath the boy's left eye. The father then called the boy 'Son', a name that the boy would keep as long as he lives. The rise of the morning sun also marked the fall of a head... the father's head. It rolled silently along the bloodstained ground as the executioner lifted it up and tossed it around those who hated the man... Unknown to them, Son was actually watching... his teeth gritted in rage, his eyes blazed with wrath at seeing the corpse of his father desecrated... From that moment on, he swore ruin upon the humans and dwarves alike... he did not have a true purpose, but those two objectives were what satisfied his unquenchable rage for the mean time. The boy worked his way up, taking the path of the kingdom's politicians... There, he bled and sweated day and night in order to get the highest position possible to manipulate the King... until, the king, himself, died. Son was quite devastated... who would he manipulate now? It would be hard... or would it? Apparently, the one who would succeed the throne is a young girl... a queen. Son smiled that night... this would be easy; his eyes shimmering in the moonlight, excited for what was to come from a naive but interesting woman.
23,809	685	30	752	2,268	Rand regarda l'homme étrange : "Je l'avais baignée, habillée et mise au lit." Il a dit regarder l'homme et se sentir mal à l'aise il a saisi la poignée de sa lame encore plus serrée mais n'a montré absolument aucune émotion "C'est autant que je peux vous dire." Il a dit à l'homme à plat et a regardé les deux extrémités du couloir avant de reprendre sa statue comme position son visage vide comme un masque.	Name-Rand Thorel Age- 24 Gender- Male Race- Human Occupation- Kings Knight (formerly) Queens Knight (present) Appearance- Is a broad shouldered mountain of a man standing very tall and very broad with black hair and streaks of white from the stresses of battle and politics, has a long scar running down his back. Personality-Rand is a grizzled war veteran fighting many wars before being knighted, he is a honorable man who believes in doing whats right as well as treating his opponents with honor and dignity. But he has a soft spot for his sister and the queen often letting either get away with what they wish. Magic- N/A Abilities- Blade Master:Rand is death incarnate on the battlefield with a sword, there are few like him. Tactician: As a knight sometimes you are required to lead, and Rand has led many sieges and battles before. Mounted Combat:there are very few who can match a knight on a horse. Weaknesses- Rand has a soft heart for his sister and the queen if they were to be targeted, he would become enraged or saddened History-Rand was born on a farm to two people who couldn't be happier to see him brought into the world, they taught Rand all he knew about the farm. At age seven his little sister Rose was brought into the world bringing the family of 3 up to 4,, although Rand was jealous at first of all the attention his sister was getting his father sat him down and told him about all the happiness she could bring into the family. This made Rand much happier and for seven years they were inseparable, he taught his sister all he knew about the farm in that time until a rival kingdom came to the farm and set upon it. Rand and his little sister hid nearby and Rand watched as they slaughtered their family burned down the farm and salted the earth after witnessing the horror that went on, him and his sister set out for town. When they got to the small little hamlet Rand left his sister in the care of a trusted family friend, and joined the military at age 15 he had gone through training and was officially a soldier in the military a man-at-arms for the kingdom. He fought in many battles against the kingdoms enemies and was acknowledged for his heroism in many sieges, at age 17 he was taken in to be a knights squire and the old knight taught him how to be a master with the blade, how to become one with your sword arm and through him Rand became a great swordsmen striking fear into the hearts of his enemies, with his master on the battlefield. Eventually at age 23 getting himself knighted by the king himself, but feeling alone and empty after years of blood shed he sought out his sister. And eventually found her he used his pull in the castle to get his sister a job as the youngest princesses personal servant. And there they were they hadn't seen each other in six years and together they were again him and his sister caught up on all the things they missed in each others lives, and when the king died Rand swore his blade in the service to the queen promising to protect her with his life.
23,810	685	31	324	1,204	Princesse Serena~ Serena se leva de son siège et courbée, s'éloignant du dîner. Elle s'est rendue dans sa chambre, mais elle est allée à côté du jardin du château, espérant que Finn suivrait bientôt. Le jardin était l'un des endroits préférés de Serena dans toute la caslte. Une belle fontaine s'est assise au milieu avec des milliers de belles fleurs qui l'entourent. Ses yeux se fermaient alors qu'elle sentait le parfum délicieux des fleurs. Sa fleur préférée était la rose blanche, et à sa demande le jardin en avait plusieurs dans une petite zone remplie avec eux à proximité du banc. Elle s'assit et se pencha la tête en arrière, profitant du jardin et attendant son prince Elf spécial. Rose Thorel ~ Rose a fini son travail et est partie pour la maison. Elle se demandait si son frère était encore en service. Sachant à quel point il était dévoué, Rand regardait sans doute toujours la fille. Rose soupirait mais ses lèvres souriaient. Le dévouement de Rand a rendu Rose fière d'être sa sœur. Rose se demandait si Rand dînait encore. Elle a commencé à préparer le dîner pour lui. Leur maison n'était pas vraiment grande, mais elle n'était pas petite non plus. Il avait tout ce dont ils avaient besoin et était confortable aussi. Après avoir fini de cuisiner de la soupe de pommes de terre, elle l'a enveloppée et a commencé à revenir vers le château. Elle agita quelques amis qui revenaient de leur propre festin pendant qu'elle marchait. Rose a deviné que la fille serait placée dans une pièce au château et se dirigeait vers eux. Rapidement, elle a trouvé son frère et a agité. "Salut Rand, comment va le travail? Je t'ai apporté quelque chose." Elle sourit et lui donna le dîner qu'elle avait préparé. "Comment va la fille?" Elle a demandé curieusement "Umm.. Avez-vous besoin d'aide avec elle?" Rose a dû admettre qu'elle n'était pas venue pour nourrir son frère. Elle voulait savoir pour cette fille et qui elle était. J'espère que son frère l'aidera, même s'il ne savait pas ce qu'elle faisait. Rose ne savait même pas elle-même pourquoi elle était si curieuse à propos de cette fille. C'était juste quand elle l'a vue, cette sensation de froid l'a remplie. C'était quelque chose que Rose avait juste besoin de comprendre.	Name- Princess Serena Grandhelm of Estoria Age- 21 Gender- female Race- human Occupation- Eldest princess of kingdom Estoria Personality- Serena is adventurous and brave. She tends to speak her mind whenever she believes in something, despite the consequences. She is far from your average princess. In public, Serena pretends to be delicate and courteous. She hates letting people down and is extremely hard working. Serena also has her gentle side. She is extremely compassionate and loving but tends to hide that side from others. Magic- No magic Abilities- She is wickedly smart, from being raised with the best education in the kingdom. She extremely virtuous and loves music. However, only her sister Aribelle knows about her passion. Weaknesses- Although Serena’s personality is strong, she lacks a physical fighting ability. She is small and puny. History- Serena is the eldest princess of Grandhelm. She grew up as a stubborn and strong minded princess. She hates to follow the punctilious rules of being a princess but she still tries her best. She thought her life would be the same boring princess life forever. Until she met Finn, an Elf prince visiting the kingdom. Finn was a new opportunity for Serena to have an adventurous life. Serena fell in love right away. When the king passed away, Serena was devastated and afraid. She spent a lot of time with her younger sister, Aribelle, as they got through the hard times. Having an older sibling, Serena never thought she would get the opportunity to become the queen of the kingdom. Until her brother denied the throne and Serena was offered it. Due to the discrimination against elves, Serena knew she couldn’t be the queen and be with Finn. The decision wasn't hard for Serena, she knew where her heart stood. She decided to reject the offer and be with Finn, even though their love was in secret. ***************************************************************** Name- Rose Thorel Age- 17 Gender- female Race- Human Occupation- Personal servant to the queen Personality- Rose loves her family and friends. She has a caring and sweet heart for everyone around her. She always tries to make people smile and enjoy themselves. She hates seeing people sad or upset. Rose is also very protective of her love ones. She will never stand by and watch them get hurt. She always does her best to protect them with her gift, even if they are unaware of her saving them. Magic- Rose is a witch in secret. She is not like other witches, she was born able to use magic without training. She is an exception to the world of magic. Rose is able to perform spells from her spell book and also has the gift to see glimpses into the future. Abilities- She is able to cheer up most people by her affectionate aura. She is also one of the best seamstresses in the kingdom. She makes good money sewing for people. Weaknesses- Rose has gigantic weakness for her brother Rand and the queen. If anyone is in trouble, she will always try to save them, even if it means putting her life at risk. History- Rose grew up as a farmer in the outskirts of the kingdom. Her brother Rand and her had a wonderful childhood, full of happy and cheery memories. Until a neighboring rival kingdom attacked their farm when Rose was seven. They burnt their cozy home and murdered their parents. Rand escaped with Rose to a village where he left her, in the hands of a friendly and considerate old woman named Elisabeth, to join the military. There Rose embraced her gift of magic. When she lived with her parents, they kept her ability secret from everyone, including her brother Rand. The closest neighbor was four miles away, so it wasn’t difficult to keep her magic private. Elisabeth was a witch herself, except not nearly as powerful as Rose was. Elisabeth taught Rose how to control her magic and use it wisely. Rose used Elisabeth’s spell book and eventually inherited it herself. Rose also learned how to sew from Elisabeth, a talent she continues to do. When Rose was 16 years old, her brother Rand, now 23, came back for her. She returned to the kingdom and now lives with Rand. They became closer than ever. Rand found a job for Rose in the kingdom where she met princess Aribelle and instantly became friends with her. Soon after, Rose began getting visions of Aribelle being the new queen. Somehow, Rose knew she needed to protect her, so became Aribelle’s personal servant. About a year later, Rose’s vision came true and Aribelle took the throne. Rose knows that Aribelle will become a powerful queen, but whether she will be good or evil is unknown. Rose uses her secret gift to watch over the queen and protect her from evil lurking in unknown places.
23,811	685	32	752	2,268	Rand regarda sa sœur et, pour la première fois toute la journée détendu, il descendit les mains de son côté et sourit : « Eh bien oui, je pourrais avoir besoin d'aide avec elle comme si une nana ne savait rien du monde, j'ai l'intention de la prendre comme mon écuyer mais et de lui enseigner autant que je peux au sujet de l'honneur, avant que ce conseiller ne voie une opportunité. » Rand a dit à sa sœur : "Ooo, c'est de la nourriture?" Il a demandé à prendre une énorme cuillère de la soupe "Hot, hot, hot." Il riait et regardait sa sœur sourire encore comme un idiot.	Name-Rand Thorel Age- 24 Gender- Male Race- Human Occupation- Kings Knight (formerly) Queens Knight (present) Appearance- Is a broad shouldered mountain of a man standing very tall and very broad with black hair and streaks of white from the stresses of battle and politics, has a long scar running down his back. Personality-Rand is a grizzled war veteran fighting many wars before being knighted, he is a honorable man who believes in doing whats right as well as treating his opponents with honor and dignity. But he has a soft spot for his sister and the queen often letting either get away with what they wish. Magic- N/A Abilities- Blade Master:Rand is death incarnate on the battlefield with a sword, there are few like him. Tactician: As a knight sometimes you are required to lead, and Rand has led many sieges and battles before. Mounted Combat:there are very few who can match a knight on a horse. Weaknesses- Rand has a soft heart for his sister and the queen if they were to be targeted, he would become enraged or saddened History-Rand was born on a farm to two people who couldn't be happier to see him brought into the world, they taught Rand all he knew about the farm. At age seven his little sister Rose was brought into the world bringing the family of 3 up to 4,, although Rand was jealous at first of all the attention his sister was getting his father sat him down and told him about all the happiness she could bring into the family. This made Rand much happier and for seven years they were inseparable, he taught his sister all he knew about the farm in that time until a rival kingdom came to the farm and set upon it. Rand and his little sister hid nearby and Rand watched as they slaughtered their family burned down the farm and salted the earth after witnessing the horror that went on, him and his sister set out for town. When they got to the small little hamlet Rand left his sister in the care of a trusted family friend, and joined the military at age 15 he had gone through training and was officially a soldier in the military a man-at-arms for the kingdom. He fought in many battles against the kingdoms enemies and was acknowledged for his heroism in many sieges, at age 17 he was taken in to be a knights squire and the old knight taught him how to be a master with the blade, how to become one with your sword arm and through him Rand became a great swordsmen striking fear into the hearts of his enemies, with his master on the battlefield. Eventually at age 23 getting himself knighted by the king himself, but feeling alone and empty after years of blood shed he sought out his sister. And eventually found her he used his pull in the castle to get his sister a job as the youngest princesses personal servant. And there they were they hadn't seen each other in six years and together they were again him and his sister caught up on all the things they missed in each others lives, and when the king died Rand swore his blade in the service to the queen promising to protect her with his life.
23,812	685	33	658	1,163	Alex se tourna vers la Reine et dit : « Une alliance profiterait grandement à nos deux royaumes, non seulement dans la guerre, mais aussi dans le commerce. » Alex sourit alors et dit : « Après tout votre royaume est entre nous et le plus grand village portuaire du pays » Le sourire d'Alex disparut alors qu'il disait : « Bien qu'il y ait une autre question dont je voudrais vous parler lorsque nous avons une certaine intimité. » Alex avait le plan à l'arrière de sa tête, il avait besoin de faire sortir ces utilisateurs magiques de ce petit village et dans le royaume pour aider dans la guerre, le seul problème, ils sont dans le Royaume des Reines, mais ils jurent fidélité à Kaer, ce qui fait d'eux des traîtres à la Reine.	Name- King Alexander Gildone Age- 24 Gender- Male Race- Human Occupation- King of a Kaer Appearance- Personality- calm collective and somewhat mysterious Magic- no Abilities- he is really good at strategy, and a strong fighter with a sword Weaknesses- does not know magic, doesn't like talking about his father's stepping down from the throne. History- Alex had a tough life growing up. His father trained him to be a King from a young age. The training was hard and strict. Alex didn't understand until he turned 21 and his father told him that he was stepping down from the throne and Alex was taking his place. The reason why his father stepped down is still only known by the royal family, which has created some rumors going around the Kingdom. This made it harder for Alex to rule, but over a few years he was able to win the people over. When the King died Alex knew that he would have to set up another treaty with the new queen, so he traveled to the kingdom to talk to the new queen about the future of trade in between the two kingdoms.
23,813	685	34	2,232	2,604	Finn a remarqué que Serena quittait la salle à manger et il s'est vite excusé. Il la suivit jusqu'au jardin où il la vit admirer les roses blanches qu'elle aimait. Quand elle a pris place sur le banc de pierre, il s'est levé et l'a ramassée, la jetant en l'air avant de l'attraper de nouveau. Il sourit un sourire roguish avant d'embrasser sa main. Voir Serena a toujours apporté un sourire à son visage et souvent il perdait du temps avec elle. "C'est bon de te revoir. Avez-vous apprécié la fête de mon amour?" Finn a demandé, en lui souriant.	Name- Prince Finn Audalian of the Illinor Woods Age- 21 Gender-Male Race- Elf Occupation- Prince Appearance- Minus the dragon of course lol. Personality-Finn is extremely smart and clever, often getting into intent discussions or verbal battles with his siblings. He's extremely loyal to those he cares about but is also bent on doing the right thing. He has a tendency to try to please anyone who reminds him of his father. Magic- Yes. Finn's magic is limited to being able to move things without touching them. However he can't lift anything heavier than a knight in some heavy armor without getting a massive headache. Abilities- Finn is an excellent swordfighter and an amazing marksman. He has won many tournaments in his kingdom with those skills. He's also a skilled strategist and was often called upon by his father to help him with troop movements in the recently concluded civil war between Northern and Southern Illinor Woods. Finn is also very agile and a master climber. He is often seen scaling the towers of the castle at home and anywhere else he desires to reach the top of. Weaknesses- Finn can tend to think with his heart at times, often disregarding tradition and his reputation to do whats right. Once he sacrificed a tournament so a poor elf could win the 5,000 gold prize, even though his father had had the family's reputation riding on Finn's winning. Finn would also sacrifice himself to save a loved one even if it was a stupid decision. History- Finn is the firstborn of King Nessimon Audalian of the Illinor Woods. Finn has lived a privileged life and was doted on by his mother, Queen Arwen, almost constantly. Finn was often neglected by his father until he was old enough to fight and prove himself, which lead to Finn having a subconcious desire to please people like his father. Finn, unlike his father, harbors no hatred for humans and often questions why they don't have diplomatic relations with Estoria. After Finn's 17th birthday King Nessimon sent him to the kingdom of Estoria to gather info on the ailing king there he met the king's oldest daughter and they began a relationship that was forced to be kept a secret lest his father finds out or her kingdom, who seems to despise elves and magic users.
23,814	685	35	324	1,204	Princesse Serena~ Serena s'est entachée de rires alors que Finn l'a jetée en l'air. Ses joues rougissaient quand le prince de l'elfe lui a embrassé la main. Passer du temps avec Finn était merveilleux, elle pensait sourire. "Ce serait mieux si j'étais capable de le dépenser avec toi." Elle a enveloppé ses bras autour de son cou "Pouvons-nous sortir demain? Juste nous deux. Quelque part aventurier." Elle s'est sortie de ses bras et elle s'est mise à rire. Serena a commencé à sauter de façon ludique à travers le jardin. Rose Thorel ~ Rose était un peu troublée par ce que Rand a dit. "Qu'est-ce que ce conseiller a à voir avec elle? La reine t'a chargé d'elle." Après avoir eu une prémonition flippante sur le conseiller, elle ne lui a jamais fait confiance. La vision ne lui a pas vraiment parlé de lui. C'était Fils qui riait malicieusement, tout autour de lui était sombre. Ça lui a donné les frissons d'y penser. Rose s'est assurée de le surveiller depuis. "De toute façon, la fille, tu ne penses pas qu'elle a juste besoin d'un peu d'amour? Je veux dire, c'est une fille après tout. Elle a besoin d'apprendre à s'habiller bien sûr, ses manières, et bien plus encore. Je ne veux pas vous insulter, mais je crois qu'il est plus important d'apprendre à être une fille avant même de penser à l'armure. Je serais heureux d'aider. Elle dort? Puis-je la voir?" Rose a demandé avec un regard inquiet. Elle s'inquiétait pour la fille. Tout ce que Rose pourrait faire pour aider, elle le ferait.	Name- Princess Serena Grandhelm of Estoria Age- 21 Gender- female Race- human Occupation- Eldest princess of kingdom Estoria Personality- Serena is adventurous and brave. She tends to speak her mind whenever she believes in something, despite the consequences. She is far from your average princess. In public, Serena pretends to be delicate and courteous. She hates letting people down and is extremely hard working. Serena also has her gentle side. She is extremely compassionate and loving but tends to hide that side from others. Magic- No magic Abilities- She is wickedly smart, from being raised with the best education in the kingdom. She extremely virtuous and loves music. However, only her sister Aribelle knows about her passion. Weaknesses- Although Serena’s personality is strong, she lacks a physical fighting ability. She is small and puny. History- Serena is the eldest princess of Grandhelm. She grew up as a stubborn and strong minded princess. She hates to follow the punctilious rules of being a princess but she still tries her best. She thought her life would be the same boring princess life forever. Until she met Finn, an Elf prince visiting the kingdom. Finn was a new opportunity for Serena to have an adventurous life. Serena fell in love right away. When the king passed away, Serena was devastated and afraid. She spent a lot of time with her younger sister, Aribelle, as they got through the hard times. Having an older sibling, Serena never thought she would get the opportunity to become the queen of the kingdom. Until her brother denied the throne and Serena was offered it. Due to the discrimination against elves, Serena knew she couldn’t be the queen and be with Finn. The decision wasn't hard for Serena, she knew where her heart stood. She decided to reject the offer and be with Finn, even though their love was in secret. ***************************************************************** Name- Rose Thorel Age- 17 Gender- female Race- Human Occupation- Personal servant to the queen Personality- Rose loves her family and friends. She has a caring and sweet heart for everyone around her. She always tries to make people smile and enjoy themselves. She hates seeing people sad or upset. Rose is also very protective of her love ones. She will never stand by and watch them get hurt. She always does her best to protect them with her gift, even if they are unaware of her saving them. Magic- Rose is a witch in secret. She is not like other witches, she was born able to use magic without training. She is an exception to the world of magic. Rose is able to perform spells from her spell book and also has the gift to see glimpses into the future. Abilities- She is able to cheer up most people by her affectionate aura. She is also one of the best seamstresses in the kingdom. She makes good money sewing for people. Weaknesses- Rose has gigantic weakness for her brother Rand and the queen. If anyone is in trouble, she will always try to save them, even if it means putting her life at risk. History- Rose grew up as a farmer in the outskirts of the kingdom. Her brother Rand and her had a wonderful childhood, full of happy and cheery memories. Until a neighboring rival kingdom attacked their farm when Rose was seven. They burnt their cozy home and murdered their parents. Rand escaped with Rose to a village where he left her, in the hands of a friendly and considerate old woman named Elisabeth, to join the military. There Rose embraced her gift of magic. When she lived with her parents, they kept her ability secret from everyone, including her brother Rand. The closest neighbor was four miles away, so it wasn’t difficult to keep her magic private. Elisabeth was a witch herself, except not nearly as powerful as Rose was. Elisabeth taught Rose how to control her magic and use it wisely. Rose used Elisabeth’s spell book and eventually inherited it herself. Rose also learned how to sew from Elisabeth, a talent she continues to do. When Rose was 16 years old, her brother Rand, now 23, came back for her. She returned to the kingdom and now lives with Rand. They became closer than ever. Rand found a job for Rose in the kingdom where she met princess Aribelle and instantly became friends with her. Soon after, Rose began getting visions of Aribelle being the new queen. Somehow, Rose knew she needed to protect her, so became Aribelle’s personal servant. About a year later, Rose’s vision came true and Aribelle took the throne. Rose knows that Aribelle will become a powerful queen, but whether she will be good or evil is unknown. Rose uses her secret gift to watch over the queen and protect her from evil lurking in unknown places.
23,815	685	36	686	2,548	Azoth en avait assez entendu, la fille était sauvée et se faisait soigner gentiment. Il sourit alors qu'il s'éloignait, mais il remarqua une jeune femme marchant et agitant vers le garde qu'il avait parlé à 2 secondes auparavant. Alors qu'elle marchait devant lui, Azoth marchait dans l'ombre, utilisant son talent pour briser la lumière et le faire disparaître principalement. Aussi, il a utilisé son talent pour améliorer son audition afin d'écouter leur conversation, presque éclatant de rire quand le gardien a brûlé sa pince, mais presque n'était pas assez, il sans le rire et resté silencieux et toujours à l'ombre d'un pilier. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- La jeune fille a soudain commencé à se réveiller, des marques de déchirures étaient visibles sur ses joues alors qu'elle levait la tête et regardait la chose en bois. Elle entendait des voix, 1 était l'homme gentil, l'autre était une femme qu'elle ne reconnaissait pas. Mais ce ne sont pas les voix qui l'ont réveillée, non c'était un envoyé, l'envoi de nourriture et elle n'avait pas mangé depuis qu'elle s'était réveillée dans ce lieu étrange comme plante (forêt)	excuses for placing them now and not sooner, busy live Name- Azoth Gray Age- 21 Gender- male Race- Human Occupation- Wetboy (magic using assassin specializing with poisons but also good with swords and such) Appearance- Personality- , fearless, smart, WIP (big chance I will work this out during the rp if allowed) Magic- Yes, a Magic used by Wetboy's called the Talent, the magic uses the mana without using spells and works trough the users skin: it has a lot of functions depending on the user and the one that learned the user, such as: sticking and crawling on walls and ceilings, increasing strength, speed and agility (level is also depending on user's choices, Azoth tends to go towards speed and agility but has a higher strength currently due to the training he had gotten from his teacher that loved strength), each talent user can break light fall in dark areas and in the night making them hard to see, it was not invisibility but of people did not started to look for the weak points, they generally never see the person unless by pure chance, they can all walk without making a sound, see in the night perfectly and more as these things (have not thought everything out fully but this gives a pretty clear view of its limits and uses I think) Abilities- sword master, poison master, skilled assassin, able to act pretty good, good with secrets. Weaknesses- he tends to care for others what is a bad thing for his line of work, that is good but still, a little obsessive about the details of his job, when he gets stressed/ nervous and such things he starts eating raw garlic, having a special pouch for it, also has a habit to lock things 3x in a row before he is satisfied, always cautious, maybe a little to much, setting traps and so much more, trough this has kept him alive, trough he feels no fear he is also smart enough to take in risk and avoid dangers, but he can make calculation mistakes due to the lack of fear. History- Azoth was born in the slumps of the kingdom an area where prostitutes roamed the streets and most kids living on the streets were born and abandon by their prostitute mother. the kids only had each other to live and it was a hard live. Azoth by this time even had a different name but was secluded from the others so no one even knew it, they all just said "boy" or "kid" if they needed him, most this was to work together to mug a drunk man late at night. One day, when Azoth was 8, a man walked dressed in black walked trough the streets and for the first time the ambush failed, it did not take long before the kids realized the man was an assassin, and not long after did Azoth realized the man was more then an a mere assassin, whispering the word "wetboy" the man had apparently increased his hearing as he had heard Azoth, smiled and said yes to the boy trough he was hiding in the shadows, actually looking Azoth in his eyes. Then the man looked at the gang's leader and started to talk, explaining the ambush entire set up into detail and had everything right, then he asked the leader, who had thought this up, to which the leader pointed to Azoth. The man smiled again "smart kid" he said. He turned to face Azoth and sat down to look the boy into his eyes. most would be terrified but Azoth was not, he had experienced things enough to have lost his sense of fear, he was ready to die, and dying by the hands of a wetboy would be the closest he thought to die with a sense of honor, a wetboy would kill him, nothing better could happen to his live he thought. But things went different, the man smiled more, lifted Azoth's face, turned it to see all sides of his face and then whispered something Azoth had never thought he would ever hear "become my apprentice" Azoth had seen an escape from his current hell of a live and took it right away. from there on he exited one hell to enter an other one. the man had him training 8 hours a day, study 4 hours on poisons, train an other 3, the rest of the day were rests and free but at times the man even went so far as to give Azoth other lessons and such, hell the man even broke his sleep often by attacking Azoth while he was sleeping, teaching Azoth to be aware of his surroundings even sleeping. nothing came to him easy and the man was never satisfied, still Azoth grew at a high rate, learning magic faster then most due to the training the man gave him and in time Azoth started to get his own personal jobs, the first deader was to kill a lord and make it seem like a accident, something that almost went bad as a woman entered the room, Azoth was forced to kill her as well. he was not allowed to wash his hands after that until the blood had flaked of his hands by time, a sign that he truly has become a wetboy. he learned a lot from that, take some more time to observe the deader and his natural live so he knows what to expect and prevent the death of an innocent. then In time he had learned all he could learn and became independent, having to learn his own Talent skills and his own way of killing.
23,816	685	37	752	2,268	Rand leva les sourcils à sa sœur. « Son fils a probablement quelque chose de prévu à moins que quelque chose ne le distrait, et vous êtes plus que bienvenu pour rendre visite à la fille, alors entrez. » Il a dit d'ouvrir la porte et de lui coller la tête et de voir la fille était réveillée "Ahhh, tu es réveillé, qu'est-ce que tu penses que nous devrions faire avec sa Rose?" Il est entré dans la chambre et est parti sur le côté donnant de la place pour sa sœur.	Name-Rand Thorel Age- 24 Gender- Male Race- Human Occupation- Kings Knight (formerly) Queens Knight (present) Appearance- Is a broad shouldered mountain of a man standing very tall and very broad with black hair and streaks of white from the stresses of battle and politics, has a long scar running down his back. Personality-Rand is a grizzled war veteran fighting many wars before being knighted, he is a honorable man who believes in doing whats right as well as treating his opponents with honor and dignity. But he has a soft spot for his sister and the queen often letting either get away with what they wish. Magic- N/A Abilities- Blade Master:Rand is death incarnate on the battlefield with a sword, there are few like him. Tactician: As a knight sometimes you are required to lead, and Rand has led many sieges and battles before. Mounted Combat:there are very few who can match a knight on a horse. Weaknesses- Rand has a soft heart for his sister and the queen if they were to be targeted, he would become enraged or saddened History-Rand was born on a farm to two people who couldn't be happier to see him brought into the world, they taught Rand all he knew about the farm. At age seven his little sister Rose was brought into the world bringing the family of 3 up to 4,, although Rand was jealous at first of all the attention his sister was getting his father sat him down and told him about all the happiness she could bring into the family. This made Rand much happier and for seven years they were inseparable, he taught his sister all he knew about the farm in that time until a rival kingdom came to the farm and set upon it. Rand and his little sister hid nearby and Rand watched as they slaughtered their family burned down the farm and salted the earth after witnessing the horror that went on, him and his sister set out for town. When they got to the small little hamlet Rand left his sister in the care of a trusted family friend, and joined the military at age 15 he had gone through training and was officially a soldier in the military a man-at-arms for the kingdom. He fought in many battles against the kingdoms enemies and was acknowledged for his heroism in many sieges, at age 17 he was taken in to be a knights squire and the old knight taught him how to be a master with the blade, how to become one with your sword arm and through him Rand became a great swordsmen striking fear into the hearts of his enemies, with his master on the battlefield. Eventually at age 23 getting himself knighted by the king himself, but feeling alone and empty after years of blood shed he sought out his sister. And eventually found her he used his pull in the castle to get his sister a job as the youngest princesses personal servant. And there they were they hadn't seen each other in six years and together they were again him and his sister caught up on all the things they missed in each others lives, and when the king died Rand swore his blade in the service to the queen promising to protect her with his life.
23,817	685	38	324	1,204	Rose Thorel ~ Rose a suivi son frère dans les chambres des filles. Encore une fois, un étrange sentiment mystérieux rempli Rose. Qu'est-ce que c'était? Elle a regardé la fille de la tête aux pieds. Elle cheveux bruns courts et foncés.Les dents étaient bienées dans ses yeux qui attristaient Rose. Cette pauvre fille a dû être enfermée ici, effrayée, confuse et seule. Rose sortit son mouchoir et marcha lentement vers la fille, ne voulant pas l'effrayer. Délicatement, elle a essuyé les larmes du visage des filles. Rose lui sourit sincèrement. "Je m'appelle Rose, je vais t'aider." Rose a dit : "Savez-vous parler? C'est bon si tu ne peux pas. N'ayez pas peur, je vous promets de ne pas vous blesser.Avez-vous un nom?" Rose a entendu un bruit de grognement venant de l'estomac des filles. "Rand? Tu ne la nourris pas? Elle est probablement affamée." Rose a attiré son attention sur Rand."J'ai apporté deux portions, juste au cas où vous en voudriez plus." Elle a sorti une seconde aide à la soupe de pommes de terre. Rose tenait le bol et soufflait dessus, espérant montrer à la fille qu'il faisait chaud. Elle a encore soufflé sur la soupe et a mouvementé de ses mains pour que la fille fasse de même. "Il fait chaud, alors s'il vous plaît soyez prudent." Rose a mis la soupe sur les genoux des filles. Rose a également démontré comment utiliser la cuillère en bois. Ce n'était pas une connaissance commune de la façon de former un adulte comment vivre, en gros, mais Rose essayait d'aider cette fille.	Name- Princess Serena Grandhelm of Estoria Age- 21 Gender- female Race- human Occupation- Eldest princess of kingdom Estoria Personality- Serena is adventurous and brave. She tends to speak her mind whenever she believes in something, despite the consequences. She is far from your average princess. In public, Serena pretends to be delicate and courteous. She hates letting people down and is extremely hard working. Serena also has her gentle side. She is extremely compassionate and loving but tends to hide that side from others. Magic- No magic Abilities- She is wickedly smart, from being raised with the best education in the kingdom. She extremely virtuous and loves music. However, only her sister Aribelle knows about her passion. Weaknesses- Although Serena’s personality is strong, she lacks a physical fighting ability. She is small and puny. History- Serena is the eldest princess of Grandhelm. She grew up as a stubborn and strong minded princess. She hates to follow the punctilious rules of being a princess but she still tries her best. She thought her life would be the same boring princess life forever. Until she met Finn, an Elf prince visiting the kingdom. Finn was a new opportunity for Serena to have an adventurous life. Serena fell in love right away. When the king passed away, Serena was devastated and afraid. She spent a lot of time with her younger sister, Aribelle, as they got through the hard times. Having an older sibling, Serena never thought she would get the opportunity to become the queen of the kingdom. Until her brother denied the throne and Serena was offered it. Due to the discrimination against elves, Serena knew she couldn’t be the queen and be with Finn. The decision wasn't hard for Serena, she knew where her heart stood. She decided to reject the offer and be with Finn, even though their love was in secret. ***************************************************************** Name- Rose Thorel Age- 17 Gender- female Race- Human Occupation- Personal servant to the queen Personality- Rose loves her family and friends. She has a caring and sweet heart for everyone around her. She always tries to make people smile and enjoy themselves. She hates seeing people sad or upset. Rose is also very protective of her love ones. She will never stand by and watch them get hurt. She always does her best to protect them with her gift, even if they are unaware of her saving them. Magic- Rose is a witch in secret. She is not like other witches, she was born able to use magic without training. She is an exception to the world of magic. Rose is able to perform spells from her spell book and also has the gift to see glimpses into the future. Abilities- She is able to cheer up most people by her affectionate aura. She is also one of the best seamstresses in the kingdom. She makes good money sewing for people. Weaknesses- Rose has gigantic weakness for her brother Rand and the queen. If anyone is in trouble, she will always try to save them, even if it means putting her life at risk. History- Rose grew up as a farmer in the outskirts of the kingdom. Her brother Rand and her had a wonderful childhood, full of happy and cheery memories. Until a neighboring rival kingdom attacked their farm when Rose was seven. They burnt their cozy home and murdered their parents. Rand escaped with Rose to a village where he left her, in the hands of a friendly and considerate old woman named Elisabeth, to join the military. There Rose embraced her gift of magic. When she lived with her parents, they kept her ability secret from everyone, including her brother Rand. The closest neighbor was four miles away, so it wasn’t difficult to keep her magic private. Elisabeth was a witch herself, except not nearly as powerful as Rose was. Elisabeth taught Rose how to control her magic and use it wisely. Rose used Elisabeth’s spell book and eventually inherited it herself. Rose also learned how to sew from Elisabeth, a talent she continues to do. When Rose was 16 years old, her brother Rand, now 23, came back for her. She returned to the kingdom and now lives with Rand. They became closer than ever. Rand found a job for Rose in the kingdom where she met princess Aribelle and instantly became friends with her. Soon after, Rose began getting visions of Aribelle being the new queen. Somehow, Rose knew she needed to protect her, so became Aribelle’s personal servant. About a year later, Rose’s vision came true and Aribelle took the throne. Rose knows that Aribelle will become a powerful queen, but whether she will be good or evil is unknown. Rose uses her secret gift to watch over the queen and protect her from evil lurking in unknown places.
23,818	685	39	686	2,548	La fille n'a regardé que la femme, n'ayant pas peur ou quoi que ce soit. La femme se sentait un peu bizarre, comme si elle était différente, mais ça ne lui faisait pas peur. Alors que son visage était essuyé et que la femme lui souriait, elle lui souriait, cela semblait être une femme étrange. La plupart de ce que la femme parlait sonnait... en gros, ça sonnait bien, au bout d'un moment ça commençait à lui donner un sens, commencer à reprendre la langue commencerait à partir d'ici pour elle. Elle regarda avec beaucoup d'intérêt la femme qui soufflait sur la chose en bois et lui montra comment l'utiliser. La fille a soigneusement saisi la cuillère comme on l'a montrée, l'a mise dans la soupe et a soufflé dessus. Elle a ensuite regardé vers la femme, se demandant si elle faisait tout correctement et tout en ne cassant pas le contact visuel, elle a apporté la cuillère pleine de soupe à sa bouche et l'a mis dans sa bouche. Elle goûtait bien au début, puis en avalant la soupe, elle commença à déguster du bois car elle n'avait pas sorti la cuillère de sa bouche et avait commencé à la montrer. Regarder vers le bas à la soupe et puis à la femme avec un sourire tout en mâchant encore sur la cuillère. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Azoth ayant vu les 2 entrer dans la pièce s'interroger sur le fait de rester et d'écouter ou de partir, il a finalement décidé de quitter les terrains du château et de rentrer chez lui.	excuses for placing them now and not sooner, busy live Name- Azoth Gray Age- 21 Gender- male Race- Human Occupation- Wetboy (magic using assassin specializing with poisons but also good with swords and such) Appearance- Personality- , fearless, smart, WIP (big chance I will work this out during the rp if allowed) Magic- Yes, a Magic used by Wetboy's called the Talent, the magic uses the mana without using spells and works trough the users skin: it has a lot of functions depending on the user and the one that learned the user, such as: sticking and crawling on walls and ceilings, increasing strength, speed and agility (level is also depending on user's choices, Azoth tends to go towards speed and agility but has a higher strength currently due to the training he had gotten from his teacher that loved strength), each talent user can break light fall in dark areas and in the night making them hard to see, it was not invisibility but of people did not started to look for the weak points, they generally never see the person unless by pure chance, they can all walk without making a sound, see in the night perfectly and more as these things (have not thought everything out fully but this gives a pretty clear view of its limits and uses I think) Abilities- sword master, poison master, skilled assassin, able to act pretty good, good with secrets. Weaknesses- he tends to care for others what is a bad thing for his line of work, that is good but still, a little obsessive about the details of his job, when he gets stressed/ nervous and such things he starts eating raw garlic, having a special pouch for it, also has a habit to lock things 3x in a row before he is satisfied, always cautious, maybe a little to much, setting traps and so much more, trough this has kept him alive, trough he feels no fear he is also smart enough to take in risk and avoid dangers, but he can make calculation mistakes due to the lack of fear. History- Azoth was born in the slumps of the kingdom an area where prostitutes roamed the streets and most kids living on the streets were born and abandon by their prostitute mother. the kids only had each other to live and it was a hard live. Azoth by this time even had a different name but was secluded from the others so no one even knew it, they all just said "boy" or "kid" if they needed him, most this was to work together to mug a drunk man late at night. One day, when Azoth was 8, a man walked dressed in black walked trough the streets and for the first time the ambush failed, it did not take long before the kids realized the man was an assassin, and not long after did Azoth realized the man was more then an a mere assassin, whispering the word "wetboy" the man had apparently increased his hearing as he had heard Azoth, smiled and said yes to the boy trough he was hiding in the shadows, actually looking Azoth in his eyes. Then the man looked at the gang's leader and started to talk, explaining the ambush entire set up into detail and had everything right, then he asked the leader, who had thought this up, to which the leader pointed to Azoth. The man smiled again "smart kid" he said. He turned to face Azoth and sat down to look the boy into his eyes. most would be terrified but Azoth was not, he had experienced things enough to have lost his sense of fear, he was ready to die, and dying by the hands of a wetboy would be the closest he thought to die with a sense of honor, a wetboy would kill him, nothing better could happen to his live he thought. But things went different, the man smiled more, lifted Azoth's face, turned it to see all sides of his face and then whispered something Azoth had never thought he would ever hear "become my apprentice" Azoth had seen an escape from his current hell of a live and took it right away. from there on he exited one hell to enter an other one. the man had him training 8 hours a day, study 4 hours on poisons, train an other 3, the rest of the day were rests and free but at times the man even went so far as to give Azoth other lessons and such, hell the man even broke his sleep often by attacking Azoth while he was sleeping, teaching Azoth to be aware of his surroundings even sleeping. nothing came to him easy and the man was never satisfied, still Azoth grew at a high rate, learning magic faster then most due to the training the man gave him and in time Azoth started to get his own personal jobs, the first deader was to kill a lord and make it seem like a accident, something that almost went bad as a woman entered the room, Azoth was forced to kill her as well. he was not allowed to wash his hands after that until the blood had flaked of his hands by time, a sign that he truly has become a wetboy. he learned a lot from that, take some more time to observe the deader and his natural live so he knows what to expect and prevent the death of an innocent. then In time he had learned all he could learn and became independent, having to learn his own Talent skills and his own way of killing.
23,819	685	40	1,072	4,551	Aribelle a hurlé. « Nous irons à mes pères... mon étude, où nous pouvons être seuls et loin de toute l'agitation de la célébration » a-t-elle répondu à Alex, se levant de son siège. Affirmant respectueusement les gardes environnants, elle a ajouté : « Je n'aurai pas besoin d'une autre protection pour ce soir. Vous avez bien fait votre travail, donc vous pouvez prendre votre retraite dans vos quartiers ou faire tout ce que vous voulez, car il y a encore du plaisir à avoir dehors pour les festivités. » Elle doutait fortement qu'un roi essaierait d'assassiner une reine personnellement et par lui-même, ce qui serait beaucoup trop risqué et, franchement, n'aurait aucun sens pour elle de toute façon. Peut-être qu'une royauté insisterait toujours pour qu'il y ait des gardes, mais Aribelle n'était pas l'une d'entre elles. C'était une perte de temps quand ils pouvaient faire d'autres choses. C'était une fois dans une vie, après tout, à moins qu'elle n'ait rencontré sa mort prématurée plus tôt que plus tard.	Name- Sonorus "Son" Carver Age- 21 Gender- Male Race- Human Occupation- Queen's Adviser Appearance- -Yes, he does wear a black hood with garments all the time. A distinct feature of Sonorus is the tattoo located beneath his left eye. It is also noticeable that Sonorus' eyes are constantly red. Personality- Son often shows two characteristics. When facing those with higher authority than him, he is noticeably polite and humble; often saying praises and speaking in a low tone... However, when he faces those who are lower than him, his demeanor changes drastically. He, now, speaks in harsh and incessant words; gleefully spouting insults and grim words at those he faces. However, his position has an adviser, of course, speaks for his talents. Son is a shrewd person who, sometimes, dictates plans and/or actions which benefit him rather than the queen. By the way, Son has an immense hatred for dwarves, and will happily watch them burn. Magic- Touch of Decay Son's magic is a powerful yet dangerous ability. Anything that comes into contact with his skin will begin to decay if the contact is prolonged; ranging from metals to wood, as long as it touches his skin long enough, it will be reduced to a pile of ash. However, the limitations are quit obvious. He can only destroy things that he can actually touch, as well as, it would actually take a solid minute to completely decompose a target. Furthermore, assuming that he actually fully decomposed a target, he cannot decay anything else using the same body part for a longer duration. For example, Son completely decomposes a sword using his right hand, after decomposing, Son cannot decompose anything else using his right hand for a few minutes. Drawbacks are obvious as friendly fire can actually occur. That is why Son is careful not to touch any of his allies while his ability is active. There is also a VERY important weakness to Son's ability, which will be discussed in the later categories. Son's magic is sealed within the tattoo beneath his left eye, and as such, he can activate and deactivate his magic at will. People can know whether his magic is active or not by looking at his tattoo; if it's glowing, the magic is active, and by looking at Son's skin. If a skin is particularly BLACKish in color, then that part can cause decay. Abilities- Dagger Mastery- Son is a talented wielder of a dagger or a knife, and specializes in knife combat. He uses fake movements to feign weakness or attacks, only to recoil and strike somewhere else. Intelligence- Son has a decent level of intelligence which allows him to see through deception or other agendas by thinking hard about it. Culinary Mastery- Son is a talented chef, and as such, he sometimes prepares the queen's meals or snacks. Basic Medic Training- Son has some skill when it comes to first-aids or minor wounds, but beyond that, he is clueless. Weaknesses- As mentioned, there is a great flaw in Son's ability. For one, he can only send his ability of decomposition to a SINGLE body part at a time. Which means, after draining his right hand's ability to decompose, he needs to send it to other body parts in order to defend himself. This means that multiple opponents can greatly impede Son's ability as they can strike from multiple directions while Son can only channel his ability to one body part at a time. Furthermore, Son is secretly bound by an oath, as a result of his magic, to never tell anything untrue. Should Son say anything untrue, his body will begin to decay until he corrects the untruth. History: Before the untimely death of the king, in the army of the High Tower served two generals... Husband and Wife. Their names were long forgotten, or rather, the people chose to forget them because of the deed that they had done to dishonor the army. These two generals were sent to battle those cursed dwarves once more. The outcome was what they expected; a victory against those foul bastards. However, the wife was missing when the victory horn was sounded. The husband panicked, wishing to find his other half. According to scouts, they had last seen the female general battling a group of dwarves, and after that, she was missing over the moors. The man roared in anger as he gathered his entire battalion, much to the anger and refusal of the other generals, and led his troops to the moors to find his wife. Once they were at the moors, the man saw his wife's silhouette from the center of the marsh, and with that, he stepped forward to take a closer look. To the man's delight, it was his wife! However, another figure emerged from the shadows and stood behind the woman. It was as if time stopped at that moment. The man's desperate cries fell on deaf ears as a rusty knife was lifted into the air, and it cut through the wife's throat; the corpse of the fallen general slumped lifelessly to the murky waters; never to be seen again. The general was enraged; very enraged. Without thinking of anything else, he ordered his troops to charge the dwarf. The soldiers were reluctant but they advanced, only to realize that it was a trap... From the shadows of the trees and shrubbery, the dwarven scum emerged and began to cut down the alarmed humans. Long story short, out of the hundred men he took to the moors, only ten returned alive; the general included. The man knew that it was only a matter of time before he would be executed, and as such, he went to his son, Sonorus, that night. The son was extremely devastated by the events, and with only little to lose, the boy agreed to a forbidden ritual. The father sealed his own ability to his son, the magic of decay kept bound by a single tattoo which made residence beneath the boy's left eye. The father then called the boy 'Son', a name that the boy would keep as long as he lives. The rise of the morning sun also marked the fall of a head... the father's head. It rolled silently along the bloodstained ground as the executioner lifted it up and tossed it around those who hated the man... Unknown to them, Son was actually watching... his teeth gritted in rage, his eyes blazed with wrath at seeing the corpse of his father desecrated... From that moment on, he swore ruin upon the humans and dwarves alike... he did not have a true purpose, but those two objectives were what satisfied his unquenchable rage for the mean time. The boy worked his way up, taking the path of the kingdom's politicians... There, he bled and sweated day and night in order to get the highest position possible to manipulate the King... until, the king, himself, died. Son was quite devastated... who would he manipulate now? It would be hard... or would it? Apparently, the one who would succeed the throne is a young girl... a queen. Son smiled that night... this would be easy; his eyes shimmering in the moonlight, excited for what was to come from a naive but interesting woman.
23,820	685	41	2,232	2,604	Finn a ri à la demande de Serena. "Bien sûr. Dans la forêt, il y a des ruines qui seraient étonnantes à explorer », a dit l'elfe, souriant. "On peut se retrouver là-bas demain matin. Mais avant d'être excités, on devrait parler de ta sœur. Je crains qu'elle ne réalise pas le danger dans lequel elle pourrait être. Certains paysans semblent la détester. Je pense que ça ferait du bien au royaume si vous étiez près d'elle. Je crains que si elle est tuée les relations entre elfes et humains continuent à pourrir, et pire encore, notre amour ne se fera jamais connaître », a déclaré Finn, un regard plus sérieux sur son visage.	Name- Prince Finn Audalian of the Illinor Woods Age- 21 Gender-Male Race- Elf Occupation- Prince Appearance- Minus the dragon of course lol. Personality-Finn is extremely smart and clever, often getting into intent discussions or verbal battles with his siblings. He's extremely loyal to those he cares about but is also bent on doing the right thing. He has a tendency to try to please anyone who reminds him of his father. Magic- Yes. Finn's magic is limited to being able to move things without touching them. However he can't lift anything heavier than a knight in some heavy armor without getting a massive headache. Abilities- Finn is an excellent swordfighter and an amazing marksman. He has won many tournaments in his kingdom with those skills. He's also a skilled strategist and was often called upon by his father to help him with troop movements in the recently concluded civil war between Northern and Southern Illinor Woods. Finn is also very agile and a master climber. He is often seen scaling the towers of the castle at home and anywhere else he desires to reach the top of. Weaknesses- Finn can tend to think with his heart at times, often disregarding tradition and his reputation to do whats right. Once he sacrificed a tournament so a poor elf could win the 5,000 gold prize, even though his father had had the family's reputation riding on Finn's winning. Finn would also sacrifice himself to save a loved one even if it was a stupid decision. History- Finn is the firstborn of King Nessimon Audalian of the Illinor Woods. Finn has lived a privileged life and was doted on by his mother, Queen Arwen, almost constantly. Finn was often neglected by his father until he was old enough to fight and prove himself, which lead to Finn having a subconcious desire to please people like his father. Finn, unlike his father, harbors no hatred for humans and often questions why they don't have diplomatic relations with Estoria. After Finn's 17th birthday King Nessimon sent him to the kingdom of Estoria to gather info on the ailing king there he met the king's oldest daughter and they began a relationship that was forced to be kept a secret lest his father finds out or her kingdom, who seems to despise elves and magic users.
23,821	685	42	2,232	2,604	Finn a ri à la demande de Serena. "Bien sûr. Dans la forêt, il y a des ruines qui seraient étonnantes à explorer », a dit l'elfe, souriant. "On peut se retrouver là-bas demain matin. Mais avant d'être excités, on devrait parler de ta sœur. Je crains qu'elle ne réalise pas le danger dans lequel elle pourrait être. Certains paysans semblent la détester. Je pense que ça ferait du bien au royaume si vous étiez près d'elle. Je crains que si elle est tuée les relations entre elfes et humains continuent à pourrir, et pire encore, notre amour ne se fera jamais connaître », a déclaré Finn, un regard plus sérieux sur son visage.	Name- Prince Finn Audalian of the Illinor Woods Age- 21 Gender-Male Race- Elf Occupation- Prince Appearance- Minus the dragon of course lol. Personality-Finn is extremely smart and clever, often getting into intent discussions or verbal battles with his siblings. He's extremely loyal to those he cares about but is also bent on doing the right thing. He has a tendency to try to please anyone who reminds him of his father. Magic- Yes. Finn's magic is limited to being able to move things without touching them. However he can't lift anything heavier than a knight in some heavy armor without getting a massive headache. Abilities- Finn is an excellent swordfighter and an amazing marksman. He has won many tournaments in his kingdom with those skills. He's also a skilled strategist and was often called upon by his father to help him with troop movements in the recently concluded civil war between Northern and Southern Illinor Woods. Finn is also very agile and a master climber. He is often seen scaling the towers of the castle at home and anywhere else he desires to reach the top of. Weaknesses- Finn can tend to think with his heart at times, often disregarding tradition and his reputation to do whats right. Once he sacrificed a tournament so a poor elf could win the 5,000 gold prize, even though his father had had the family's reputation riding on Finn's winning. Finn would also sacrifice himself to save a loved one even if it was a stupid decision. History- Finn is the firstborn of King Nessimon Audalian of the Illinor Woods. Finn has lived a privileged life and was doted on by his mother, Queen Arwen, almost constantly. Finn was often neglected by his father until he was old enough to fight and prove himself, which lead to Finn having a subconcious desire to please people like his father. Finn, unlike his father, harbors no hatred for humans and often questions why they don't have diplomatic relations with Estoria. After Finn's 17th birthday King Nessimon sent him to the kingdom of Estoria to gather info on the ailing king there he met the king's oldest daughter and they began a relationship that was forced to be kept a secret lest his father finds out or her kingdom, who seems to despise elves and magic users.
23,822	685	43	658	1,163	Alex a hurlé et puis il s'est levé et a dit à ses hommes "de rester ici et s'ils ont besoin d'aide, aidez-les." Alex a ensuite suivi Aribelle à l'étude.	Name- King Alexander Gildone Age- 24 Gender- Male Race- Human Occupation- King of a Kaer Appearance- Personality- calm collective and somewhat mysterious Magic- no Abilities- he is really good at strategy, and a strong fighter with a sword Weaknesses- does not know magic, doesn't like talking about his father's stepping down from the throne. History- Alex had a tough life growing up. His father trained him to be a King from a young age. The training was hard and strict. Alex didn't understand until he turned 21 and his father told him that he was stepping down from the throne and Alex was taking his place. The reason why his father stepped down is still only known by the royal family, which has created some rumors going around the Kingdom. This made it harder for Alex to rule, but over a few years he was able to win the people over. When the King died Alex knew that he would have to set up another treaty with the new queen, so he traveled to the kingdom to talk to the new queen about the future of trade in between the two kingdoms.
23,823	685	44	297	1,107	Goliath se tenait debout et veillait sur tout ce qui se passait. Il devait faire de son mieux pour protéger la reine. Il a remarqué qu'un homme s'approchait et Goliath se tenait prêt sans jamais le montrer. Il a entendu l'homme féliciter la reine et lui a fait signe. Goliath n'est pas sûr de ce que le geste signifiait vraiment. Il pensait que c'était un salut silencieux. Goliath pensait que les choses allaient bien jusqu'à ce qu'il entende la reine dire qu'elle n'avait plus besoin de protection pour la nuit. Il regardait qu'elle et un autre homme quittaient la pièce. À ce stade, Goliath n'avait jamais été plus perdu que ce qu'il ressentait maintenant. Il est sorti de la chambre et a regardé autour. C'était son premier jour dans le château et il a dû avoir des gardes l'escorter à la reine pour commencer. Il ne savait même pas s'il avait une chambre d'aucune sorte ou simplement un endroit pour dormir. Goliath marcha vers une fenêtre, penchée près d'elle. Il a enlevé son casque en laissant ses longs cheveux argentés libres de couler. Il a regardé par la fenêtre et a juste regardé. Il s'est dit que c'était mieux que de se tenir debout au milieu du couloir comme un idiot. "Goliath." Il s'est dit à lui-même. "Vous pouvez servir un dragon sans aucun problème, mais mettez-moi dans un endroit où je n'ai jamais été auparavant et tout va mal."	Name- Goliath Age- 25 Gender- Male Race- Mauscin. They are very human in appearance but have greater physical prowess. Occupation- Personal guard Appearance- Stands at 6'7 Personality- Goliath is a person who isn't known for being aggressive despite his appearance. He is very peaceful and isn't one to try and hurt another unless it is to protect others. Many would find Goliath as a weird fellow because he is not very at holding a conversation. A lot of people often make fun of him because of his lack of social skills. Goliath is one who always speaks formally and is the kind of person who tries to make friends with everyone because he never had friends as a kid. People don't really trust Goliath but in the end, Goliath only wants the Queen's trust. Magic- Goliath had his soul given power by a dragon giving him the ability to breathe fire and shape parts of his body into that of a dragons. Abilities- Extended life span. Expert in hand to hand combat and with a variety of weapons ranging from swords to pole arms. Enhanced physical attributes. Can speak the language of the dragons. Weaknesses- Goliath doesn't have any knowledge in political activities. Breathing fire for long periods of time will leave him winded. Shaping his limbs to that of a dragon for too long can leave the areas bruised or even broken if not careful. History- Most Mauscin villages serve as caretakers for a dragon. When a time comes, a personal servant for the dragon is chosen. Goliath was only eight years old when he was chosen. Goliath of course was frightened by the decision. When the day came for him to be taken, the dragon flew down to the village and Goliath walked right up to it and was ready to leave. His time with the dragon wasn't what one would expect. The dragon gave a piece of its soul and fused it with Goliath's. After this, his training began. The dragon trained him to harness and perfect his physical prowess and his new found abilities. He learned many things from the dragon including their language. A time came where the king of great kingdom became sick and things didn't look well. The hooded figure came to the dragon and asked it to look after the soon to be new queen of the kingdom. Though the dragon could not do this personally, it sent Goliath and thus his journey into a different world began
23,824	685	45	249	249	Il semblait que tout le monde était assez occupé par ses propres transactions. La scène avec la fille a causé beaucoup d'agitation et Geralt a remarqué que plus de quelques personnes avaient jugé bon de l'aider. La reine elle-même était très occupée, car elle lui avait répondu avec un simple merci. Il espérait une conversation plus détaillée, mais hélas, il n'était qu'un Ranger. Le grand homme qui se déplaçait de Sa Majesté avait l'air assez confus après que la Reine eut congédié les gardes pour s'occuper de leurs affaires. Geralt a noté que le roi Alex en visite était allé avec la Reine à son étude, susceptible de mener des affaires royales. Normalement, il y aurait des conseillers et d'autres fonctionnaires présents pour de telles transactions, mais si elle souhaite la protection de la vie privée, la protection de la vie privée est ce qu'elle a obtenu. Il s'est dirigé vers la fenêtre près de Goliath. L'homme comme énorme pour le moins et marchait avec un air de confiance. C'était un guerrier, Geralt pouvait voir. Un pour ne pas croiser les lames avec. -- Alors, c'est Goliath? a dit le Ranger comme il s'est penché sur le mur. "Mon nom est Geralt, Queens Ranger."	Name- Geralt Montegue Age- 34 Gender- Male Race- Human Occupation- Kings (or Queens) Ranger Appearance- Geralt is a man of average size at 5'10. His muscles, while not as built as a knights, are fine toned from years of training and experience. His hair is a dark brown and shoulder length. The Rangers eyes are an unusual shade of gray and coupled with his thousand yard stare, make an intimidating sight to behold. A short, grizzled beard marks his face and leaves an appearance of rugged charm. He can usually be seen wearing (if he's seen at all) simple brown trousers and tunic with leather gauntlets and boots. A short sword hangs at each hip and beneath his forest green cloak there is a quiver of arrows strapped to his back. The Rangers bow, while not in hand, is slung over his shoulder. Personality- Geralt, while outwardly grim and unapproachable, is actually a rather pleasant individual. Sarcastic and witty with a bit of mysterious charm. The Ranger is known by many in the court by reputation alone and friend to few. The late King himself was a friend to Geralt and his death weighs heavily on the Ranger. But he is a man of duty and his services have passed to the Queen. Magic- N/A Abilities- Geralt is a master of stealth. His comings and goings are noticed only if he wishes them to be. As one would expect, the Ranger is also skilled with a bow and throwing knives. He is also a proficient tracker. Weaknesses- Close combat. With his dual short swords, Geralt is an above average swordsman but nowhere near as skilled as say a Knight would be. History- "There has always been a need for a King to have scouts, spies, and messengers. A Ranger is all of these things and more." Those were his fathers first words to him upon the start of his Ranger training. Geralt would hear similar philosophies from his father through the course of his training, which took place from his 14th birthday until he was 21. During this training, he spent endless hours creeping through the forests surrounding the capitol and even through the streets. Another integral part of training was learning to track. Geralt cannot count how many practice trails his father created for his training or how many animals he tracked and killed with his bow. He took to archery rather quickly, by the time he was 17 Geralt could peg a sprinting deer with a kill shot at a hundred yards. His father, Roland, was one of the Kings most trusted advisors and scouts. Of course there were other Rangers, Spies, Assassins.. but none of them held in high regard as Roland. And it was a sad day indeed when the old Ranger passed and left Geralt to carry on his legacy only a year after he'd completed training. And so began his mission to live up to his fathers reputation and over the last ten years, Geralt has done quite well for himself. At the ripe old age of 34, Geralt is one of the most prominent Rangers alive. Even the Elves recognize his exceptional marksmanship and forestry skills. The death of the King had a profound effect on the Ranger however and his demeanor has darkened considerably to those who know him. To the younger members of the court Geralt is just a grumpy old sneak. He's pledged his loyalty to the young Queen however, trusting in the daughter of his old Friend to rule with justice. Geralt has assumed a more passive role lately and hasn't left the castle in some days now, keeping a watchful eye on all who seek audience with the Queen.
23,825	685	46	324	1,204	Rose Thorel ~ Rose a glissé sur la fille. Il faut le remplir de la soupe quand elle est partie, comme ça.Elle a doucement déplacé sa main vers la soupe. Elle a répété le processus et a regardé en mangeant. Elle a demandé. La regarder a apporté une joie au visage de Rose. Rose pourrait dire qu'elle serait proche de cette fille. Elle aimerait lui apprendre ce qu'elle devait savoir. Des questions surgissaient dans sa tête. D'où vient-elle? A-t-elle souffert d'une perte de mémoire? Rose ne pouvait pas aider, mais pense que c'était plus que ça. Comme elle pensait, elle a réalisé que cette fille n'avait pas de nom. Appeler sa fille deviendrait fatigant et c'était un peu impoli. Rose avait-elle le droit de l'appeler? Tu peux essayer de me dire ton nom? Ou comment les gens t'appelaient? Elle savait qu'elle ne répondrait pas, mais Rose avait un peu peur de lui donner un nom. Princesse Serena~ Ça a l'air merveilleux Finn! » Serena a dit avec excitation. Elle pouvait à peine attendre. Des endroits avec Finn lui ont toujours fait la journée, elle s'est sentie à nouveau en vie. En plus, elle n'avait pas à porter ces belles robes et à avoir des manières parfaites. Elle pourrait être elle-même. Le visage de Serena est devenu sérieux alors que Finn parlait de sa sœur. Il savait qu'elle détestait la politique, mais si sa sœur était en danger. Il avait aussi raison, leur relation n'avait aucune chance si Aribelle n'était pas reine. Serena avait beaucoup en jeu. Elle prit la main de Finn et le regarda avec ses yeux bleus profonds. Je lui parlerai, je te le promets. Pourquoi les paysans la détestent-ils?Et qui essaierait de tuer Aribelle? Vous ne savez pas quelque chose, est-ce que vous Finn?, Elle gémit et murmura, Je déteste la politique..,	Name- Princess Serena Grandhelm of Estoria Age- 21 Gender- female Race- human Occupation- Eldest princess of kingdom Estoria Personality- Serena is adventurous and brave. She tends to speak her mind whenever she believes in something, despite the consequences. She is far from your average princess. In public, Serena pretends to be delicate and courteous. She hates letting people down and is extremely hard working. Serena also has her gentle side. She is extremely compassionate and loving but tends to hide that side from others. Magic- No magic Abilities- She is wickedly smart, from being raised with the best education in the kingdom. She extremely virtuous and loves music. However, only her sister Aribelle knows about her passion. Weaknesses- Although Serena’s personality is strong, she lacks a physical fighting ability. She is small and puny. History- Serena is the eldest princess of Grandhelm. She grew up as a stubborn and strong minded princess. She hates to follow the punctilious rules of being a princess but she still tries her best. She thought her life would be the same boring princess life forever. Until she met Finn, an Elf prince visiting the kingdom. Finn was a new opportunity for Serena to have an adventurous life. Serena fell in love right away. When the king passed away, Serena was devastated and afraid. She spent a lot of time with her younger sister, Aribelle, as they got through the hard times. Having an older sibling, Serena never thought she would get the opportunity to become the queen of the kingdom. Until her brother denied the throne and Serena was offered it. Due to the discrimination against elves, Serena knew she couldn’t be the queen and be with Finn. The decision wasn't hard for Serena, she knew where her heart stood. She decided to reject the offer and be with Finn, even though their love was in secret. ***************************************************************** Name- Rose Thorel Age- 17 Gender- female Race- Human Occupation- Personal servant to the queen Personality- Rose loves her family and friends. She has a caring and sweet heart for everyone around her. She always tries to make people smile and enjoy themselves. She hates seeing people sad or upset. Rose is also very protective of her love ones. She will never stand by and watch them get hurt. She always does her best to protect them with her gift, even if they are unaware of her saving them. Magic- Rose is a witch in secret. She is not like other witches, she was born able to use magic without training. She is an exception to the world of magic. Rose is able to perform spells from her spell book and also has the gift to see glimpses into the future. Abilities- She is able to cheer up most people by her affectionate aura. She is also one of the best seamstresses in the kingdom. She makes good money sewing for people. Weaknesses- Rose has gigantic weakness for her brother Rand and the queen. If anyone is in trouble, she will always try to save them, even if it means putting her life at risk. History- Rose grew up as a farmer in the outskirts of the kingdom. Her brother Rand and her had a wonderful childhood, full of happy and cheery memories. Until a neighboring rival kingdom attacked their farm when Rose was seven. They burnt their cozy home and murdered their parents. Rand escaped with Rose to a village where he left her, in the hands of a friendly and considerate old woman named Elisabeth, to join the military. There Rose embraced her gift of magic. When she lived with her parents, they kept her ability secret from everyone, including her brother Rand. The closest neighbor was four miles away, so it wasn’t difficult to keep her magic private. Elisabeth was a witch herself, except not nearly as powerful as Rose was. Elisabeth taught Rose how to control her magic and use it wisely. Rose used Elisabeth’s spell book and eventually inherited it herself. Rose also learned how to sew from Elisabeth, a talent she continues to do. When Rose was 16 years old, her brother Rand, now 23, came back for her. She returned to the kingdom and now lives with Rand. They became closer than ever. Rand found a job for Rose in the kingdom where she met princess Aribelle and instantly became friends with her. Soon after, Rose began getting visions of Aribelle being the new queen. Somehow, Rose knew she needed to protect her, so became Aribelle’s personal servant. About a year later, Rose’s vision came true and Aribelle took the throne. Rose knows that Aribelle will become a powerful queen, but whether she will be good or evil is unknown. Rose uses her secret gift to watch over the queen and protect her from evil lurking in unknown places.
23,826	685	47	752	2,268	Guardan monta jusqu'au château au moment où les paysans rentraient chez eux son bélier blanc-neige se tenant debout tandis que les gens se formaient autour de lui comme une vague tirant les regards nains de la haine, l'un semblait même être sur le point de poignarder Guardan avec son couteau de chasse sur sa ceinture, mais le nain continua d'ignorer l'homme qui se dirigeait vers la porte, quand il arriva là les gardes l'arrêtèrent, mais tout ce qu'il montrait était du papier scellé avec le sceau des rois nains et ils le laissèrent passer, lorsqu'ils furent défrichés par Guardan et donnèrent le règne de son bélier à un garde et il marcha dans la salle principale du château. Guardan pensait que le hall principal dans le palais dwarven était énorme celui-ci l'avait battu il rendait le nain sentir plus petit qu'une souris, Guardan était confus sur où aller, mais demandé un garde où la reine était il n'a pas dit beaucoup de rien, mais "étude." Et pointé vers le bas de la salle vers l'étude Guardan a hissé à l'homme "Vous avez mes remerciements." Il a dit de descendre le hall jusqu'à la grande porte en bois de l'étude, il a étudié la porte un moment avant de frapper trois fois à la porte en espérant qu'il n'interrompait rien.	Name-Rand Thorel Age- 24 Gender- Male Race- Human Occupation- Kings Knight (formerly) Queens Knight (present) Appearance- Is a broad shouldered mountain of a man standing very tall and very broad with black hair and streaks of white from the stresses of battle and politics, has a long scar running down his back. Personality-Rand is a grizzled war veteran fighting many wars before being knighted, he is a honorable man who believes in doing whats right as well as treating his opponents with honor and dignity. But he has a soft spot for his sister and the queen often letting either get away with what they wish. Magic- N/A Abilities- Blade Master:Rand is death incarnate on the battlefield with a sword, there are few like him. Tactician: As a knight sometimes you are required to lead, and Rand has led many sieges and battles before. Mounted Combat:there are very few who can match a knight on a horse. Weaknesses- Rand has a soft heart for his sister and the queen if they were to be targeted, he would become enraged or saddened History-Rand was born on a farm to two people who couldn't be happier to see him brought into the world, they taught Rand all he knew about the farm. At age seven his little sister Rose was brought into the world bringing the family of 3 up to 4,, although Rand was jealous at first of all the attention his sister was getting his father sat him down and told him about all the happiness she could bring into the family. This made Rand much happier and for seven years they were inseparable, he taught his sister all he knew about the farm in that time until a rival kingdom came to the farm and set upon it. Rand and his little sister hid nearby and Rand watched as they slaughtered their family burned down the farm and salted the earth after witnessing the horror that went on, him and his sister set out for town. When they got to the small little hamlet Rand left his sister in the care of a trusted family friend, and joined the military at age 15 he had gone through training and was officially a soldier in the military a man-at-arms for the kingdom. He fought in many battles against the kingdoms enemies and was acknowledged for his heroism in many sieges, at age 17 he was taken in to be a knights squire and the old knight taught him how to be a master with the blade, how to become one with your sword arm and through him Rand became a great swordsmen striking fear into the hearts of his enemies, with his master on the battlefield. Eventually at age 23 getting himself knighted by the king himself, but feeling alone and empty after years of blood shed he sought out his sister. And eventually found her he used his pull in the castle to get his sister a job as the youngest princesses personal servant. And there they were they hadn't seen each other in six years and together they were again him and his sister caught up on all the things they missed in each others lives, and when the king died Rand swore his blade in the service to the queen promising to protect her with his life.
23,827	685	48	1,072	4,551	Il n'était pas trop loin dans la discussion du tout quand une interruption est venue par le moyen de frapper sur la porte de chêne fantaisie menant à l'extérieur, étrangement assez venant d'une hauteur inférieure sur la porte alors ce que la personne normale frapperait à. Un enfant, peut-être? Est-ce que toutes ces interruptions seraient ce qu'elle devait aussi regarder vers l'avenir pendant toute sa vie en tant que reine? Elle avait un nouveau respect pour ceux qui avaient porté ce fardeau devant elle. "Pardonne-moi," dit-elle gentiment à Alex, ne laissant aucune irritation se manifester sur son visage. Ce qui s'est montré était totalement perplexe quand elle a ouvert la porte et est venue face à face avec un nain. Elle a gelé en place, ne sait pas exactement ce qui se passait ici. Cependant, s'il était un mauvais gars, alors il avait d'excellentes manières d'avoir frappé en premier. En plus, il n'était pas agressif. Peut-être que c'était mal de le stéréotyper pour être un nain et qu'elle devrait agir naturellement ; voir pour quoi il était là. "Ah, monsieur le nain, je suis la reine Aribelle. Et vous êtes?" Elle l'interrogea, ne contenant à peine son bégaiement. C'était le premier homme adulte avec lequel elle était entrée en contact où elle n'avait pas à regarder vers le haut pour voir les yeux. Maintenant, elle a pu regarder en bas, pour ainsi dire, mais seulement par un peu.	Name- Sonorus "Son" Carver Age- 21 Gender- Male Race- Human Occupation- Queen's Adviser Appearance- -Yes, he does wear a black hood with garments all the time. A distinct feature of Sonorus is the tattoo located beneath his left eye. It is also noticeable that Sonorus' eyes are constantly red. Personality- Son often shows two characteristics. When facing those with higher authority than him, he is noticeably polite and humble; often saying praises and speaking in a low tone... However, when he faces those who are lower than him, his demeanor changes drastically. He, now, speaks in harsh and incessant words; gleefully spouting insults and grim words at those he faces. However, his position has an adviser, of course, speaks for his talents. Son is a shrewd person who, sometimes, dictates plans and/or actions which benefit him rather than the queen. By the way, Son has an immense hatred for dwarves, and will happily watch them burn. Magic- Touch of Decay Son's magic is a powerful yet dangerous ability. Anything that comes into contact with his skin will begin to decay if the contact is prolonged; ranging from metals to wood, as long as it touches his skin long enough, it will be reduced to a pile of ash. However, the limitations are quit obvious. He can only destroy things that he can actually touch, as well as, it would actually take a solid minute to completely decompose a target. Furthermore, assuming that he actually fully decomposed a target, he cannot decay anything else using the same body part for a longer duration. For example, Son completely decomposes a sword using his right hand, after decomposing, Son cannot decompose anything else using his right hand for a few minutes. Drawbacks are obvious as friendly fire can actually occur. That is why Son is careful not to touch any of his allies while his ability is active. There is also a VERY important weakness to Son's ability, which will be discussed in the later categories. Son's magic is sealed within the tattoo beneath his left eye, and as such, he can activate and deactivate his magic at will. People can know whether his magic is active or not by looking at his tattoo; if it's glowing, the magic is active, and by looking at Son's skin. If a skin is particularly BLACKish in color, then that part can cause decay. Abilities- Dagger Mastery- Son is a talented wielder of a dagger or a knife, and specializes in knife combat. He uses fake movements to feign weakness or attacks, only to recoil and strike somewhere else. Intelligence- Son has a decent level of intelligence which allows him to see through deception or other agendas by thinking hard about it. Culinary Mastery- Son is a talented chef, and as such, he sometimes prepares the queen's meals or snacks. Basic Medic Training- Son has some skill when it comes to first-aids or minor wounds, but beyond that, he is clueless. Weaknesses- As mentioned, there is a great flaw in Son's ability. For one, he can only send his ability of decomposition to a SINGLE body part at a time. Which means, after draining his right hand's ability to decompose, he needs to send it to other body parts in order to defend himself. This means that multiple opponents can greatly impede Son's ability as they can strike from multiple directions while Son can only channel his ability to one body part at a time. Furthermore, Son is secretly bound by an oath, as a result of his magic, to never tell anything untrue. Should Son say anything untrue, his body will begin to decay until he corrects the untruth. History: Before the untimely death of the king, in the army of the High Tower served two generals... Husband and Wife. Their names were long forgotten, or rather, the people chose to forget them because of the deed that they had done to dishonor the army. These two generals were sent to battle those cursed dwarves once more. The outcome was what they expected; a victory against those foul bastards. However, the wife was missing when the victory horn was sounded. The husband panicked, wishing to find his other half. According to scouts, they had last seen the female general battling a group of dwarves, and after that, she was missing over the moors. The man roared in anger as he gathered his entire battalion, much to the anger and refusal of the other generals, and led his troops to the moors to find his wife. Once they were at the moors, the man saw his wife's silhouette from the center of the marsh, and with that, he stepped forward to take a closer look. To the man's delight, it was his wife! However, another figure emerged from the shadows and stood behind the woman. It was as if time stopped at that moment. The man's desperate cries fell on deaf ears as a rusty knife was lifted into the air, and it cut through the wife's throat; the corpse of the fallen general slumped lifelessly to the murky waters; never to be seen again. The general was enraged; very enraged. Without thinking of anything else, he ordered his troops to charge the dwarf. The soldiers were reluctant but they advanced, only to realize that it was a trap... From the shadows of the trees and shrubbery, the dwarven scum emerged and began to cut down the alarmed humans. Long story short, out of the hundred men he took to the moors, only ten returned alive; the general included. The man knew that it was only a matter of time before he would be executed, and as such, he went to his son, Sonorus, that night. The son was extremely devastated by the events, and with only little to lose, the boy agreed to a forbidden ritual. The father sealed his own ability to his son, the magic of decay kept bound by a single tattoo which made residence beneath the boy's left eye. The father then called the boy 'Son', a name that the boy would keep as long as he lives. The rise of the morning sun also marked the fall of a head... the father's head. It rolled silently along the bloodstained ground as the executioner lifted it up and tossed it around those who hated the man... Unknown to them, Son was actually watching... his teeth gritted in rage, his eyes blazed with wrath at seeing the corpse of his father desecrated... From that moment on, he swore ruin upon the humans and dwarves alike... he did not have a true purpose, but those two objectives were what satisfied his unquenchable rage for the mean time. The boy worked his way up, taking the path of the kingdom's politicians... There, he bled and sweated day and night in order to get the highest position possible to manipulate the King... until, the king, himself, died. Son was quite devastated... who would he manipulate now? It would be hard... or would it? Apparently, the one who would succeed the throne is a young girl... a queen. Son smiled that night... this would be easy; his eyes shimmering in the moonlight, excited for what was to come from a naive but interesting woman.
23,828	685	49	297	1,107	Goliath a continué à regarder par la fenêtre coincé dans ses propres pensées à propos d'être perdu jusqu'à ce qu'il entende son nom étant dit. Il se tourna vers un homme qui s'adressait à lui en tant que Geralt. Goliath s'est évanoui. "Vous ne devez pas en savoir grand-chose sur nous si vous vous approchez de moi avec la profession de ranger. Les dragons ne sont pas à trouver d'eux." Goliath a dit. Sa voix semblait étonnamment douce et calme pour quelqu'un de sa taille. "Je suis le nouveau gardien des reines. Je suis presque sûr que cela a été rendu évident dans l'autre pièce." Il a dit nudger dans la chambre. "Je n'ai jamais eu à protéger un humain avant. J'ai l'habitude de protéger des créatures beaucoup plus grandes qu'elle... ou le couloir." Goliath a laissé un soupir comme s'il était déjà à court de choses à dire. "Les dragons ne sont pas le plus gentil genre de "royalty" mais ils m'ont traité comme une famille. Je suppose que c'était parce que c'était la seule famille que j'avais vraiment. Je n'ai pas pu passer du temps avec ma vraie famille." Goliath regarda Geralt. "Et toi? Votre ranger donc je suppose que vous avez un peu d'histoires à raconter."	Name- Goliath Age- 25 Gender- Male Race- Mauscin. They are very human in appearance but have greater physical prowess. Occupation- Personal guard Appearance- Stands at 6'7 Personality- Goliath is a person who isn't known for being aggressive despite his appearance. He is very peaceful and isn't one to try and hurt another unless it is to protect others. Many would find Goliath as a weird fellow because he is not very at holding a conversation. A lot of people often make fun of him because of his lack of social skills. Goliath is one who always speaks formally and is the kind of person who tries to make friends with everyone because he never had friends as a kid. People don't really trust Goliath but in the end, Goliath only wants the Queen's trust. Magic- Goliath had his soul given power by a dragon giving him the ability to breathe fire and shape parts of his body into that of a dragons. Abilities- Extended life span. Expert in hand to hand combat and with a variety of weapons ranging from swords to pole arms. Enhanced physical attributes. Can speak the language of the dragons. Weaknesses- Goliath doesn't have any knowledge in political activities. Breathing fire for long periods of time will leave him winded. Shaping his limbs to that of a dragon for too long can leave the areas bruised or even broken if not careful. History- Most Mauscin villages serve as caretakers for a dragon. When a time comes, a personal servant for the dragon is chosen. Goliath was only eight years old when he was chosen. Goliath of course was frightened by the decision. When the day came for him to be taken, the dragon flew down to the village and Goliath walked right up to it and was ready to leave. His time with the dragon wasn't what one would expect. The dragon gave a piece of its soul and fused it with Goliath's. After this, his training began. The dragon trained him to harness and perfect his physical prowess and his new found abilities. He learned many things from the dragon including their language. A time came where the king of great kingdom became sick and things didn't look well. The hooded figure came to the dragon and asked it to look after the soon to be new queen of the kingdom. Though the dragon could not do this personally, it sent Goliath and thus his journey into a different world began
23,829	685	50	752	2,268	Guardan regarda la reine et étudia son visage, comme un enfant qui était à peine hors du lit, mais Guardan dédaigna : « Je suis Guardan ta majesté 5e enfant de Thormar Ironhill, ancien roi des nains et frère de Lokir Ironhill, roi des nains, j'ai été envoyé en faveur de mon frère pour agir comme ambassadeur entre nos deux peuples. » Il a dit de donner un arc profond après la salutation. regarder à l'intérieur il a vu la reine était avec un invité quelqu'un d'autre qui était jeune un prince ou un prétendant peut-être Guardan a frappé sa longue barbe rouge "Semble que je vous ai interrompu et votre invité mes excuses je vais prendre congé, après je vous donne ceci." Il a remis le message scellé à la reine et est resté là en attendant qu'elle le rejette.	Name-Rand Thorel Age- 24 Gender- Male Race- Human Occupation- Kings Knight (formerly) Queens Knight (present) Appearance- Is a broad shouldered mountain of a man standing very tall and very broad with black hair and streaks of white from the stresses of battle and politics, has a long scar running down his back. Personality-Rand is a grizzled war veteran fighting many wars before being knighted, he is a honorable man who believes in doing whats right as well as treating his opponents with honor and dignity. But he has a soft spot for his sister and the queen often letting either get away with what they wish. Magic- N/A Abilities- Blade Master:Rand is death incarnate on the battlefield with a sword, there are few like him. Tactician: As a knight sometimes you are required to lead, and Rand has led many sieges and battles before. Mounted Combat:there are very few who can match a knight on a horse. Weaknesses- Rand has a soft heart for his sister and the queen if they were to be targeted, he would become enraged or saddened History-Rand was born on a farm to two people who couldn't be happier to see him brought into the world, they taught Rand all he knew about the farm. At age seven his little sister Rose was brought into the world bringing the family of 3 up to 4,, although Rand was jealous at first of all the attention his sister was getting his father sat him down and told him about all the happiness she could bring into the family. This made Rand much happier and for seven years they were inseparable, he taught his sister all he knew about the farm in that time until a rival kingdom came to the farm and set upon it. Rand and his little sister hid nearby and Rand watched as they slaughtered their family burned down the farm and salted the earth after witnessing the horror that went on, him and his sister set out for town. When they got to the small little hamlet Rand left his sister in the care of a trusted family friend, and joined the military at age 15 he had gone through training and was officially a soldier in the military a man-at-arms for the kingdom. He fought in many battles against the kingdoms enemies and was acknowledged for his heroism in many sieges, at age 17 he was taken in to be a knights squire and the old knight taught him how to be a master with the blade, how to become one with your sword arm and through him Rand became a great swordsmen striking fear into the hearts of his enemies, with his master on the battlefield. Eventually at age 23 getting himself knighted by the king himself, but feeling alone and empty after years of blood shed he sought out his sister. And eventually found her he used his pull in the castle to get his sister a job as the youngest princesses personal servant. And there they were they hadn't seen each other in six years and together they were again him and his sister caught up on all the things they missed in each others lives, and when the king died Rand swore his blade in the service to the queen promising to protect her with his life.
23,830	685	51	658	1,163	Alex a hurlé. Alex a ensuite vu le nain et a été choqué. Alex a ensuite dit : "Oh, notre conversation ne peut pas attendre, de quoi voulez-vous parler à la reine."	Name- King Alexander Gildone Age- 24 Gender- Male Race- Human Occupation- King of a Kaer Appearance- Personality- calm collective and somewhat mysterious Magic- no Abilities- he is really good at strategy, and a strong fighter with a sword Weaknesses- does not know magic, doesn't like talking about his father's stepping down from the throne. History- Alex had a tough life growing up. His father trained him to be a King from a young age. The training was hard and strict. Alex didn't understand until he turned 21 and his father told him that he was stepping down from the throne and Alex was taking his place. The reason why his father stepped down is still only known by the royal family, which has created some rumors going around the Kingdom. This made it harder for Alex to rule, but over a few years he was able to win the people over. When the King died Alex knew that he would have to set up another treaty with the new queen, so he traveled to the kingdom to talk to the new queen about the future of trade in between the two kingdoms.
23,831	685	52	686	2,548	La jeune fille regarda que la femme lui montra plus comment manger et commença à creuser dans la soupe tout de suite après. Elle n'a pas répondu quand on lui a demandé si elle l'aimait, une raison, elle n'a pas compris ce qui lui avait été demandé, une autre était qu'elle était occupée à manger la soupe. Quand la femme lui a posé des questions sur quelque chose qui s'appelait un «nom», elle a regardé la femme dans ses yeux et a incliné sa tête en se demandant de quoi elle parlait. Alors qu'elle s'inclinait la tête elle faisait un petit son "eh" au creux il était étouffé comme elle avait la cuillère encore dans sa bouche après sa dernière morsure	excuses for placing them now and not sooner, busy live Name- Azoth Gray Age- 21 Gender- male Race- Human Occupation- Wetboy (magic using assassin specializing with poisons but also good with swords and such) Appearance- Personality- , fearless, smart, WIP (big chance I will work this out during the rp if allowed) Magic- Yes, a Magic used by Wetboy's called the Talent, the magic uses the mana without using spells and works trough the users skin: it has a lot of functions depending on the user and the one that learned the user, such as: sticking and crawling on walls and ceilings, increasing strength, speed and agility (level is also depending on user's choices, Azoth tends to go towards speed and agility but has a higher strength currently due to the training he had gotten from his teacher that loved strength), each talent user can break light fall in dark areas and in the night making them hard to see, it was not invisibility but of people did not started to look for the weak points, they generally never see the person unless by pure chance, they can all walk without making a sound, see in the night perfectly and more as these things (have not thought everything out fully but this gives a pretty clear view of its limits and uses I think) Abilities- sword master, poison master, skilled assassin, able to act pretty good, good with secrets. Weaknesses- he tends to care for others what is a bad thing for his line of work, that is good but still, a little obsessive about the details of his job, when he gets stressed/ nervous and such things he starts eating raw garlic, having a special pouch for it, also has a habit to lock things 3x in a row before he is satisfied, always cautious, maybe a little to much, setting traps and so much more, trough this has kept him alive, trough he feels no fear he is also smart enough to take in risk and avoid dangers, but he can make calculation mistakes due to the lack of fear. History- Azoth was born in the slumps of the kingdom an area where prostitutes roamed the streets and most kids living on the streets were born and abandon by their prostitute mother. the kids only had each other to live and it was a hard live. Azoth by this time even had a different name but was secluded from the others so no one even knew it, they all just said "boy" or "kid" if they needed him, most this was to work together to mug a drunk man late at night. One day, when Azoth was 8, a man walked dressed in black walked trough the streets and for the first time the ambush failed, it did not take long before the kids realized the man was an assassin, and not long after did Azoth realized the man was more then an a mere assassin, whispering the word "wetboy" the man had apparently increased his hearing as he had heard Azoth, smiled and said yes to the boy trough he was hiding in the shadows, actually looking Azoth in his eyes. Then the man looked at the gang's leader and started to talk, explaining the ambush entire set up into detail and had everything right, then he asked the leader, who had thought this up, to which the leader pointed to Azoth. The man smiled again "smart kid" he said. He turned to face Azoth and sat down to look the boy into his eyes. most would be terrified but Azoth was not, he had experienced things enough to have lost his sense of fear, he was ready to die, and dying by the hands of a wetboy would be the closest he thought to die with a sense of honor, a wetboy would kill him, nothing better could happen to his live he thought. But things went different, the man smiled more, lifted Azoth's face, turned it to see all sides of his face and then whispered something Azoth had never thought he would ever hear "become my apprentice" Azoth had seen an escape from his current hell of a live and took it right away. from there on he exited one hell to enter an other one. the man had him training 8 hours a day, study 4 hours on poisons, train an other 3, the rest of the day were rests and free but at times the man even went so far as to give Azoth other lessons and such, hell the man even broke his sleep often by attacking Azoth while he was sleeping, teaching Azoth to be aware of his surroundings even sleeping. nothing came to him easy and the man was never satisfied, still Azoth grew at a high rate, learning magic faster then most due to the training the man gave him and in time Azoth started to get his own personal jobs, the first deader was to kill a lord and make it seem like a accident, something that almost went bad as a woman entered the room, Azoth was forced to kill her as well. he was not allowed to wash his hands after that until the blood had flaked of his hands by time, a sign that he truly has become a wetboy. he learned a lot from that, take some more time to observe the deader and his natural live so he knows what to expect and prevent the death of an innocent. then In time he had learned all he could learn and became independent, having to learn his own Talent skills and his own way of killing.
23,832	685	53	324	1,204	Rose rigolait encore, cette fille était certainement mignonne. "Tout est parti, je suis désolé, mais c'est tout ce que j'ai." Rose sortit doucement la cuillère de sa bouche et ramassa le bol. Elle a mis le bol à l'envers, indiquant qu'il était vide. Après avoir remis le bol et la cuillère dans son sac, elle a trouvé un lys, la fleur. Elle avait complètement oublié qu'elle l'avait choisi plus tôt ce matin. C'est un parfum merveilleux. Une pensée lui est soudain venue. Elle a jeté un coup d'œil sur la fille. Et si...? Rose a saisi la fleur et l'a donnée à la fille. "Lily.. Tu aimes ça? Rose et Lily." Rose gigogne et sourit.	Name- Princess Serena Grandhelm of Estoria Age- 21 Gender- female Race- human Occupation- Eldest princess of kingdom Estoria Personality- Serena is adventurous and brave. She tends to speak her mind whenever she believes in something, despite the consequences. She is far from your average princess. In public, Serena pretends to be delicate and courteous. She hates letting people down and is extremely hard working. Serena also has her gentle side. She is extremely compassionate and loving but tends to hide that side from others. Magic- No magic Abilities- She is wickedly smart, from being raised with the best education in the kingdom. She extremely virtuous and loves music. However, only her sister Aribelle knows about her passion. Weaknesses- Although Serena’s personality is strong, she lacks a physical fighting ability. She is small and puny. History- Serena is the eldest princess of Grandhelm. She grew up as a stubborn and strong minded princess. She hates to follow the punctilious rules of being a princess but she still tries her best. She thought her life would be the same boring princess life forever. Until she met Finn, an Elf prince visiting the kingdom. Finn was a new opportunity for Serena to have an adventurous life. Serena fell in love right away. When the king passed away, Serena was devastated and afraid. She spent a lot of time with her younger sister, Aribelle, as they got through the hard times. Having an older sibling, Serena never thought she would get the opportunity to become the queen of the kingdom. Until her brother denied the throne and Serena was offered it. Due to the discrimination against elves, Serena knew she couldn’t be the queen and be with Finn. The decision wasn't hard for Serena, she knew where her heart stood. She decided to reject the offer and be with Finn, even though their love was in secret. ***************************************************************** Name- Rose Thorel Age- 17 Gender- female Race- Human Occupation- Personal servant to the queen Personality- Rose loves her family and friends. She has a caring and sweet heart for everyone around her. She always tries to make people smile and enjoy themselves. She hates seeing people sad or upset. Rose is also very protective of her love ones. She will never stand by and watch them get hurt. She always does her best to protect them with her gift, even if they are unaware of her saving them. Magic- Rose is a witch in secret. She is not like other witches, she was born able to use magic without training. She is an exception to the world of magic. Rose is able to perform spells from her spell book and also has the gift to see glimpses into the future. Abilities- She is able to cheer up most people by her affectionate aura. She is also one of the best seamstresses in the kingdom. She makes good money sewing for people. Weaknesses- Rose has gigantic weakness for her brother Rand and the queen. If anyone is in trouble, she will always try to save them, even if it means putting her life at risk. History- Rose grew up as a farmer in the outskirts of the kingdom. Her brother Rand and her had a wonderful childhood, full of happy and cheery memories. Until a neighboring rival kingdom attacked their farm when Rose was seven. They burnt their cozy home and murdered their parents. Rand escaped with Rose to a village where he left her, in the hands of a friendly and considerate old woman named Elisabeth, to join the military. There Rose embraced her gift of magic. When she lived with her parents, they kept her ability secret from everyone, including her brother Rand. The closest neighbor was four miles away, so it wasn’t difficult to keep her magic private. Elisabeth was a witch herself, except not nearly as powerful as Rose was. Elisabeth taught Rose how to control her magic and use it wisely. Rose used Elisabeth’s spell book and eventually inherited it herself. Rose also learned how to sew from Elisabeth, a talent she continues to do. When Rose was 16 years old, her brother Rand, now 23, came back for her. She returned to the kingdom and now lives with Rand. They became closer than ever. Rand found a job for Rose in the kingdom where she met princess Aribelle and instantly became friends with her. Soon after, Rose began getting visions of Aribelle being the new queen. Somehow, Rose knew she needed to protect her, so became Aribelle’s personal servant. About a year later, Rose’s vision came true and Aribelle took the throne. Rose knows that Aribelle will become a powerful queen, but whether she will be good or evil is unknown. Rose uses her secret gift to watch over the queen and protect her from evil lurking in unknown places.
23,833	685	54	752	2,268	C'est pas vrai. Rand a regardé sa sœur et la fille avec un sourire sur son visage quand sa sœur a attrapé un lilly de la bande de fleurs à proximité essayant de trouver un nom pour la fille, "Lilly est un grand nom, je pense." Il s'est ridiculisé. Guardan Le nain regarda de près l'expression des reines pour voir s'il pouvait garder la tête ou non quand son compagnon lui donna la permission de parler à la reine le nain lui dit pourquoi il était ici "Mon frère veut assurer la paix, il est prêt à offrir une partie de votre terre aussi longtemps que vous lui payez, j'ai été envoyé comme courtier et diplomate pour les nains, mais vous trouverez tout cela dans la lettre." Il a dit à la reine de prendre une longue respiration. "Mais c'est vraiment à vous si vous prenez son marché ou pas, c'est plutôt scandaleux, si vous me demandez que vous ne devriez pas charger quelqu'un de rendre ce que vous avez pris."	Name-Rand Thorel Age- 24 Gender- Male Race- Human Occupation- Kings Knight (formerly) Queens Knight (present) Appearance- Is a broad shouldered mountain of a man standing very tall and very broad with black hair and streaks of white from the stresses of battle and politics, has a long scar running down his back. Personality-Rand is a grizzled war veteran fighting many wars before being knighted, he is a honorable man who believes in doing whats right as well as treating his opponents with honor and dignity. But he has a soft spot for his sister and the queen often letting either get away with what they wish. Magic- N/A Abilities- Blade Master:Rand is death incarnate on the battlefield with a sword, there are few like him. Tactician: As a knight sometimes you are required to lead, and Rand has led many sieges and battles before. Mounted Combat:there are very few who can match a knight on a horse. Weaknesses- Rand has a soft heart for his sister and the queen if they were to be targeted, he would become enraged or saddened History-Rand was born on a farm to two people who couldn't be happier to see him brought into the world, they taught Rand all he knew about the farm. At age seven his little sister Rose was brought into the world bringing the family of 3 up to 4,, although Rand was jealous at first of all the attention his sister was getting his father sat him down and told him about all the happiness she could bring into the family. This made Rand much happier and for seven years they were inseparable, he taught his sister all he knew about the farm in that time until a rival kingdom came to the farm and set upon it. Rand and his little sister hid nearby and Rand watched as they slaughtered their family burned down the farm and salted the earth after witnessing the horror that went on, him and his sister set out for town. When they got to the small little hamlet Rand left his sister in the care of a trusted family friend, and joined the military at age 15 he had gone through training and was officially a soldier in the military a man-at-arms for the kingdom. He fought in many battles against the kingdoms enemies and was acknowledged for his heroism in many sieges, at age 17 he was taken in to be a knights squire and the old knight taught him how to be a master with the blade, how to become one with your sword arm and through him Rand became a great swordsmen striking fear into the hearts of his enemies, with his master on the battlefield. Eventually at age 23 getting himself knighted by the king himself, but feeling alone and empty after years of blood shed he sought out his sister. And eventually found her he used his pull in the castle to get his sister a job as the youngest princesses personal servant. And there they were they hadn't seen each other in six years and together they were again him and his sister caught up on all the things they missed in each others lives, and when the king died Rand swore his blade in the service to the queen promising to protect her with his life.
23,834	685	55	686	2,548	La fille a saisi la fleur, la regardant et souriant à la femme avant de la mettre dans sa bouche, pensant que c'était de la nourriture. "Lily" dit-elle hors de nulle part avec la fleur encore dans sa bouche.	excuses for placing them now and not sooner, busy live Name- Azoth Gray Age- 21 Gender- male Race- Human Occupation- Wetboy (magic using assassin specializing with poisons but also good with swords and such) Appearance- Personality- , fearless, smart, WIP (big chance I will work this out during the rp if allowed) Magic- Yes, a Magic used by Wetboy's called the Talent, the magic uses the mana without using spells and works trough the users skin: it has a lot of functions depending on the user and the one that learned the user, such as: sticking and crawling on walls and ceilings, increasing strength, speed and agility (level is also depending on user's choices, Azoth tends to go towards speed and agility but has a higher strength currently due to the training he had gotten from his teacher that loved strength), each talent user can break light fall in dark areas and in the night making them hard to see, it was not invisibility but of people did not started to look for the weak points, they generally never see the person unless by pure chance, they can all walk without making a sound, see in the night perfectly and more as these things (have not thought everything out fully but this gives a pretty clear view of its limits and uses I think) Abilities- sword master, poison master, skilled assassin, able to act pretty good, good with secrets. Weaknesses- he tends to care for others what is a bad thing for his line of work, that is good but still, a little obsessive about the details of his job, when he gets stressed/ nervous and such things he starts eating raw garlic, having a special pouch for it, also has a habit to lock things 3x in a row before he is satisfied, always cautious, maybe a little to much, setting traps and so much more, trough this has kept him alive, trough he feels no fear he is also smart enough to take in risk and avoid dangers, but he can make calculation mistakes due to the lack of fear. History- Azoth was born in the slumps of the kingdom an area where prostitutes roamed the streets and most kids living on the streets were born and abandon by their prostitute mother. the kids only had each other to live and it was a hard live. Azoth by this time even had a different name but was secluded from the others so no one even knew it, they all just said "boy" or "kid" if they needed him, most this was to work together to mug a drunk man late at night. One day, when Azoth was 8, a man walked dressed in black walked trough the streets and for the first time the ambush failed, it did not take long before the kids realized the man was an assassin, and not long after did Azoth realized the man was more then an a mere assassin, whispering the word "wetboy" the man had apparently increased his hearing as he had heard Azoth, smiled and said yes to the boy trough he was hiding in the shadows, actually looking Azoth in his eyes. Then the man looked at the gang's leader and started to talk, explaining the ambush entire set up into detail and had everything right, then he asked the leader, who had thought this up, to which the leader pointed to Azoth. The man smiled again "smart kid" he said. He turned to face Azoth and sat down to look the boy into his eyes. most would be terrified but Azoth was not, he had experienced things enough to have lost his sense of fear, he was ready to die, and dying by the hands of a wetboy would be the closest he thought to die with a sense of honor, a wetboy would kill him, nothing better could happen to his live he thought. But things went different, the man smiled more, lifted Azoth's face, turned it to see all sides of his face and then whispered something Azoth had never thought he would ever hear "become my apprentice" Azoth had seen an escape from his current hell of a live and took it right away. from there on he exited one hell to enter an other one. the man had him training 8 hours a day, study 4 hours on poisons, train an other 3, the rest of the day were rests and free but at times the man even went so far as to give Azoth other lessons and such, hell the man even broke his sleep often by attacking Azoth while he was sleeping, teaching Azoth to be aware of his surroundings even sleeping. nothing came to him easy and the man was never satisfied, still Azoth grew at a high rate, learning magic faster then most due to the training the man gave him and in time Azoth started to get his own personal jobs, the first deader was to kill a lord and make it seem like a accident, something that almost went bad as a woman entered the room, Azoth was forced to kill her as well. he was not allowed to wash his hands after that until the blood had flaked of his hands by time, a sign that he truly has become a wetboy. he learned a lot from that, take some more time to observe the deader and his natural live so he knows what to expect and prevent the death of an innocent. then In time he had learned all he could learn and became independent, having to learn his own Talent skills and his own way of killing.
23,835	685	56	324	1,204	C'est pas vrai. "Lily, j'adore ça." Rose a dit en regardant Lily. Soudain Lily mit la fleur dans sa bouche. Rose n'a pas pu s'empêcher de rire. Elle secoua la tête sur Lily. "Tu n'es pas supposée manger ça, Lily." Elle a pris la fleur de Lily et l'a sentie, fermant les yeux comme elle l'a fait. Puis Rose a remis la fleur à Lily. "Rand, peut-elle rester avec nous? Je peux m'occuper d'elle et de toutes les responsabilités. S'il te plaît?" Elle a demandé, avec un léger ton de mendicité. Sa tête traversait une liste de sorts qu'elle pouvait utiliser. Il y en avait un qui donnait à quelque chose le pouvoir de parler sa langue. Peut-être que ça marcherait? Elle devrait d'abord emmener Lily chez elle.	Name- Princess Serena Grandhelm of Estoria Age- 21 Gender- female Race- human Occupation- Eldest princess of kingdom Estoria Personality- Serena is adventurous and brave. She tends to speak her mind whenever she believes in something, despite the consequences. She is far from your average princess. In public, Serena pretends to be delicate and courteous. She hates letting people down and is extremely hard working. Serena also has her gentle side. She is extremely compassionate and loving but tends to hide that side from others. Magic- No magic Abilities- She is wickedly smart, from being raised with the best education in the kingdom. She extremely virtuous and loves music. However, only her sister Aribelle knows about her passion. Weaknesses- Although Serena’s personality is strong, she lacks a physical fighting ability. She is small and puny. History- Serena is the eldest princess of Grandhelm. She grew up as a stubborn and strong minded princess. She hates to follow the punctilious rules of being a princess but she still tries her best. She thought her life would be the same boring princess life forever. Until she met Finn, an Elf prince visiting the kingdom. Finn was a new opportunity for Serena to have an adventurous life. Serena fell in love right away. When the king passed away, Serena was devastated and afraid. She spent a lot of time with her younger sister, Aribelle, as they got through the hard times. Having an older sibling, Serena never thought she would get the opportunity to become the queen of the kingdom. Until her brother denied the throne and Serena was offered it. Due to the discrimination against elves, Serena knew she couldn’t be the queen and be with Finn. The decision wasn't hard for Serena, she knew where her heart stood. She decided to reject the offer and be with Finn, even though their love was in secret. ***************************************************************** Name- Rose Thorel Age- 17 Gender- female Race- Human Occupation- Personal servant to the queen Personality- Rose loves her family and friends. She has a caring and sweet heart for everyone around her. She always tries to make people smile and enjoy themselves. She hates seeing people sad or upset. Rose is also very protective of her love ones. She will never stand by and watch them get hurt. She always does her best to protect them with her gift, even if they are unaware of her saving them. Magic- Rose is a witch in secret. She is not like other witches, she was born able to use magic without training. She is an exception to the world of magic. Rose is able to perform spells from her spell book and also has the gift to see glimpses into the future. Abilities- She is able to cheer up most people by her affectionate aura. She is also one of the best seamstresses in the kingdom. She makes good money sewing for people. Weaknesses- Rose has gigantic weakness for her brother Rand and the queen. If anyone is in trouble, she will always try to save them, even if it means putting her life at risk. History- Rose grew up as a farmer in the outskirts of the kingdom. Her brother Rand and her had a wonderful childhood, full of happy and cheery memories. Until a neighboring rival kingdom attacked their farm when Rose was seven. They burnt their cozy home and murdered their parents. Rand escaped with Rose to a village where he left her, in the hands of a friendly and considerate old woman named Elisabeth, to join the military. There Rose embraced her gift of magic. When she lived with her parents, they kept her ability secret from everyone, including her brother Rand. The closest neighbor was four miles away, so it wasn’t difficult to keep her magic private. Elisabeth was a witch herself, except not nearly as powerful as Rose was. Elisabeth taught Rose how to control her magic and use it wisely. Rose used Elisabeth’s spell book and eventually inherited it herself. Rose also learned how to sew from Elisabeth, a talent she continues to do. When Rose was 16 years old, her brother Rand, now 23, came back for her. She returned to the kingdom and now lives with Rand. They became closer than ever. Rand found a job for Rose in the kingdom where she met princess Aribelle and instantly became friends with her. Soon after, Rose began getting visions of Aribelle being the new queen. Somehow, Rose knew she needed to protect her, so became Aribelle’s personal servant. About a year later, Rose’s vision came true and Aribelle took the throne. Rose knows that Aribelle will become a powerful queen, but whether she will be good or evil is unknown. Rose uses her secret gift to watch over the queen and protect her from evil lurking in unknown places.
23,836	685	57	1,072	4,551	Oui, allez-y, monsieur le nain, la reine a dit à l'ambassadeur dwarven, lui permettant de continuer avec le message pour lequel il est venu ici. Il est vite devenu évident qu'il faisait un mauvais travail pour vendre cette offre, donc peut-être n'était-il pas le meilleur ambassadeur que le roi aurait pu envoyer s'il savait comment cela fonctionnerait. Pourtant, une ambassadrice honnête était rafraîchissante, selon elle. Mieux que de mentir à travers ses dents pour essayer de faire croire que ce traité de paix conduirait à une sorte d'utopie. Elle a lu la lettre pour obtenir plus de détails. C'était scandaleux en effet, même par sa compréhension limitée. Son royaume serait brisé juste pour payer pour la terre qui était légitimement la leur avant que cette guerre horrible commence. Autant qu'elle voulait la paix, elle ne pouvait pas l'accepter comme elle est. Peut-être sonner dur va-t-il s'en sortir? "Vous dites au roi nain que s'il ne veut pas entrer dans une guerre avec le Royaume de Kaer et les Elfes aussi, il ferait mieux de repenser ce montant à un niveau juste et réaliste." Bien sûr, ils n'ont pas encore consolidé un accord, surtout avec les elfes, mais j'espère que ce serait la vérité assez tôt. "Si c'est tout, je suis très occupé à parler au roi Alexandre." Elle hoche le jeune homme debout en dehors d'elle, confirmant son identité pour lui. Cela ajouterait peut-être au facteur d'intimidation.	Name- Sonorus "Son" Carver Age- 21 Gender- Male Race- Human Occupation- Queen's Adviser Appearance- -Yes, he does wear a black hood with garments all the time. A distinct feature of Sonorus is the tattoo located beneath his left eye. It is also noticeable that Sonorus' eyes are constantly red. Personality- Son often shows two characteristics. When facing those with higher authority than him, he is noticeably polite and humble; often saying praises and speaking in a low tone... However, when he faces those who are lower than him, his demeanor changes drastically. He, now, speaks in harsh and incessant words; gleefully spouting insults and grim words at those he faces. However, his position has an adviser, of course, speaks for his talents. Son is a shrewd person who, sometimes, dictates plans and/or actions which benefit him rather than the queen. By the way, Son has an immense hatred for dwarves, and will happily watch them burn. Magic- Touch of Decay Son's magic is a powerful yet dangerous ability. Anything that comes into contact with his skin will begin to decay if the contact is prolonged; ranging from metals to wood, as long as it touches his skin long enough, it will be reduced to a pile of ash. However, the limitations are quit obvious. He can only destroy things that he can actually touch, as well as, it would actually take a solid minute to completely decompose a target. Furthermore, assuming that he actually fully decomposed a target, he cannot decay anything else using the same body part for a longer duration. For example, Son completely decomposes a sword using his right hand, after decomposing, Son cannot decompose anything else using his right hand for a few minutes. Drawbacks are obvious as friendly fire can actually occur. That is why Son is careful not to touch any of his allies while his ability is active. There is also a VERY important weakness to Son's ability, which will be discussed in the later categories. Son's magic is sealed within the tattoo beneath his left eye, and as such, he can activate and deactivate his magic at will. People can know whether his magic is active or not by looking at his tattoo; if it's glowing, the magic is active, and by looking at Son's skin. If a skin is particularly BLACKish in color, then that part can cause decay. Abilities- Dagger Mastery- Son is a talented wielder of a dagger or a knife, and specializes in knife combat. He uses fake movements to feign weakness or attacks, only to recoil and strike somewhere else. Intelligence- Son has a decent level of intelligence which allows him to see through deception or other agendas by thinking hard about it. Culinary Mastery- Son is a talented chef, and as such, he sometimes prepares the queen's meals or snacks. Basic Medic Training- Son has some skill when it comes to first-aids or minor wounds, but beyond that, he is clueless. Weaknesses- As mentioned, there is a great flaw in Son's ability. For one, he can only send his ability of decomposition to a SINGLE body part at a time. Which means, after draining his right hand's ability to decompose, he needs to send it to other body parts in order to defend himself. This means that multiple opponents can greatly impede Son's ability as they can strike from multiple directions while Son can only channel his ability to one body part at a time. Furthermore, Son is secretly bound by an oath, as a result of his magic, to never tell anything untrue. Should Son say anything untrue, his body will begin to decay until he corrects the untruth. History: Before the untimely death of the king, in the army of the High Tower served two generals... Husband and Wife. Their names were long forgotten, or rather, the people chose to forget them because of the deed that they had done to dishonor the army. These two generals were sent to battle those cursed dwarves once more. The outcome was what they expected; a victory against those foul bastards. However, the wife was missing when the victory horn was sounded. The husband panicked, wishing to find his other half. According to scouts, they had last seen the female general battling a group of dwarves, and after that, she was missing over the moors. The man roared in anger as he gathered his entire battalion, much to the anger and refusal of the other generals, and led his troops to the moors to find his wife. Once they were at the moors, the man saw his wife's silhouette from the center of the marsh, and with that, he stepped forward to take a closer look. To the man's delight, it was his wife! However, another figure emerged from the shadows and stood behind the woman. It was as if time stopped at that moment. The man's desperate cries fell on deaf ears as a rusty knife was lifted into the air, and it cut through the wife's throat; the corpse of the fallen general slumped lifelessly to the murky waters; never to be seen again. The general was enraged; very enraged. Without thinking of anything else, he ordered his troops to charge the dwarf. The soldiers were reluctant but they advanced, only to realize that it was a trap... From the shadows of the trees and shrubbery, the dwarven scum emerged and began to cut down the alarmed humans. Long story short, out of the hundred men he took to the moors, only ten returned alive; the general included. The man knew that it was only a matter of time before he would be executed, and as such, he went to his son, Sonorus, that night. The son was extremely devastated by the events, and with only little to lose, the boy agreed to a forbidden ritual. The father sealed his own ability to his son, the magic of decay kept bound by a single tattoo which made residence beneath the boy's left eye. The father then called the boy 'Son', a name that the boy would keep as long as he lives. The rise of the morning sun also marked the fall of a head... the father's head. It rolled silently along the bloodstained ground as the executioner lifted it up and tossed it around those who hated the man... Unknown to them, Son was actually watching... his teeth gritted in rage, his eyes blazed with wrath at seeing the corpse of his father desecrated... From that moment on, he swore ruin upon the humans and dwarves alike... he did not have a true purpose, but those two objectives were what satisfied his unquenchable rage for the mean time. The boy worked his way up, taking the path of the kingdom's politicians... There, he bled and sweated day and night in order to get the highest position possible to manipulate the King... until, the king, himself, died. Son was quite devastated... who would he manipulate now? It would be hard... or would it? Apparently, the one who would succeed the throne is a young girl... a queen. Son smiled that night... this would be easy; his eyes shimmering in the moonlight, excited for what was to come from a naive but interesting woman.
23,837	685	58	658	1,163	Alex sentit un grondement grandir sur son visage quand il entendit les termes que le roi nain voulait mettre fin à la guerre. Alex a pensé à lui-même "Cela montre à quel point votre leadership est pauvre quand votre ambassadeur n'aime pas vos politiques." Alex a ensuite pris place pour se préparer à parler à la reine.	Name- King Alexander Gildone Age- 24 Gender- Male Race- Human Occupation- King of a Kaer Appearance- Personality- calm collective and somewhat mysterious Magic- no Abilities- he is really good at strategy, and a strong fighter with a sword Weaknesses- does not know magic, doesn't like talking about his father's stepping down from the throne. History- Alex had a tough life growing up. His father trained him to be a King from a young age. The training was hard and strict. Alex didn't understand until he turned 21 and his father told him that he was stepping down from the throne and Alex was taking his place. The reason why his father stepped down is still only known by the royal family, which has created some rumors going around the Kingdom. This made it harder for Alex to rule, but over a few years he was able to win the people over. When the King died Alex knew that he would have to set up another treaty with the new queen, so he traveled to the kingdom to talk to the new queen about the future of trade in between the two kingdoms.
23,838	686	0	1,465	1,197	Il semblait si soudain, mais rapidement le message était passé le long, le commandant Paladin de Therra Enclave a envoyé pour Reina et Lyra. Il y avait des mots chuchotés et des regards de types mixtes, tandis que certains les regardaient avec respect et foi, d'autres leur donnaient des questions et des regards réfléchis. Tout le monde connaissait les rumeurs - du "purificateur" qui était captif à Hebetude - donc bien sûr les autres Paladins les regardaient, les taillent et se demandent s'ils étaient bons pour la mission. Apparemment, le commandant avait cru que c'était le cas et quelles que soient les opinions du vétéran Paladins, ce sont eux qui avaient été appelés. Au bout d'un long couloir, deux lourdes portes en chêne étaient assises avec Paladin Ryn, garde debout, comme il l'a toujours fait, et ils les poussaient tous les deux à attendre un moment. Il n'avait jamais beaucoup parlé et voyait qu'il n'était pas seulement le gardien personnel du commandant, mais aussi son accompagnateur dans de nombreuses affaires. Il y avait des rumeurs selon lesquelles Ryn et Paladin Commander Tobias étaient des amoureux secrets, mais comme beaucoup de rumeurs, ils n'avaient jamais été vraiment confirmés. Après tout, il était difficile de voir la vision noire et musclée que Ryn était au lit avec le commandant; un homme stoïque, rigide et de style militaire, principalement parce que les deux semblaient trop masculins l'un pour l'autre. Finalement, après quelques instants, Ryn ouvrit les portes pour les deux dames et les déplaça. À l'intérieur se trouvait le bureau du commandant, qui avait été étonnamment humble dans son installation. Il y avait un bureau d'épinette robuste à l'extrémité de la pièce, deux fenêtres qui laissent entrer la lumière, et très simple (si confortable) tapissant le sol. Sur les côtés, il y avait des étagères pleines de livres - de la tactique aux notes sur la nouvelle menace des morts-vivants. En effet, il semblait que le commandant Paladin n'était pas sur le luxe dans sa position, mais plutôt sur le devoir. Alors assis l'homme d'âge moyen, griffonnant sur un morceau de papier de message, avec ses cheveux légèrement grisants, une posture ferme, et l'intention focalisée sur sa tâche à portée de main. Au début, il ne les a même pas reconnus, trempant sa plume dans l'encre quelques fois comme il l'a écrit. "Vous pouvez vous asseoir, si vous voulez", a-t-il dit, apparemment en terminant le parchemin avec sa propre signature. Levant les yeux, il regarda les deux femmes, sans se soucier si elles avaient accepté ou non son offre. Il savait que les Paladins étaient de tous types, des chevaliers appropriés aux ex-pirates comme Reina, de sorte qu'il ne se préoccupait pas de petits détails comme la façon dont ils se conduisaient - tant qu'ils suivaient les ordres et respectaient les officiers des Enclaves. Finalement, il a bien placé la plume dans l'encre et s'est penché vers l'avant sur le bureau, en déplaçant le papier de son chemin pour qu'il puisse plier ses mains devant lui. "Vous savez pourquoi vous avez été convoqué, j'en suis sûr, donc je vais simplement en arriver là. Voyagez à Hebetude, trouvez la vérité derrière ce "purificateur", et si elle ou lui est réelle, puis ramenez-les ici." Le commandant s'est arrêté, ne l'a laissé entrer qu'un instant. « Avant d'aller, la réponse évidente à la raison pour laquelle vous deux êtes simplement cela; nous sommes l'Enclave la plus proche et vous avez tous les deux prouvé votre valeur. Alors, continua-t-il avec un regard constant, à moins que vous n'ayez d'autres questions, vous êtes renvoyé. Préparez-vous pour votre voyage. Vous partirez au coucher du soleil." La forêt menant à Hebetude était épaisse et pas facile à naviguer, mais heureusement pour les deux femmes, elles avaient reçu des conseils et des cartes par les scouts Paladin qui avaient trouvé le royaume quelques fois avant la main. Finalement, les deux sont arrivés à une clairière et la vue du château est apparue soudainement. Ils avaient trouvé le lac au milieu de la forêt et le château était assis à l'éloft une formation de terre et de roche, ce qui en ferait un endroit qui serait extrêmement difficile à assiéger. C'était beau en elle-même, même si la terre était dépourvue de couleur qu'elle avait autrefois et le froid de l'air bit brusquement. Alors qu'ils approchaient ensemble des portes, plusieurs gardes et même un chevalier les stoppèrent, des flèches pointaient vers eux et des lames tiraient. Le chevalier s'avança, bien qu'il gardât sa distance, les rendant tous nerveux et effrayés. "La moitié! Qu'est-ce que vous faites ici!" Donc d'ici, vous deux avez le contrôle sur les gardes et le chevalier, il suffit de noter qu'ils sont tous nerveux et effrayés par les récentes attaques de morts-vivants et surtout par la présence de Joslyn. Vous pouvez parler de votre façon d'entrer ou d'utiliser la force brute, mais comme n'importe quoi - les actions ont des conséquences. Aussi une fois que vous êtes dedans, vous découvrirez (tout ce que vous voulez) que Joslyn est gardé dans le temple d'Arete - être littéralement gardé et scellé dans pour des raisons inconnues par le roi. De là, vous pouvez essayer de convaincre les gardes de vous laisser entrer ou d'essayer votre main pour convaincre le roi de la laisser partir.	Alias: Purifier Age: 25 Occupation: Scholar Location: The small kingdom Hebetude; a secluded castle and couple villages buried into the eastern forests. While the dead took their time weaving through the trees, it also makes it naturally difficult to dispatch Paladins to the location as well. Personality: Joslyn is a unique sort, one you might wave off as not confident, meek, and shy. Though she is more passive in her personality when it comes to strangers and her introverted nature makes her less out going as others, she is surprisingly confident in herself and straight to the point. Believing in honesty and love, Joslyn has a kind aura to her that sometimes makes others want to take advantage of that, but often find themselves at odds when she stands up for herself. She enjoys making others smile and most of all, is a romantic at heart - though this side of her has been embittered by rejections from all manner of people; family, friends, and lovers. Likes: Reading, watching waterfalls, helping others, flirting, deep discussions Dislikes: Immoral behavior, hot weather, insects (especially spiders), being alone Deity: Arete, Goddess of Virtue Abilities: Joslyn was given spell-like abilities of purification, able to return the dead to rest, demons to their planes of existence, and harm those of evil hearts. Skills: Joslyn is mostly skilled in lore as one of the more learned scholars. Beyond this though, she only has basic survival and stealth skills. Background Joslyn grew up in one of the farm houses outside Hebetude's castle walls. Her life started in a downward spiral since childhood, having an non-attentive mother and a busy father, which made her more shy than she had been naturally. By the time she opened up to other children, they saw her as a weak target and she easily became the blunt of their teasing and when not being teased, they simply chose to ignore her presence at all. She learned quickly that being around most children was a bad idea and instead kept to herself at the farm stead. When she wasn't helping mother cook or do housework, she sought out the books lined in the study and buried herself within the written words. Her coming of age brought many things to her life. At the age of twelve, she was given the opportunity to stay with her family or find apprenticeship elsewhere in the castle grounds and given her poor relations with her parents and no friends, she chose to apprentice under the local scholar of the kingdom. Joslyn had figured she might as well do something she enjoyed in reading and researching than spend days at a farm with people that mostly ignored her. In truth, Scholar James was her first true friend and mentor, being some decades older than she was. Still she enjoyed her time under his study, learning of myths, legends, histories, prophecies, and anything one might want research - it was the scholar's duty to provide advice on learned subjects. However this time in her life had been mildly confusing as well as young men began to flirt with her (though to be honest, they were few), because she did not find interest in any of them, but instead seemed to pay far more attention to the other young women. Eventually, she even found a friend and potential lover in one of them, until the girl's parents learned of what she was doing with Joslyn. They had forced her away from the young scholar, leaving Joslyn quite alone once more. It didn't help Joslyn's mood that this happened a few more times, finding companionship in other women only for it to be torn away from her. When rumors of the living dead came rushing to Hebetude, the small kingdom chose to hole themselves inside the forest, posting more guards and making it generally more difficult for trade caravans to come through. They increased some of their production to make up for the loss, but the people were all too happy to obey if it meant not facing moving skeletons. The kingdom lived in a half-dazed fear for five full years until finally the undead broke through the forest and started to spill into the small kingdom. Until recently, they had only been few and far between, giving the small group of knights a fair chance at defending themselves. However in the recent months, it seems the waves of walking dead have increased to a gross amount, making it extremely hard for the knights to even protect the borders - in which Joslyn finally started to show signs of something amiss. Everyone heard rumors of the Paladins and their gifts, but never once heard of the same burst of light that Joslyn had produced one fateful day. If it hadn't been for her ability to wipe out a small battlion, she would surely be dead - but now the king has ordered her to be held up in the temple of Arete, afraid to lose his one advantage against the hordes.
23,839	686	1	126	59	Reina Lockwood Alors que la blonde Paladin sortait du bureau de son commandant, un sourire dansait sur ses lèvres roses, défiant et goddy et ravi tout d'un coup. Il y avait une étincelle visible dans ses yeux qui aurait pu éclairer le ciel sombre, et une source dans son pas qui trahissait son enthousiasme. C'était un look qui est devenu infâme dans l'enclave Therra, un qui a signifié la difficulté était brassage. Si les autres Paladins la voyaient maintenant, ils tourneraient sans aucun doute la queue; ils avaient appris il y a longtemps qu'il valait mieux laisser la question d'une Reina dans les mains responsables de Lyra. Il y aurait moins de dégâts de cette façon. "Alors, tu as entendu ça, Ryn? Tobi m'a vraiment complimenté!" Elle s'est jouée au Paladin plus âgé, mais n'a reçu que le silence en réponse. Parfois, elle se demandait comment l'autre Paladin pouvait ne pas parler pendant si longtemps. Sa salive doit sûrement s'assécher comme ça! Reina a dégagé sa gorge avant de continuer, abaissant sa voix dans un imitateur très pauvre du commandant. "Tu as prouvé ta valeur," a-t-il dit! Et là, je pensais qu'il me détestait!" Ryn les a vus dans le long couloir, ignorant le bavardage non sensé de Reina comme toujours. Mais elle n'était pas fascinée. Son stoïcisme persistant n'a fait qu'alimenter sa détermination. Cinq ans qu'elle était à l'Enclave et qu'elle ne l'avait jamais fait craquer un sourire. Elle y avait travaillé dur, et elle était un peu déçue qu'elle ait mis ce but en attente temporaire. Mais c'était probablement pour le mieux. Après son retour avec succès avec le Purifier et qu'ils sauvent le monde, Ryn n'aurait plus de raison d'être le bâton dans le mur qu'il est! Reina s'est bien amusée, la promesse d'aventure la faisant redevenir giddy. Le poids de leur devoir n'a pas été perdu pour elle — et si jamais cela arrive au point qu'il l'a fait, elle savait que Lyra serait là pour lui rappeler — mais il était difficile de calmer l'agitation en elle. C'était l'occasion qu'elle attendait, la voie sûre pour sauver les âmes de sa famille. Elle n'était pas tout à fait certaine qu'ils seraient damnés par les dieux, mais elle se sentait obligée de le faire. Pour la paix de l'esprit, pour la fermeture. Quelle que soit la raison, elle a dû passer à travers cette mission. "Rencontrez-vous à l'avant dans cinq minutes," Reina a appelé à Lyra. Ils ont marché pendant trois nuits et deux jours. Tandis que les portes du château de Hebetude se profilaient à l'horizon, Reina sentit une poussée d'énergie à travers son corps. C'était tout; ils n'étaient qu'à un jet de pierre de leur sauveur. Elle pouvait encore se rappeler quand elle a entendu les rumeurs pour la première fois, les murmures assoiffés étant répandus par quelques-uns qui osaient espérer. Une personne bénie douée du pouvoir de purifier la terre. C'était trop beau pour être vrai, mais Reina y croyait immédiatement. Reina secoua un soupir à leur fête d'accueil, ses yeux bleus vifs évaluant de manière experte leur nombre. Au total, cinq gardes flanquaient les murs, des flèches frappaient et leur but était vrai, tandis que trois autres gardes et un chevalier avaient leurs lames prêtes. Ses poings s'accrochèrent inconsciemment, éteignant l'éclair qui surgissait à travers chaque bout de doigt, et elle regarda Lyra pour rassembler un peu de sang-froid. Chaque fibre de son être l'a exhortée à aller de l'avant et à se battre. Les gardes avaient peur, ce n'était que trop évident. Elle serait capable de les sortir dans un battement de cœur, et deux fois plus vite avec Lyra. Mais leur cagosité a rendu la situation tout aussi problématique. La peur tendait à déformer le jugement des gens, et on ne savait pas ce qu'ils feraient à une paire de paladins nosy cherchant leur purificateur. Dans des situations comme celles-ci, Auran lui avait appris qu'il valait mieux faire appel à leur miséricorde. Cela inciterait le parti effrayé à croire qu'il a un certain pouvoir, et à son tour, ce sentiment d'assurance, aussi léger soit-il, aiderait à les rendre plus rationnels. "S'il vous plaît! Nous cherchons refuge!" Reina s'approcha doucement, regardant le chevalier avec des yeux implorants. Elle a lâché les épaules, feignant l'épuisement et reflétant leur peur. "Ma sœur et moi avons voyagé toute la nuit. S'il vous plaît, nous ne durerons pas une minute de plus ici." Bien que les gardes n'aient pas largué leurs armes, le chevalier méfiant a avancé. Il n'avait pas l'air complètement convaincu, mais à en juger par l'emprise relâchée autour de son épée, il était très près de se relâcher.	Reina Lockwood Age: 20 Occupation: Ex-Pirate and brawler Enclave location: Therra Enclave Personality: Reina is like a thunderstorm: unpredictable, wild, and dynamic. More than anything, it is her whims that drive her and passion that fuels her. She tends to get swept up in the moment and acts before thinking things through, a fatal flaw that is only exacerbated by her devil-may-care attitude. Reckless and heedless of consequences, she is flippant in the face of danger—it's the way of the (ex) pirate!—and trusts completely in her abilities to escape any predicaments she might get herself into. Suffice it to say, Reina is the type to live for the moment. She struts about like she has nary a care in the undead-ridden world, with a challenging grin on her lips and a spark of mischief ever-present in her eyes. She's charming when she wants to be, cunning when she has to be, and playful at all times. But sometimes, there are cracks visible in her buoyant façade. A hint of loneliness and sadness that could have only come from heartbreak. It clouds her smile for a brief moment, then she's back to cracking jokes and spouting nonsense. Likes: Listening to stories Teasing Sweets The ocean Watching the stars Dislikes: The cold Having nothing to do Being alone Deity: Vihm, the weather goddess, better known by the merchant navy and the pirates as the Sea Witch. She is said to be as mercurial as the tides, vengeful and fearsome one moment, magnanimous and indulging the next. Incurring her wrath means certain doom and a grave beneath the waves, while receiving her favor assures safe passage across the rough seas, Abilities: The weather goddess has bestowed upon Reina the wind at her feet and lightning in her hands. With superhuman agility and lightning coursing through her veins, Reina becomes an unparalleled fighter able to run circles around the undead and knock them flat with her fists. Skills: Spatial and visual acuity, or in layman's terms, the ability to never get lost. Life at sea has honed Reina's navigational skills and she has become adept at gleaning pertinent information by surveying her surroundings. She can scale walls or trees or anything high with relative ease She's also pretty good at winning people over (and just as good at making enemies, it seems) Background: A street urchin, a thief, a pirate, and now a paladin. Reina never would have expected to live so many different lives. Abandoned at an early age by desperate parents already struggling to survive, Reina grew up calling the streets of the port town Azmarin her home. It was there that she learned the value of a charming smile and quick fingers; no one ever accused the happy, little beggar girl of pilfering. For someone who grew up without four walls and a roof, Reina could say she lived rather comfortably. She had never wanted for anything; her meals were supplied by the generous townspeople (sometimes intentionally, as they invite her in their homes for supper, and sometimes not, as she uses their coin to purchase fresh food from the market) and she spent most of her time meandering about town in search of targets, or playing at the shores of the Blessed Sea. Reina was eleven when the self-proclaimed pirate king took notice of her talents. She had bitten off more than she could chew when she tried stealing from one of the crates being loaded onto his infamous vessel, The Llyr-vihm, but the challenge had been too great to neglect. The pirate king Auran caught her just as she was about to slip away with a bagful of his trinkets. He only smiled as he grabbed her by the collar and dragged her back to the deck, cutting a menacing but somehow awe-inspiring figure as he brandished his falchion and pointed it at her. She was given two options: pledge fealty to the pirate king or meet with the Sea Witch beneath the waves. Piracy came surprisingly easy to her. The skills she obtained in the narrow streets of Azmarin turned out to be translatable. Charm, a quick tongue, and even quicker fingers made her an indispensable asset. She would be the bait, the one they sent out to lower guards, or the one they carried aboard other ships to ransack every tiny nook and cranny. Reina had unexpectedly found a family in the Llyr-vihm's fearsome crew. It became apparent to her early on that they were not the vicious, cutthroats they were painted as, at least not entirely. Necessity had forced this hand on them—an ailing wife that needs medicine, two newborns that need financial support—and who was she to judge their means of survival? She had been doing the same thing. Besides, it was difficult not to get attached to the motley crew with their colorful personalities, and even harder not to admire their stalwart captain. In return, Auran had grown especially fond of her, as well. For the girl who reminded him of the daughter he lost at sea, he begged the Sea Witch for a blessing. He sacrificed relics to earn this favor and the Sea Witch, feeling magnanimous that day, obliged, but under one condition. The blessing will only take effect after the pirate king makes good on his final promise. Word of the undead rising came months late in the sea, and the crew erupted in panic and fear once they knew. After they disembarked at a nearby port town, many rushed to visit their families and loved ones, but it was too late. The walking dead had done away with the smaller towns, sparing no one in their rampage. Within a short year in the accursed land, the crew's number had dwindled to a handful. Auran thought it best to return to Llyr-vihm and escape to the waters, where the undead could not reach them, but before they could reach the vessel, hordes of the walking dead had surrounded them. Five became four, four became three, until finally, there was only Reina and Auran. Reina was certain it was the end. She thanked the Sea Witch for her wonderful life and her wonderful captain and prepared herself for the worst. But it never came, at least not for her. Auran had protected her until the end, shielding her with his body, and this final sacrificial act had awakened the dormant blessing of the goddess Vihm. As Auran fell, Reina felt a surge of power within her, taking over her body. She doesn't remember what happened next, but word has it that she had gone straight through the horde, defeating those that stood in her way. When she came to, she found herself at an Enclave, days later, with Auran and the rest of the crew all gone. With nowhere else to go, Reina remained at the Enclave, learning the ways of the paladin. She heard from one of the paladins that those who have sinned were cursed with eternal punishment, and so Reina began focusing her efforts on making reparations for the whole crew. Surely, if she helps rid the world of the undead, the gods could grant her that favor?
23,840	686	2	2,604	226	>:< Lyra Andulin >:< Lyra a suivi quelques pas derrière Reina alors qu'ils ont laissé l'offre de leurs commandants. Comme Reina elle aussi tenait un sourire doux sur ses lèvres. Le sentiment de joie et de fierté la submerge alors que leur commandant les croyait les mieux qualifiés pour cette mission la plus importante. Étant donné le passé de Lyra avec son propre père à son arrivée dans l'enclave de Therra, elle a rapidement pris au commandant comme une figure presque père; quelqu'un qu'elle souhaitait l'avait élevée au lieu de son propre père. Mais ce n'était qu'un secret pour elle-même et pour personne d'autre. Elle mourrait de l'embarras de quiconque l'a découvert. Cette approbation a donc été énormément appréciée par la jeune Lyra. Bien que sa propre giddyness ait été rapidement distrait alors qu'elle regardait Reina harceler le pauvre Ryn. Lyra gémit tranquillement sous son souffle car elle savait que Ryn n'aimait pas la petite conversation. Comme Reina a continué son bavardage Lyra a laissé sortir un petit chanfrein. D'une manière ou d'une autre, son stupide bantre et le visage de Ryn étaient assez comiques pour Lyra. Elle a essayé de se couvrir rapidement la bouche avant le rire, mais elle était trop tard, voyant Ryn pic de retour à son désapprobation. Elle s'est vite redressée et a regardé ailleurs, agissant comme si ce voyou était quelqu'un d'autre. Bien que cela n'en ait fait que plus drôle et qu'elle ait presque ri à nouveau. Heureusement, ils sont arrivés au bout du couloir et elle soupira d'un souffle de soulagement. Elle a regardé Reina s'enfuir rapidement et l'a rappelée. "D'accord! J'attendrai!" Elle a rappelé à Reina. Soulignant le fait qu'elle va attendre, sachant qu'elle serait là dans 5 minutes et Reina serait modelement en retard. C'est ce que j'ai dit.- Oui. - Oui, c'est ça.- Oui. Comme Hebetude est venu en vue à la distance Lyra légèrement étiré pour obtenir une meilleure vue. Ce n'était pas trop longtemps avant qu'ils soient presque aux portes d'entrée. Son regard balayait rapidement les gardes. Prenant note de leurs postures défensives et instables. Ils semblaient sur le bord, ce qui n'était pas exactement la situation la plus propice pour les étrangers. Cherchant à Reina un indice sur ce qu'elle voulait faire à propos de l'obstacle que son regard tombait sur son poing serré. Presque instinctivement Lyra s'est approchée et a délicatement brossé ses doigts à travers le dos de sa main. Comme si elle lui rappelait que Lyra était là avec elle et qu'elle restait calme. Souriant doucement si Reina décidait de regarder à sa façon. Alors qu'ils étaient arrêtés, elle regarda Reina jouer comme un voyageur fatigué cherchant refuge dans la ville. Notant qu'elle n'a rien mentionné de leur vraie mission. Attraper rapidement seulement à la ruse Lyra légèrement blessé ses bras autour de son abdomen comme si elle luttait contre la faim, également en essayant de paraître faible et faible, moins menaçant et tout cela. -- S'il vous plaît, monsieur? Elle a presque pleuré, ses yeux devenant légèrement brillants et brillants comme sur le bord des larmes. « J'ai tellement faim... » Ses bras se sont légèrement serrés autour de son estomac et lui ont léché légèrement les lèvres, comme si la pensée de la nourriture lui faisait saliver ; jouant de la ruse. Il a fallu quelques instants avant que la Garde en charge n'abaisse finalement sa lame. Il semblait toujours hésitant bien qu'adouci. "Très bien.. Mais si j'entends l'un ou l'autre de vous causer des ennuis, vous devrez vous occuper de moi." L'homme a essayé de paraître intimidant mais sa nervosité intérieure l'a trahi. Lyra a presque téléporté, elle a rapidement et ardemment remercié l'homme alors qu'ils passaient devant les gardes et traversaient les portes. Alors qu'ils commençaient à se cacher avec les rues bondées, elle abandonna sa modeste façade et retourna à la normale. Bien qu'à ce moment-là son estomac grondait assez fort. "Je suppose que cette dernière partie n'était pas vraiment un mensonge.. Voulez-vous obtenir quelque chose à manger? Pendant que nous y sommes, nous allons obtenir des informations sur cette ville et nous préparer pour les prochaines étapes de notre mission?" Elle parlait doucement, en s'assurant qu'elle ne pouvait être entendue que par Reina à ses côtés.	Name / Alias: Lyra Andulin. Age: 20. Occupation: Weapons Master. Enclave location: Therra Enclave. Personality: Lyra is a rather relaxed and spiritualistic person. In any time of high stress she always seems so relaxed, holding firm to her composure. Lyra is usually the first one to put herself in the line of danger to keep those around her safe. She was always considered a motherly, caring figure for those around her. Putting the needs of others always before her own, and always having a smile during it no matter the sacrifice to herself. She is a kind girl, often trying to make jokes in an attempt to keep the morale up within her group. Likes: -She is embarrassingly infatuated with anything that could be considered cute or adorable. -She loves sweets/candies. Anything with the first ingredient being sugar. -Napping is one of her favorite pass times. -When she can't nap she likes to exercise or train her weapons skills. Dislikes: -Super spicy food. -Not being able to nap OR exercise. -Being cold. -Bats. They terrify her. Deity: Khiriis - The God of war and protection. Khiriis is said to be a great warrior wielding a shield and double sided axe. In his lore he was said to have defeated legions of warriors in a single night keeping his kingdom and his people safe. Given his prowess in battle upon his death he was granted Godly status and immortal life within the universe. Abilities: Lyra has attained two magical relics that when swept across the air they leave mystical runes in its path. From the runes left behind Lyra can produce various weapons as if from another dimension. Skills: -Lyra is well skilled in nearly all melee based weapons. -She has basic training with ranged weapons such as throwing knifes and bows. -Survival training is an important discipline within the Therra Enclave. -She is pretty descent at cooking. Background: Given Lyra's current personality no one would really guess she had a rather dark childhood. Given most of her life has lived with the undead she constantly lived on the run with her father. Try all her father might he could never attain the blessings of a Deity. For whatever reason they never gave him the blessings to fight back against the scourge of undead. So in his rage and desire to have some degree of protection against the undead he forced his young daughter, Lyra, to try and find favor from the Gods. At first Lyra was hesitant but her father quickly beat out that hesitation. You would think when she was finally blessed with the Light of Khiriis her father would be happy. But it only fueled his rage that he wasn't accepted and she was. Lyra not knowing how to control her new found power accidentally fought back. From thin air multiple blades emerged and pierced through his chest. Lyra never knew what happened. It all happened in a blur. But they were alone and no one saw what happened or even knew who the two of them were. From then on Lyra survived on her own against the undead. She learned how to fight on her own. It was a painful process but she survived. When she was 18 she was taken into the Therra Enclave as another paladin happened upon a hurt Lyra out in the wilds. From their her skills were refined and she became a true paladin.
23,841	686	3	1,465	1,197	Comme les deux marchaient à l'intérieur des murs du château, il semblait très semblable à d'autres fortifications, bien qu'il fût difficile de ne pas remarquer à quel point il était petit comparé à même Therra Enclave. Les bases étaient cependant présentes; un forgeron, un magasin général, le boucher, une auberge qui a doublé comme une taverne, plusieurs maisons nobles, le château lui-même, et un temple. Il ne serait pas long pour le couple de prendre conscience de l'air tendu à l'intérieur des murs que les gens du commun et les nobles chuchotaient dans des voix effrayantes, scuttling à travers les routes, et plusieurs chevaliers et gardes patrouillent dans les rues. Le bâtiment qui se distinguait le plus était le temple contre le mur est, pas pour sa structure, mais à cause de la quantité de gardes qui se tenaient à la disposition à ses portes - les dalles de pierre barrées avec des grumes de bois pour garder quelque chose ou quelqu'un à l'intérieur. Tout le monde semblait se tenir à l'écart des détails des protecteurs comme s'il craignait que les portes s'ouvrent à tout moment et déclenchent une certaine terreur. De plus, beaucoup de gens regardaient la paire de femmes de façon suspecte, leur donnant une grande naissance pendant qu'ils continuent leurs tâches quotidiennes et leurs courses. Pendant ce temps, à l'intérieur du temple d'Arète... Le temple lui-même était presque vide et dépourvu de quiconque sauf de trois personnes; les deux gardes debout aux portes du temple derrière une petite barricade et ce qui semblait être une femme ordinaire, assis sur les marches menant à l'altération. Elle avait l'air belle dans ses propres cheveux humbles, avec des cheveux brun clair, une peau légèrement bronzée, presque impeccable, et un regard doux dans ses yeux bruns. Cependant, elle semblait pire pour l'usure, sa robe étant légèrement bouchée dans la saleté et la boue, la déchirure des joues ayant fait leur chemin vers le bas de son visage, et une expression fatiguée peinte sur son visage. Elle s'est froncée les genoux et a regardé les gardes de l'autre côté de la pièce. Elle était fatiguée de pleurer en ce moment et pensait seulement à la raison pour laquelle elle était prisonnière comme ça, priant à Arete qu'elle lui montre peut-être une certaine miséricorde - à l'abri d'être traitée comme une sorte d'arme insensible contre des choses qu'elle ne voulait même pas combattre. « Si seulement on ne m'avait pas donné ce cadeau, » pensa-t-elle elle-même, s'attachant les poings à la frustration et à la dépression. Donc, il est assez évident que toute la ville est en bordure. Il est aussi facile de comprendre qu'il pourrait avoir à voir avec le temple d'Arete et le nombre d'hommes affectés pour garder l'entrée. Les chances sont, par la façon dont les gens évitent les Paladins, que peu de gens vont offrir beaucoup d'information - bien que vous pourriez toujours soudoyer quelqu'un. Il est prudent de dire que certaines réponses peuvent être dans le temple cependant! Apparemment, le pauvre Joslyn est assis dans le temple en train de prier pour son propre sauveur. Qu'allez-vous faire? Encore une fois, n'hésitez pas à contrôler les citadins, les marchands ou les gardes.	Alias: Purifier Age: 25 Occupation: Scholar Location: The small kingdom Hebetude; a secluded castle and couple villages buried into the eastern forests. While the dead took their time weaving through the trees, it also makes it naturally difficult to dispatch Paladins to the location as well. Personality: Joslyn is a unique sort, one you might wave off as not confident, meek, and shy. Though she is more passive in her personality when it comes to strangers and her introverted nature makes her less out going as others, she is surprisingly confident in herself and straight to the point. Believing in honesty and love, Joslyn has a kind aura to her that sometimes makes others want to take advantage of that, but often find themselves at odds when she stands up for herself. She enjoys making others smile and most of all, is a romantic at heart - though this side of her has been embittered by rejections from all manner of people; family, friends, and lovers. Likes: Reading, watching waterfalls, helping others, flirting, deep discussions Dislikes: Immoral behavior, hot weather, insects (especially spiders), being alone Deity: Arete, Goddess of Virtue Abilities: Joslyn was given spell-like abilities of purification, able to return the dead to rest, demons to their planes of existence, and harm those of evil hearts. Skills: Joslyn is mostly skilled in lore as one of the more learned scholars. Beyond this though, she only has basic survival and stealth skills. Background Joslyn grew up in one of the farm houses outside Hebetude's castle walls. Her life started in a downward spiral since childhood, having an non-attentive mother and a busy father, which made her more shy than she had been naturally. By the time she opened up to other children, they saw her as a weak target and she easily became the blunt of their teasing and when not being teased, they simply chose to ignore her presence at all. She learned quickly that being around most children was a bad idea and instead kept to herself at the farm stead. When she wasn't helping mother cook or do housework, she sought out the books lined in the study and buried herself within the written words. Her coming of age brought many things to her life. At the age of twelve, she was given the opportunity to stay with her family or find apprenticeship elsewhere in the castle grounds and given her poor relations with her parents and no friends, she chose to apprentice under the local scholar of the kingdom. Joslyn had figured she might as well do something she enjoyed in reading and researching than spend days at a farm with people that mostly ignored her. In truth, Scholar James was her first true friend and mentor, being some decades older than she was. Still she enjoyed her time under his study, learning of myths, legends, histories, prophecies, and anything one might want research - it was the scholar's duty to provide advice on learned subjects. However this time in her life had been mildly confusing as well as young men began to flirt with her (though to be honest, they were few), because she did not find interest in any of them, but instead seemed to pay far more attention to the other young women. Eventually, she even found a friend and potential lover in one of them, until the girl's parents learned of what she was doing with Joslyn. They had forced her away from the young scholar, leaving Joslyn quite alone once more. It didn't help Joslyn's mood that this happened a few more times, finding companionship in other women only for it to be torn away from her. When rumors of the living dead came rushing to Hebetude, the small kingdom chose to hole themselves inside the forest, posting more guards and making it generally more difficult for trade caravans to come through. They increased some of their production to make up for the loss, but the people were all too happy to obey if it meant not facing moving skeletons. The kingdom lived in a half-dazed fear for five full years until finally the undead broke through the forest and started to spill into the small kingdom. Until recently, they had only been few and far between, giving the small group of knights a fair chance at defending themselves. However in the recent months, it seems the waves of walking dead have increased to a gross amount, making it extremely hard for the knights to even protect the borders - in which Joslyn finally started to show signs of something amiss. Everyone heard rumors of the Paladins and their gifts, but never once heard of the same burst of light that Joslyn had produced one fateful day. If it hadn't been for her ability to wipe out a small battlion, she would surely be dead - but now the king has ordered her to be held up in the temple of Arete, afraid to lose his one advantage against the hordes.
23,842	686	4	126	59	Reina Lockwood C'était troublantment facile de passer devant leurs gardes – s'ils avaient été pilleurs, leur petite ville aurait été incendiée en un rien de temps. Pourtant, Reina était heureuse que leur ruse ait fonctionné sans accrochage. Tobi ne serait probablement pas trop heureuse si elle avait commencé des combats inutiles, et en choisir un avec des gens qui avaient peur de leur esprit n'aurait pas été amusant de toute façon. Alors, au lieu de cela, elle a remercié le chevalier alors qu'il les inaugurait à travers les portes, un triste petit sourire sur son visage pour conduire leur stratagème à la maison, et a suivi Lyra. Ils ont continué avec la façade jusqu'à ce qu'ils soient bien au-delà des portes, mais même lorsqu'ils viraient loin de la vue des gardes, elle ne pouvait pas s'empêcher de sentir qu'elle était sous surveillance. Reina se penchait plus près de Lyra, sur le point de se demander si elle ressentait la même chose, quand l'estomac de Lyra grondait fort, l'envoyant dans une courte crise de rires. Son rire s'est emparé et s'est coupé dans l'air tendu, attirant l'attention méfiante des gens à proximité. D'après les regards suspects qu'ils ont jetés sur son chemin et les murmures houssées qui accompagnaient alors, c'était presque comme s'ils n'avaient jamais entendu rire avant. Était-ce là la crainte profonde qui avait pris racine dans la ville et ses habitants? Une fronce à ses lèvres; elle ne pouvait pas imaginer vivre dans la peur constante. Ça doit être fatigant! Et déprimant. "Ça ressemble à une taverne là-bas, oui?" Elle a souligné, sentant sa propre faim commence à faire surface. "On peut manger et s'y amuser!" Reina a accroché son bras autour de la brune et l'a conduite vers le nord-est, vers l'établissement avec des murs de pierre épais et un panneau pendaison étoilé qui n'était plus lisible. Les yeux toujours vigilants des habitants de Hebetude ne s'éloignaient jamais des deux étrangers. Alors qu'ils traversaient une partie particulièrement occupée de la ville, le bourdonnement de bavardages brouillait et les foules se séparaient comme s'il s'agissait d'une créature en proie à la peste avec laquelle ils ne voulaient pas entrer en contact. "Jeez. De la façon dont ils nous traitent, vous pensiez que nous étions les morts qui marchaient », chuchotait-elle à Lyra, faisant des visages sur les gens qui les regardaient encore. Mais aussi ennuyeux qu'il devait être traité comme un paria, Reina a pu recueillir quelques informations pertinentes du traitement froid de la ville. Il semblait qu'il n'y avait que deux choses qui éloignaient les pauvres habitants des villes, et seulement deux choses qu'ils ne s'approcheraient pas : le couple de femmes extérieures qui se promenaient librement dans leur ville, et le temple curieusement surveillé à l'extrémité est de la ville. C'était peut-être une coïncidence, mais son instinct lui a dit le contraire. Au moment où ils arrivèrent à la taverne, qui se révéla aussi être une auberge, le soleil s'accrocha sur les murs, jetant une lueur légèrement dorée sur la petite ville. La taverne n'abritait qu'une poignée de mécènes, un groupe de cinq ivrognes qui faisaient incohérence rage sur l'état de leur ville, trois femmes qui les regardaient avec appréhension, et un homme blindé qui bavardait avec l'une des barmaids. Reina a pris bonne note de lui. "Alors qu'est-ce qu'on fait? On dirait que personne ne va nous parler." Reina a demandé après qu'ils se soient installés sur une table de rickety à l'extrémité de la taverne. D'où ils étaient assis, ils pouvaient voir la structure sainte par la fenêtre latticée. Les figures lointaines des gardes qui l'entouraient rendirent Reina agitée, et encore ses mains serrées. "Il semble que quelque chose se soit passé avec le temple, cependant," s'est penchée, chuchotant à Lyra conspiratoirement quand le gardien de taverne leur a remis leurs repas. Reina n'a regardé que trop avide de la perspective d'une action, signature sourire révélateur sur ses lèvres et les yeux resplendissant malicieusement. "Vous voulez aller voir?"	Reina Lockwood Age: 20 Occupation: Ex-Pirate and brawler Enclave location: Therra Enclave Personality: Reina is like a thunderstorm: unpredictable, wild, and dynamic. More than anything, it is her whims that drive her and passion that fuels her. She tends to get swept up in the moment and acts before thinking things through, a fatal flaw that is only exacerbated by her devil-may-care attitude. Reckless and heedless of consequences, she is flippant in the face of danger—it's the way of the (ex) pirate!—and trusts completely in her abilities to escape any predicaments she might get herself into. Suffice it to say, Reina is the type to live for the moment. She struts about like she has nary a care in the undead-ridden world, with a challenging grin on her lips and a spark of mischief ever-present in her eyes. She's charming when she wants to be, cunning when she has to be, and playful at all times. But sometimes, there are cracks visible in her buoyant façade. A hint of loneliness and sadness that could have only come from heartbreak. It clouds her smile for a brief moment, then she's back to cracking jokes and spouting nonsense. Likes: Listening to stories Teasing Sweets The ocean Watching the stars Dislikes: The cold Having nothing to do Being alone Deity: Vihm, the weather goddess, better known by the merchant navy and the pirates as the Sea Witch. She is said to be as mercurial as the tides, vengeful and fearsome one moment, magnanimous and indulging the next. Incurring her wrath means certain doom and a grave beneath the waves, while receiving her favor assures safe passage across the rough seas, Abilities: The weather goddess has bestowed upon Reina the wind at her feet and lightning in her hands. With superhuman agility and lightning coursing through her veins, Reina becomes an unparalleled fighter able to run circles around the undead and knock them flat with her fists. Skills: Spatial and visual acuity, or in layman's terms, the ability to never get lost. Life at sea has honed Reina's navigational skills and she has become adept at gleaning pertinent information by surveying her surroundings. She can scale walls or trees or anything high with relative ease She's also pretty good at winning people over (and just as good at making enemies, it seems) Background: A street urchin, a thief, a pirate, and now a paladin. Reina never would have expected to live so many different lives. Abandoned at an early age by desperate parents already struggling to survive, Reina grew up calling the streets of the port town Azmarin her home. It was there that she learned the value of a charming smile and quick fingers; no one ever accused the happy, little beggar girl of pilfering. For someone who grew up without four walls and a roof, Reina could say she lived rather comfortably. She had never wanted for anything; her meals were supplied by the generous townspeople (sometimes intentionally, as they invite her in their homes for supper, and sometimes not, as she uses their coin to purchase fresh food from the market) and she spent most of her time meandering about town in search of targets, or playing at the shores of the Blessed Sea. Reina was eleven when the self-proclaimed pirate king took notice of her talents. She had bitten off more than she could chew when she tried stealing from one of the crates being loaded onto his infamous vessel, The Llyr-vihm, but the challenge had been too great to neglect. The pirate king Auran caught her just as she was about to slip away with a bagful of his trinkets. He only smiled as he grabbed her by the collar and dragged her back to the deck, cutting a menacing but somehow awe-inspiring figure as he brandished his falchion and pointed it at her. She was given two options: pledge fealty to the pirate king or meet with the Sea Witch beneath the waves. Piracy came surprisingly easy to her. The skills she obtained in the narrow streets of Azmarin turned out to be translatable. Charm, a quick tongue, and even quicker fingers made her an indispensable asset. She would be the bait, the one they sent out to lower guards, or the one they carried aboard other ships to ransack every tiny nook and cranny. Reina had unexpectedly found a family in the Llyr-vihm's fearsome crew. It became apparent to her early on that they were not the vicious, cutthroats they were painted as, at least not entirely. Necessity had forced this hand on them—an ailing wife that needs medicine, two newborns that need financial support—and who was she to judge their means of survival? She had been doing the same thing. Besides, it was difficult not to get attached to the motley crew with their colorful personalities, and even harder not to admire their stalwart captain. In return, Auran had grown especially fond of her, as well. For the girl who reminded him of the daughter he lost at sea, he begged the Sea Witch for a blessing. He sacrificed relics to earn this favor and the Sea Witch, feeling magnanimous that day, obliged, but under one condition. The blessing will only take effect after the pirate king makes good on his final promise. Word of the undead rising came months late in the sea, and the crew erupted in panic and fear once they knew. After they disembarked at a nearby port town, many rushed to visit their families and loved ones, but it was too late. The walking dead had done away with the smaller towns, sparing no one in their rampage. Within a short year in the accursed land, the crew's number had dwindled to a handful. Auran thought it best to return to Llyr-vihm and escape to the waters, where the undead could not reach them, but before they could reach the vessel, hordes of the walking dead had surrounded them. Five became four, four became three, until finally, there was only Reina and Auran. Reina was certain it was the end. She thanked the Sea Witch for her wonderful life and her wonderful captain and prepared herself for the worst. But it never came, at least not for her. Auran had protected her until the end, shielding her with his body, and this final sacrificial act had awakened the dormant blessing of the goddess Vihm. As Auran fell, Reina felt a surge of power within her, taking over her body. She doesn't remember what happened next, but word has it that she had gone straight through the horde, defeating those that stood in her way. When she came to, she found herself at an Enclave, days later, with Auran and the rest of the crew all gone. With nowhere else to go, Reina remained at the Enclave, learning the ways of the paladin. She heard from one of the paladins that those who have sinned were cursed with eternal punishment, and so Reina began focusing her efforts on making reparations for the whole crew. Surely, if she helps rid the world of the undead, the gods could grant her that favor?
23,843	686	5	2,604	226	Lyra s'est assise en face de Reina. La vieille chaise en bois grincant légèrement sous son petit poids; pour une seconde lui faisant reconsidérer si son gros cul a réellement besoin de nourriture. Même si son estomac grondait une fois de plus et qu'un appétit fougueux se lava sur elle une fois de plus. Faire sa façon de faire les options de se sentir gros et grossier ou responsable et ne manger que la quantité dont elle avait besoin pour survivre. Malheureusement, dans son esprit, elle connaissait la réponse, mais elle ne pouvait pas encore l'accepter. À la mention du temple, elle regarda par la fenêtre sale, prenant note de tous les gardes qui s'y tenaient nerveusement. Il semblait être le seul bâtiment avec n'importe quel type de sécurité. "Oui... C'est étrangement surveillé pour un temple. " Elle murmura en retour. Regardant loin de la fenêtre pour remarquer que Reina s'était penchée assez près, un blush sournois croisant ses joues pâles. Bien qu'elle l'ait ébranlé, ce n'était pas le moment pour de tels fous! C'était l'heure de manger! Et le temps de la nourriture devrait être son seul objectif. Comme la manne du ciel, leur nourriture est arrivée et son cœur est entré dans un battement. Comme si une amante perdue était revenue dans sa gauche. Elle inhala le parfum délicieux du repas rustique et sentit sa bouche s'arroser. Aujourd'hui s'était instantanément transformé en un grand jour. Elle a rapidement saisi ses ustensiles et a dit une prière rapide avant de travailler sur sa nourriture. - Un peu plus tard... Lyra est venue se faufiler lentement hors de la taverne, la main reposant doucement sur son bébé à manger. "Yum yum yum! C'était délicieux!" Elle a failli chanter alors qu'elle gardait un doux sourire euphorique sur ses lèvres. Puis elle s'est souvenue que Reina était là tout le temps. Elle l'avait regardée manger. Lyra était sûre que Reina pensait qu'elle était dégoûtante maintenant. Ses épaules s'assombrissaient dans la défaite, son sourire dégénérant en poupe. "Je suis si dégueulasse..." Elle pleurait tranquillement à elle-même. Elle s'est laissée faire sa fête de pitié quelques instants seulement avant de reprendre la piste. "D'accord, je vais commencer à me faufiler sur le côté de l'immeuble. Vous distraitz le garde qu'ils ont laissé seul là-bas." Elle a répété le plan tranquillement, seulement assez fort pour que Reina entende avant de partir dans la rue légèrement bondée. Lyra s'est rapidement balayée et a plané discrètement à travers la foule et s'est évanouie de la vue. Ce n'était pas longtemps après que Lyra ait trouvé une tache sombre pour se cacher dans l'attente avant que Reina soit arrivée sur la cible. Ce n'était pas longtemps avant que le garde ne soit facilement distrait. La petite fille cachée dans l'ombre s'enfuyait rapidement et tranquillement hors de l'ombre. Combler l'écart entre elle-même et le dos de la garde un grand morceau de bois silhouette haute dans l'air. Soudain WAP! La silhouette s'est écrasée à l'arrière de la tête des gardes, le frappant instantanément.	Name / Alias: Lyra Andulin. Age: 20. Occupation: Weapons Master. Enclave location: Therra Enclave. Personality: Lyra is a rather relaxed and spiritualistic person. In any time of high stress she always seems so relaxed, holding firm to her composure. Lyra is usually the first one to put herself in the line of danger to keep those around her safe. She was always considered a motherly, caring figure for those around her. Putting the needs of others always before her own, and always having a smile during it no matter the sacrifice to herself. She is a kind girl, often trying to make jokes in an attempt to keep the morale up within her group. Likes: -She is embarrassingly infatuated with anything that could be considered cute or adorable. -She loves sweets/candies. Anything with the first ingredient being sugar. -Napping is one of her favorite pass times. -When she can't nap she likes to exercise or train her weapons skills. Dislikes: -Super spicy food. -Not being able to nap OR exercise. -Being cold. -Bats. They terrify her. Deity: Khiriis - The God of war and protection. Khiriis is said to be a great warrior wielding a shield and double sided axe. In his lore he was said to have defeated legions of warriors in a single night keeping his kingdom and his people safe. Given his prowess in battle upon his death he was granted Godly status and immortal life within the universe. Abilities: Lyra has attained two magical relics that when swept across the air they leave mystical runes in its path. From the runes left behind Lyra can produce various weapons as if from another dimension. Skills: -Lyra is well skilled in nearly all melee based weapons. -She has basic training with ranged weapons such as throwing knifes and bows. -Survival training is an important discipline within the Therra Enclave. -She is pretty descent at cooking. Background: Given Lyra's current personality no one would really guess she had a rather dark childhood. Given most of her life has lived with the undead she constantly lived on the run with her father. Try all her father might he could never attain the blessings of a Deity. For whatever reason they never gave him the blessings to fight back against the scourge of undead. So in his rage and desire to have some degree of protection against the undead he forced his young daughter, Lyra, to try and find favor from the Gods. At first Lyra was hesitant but her father quickly beat out that hesitation. You would think when she was finally blessed with the Light of Khiriis her father would be happy. But it only fueled his rage that he wasn't accepted and she was. Lyra not knowing how to control her new found power accidentally fought back. From thin air multiple blades emerged and pierced through his chest. Lyra never knew what happened. It all happened in a blur. But they were alone and no one saw what happened or even knew who the two of them were. From then on Lyra survived on her own against the undead. She learned how to fight on her own. It was a painful process but she survived. When she was 18 she was taken into the Therra Enclave as another paladin happened upon a hurt Lyra out in the wilds. From their her skills were refined and she became a true paladin.
23,844	686	6	1,465	1,197	Aucun des autres gardiens n'a remarqué, donnant aux deux femmes la chance parfaite d'essayer de glisser dans la porte arrière, bien qu'elles pourraient devoir être créatives car il avait été verrouillé de l'extérieur avec une clé - bien sûr si on pouvait le choisir, ils pourraient regarder à l'intérieur sans beaucoup de difficultés. Pendant ce temps à l'intérieur, Joslyn a percé les sons à l'extérieur, bien que son regard soit rapidement allé vers les deux gardes et elle a décidé qu'il valait mieux s'installer le plus tôt possible pour qu'elle ne les avertisse pas d'événements étranges. Quoi qu'il en soit, elle était curieuse de savoir ce qui se passait dehors et ne pouvait que penser que quelqu'un avait enlevé le garde - le coup fort ne pouvait pas être grand-chose d'autre, n'est-ce pas? Mais était-ce des sauveurs de l'autre côté ou étaient-ils ici pour la prendre à leurs propres fins? La femme ordinaire s'est déplacée dans les marches du temple, fêlant avec ses mains et mordant ses lèvres nerveusement - les deux habitudes qu'elle avait ramassées il y a longtemps. Toute cette situation était un désastre et au début, elle pensait que ses connaissances savantes pouvaient voir sa sortie de cette semi-emprisonnement, mais évidemment les gens de la ville et le roi avaient des idées complètement différentes. Elle n'aimait pas les morts-vivants plus que quiconque, mais ce n'était pas juste de tenir quelqu'un contre leur volonté juste parce qu'ils n'étaient pas sûrs qu'ils voulaient risquer des membres et de la vie contre des hordes de créatures déjà mortes. Parfois, elle détestait les gens et parfois, surtout les hommes.	Alias: Purifier Age: 25 Occupation: Scholar Location: The small kingdom Hebetude; a secluded castle and couple villages buried into the eastern forests. While the dead took their time weaving through the trees, it also makes it naturally difficult to dispatch Paladins to the location as well. Personality: Joslyn is a unique sort, one you might wave off as not confident, meek, and shy. Though she is more passive in her personality when it comes to strangers and her introverted nature makes her less out going as others, she is surprisingly confident in herself and straight to the point. Believing in honesty and love, Joslyn has a kind aura to her that sometimes makes others want to take advantage of that, but often find themselves at odds when she stands up for herself. She enjoys making others smile and most of all, is a romantic at heart - though this side of her has been embittered by rejections from all manner of people; family, friends, and lovers. Likes: Reading, watching waterfalls, helping others, flirting, deep discussions Dislikes: Immoral behavior, hot weather, insects (especially spiders), being alone Deity: Arete, Goddess of Virtue Abilities: Joslyn was given spell-like abilities of purification, able to return the dead to rest, demons to their planes of existence, and harm those of evil hearts. Skills: Joslyn is mostly skilled in lore as one of the more learned scholars. Beyond this though, she only has basic survival and stealth skills. Background Joslyn grew up in one of the farm houses outside Hebetude's castle walls. Her life started in a downward spiral since childhood, having an non-attentive mother and a busy father, which made her more shy than she had been naturally. By the time she opened up to other children, they saw her as a weak target and she easily became the blunt of their teasing and when not being teased, they simply chose to ignore her presence at all. She learned quickly that being around most children was a bad idea and instead kept to herself at the farm stead. When she wasn't helping mother cook or do housework, she sought out the books lined in the study and buried herself within the written words. Her coming of age brought many things to her life. At the age of twelve, she was given the opportunity to stay with her family or find apprenticeship elsewhere in the castle grounds and given her poor relations with her parents and no friends, she chose to apprentice under the local scholar of the kingdom. Joslyn had figured she might as well do something she enjoyed in reading and researching than spend days at a farm with people that mostly ignored her. In truth, Scholar James was her first true friend and mentor, being some decades older than she was. Still she enjoyed her time under his study, learning of myths, legends, histories, prophecies, and anything one might want research - it was the scholar's duty to provide advice on learned subjects. However this time in her life had been mildly confusing as well as young men began to flirt with her (though to be honest, they were few), because she did not find interest in any of them, but instead seemed to pay far more attention to the other young women. Eventually, she even found a friend and potential lover in one of them, until the girl's parents learned of what she was doing with Joslyn. They had forced her away from the young scholar, leaving Joslyn quite alone once more. It didn't help Joslyn's mood that this happened a few more times, finding companionship in other women only for it to be torn away from her. When rumors of the living dead came rushing to Hebetude, the small kingdom chose to hole themselves inside the forest, posting more guards and making it generally more difficult for trade caravans to come through. They increased some of their production to make up for the loss, but the people were all too happy to obey if it meant not facing moving skeletons. The kingdom lived in a half-dazed fear for five full years until finally the undead broke through the forest and started to spill into the small kingdom. Until recently, they had only been few and far between, giving the small group of knights a fair chance at defending themselves. However in the recent months, it seems the waves of walking dead have increased to a gross amount, making it extremely hard for the knights to even protect the borders - in which Joslyn finally started to show signs of something amiss. Everyone heard rumors of the Paladins and their gifts, but never once heard of the same burst of light that Joslyn had produced one fateful day. If it hadn't been for her ability to wipe out a small battlion, she would surely be dead - but now the king has ordered her to be held up in the temple of Arete, afraid to lose his one advantage against the hordes.
23,845	686	7	126	59	Reina Lockwood Le garde qu'ils avaient repéré avait baissé le sien, bien, garde après un seul coup, et Reina s'est presque sentie triste pour lui. Un mauvais coup sur la tête plus tard et il a été étendu au sol, les yeux roulant à l'arrière de sa tête comme il a été rendu inconscient. Le plan était d'être tout à propos de discrétion. Trouver le point faible dans la sentinelle, prendre soin de l'obstacle, se faufiler tranquillement. Ils avaient réussi à faire deux sur trois, et il semblerait que ce soit en douceur à partir de là. La plupart des gardes avaient été placés à l'avant et sur le côté du temple, et alors que Reina (un peu, et elle n'avait jamais dit cela à Lyra) espérait que certains d'entre eux seraient alertés par leur intrusion, aucun ne l'a fait. Elle soupçonnait qu'ils étaient beaucoup trop tendus – leur peur a réduit leur concentration et a obscurci leur jugement. "Oh, attendez! Avant d'entrer, Reina s'accroupit par la garde en bas, ressemblant beaucoup à un enfant au milieu d'une blague pratique avec le sourire ludique sur son visage. Elle a dépouillé le garde de son armure, décrochant rapidement les serrures et la ceinture et les réinitialisant autour d'elle. L'armure était trop grande sur son petit cadre et le métal claqué avec elle chaque mouvement, mais Reina semblait tout de même ravie. Elle a fait un clin d'œil à Lyra. "Voilà. N'ai-je pas fait un chevalier en armure brillante?" Maintenant que son désir de folie avait été quelque peu satisfait, Reina est retournée aux affaires. Seule une porte verrouillée restait sur leur chemin, et comme on devrait le savoir, l'ouverture des choses était quelque chose d'une spécialité ex-pirate. Reina pouvait choisir l'écluse en quelques secondes, mais c'était une chevalier en armure brillante en ce moment et elle pensait qu'une grande entrée lui convenait mieux. "Prêt, partenaire?" Reina a craqué ses doigts et a inhalé profondément, centrant toute l'énergie dans ses poings. Un éclair bleu pâle s'est effondré entre ses doigts et c'était comme si le tonnerre roulait à travers le ciel quand elle a frappé la porte ouverte. Les gardes qui flanquaient le périmètre du temple secouèrent l'alarme, mais ne regardèrent que vers le ciel, anticipant la pluie qui devait suivre les cris du ciel. Avant que la porte ne puisse s'écraser et causer plus d'un ruckus, Reina a zippé vers l'avant, interceptant la lourde porte en chêne qu'elle venait de tirer de ses charnières pour la poser doucement. Ils ont peut-être échappé à l'avis des gardes extérieurs, mais la clameur qu'elle a causée aurait alerté n'importe qui à l'intérieur. Reina a demandé à Lyra d'entrer en formation. Elle ne savait pas combien de gardes étaient à l'intérieur, et une partie d'elle se demandait si c'était la crème de la récolte – parce que sauver le meilleur pour la dernière fois, n'est-ce pas? – mais elle n'était pas trop inquiète de toute façon. Avec Lyra et son côté à côté, rien n'était impossible. Les marches scintillaient de plus en plus profondément dans le temple, le son du métal sur le métal échoant des murs. Elle se tourna vers Lyra et sourit : "Les voilà."	Reina Lockwood Age: 20 Occupation: Ex-Pirate and brawler Enclave location: Therra Enclave Personality: Reina is like a thunderstorm: unpredictable, wild, and dynamic. More than anything, it is her whims that drive her and passion that fuels her. She tends to get swept up in the moment and acts before thinking things through, a fatal flaw that is only exacerbated by her devil-may-care attitude. Reckless and heedless of consequences, she is flippant in the face of danger—it's the way of the (ex) pirate!—and trusts completely in her abilities to escape any predicaments she might get herself into. Suffice it to say, Reina is the type to live for the moment. She struts about like she has nary a care in the undead-ridden world, with a challenging grin on her lips and a spark of mischief ever-present in her eyes. She's charming when she wants to be, cunning when she has to be, and playful at all times. But sometimes, there are cracks visible in her buoyant façade. A hint of loneliness and sadness that could have only come from heartbreak. It clouds her smile for a brief moment, then she's back to cracking jokes and spouting nonsense. Likes: Listening to stories Teasing Sweets The ocean Watching the stars Dislikes: The cold Having nothing to do Being alone Deity: Vihm, the weather goddess, better known by the merchant navy and the pirates as the Sea Witch. She is said to be as mercurial as the tides, vengeful and fearsome one moment, magnanimous and indulging the next. Incurring her wrath means certain doom and a grave beneath the waves, while receiving her favor assures safe passage across the rough seas, Abilities: The weather goddess has bestowed upon Reina the wind at her feet and lightning in her hands. With superhuman agility and lightning coursing through her veins, Reina becomes an unparalleled fighter able to run circles around the undead and knock them flat with her fists. Skills: Spatial and visual acuity, or in layman's terms, the ability to never get lost. Life at sea has honed Reina's navigational skills and she has become adept at gleaning pertinent information by surveying her surroundings. She can scale walls or trees or anything high with relative ease She's also pretty good at winning people over (and just as good at making enemies, it seems) Background: A street urchin, a thief, a pirate, and now a paladin. Reina never would have expected to live so many different lives. Abandoned at an early age by desperate parents already struggling to survive, Reina grew up calling the streets of the port town Azmarin her home. It was there that she learned the value of a charming smile and quick fingers; no one ever accused the happy, little beggar girl of pilfering. For someone who grew up without four walls and a roof, Reina could say she lived rather comfortably. She had never wanted for anything; her meals were supplied by the generous townspeople (sometimes intentionally, as they invite her in their homes for supper, and sometimes not, as she uses their coin to purchase fresh food from the market) and she spent most of her time meandering about town in search of targets, or playing at the shores of the Blessed Sea. Reina was eleven when the self-proclaimed pirate king took notice of her talents. She had bitten off more than she could chew when she tried stealing from one of the crates being loaded onto his infamous vessel, The Llyr-vihm, but the challenge had been too great to neglect. The pirate king Auran caught her just as she was about to slip away with a bagful of his trinkets. He only smiled as he grabbed her by the collar and dragged her back to the deck, cutting a menacing but somehow awe-inspiring figure as he brandished his falchion and pointed it at her. She was given two options: pledge fealty to the pirate king or meet with the Sea Witch beneath the waves. Piracy came surprisingly easy to her. The skills she obtained in the narrow streets of Azmarin turned out to be translatable. Charm, a quick tongue, and even quicker fingers made her an indispensable asset. She would be the bait, the one they sent out to lower guards, or the one they carried aboard other ships to ransack every tiny nook and cranny. Reina had unexpectedly found a family in the Llyr-vihm's fearsome crew. It became apparent to her early on that they were not the vicious, cutthroats they were painted as, at least not entirely. Necessity had forced this hand on them—an ailing wife that needs medicine, two newborns that need financial support—and who was she to judge their means of survival? She had been doing the same thing. Besides, it was difficult not to get attached to the motley crew with their colorful personalities, and even harder not to admire their stalwart captain. In return, Auran had grown especially fond of her, as well. For the girl who reminded him of the daughter he lost at sea, he begged the Sea Witch for a blessing. He sacrificed relics to earn this favor and the Sea Witch, feeling magnanimous that day, obliged, but under one condition. The blessing will only take effect after the pirate king makes good on his final promise. Word of the undead rising came months late in the sea, and the crew erupted in panic and fear once they knew. After they disembarked at a nearby port town, many rushed to visit their families and loved ones, but it was too late. The walking dead had done away with the smaller towns, sparing no one in their rampage. Within a short year in the accursed land, the crew's number had dwindled to a handful. Auran thought it best to return to Llyr-vihm and escape to the waters, where the undead could not reach them, but before they could reach the vessel, hordes of the walking dead had surrounded them. Five became four, four became three, until finally, there was only Reina and Auran. Reina was certain it was the end. She thanked the Sea Witch for her wonderful life and her wonderful captain and prepared herself for the worst. But it never came, at least not for her. Auran had protected her until the end, shielding her with his body, and this final sacrificial act had awakened the dormant blessing of the goddess Vihm. As Auran fell, Reina felt a surge of power within her, taking over her body. She doesn't remember what happened next, but word has it that she had gone straight through the horde, defeating those that stood in her way. When she came to, she found herself at an Enclave, days later, with Auran and the rest of the crew all gone. With nowhere else to go, Reina remained at the Enclave, learning the ways of the paladin. She heard from one of the paladins that those who have sinned were cursed with eternal punishment, and so Reina began focusing her efforts on making reparations for the whole crew. Surely, if she helps rid the world of the undead, the gods could grant her that favor?
23,846	687	0	1,011	1,386	Il y a plusieurs années Quartier général du Commandement des opérations spéciales Terre La grande limousine noire a roulé dans la rue et garé sur le côté de la route. Il y avait le sifflement d'un joint pneumatique qui se perdait alors qu'une porte s'ouvrait et qu'une rampe se jetait de l'intérieur. De l'intérieur sombre est venu un homme plus âgé dans un fauteuil roulant et après près de son accompagnateur un homme énorme de sept pieds de haut et fait de muscle solide. Ils étaient vêtus de vêtements aussi pointus, de costumes noirs sur mesure et ils semblaient être l'épitome du professionnalisme. Le monde semblait s'arrêter à la pointe et au commandement de l'homme en fauteuil roulant, peu importe sa petite taille apparemment fragile; les piétons de la rue se déplaçaient autour d'eux comme une grande force les repoussait. L'homme sur la chaise chuchotait quelque chose à son accompagnateur qui les hurlait et les déplaçait de l'autre côté de la rue vide jusqu'au bâtiment SOC. De l'extérieur quelque chose semblerait décidément hors sur le campus SOC. Dès le début, il ne regardait pas trop en dehors des normes gouvernementales, il s'agissait d'un bâtiment rectangulaire en pierre noire profonde avec une seule longue passerelle menant à la porte d'entrée. Et pourtant, les choses étaient encore étranges. Le bâtiment pour l'un n'avait rien que vous attendiez en termes de sécurité pas de postes de garde, pas de hautes clôtures ou caméras de sécurité et pourtant rien n'a passé la frontière invisible qui se trouvait entre le trottoir et l'herbe fine coupée chaque lance en hauteur parfaite sera tous les autres. Les gens qui passaient coincés aussi près qu'ils pouvaient jusqu'au trottoir marchaient presque dans la rue. C'était comme si le campus de la SOC n'était même pas là une énigme qui a disparu à l'intérieur et hors de vue au point qu'aucun oiseau ne se reposait même dans les arbres parsemant la pelouse et aucun petit animal n'a dansé à travers l'herbe du point A au point B. Aucune vie n'osait se déplacer sur le campus, aucune vie n'osait briser la santicité rituelle. L'homme dans la chaise a traversé la passerelle comme s'il possédait l'endroit, apparemment sans phase par l'oppression contre nature de la région. Lui et son accompagnateur sont entrés dans le bâtiment dans une grande zone d'attente remplie de sièges et de bancs qui ne semblaient jamais s'asseoir. A l'extrémité était un bureau avec une âme seule derrière elle mais à côté qu'il n'y avait rien d'autre dans toute la région. La paire s'est approchée des femmes au bureau à l'extrémité. Leur dire leur nom et le rendez-vous qu'elle a hurlé et a parlé dans les dispositifs de communication attachés à son oreille. Elle semblait assez normale peau pâle et cheveux noirs ramenés dans une queue de cheval, mais plus on regardait de plus près on pouvait remarquer la lueur de la machine se déplaçant derrière ses yeux, elle n'était même pas juste humaine un robot convaincant qui pourrait probablement tuer n'importe quel visiteur indésirable plus rapidement qu'ils ne pouvaient cligner des yeux. Ils attendaient longtemps, même si l'endroit semblait être une ville fantôme, personne à l'heure où ils s'asseyaient n'avait l'air d'entrer ou de sortir. Enfin, une porte s'ouvrit et sortit une femme vêtue d'un uniforme noir et croustillant, aux longs cheveux roux. Elle a marché avec un but le son de ses pas en écho à travers le vide. Elle s'est présentée à la paire en tant qu'une Kelly O=Connell et a demandé qu'ils la suivent. Ils marchaient et parlaient de choses polies comme la météo, tandis que l'homme dans la chaise regardait en avant et Kelly regardait son datapad balayer l'information au fur et à mesure. Derrière la porte, les choses semblaient être plus vivantes alors que plus d'âmes vêtues d'uniformes similaires marchaient tout autour sur leurs datapads et pourtant aucune ne se parlait les unes aux autres, se déplaçant dans le silence statuesque. Les couloirs eux-mêmes étaient clairsemés et constitués de toutes les lignes fortes avec la porte occasionnelle avec un nom et un département sur elle. Finalement, ils ont été conduits à une porte sous le complexe dans la zone du sous-sol la porte était simple et a été étiqueté Directeur Crane. Kelly a frappé à la porte et une voix masculine de l'autre côté les a incités à tout. À l'intérieur de la pièce assis un homme à un bureau simple le mur derrière rempli d'horloges analogiques antiques un achat coûteux ces jours-ci tous avec des noms différents de pays et des temps ticking loin tranquille derrière lui. À son bureau était assis un petit bol de poisson avec quelques poissons tropicaux nageant à ce sujet et derrière qu'une tasse de café dans ses mains était assis Admiral Jonathan Hector Crane le directeur du Commandement des opérations spéciales et donc l'un des hommes les plus puissants de toute la galaxie. Il était plus jeune que la plupart ne l'imaginaient à peine plus de trente ans et pourtant ses yeux racontaient une histoire de grande intelligence et d'instinct presque prédateur. Le jaune était un implant évident que la robotique derrière elle se déplace constamment et le balayage et il ne faisait aucun signe de le cacher bien que le bleu que l'homme a fait juste l'apparence et il a presque senti que le bleu pouvait percevoir encore plus profond que le jaune. Il a ouvert l'homme dans la chaise en avant l'accueillant dans son domaine, le tigre laissant le chasseur dans sa tanière. Docteur Iqbal! Je suis désolée de t'avoir fait attendre! J'ai été retenu lors d'une réunion avec le Conseil de la Défense. Vous savez comment ces hauts de haut aiment parler. » Il a expliqué poli et propre presque au point qu'il avait l'air falsifié. Oui, bien sûr. Quoi qu'il en soit, je suppose que nous sommes ici pour parler de mon projet.Le médecin a répondu à sa voix calme et recueillie alors qu'il commençait le jeu de l'esparring social avec l'amiral. Après examen il a été conclu que votre test initial sont satisfaisants et nous allons commencer à passer à la prochaine phase de développement. Je suppose que j'aurai la pleine coopération du Commandement des opérations spéciales dans cette prochaine phase?Le médecin a demandé pas encore satisfait. Crane l'a regardé lever un sourcil comme il l'a fait avant qu'il ne se prosterne et continue. Bien sûr docteur. Nous allons vous fournir toutes les ressources dont vous avez besoin pour réussir le projet. Alors que je ne peux pas être là personnellement Mme O'Connell sera mon représentant personnel pour vous assurer que les choses se passent bien et il n'y a pas de retard dans la chaîne de communication. Il regarda et secoua la tête murmurant quelque chose sous son souffle. Il semblerait que j'aie une urgence à m'occuper du docteur Iqbal. J'ai confiance que Mme O'Connell peut gérer le repassage des détails ici.L'amiral a expliqué saisir son datapad et debout, il s'est déplacé vers la porte mais avant de quitter il a regardé en arrière vers le Docteur et il a parlé et pour la première fois il semblait que toute la façade soit partie et le Docteur Iqbal pour un moment a parlé avec le vrai Amiral Crane. Le Doctor Iqbal Special Operations Command met beaucoup d'argent et beaucoup de ressources en bonne foi dans le projet Daedalus. Je suggère que vous ne me déceviez pas Docteur. 3711 A.D. Composé de Daedalus Haoma 4 heures Une alarme aiguë retentit au milieu de la caserne. Les hommes de Castle's sont entrés dans chacune des casernes en criant et en inaugurant les recrues. Pour certains il pourrait sembler étrange presque cruel d'avoir grandi hommes et femmes criant la malédiction sur les enfants, mais les enfants qui ressemblaient à des adolescents pas les dix ans qu'ils étaient en fait étaient habitués à elle. Ils s'étaient habitués à la routine de la vie et à son chaos quotidien normal qui suivit. Les recrues se sont rapidement préparées à l'équipement PT d'une manière rapide avant d'être précipitées dans le rang et le dossier tout en ligne droite et sans beaucoup parler. Ils ont été amenés à l'avant en scission en escadrons alors qu'ils se formaient en lignes devant Castle qui se tenaient à l'oeil vif et brousse queue en attendant tous. Commandement Maître maître maître maître Jerome Castle était un homme plus âgé presque cinquante ans biologiquement ayant passé une quantité impie de temps en cryo pendant le voyage FTL ainsi il y avait et pourtant il pouvait facilement descendre n'importe qui dans le composé sans même clignoter un oeil. Un homme avec tant de médailles de l'ordre le plus élevé que dans son uniforme vestimentaire il brillait comme un sapin de Noël par une nuit d'hiver. Castle lui-même était habillé dans son propre équipement de PT et prêt à aller sur la course matinale qui était devenue coutume pour les membres de la base. 33 kms en moins d'une heure avec soixante kilos de poids sur le dos. Pour certains, ce serait brutal pour les enfants de Daedalus? Aujourd'hui, c'était seulement lundi. Comme ils ont été séparés en escadrons et en équipes et les groupes se sont rangés avec un autre lorsque Castle a commencé la cadence de marche et la discussion a commencé lentement. Les escadrons de la compagnie Alpha à ce point nous sommes assez serré groupe tricoté ayant passé les dix premières années de leur vie vivant à travers l'enfer pour être les meilleurs soldats que l'Union a jamais eus. Quand ils ont fini de se serrer le dos, ils ont commencé à bouger. Un léger jogging au début, il est devenu plus rapide jusqu'à ce qu'il devienne enfin comme course régulière. Alors que Castle hurlait la cadence du devant de la meute, les membres du 1er Escadron étaient près du dos avec dix kilos de plus que tout le monde. Une punition pour avoir échoué au match du drapeau la semaine dernière. Le consensus général était qu'il y avait un niveau grave de mauvaise communication entre l'équipe rouge et bleue qui composait l'Escadron 1 et qui a mené à une démonstration tout à fait horrible avec l'Escadron 20 en mesure de submerger leur position en un temps record inutile de dire que Castle n'a pas été amusé. Ils ont donc été exilés à l'arrière de la ligne pour pouvoir traiter leurs problèmes personnels.Ils ont commencé à parler comme tous les autres qui suivaient. C'était juste un autre jour à Haoma.	Name: (All the children were given normal first and last names to give a sense of normalcy) Call sign: ID TAG: (A Six digit number unique to each and every member of Daedalus) Gender: Psychological Record:(What makes them tick?) The First Ten Years: (The RP starts with the children about at the age of ten when their training really kicks into high gear. So I'm going to need you to tell me about their first ten years of training on Haoma. What classes did they like, what did they excel at, what were they bad at. Anything life altering happen like witnessing a fellow child die or something? You can keep this brief or make it long it is really up to you. I just need to have a good feeling of your characters.) Cybernetic Augmentations: (All of the soldiers are genetically augmented to be better, faster and stronger as Daft Punk might say but some are also cybernetically augmented with robot parts to help in their designated roles Combat Role: (What do they specialize in?) Loadout: (What weapons and equipemnt do they usually carry with them to complete their job. All soldiers are equipped with two smoke and two fragmentation grenades, a combat knife and a medical gel injector.) NPCS One of the head researcher of Military Technologies division and the now current head of the Daedalus Project. A small and thin man eighty years of age, prefers the use of the wheelchair instead of using his cybernetic legs. A fair man to his employees and tries his best to be kind and moderate to the children of the Daedalus project. Never not seen in a form fitting three piece suit. Current head of Special Operations Command and as a result one of the most important people in the entire Union. Doctor Amman's boss and the man who has invested a lot of military resources into getting Daedalus off the ground. SOC military adviser sent by Admiral Crane to follow and observe the growth of his super soldiers to make sure that they reach their standards. Jerome Castle is the man that SOC had entrusted in making sure that their super soldiers got the best damn training this side of the galaxy. A highly decorated veteran if Mr. Castle knows one thing it would be war. Alpha Company To Be Updated
23,847	687	1	215	1,683	Alors, mesdames, j'espère que nous avons tous appris nos leçons de la semaine dernière, n'est-ce pas? Revenons en revue, Sam a crié de l'avant du pack Squad 1. Elle, surtout, avait pris la perte personnellement, étant donné sa nature naturellement ambitieuse. C'était une partie de la raison pour laquelle elle s'est trouvée à l'avant de son équipe - il n'y avait rien que Samantha voulait plus que d'améliorer et être le meilleur qu'elle pouvait, et si cela signifiait mettre le rythme de l'équipe, ainsi soit-il. Cependant, Sam savait que les problèmes de l'équipe étaient beaucoup plus grands que son propre rythme matinal. PT était génial et tout, mais Sam ne pouvait s'empêcher de sentir que sa faiblesse dans les tactiques et les stratégies et sa dureté générale contribuaient à la perte brutale de l'équipe. Encore une fois, elle n'était pas la seule à avoir des problèmes de coopération. Pour Sam, il semblait que l'Escadron 1 était le « bon groupe » - à peu près tous avaient une personnalité assez grave. Rei était de plus en plus mécanique, Francis était obsessionnel-compulsif, et Liu a paniqué si votre respiration même à distance sonnait comme si vous disiez "AGS." Sam savait mieux que d'utiliser ceux-ci comme excuses ou de tenir ces questions contre n'importe qui, mais venez. Elle pourrait nommer quatre autres escouades du haut de sa tête qui avaient la chimie de l'équipe d'une machine bien huilée, indépendamment de leurs défauts personnels. La Squad 1 était comme une gamine de quatre ans attachait deux bâtons en forme de L et l'appelait une arme. Quoi qu'il en soit, Sam a commencé sa session d'examen de Capturer le drapeau : « Tout d'abord! Combien de fois on nous a dit que la communication était essentielle? Je ne suis pas un paragone de coopération, mais les gars. Allez. Si Laura ou Nate ont une idée, on devrait en parler au lieu de s'enfuir et de faire notre propre chose. Ouais, ouais, je sais que je suis coupable aussi, mais nous sommes une équipe pour une raison, n'est-ce pas? "Deuxième! Si je me souviens bien, nous n'avons complètement pas réussi à nous adapter au changement de tactique de la Squad 20. Cette feinte qu'ils ont tirée nous a tous attrapés avec notre pantalon baissé. L'équipe rouge n'avait aucune idée de ce que Blue faisait, et ils nous ont découpés comme un dîner de dinde. Comme on nous l'a dit plusieurs fois, l'adaptabilité sauve des vies. Et d'où je me tiens, ou de courir, on est tous morts. "Et finalement, je vais juste frapper encore une fois cette communication est massive. Si l'un d'entre nous ne sait pas ce que tout le monde fait, alors c'est fini. Sam a pris une demi-heure pour reprendre son souffle, avant de conclure : « Maintenant, je pense que j'ai à peu près couvert tous nos domaines de faiblesses de la semaine dernière. Allez, vous aimez être à l'arrière avec 10 kilos de plus? J'en suis sûr. Nous sommes beaucoup mieux que ça, et nous n'avons certainement pas notre place à l'arrière du peloton après avoir été démolis par une autre équipe. Alors, des questions?" Elle a reluqué un sourire sur ses camarades, ce qu'elle a souvent fait dans une tentative de garder les choses entre tout le monde assez léger.	Name: Alexandre Valke Call sign: Firestorm ID TAG: 211-583 Gender: Male Psychological Record: Alex is... complicated. He is loyal, definitely, but he has an authority complex ingrained in his system, so deep that the officers have given up on him. So long as he follows orders, they suppose. He follows orders well, but won't stop questioning them. Even the most sound orders, he questions. Seriously. He won't ever shut up. However, he finds joy in the simple pleasures in life, such as beautiful sunsets, the sound of gunfire, and watching things go boom, and loves his fellow soldiers dearly. He never really wanted anything more, and is content with the life he has. The First Ten Years: Alex grew up normally, training from birth like the rest of his kin. He formed close bonds with his squad, becoming their brother, if not only in origins, in spirit, too. Most of them, if they got annoyed by him, just accepted him with a wry smile and an exasperated shake of the head. His loyalty to the squad instilled a sense of trust and reliability in his fellows, and while he's a terrible leader, everyone still likes him. However, eight years in, he saw something that changed his life forever. On a routine training run, a fellow soldier, (not from his barrack, but he liked him anyways,) was killed by an order from Jerome. Jerome wasn't necessarily responsible for his death, but ordering the trainee to run from the outer perimeter of the landing pad that they were at, back to formation, for minor insubordination seemed a responsible punishment. No one could've known that a VTOL engine would burn out at the wrong moment, and cause the Tortoise to fall downwards, crashing back down on the pad. The aircraft was fine, needing only a replacement plate for the landing gear's retraction panel. Alexandre's friend, however, was crushed beneath 82,000 pounds of metal, leaving a bloody paste behind on the tarmac. The death was shocking, and disturbed the other trainees, but Alex was the one scarred the most. This left Alexandre with his authority complex, and determination to protect his friends and home. Cybernetic Augmentations: -Alex has a retinal lens implant that covers his left eye that doubles as a motion tracker and optic lens that can zoom up to 45x of normal vision. -He also has a cochlear implant that allows him to pick up on the faintest of sounds, and discern their direction, cause, and tone. Combat Role: Close-Quarters-Combat Specialist and Demolitions Loadout: -2 Smoke Grenades -2 Frag Grenades -Medgel Injector -Combat Knife -MKIII Hermes Power Gloves (Under his armor, allows for more finesse in demolitions situations, and more dexterous hand motion.) -BS-Mk V with modified folding stock. -2 Hawke MK IIIs -10 Military Standard Detonation Packages -5 Fragmentation Mines, Proximity and Trip mines -1 Armored Gauntlet Console Mark Two (AGC-MKII) that allows him accessibility to his explosive devices, able to set them to explode on a timer, by a signal, or on impact, if necessary.
23,848	687	2	1,236	1,764	Rei a grimacé alors qu'elle courait avec le poids lourd attaché à son dos, en s'assurant de suivre le reste. Peine pour avoir perdu un jeu de Capturer le Drapeau. Bien qu'elle comprenne que la compétition permettrait aux candidats de repousser leurs propres limites et de croître en force à un rythme beaucoup plus rapide, n'est-ce pas le poids supplémentaire préjudiciable? Si vous n'autorisez qu'un seul groupe à le porter, alors le reste des groupes ne reçoivent pas autant d'entraînement sévère, et donc de retard. Cependant, contrairement à l'habitude, elle ne faisait pas part de son opinion. La raison de ce fait était qu'à l'avant de leur groupe de course était Sam, qui donnait quelque chose qui ressemblait à un AAR. Tout en pensant à ses propres sujets, elle l'écoutait. Comme d'habitude, elle avait tout à fait raison avec ses mots, comme elle a souligné les problèmes qui s'étaient produits pendant le match. Dans l'esprit de Rei, elle était tout à fait la leader, gardant l'esprit de tout le monde, tout en étant capable de les réprimander. Si seulement elle était plus capable dans le département tactique. Avant de pouvoir ouvrir sa bouche pour lui parler l'esprit, il semblait qu'Alex l'avait battue, faisant entendre des arguments qui contredisaient les paroles de Sam. Bien sûr, ses pensées et son modèle ont dévié comme d'habitude, en quelque chose d'incompréhensible. « L'écoute et la compréhension simultanées de l'apport de chacun ne sont pas un problème. Le problème, c'est que nous n'avons pas l'idée d'exprimer notre point de vue. » Avec un soupir, Rei a jeté un argument connexe dans le mélange, tout à fait d'accord avec le manque de communication. Elle se souvient du jeu de Capturer le drapeau qu'ils ont fait. Tout le monde semblait faire sa propre chose. C'était comme plusieurs tribus qui tremblaient sur la politique, tandis qu'une nation s'enfuyait pour s'emparer de la terre.	Name: Tenrei Yuuyami, Rei for short Call sign: Void ID TAG: 442564 Gender: Female Psychological Record: Rei flips back and forth between two personalities, which is evident right before debriefing. Although one is merely a 'mask', or a facade, it is still difficult to realize this. Her true personality is laid back, relaxed, and whimsical, and almost cat-like. Her actions and her words will be thought up on the spot, with zero filters of any kind, bringing about troubles with her honest thoughts. However, the moment the order to mobilize is called for, Rei's personality flips, becoming apathetic, with an overly realistic view of the world around her, to the point where she seemingly borderlines nihilism. Be wary of her sharp tongue, pessimistic opinions, and most importantly, reckless combat methods that borderline suicidal. It is extremely hard to break her back down to her real self quickly, as it takes downtime after the mission for her to slowly thaw out. Unfortunately, there seems to be an ever growing problem. Rei does not understand what it means to develop relations with others. She can communicate, but she is unable to understand emotions. Being surrounded by in animated objects and researchers does not allow one to know what it means to feel sad, to feel happy. She can only organize the feelings of others into categories of 'friendly', 'neutral', and 'hostile'. The First Ten Years: From a young age, Rei had less than average interest in the usual training that everyone was forced to do. No matter what, she seemed to take basic training as something that was wrong, that wasn't meant for her. Of course, this angered the higher-ups. However, she had caught their interest, when during one of the psychological tests, Rei had answered every question. Without giving time for the psychologist to even ask. She had memorized the multitude of questions with only several sessions. While she had only average fighting capabilities, her mental capabilities were on top. Choosing to refine that strength, they tested her, giving her many papers to memorize, ranging from blueprints of vehicles and weaponry, to charts and data. No only did she easily memorize it all, she was capable of adapting her knowledge, akin to the knowledge of fixing the transmission of a car, being used to fix a tank. Anything technologically or mechanically related, Rei was capable of utilizing. Unfortunately, due her her unusual pathway, Rei did not develop social skills nor understand herself. While she can still communicate with others, it isn't at an intimate level exactly. It's more akin to a bunch of 1's and 0's being transferred. Cybernetic Augmentations: A wireless neural implant that connects to a durable collar on her neck. The collar acts as an antenna and holographic projectors for the neural implant. While the holoscreens are actually intangible, and she recently learned how to create the image of the screen mentally and work with them inside her mind, her habit generally trumps over, using the holoscreens akin to a touchscreen. Granted, the holoscreens are a good alternative to printing out maps during debriefing. Through the collar, Rei is capable of wirelessly connecting to any system that is broadcasting. Even closed systems she can access, so long as she manages to break through the firewalls and digital defenses. Out on the field, she is capable of either sending out pulses, akin to a radar, from the collar, before broadcasting the resulting image to other view holoscreen. This enables her to technically 'see' in zero visibility conditions. However, the pulses are detectable, and can possibly alert any hostiles. In the worst case scenario, it also functions as an EMP, although this fries the collar. In technicality, without the collar, the neural implant can still function, but lacks the scanning and EMP capabilities, as well as being shorter in range. Combat Role: Communications, EW, and Engineer. Compared to the other's in the Daedalus program, Rei is not as capable in direct combat. Her specialty lies in supporting others, through sorting out jumbled information from multiple teammates, to piloting and repairing most vehicles on the fly, and even through wireless electronical warfare. However, at the odd times where she is required to fight, she seems to be able to hold her own well enough with the standard Hawke MkIII's Loadout: Although not a specialized combatant, Rei carries around the basic loud out of dual Hawke MkIII's, modified with extended magazines, alongside a large pack filled with tools required for repairing a multitude of machinery.
23,849	687	3	2,351	411	Une partie de Nate a dû admettre qu'il aimait cette punition. Bien sûr, il détestait que son équipe avait perdu, mais c'était quand même une excellente activité d'équipe. Même s'il était un peu plus grand que ses frères et sœurs, Nate est toujours parti comme Alpha était plus d'une famille qu'une équipe. Il a peut-être été le seul à y penser de cette façon, mais quand même. Nate a gardé son poids lourd sur son dos. Nate aurait plus de choses à ajouter à son cahier sur toute l'équipe. Il a gardé des notes surtout parce qu'il savait que le Dr Iqbal faisait la même chose pour toutes les équipes. Nate s'est dit qu'il pouvait le faire seul. Sam: Un grand chef qui pourrait avoir besoin d'aide avec la tactique. Nate aimait penser qu'il pouvait l'aider à cet égard. Il appréciait aussi le fait qu'elle ait dit qu'ils devaient écouter ses idées. Il aimait cette idée. Alex: Bien sûr Nate n'aimait pas qu'il ne soit pas aussi calme que le reste, mais au moins il savait s'amuser. Nate a dû admettre qu'il voyait Alex comme un ami. C'était des opposés polaires, bien sûr. Nate a rarement montré des émotions. Nate ne savait pas quoi penser d'elle. Elle semblait assez calme. C'était assez bien pour Nate. "Sam a raison. On ne peut pas tous parler des autres. J'ai essayé de dire un plan pour nous aider à gagner, mais il a été ignoré." Il a dit qu'il n'avait pas l'air en colère ou quelque chose comme ça. Il semblait s'ennuyer. Nate a couru donc il était parallèle à Sam et Alex. "Nous devons agir plus comme une équipe moins comme une mafia. "Nat poursuivit. Il semblait heureux. Eh bien heureux pour Nate qui voulait dire qu'il souriait un peu ce qui pourrait sembler bizarre pour certains mais encore une fois c'était Nate.	Name: Samantha Aviram Call sign: Seraphim ID TAG: 220677 Gender: Female Psychological Record: Sam is first and foremost an optimist. It takes a tremendous amount of effort to bring her down, as she is constantly looking for a way to keep her head up. She’s rarely seen without a smile on her face, and her knack for jokes often keeps those around her in good spirits as well. But it is her motivation and ambition that keeps her going behind her optimistic outlook. She strives to be better each day that she wakes up, and is immensely proud of her standing in life. Consequently, her mental fortitude is remarkable, making Sam an almost unbreakable figure mentally and emotionally. However, this tends to blur the lines of respect and command for Sam, as she can sometimes believe that her way of doing something is better than how she’s told to do it. The First Ten Years: For the most part, Sam was pretty much on par with the majority of Alpha. However, it was her knack for computer sciences and martial arts that caused her to stand out. On the tech side, Sam displayed a natural affinity for all things computer, be it software or hardware. On the martial arts side, she was often the first to master the physical and combative demands, though the disciplinary demands of martial arts were sometimes lost to her. She adopted the optimism and ambition of many martial arts, but failed to wrap her head completely around order and discipline. As such, Sam often had to be set straight, as her confidence got the best of her and brought her out of line. This led directly into Sam falling behind in combat tactics and in operating within a team strategically. Cybernetic Augmentations: Sam’s most important augmentation is the neural implant placed in her head that basically makes her a walking computer access terminal. The neural work is extensive, and works in tandem with the robotic left eye she’s been given in order to maximize effectiveness. When Sam “plugs into” a computer, a display pops up in her left eye, organizing any files or programs within, and allows her thoughts to translate directly into the computer. She can plug into two different computers or devices at a time, allowing her to transfer files or facilitate the employment of a virus or any other kind of software into a computer, all through the use of her eye. In order to plug in, the neural implant includes a port in the back of Sam’s head. It is considered a vulnerability, but due to the nature of the GRAM Assault Armor and the Daedelus Initiative, if anyone besides Sam can access the port, Sam’s probably dead anyways. When she isn’t plugged in, Sam’s eye allows a HUD to be displayed over her standard vision, removing the need of any kind of visor-implemented HUD. However, the eye does nothing to enhance vision any more than the genetic augments allowed, as further ocular enhancement would overtask the cybernetics in her head and likely melt her brain. Fun stuff. Combat Role: CQC + Cyber Warfare To clarify, Sam’s cyber warfare role is much more hands on, focused on local disruption of any enemy tech when ranged access fails. Combined with her close quarters expertise, Sam excels at manually accessing enemy tech and taking control of it or disrupting it in any way possible. Loadout: The Lupus Storm XMVII, commonly known as the “Lupus X7,” is a prototype carbine developed specifically for the Daedalus Initiative. Effective at a range of no more than 100 m. due to its rate of fire of 1500 rounds per minute, the X7 fires so quickly and with such force that superhuman strength, dexterity, and reflexes are absolutely required for practical use. The Lupus X7 fills the close- to mid-range gaps left by the ARR-221; while the ARR was an effective adaptive weapon system, Lupus sought to create a weapon that simply excelled in CQC. The X7 meets and exceeds such requirements, thus providing a solution for soldiers looking for an edge in close quarters. Sam also carries a BS-MKV and two Hawke MK III’s. Her non-combat equipment includes a variety of tech, including devices that give her neural implant access to any kind of computer or tech, various EMP devices, and other gear.
23,850	687	4	2,045	703	Liu écouta attentivement les propos de ses coéquipiers, en hurlant en entendant les questions dont ses différents coéquipiers ont parlé -- ce qui se résume essentiellement à : « Nous sommes nuls à travailler ensemble et à communiquer! » Bien sûr, Liu ne dirait jamais cela devant ses coéquipiers -- ses alliés. Au lieu de commenter leurs fautes et de les critiquer en tant que groupe, il avait trouvé que ses coéquipiers avaient... déjà fait ça. Donc, pour cette conversation, il a pris une position plutôt favorable de côté. "Essayons plus fort la prochaine fois, les gars!" Liu a dit, sa voix innocente par-pubescent étant un peu plus forte que d'habitude. "Je sais qu'on peut le faire!" Liu sourit alors que sa tête et ses yeux se déplaçaient d'une personne à l'autre, voulant s'assurer que chacun de ses coéquipiers l'entendait. Après avoir souri à tout le monde pendant quelques secondes, il a déplacé sa tête en arrière, ses yeux regardant la meute de la personne en face de lui. "Faut les battre la prochaine fois!" Liu a déclaré comme une pensée après, avant que son regard ne tombe soudainement à terre, son sourire semble disparaître. Son esprit a commencé à rejouer les souvenirs du jeu Capturer le drapeau entre l'escadron 1 et l'escadron 20. Il a commencé à gronder, se déplaçant le doigt sur sa joue alors qu'il se rappelait lentement à quel point le jeu s'est passé horriblement, comme Liu avait agi horriblement pendant toute la partie. Il s'était enfui seul, essayant de dépister l'escadron 20 alors qu'il se déplaçait rapidement dans tout le champ de bataille. Dès qu'il eut aperçu l'Escadron 20, il se souvint que l'un d'eux disait l'acronyme à trois lettres, ce qui faisait que Liu devenait inutilement fou. Il a serré les deux poings alors qu'il regardait le sol. Liu avait une haine inutile pour eux. Il ne pouvait pas l'expliquer, mais il les détestait. Il ne voulait rien d'autre que détruire la planète qu'ils inhibaient, parce que comment le pouvaient-ils? Comment ont-ils pu trahir leur propre espèce, tirer sur leur propre espèce d'abord sans aucune hésitation? Après que toute l'humanité ait traversé, il fallait qu'il y ait une autre faille? Liu secoua la tête violemment, essayant de reprendre ses pensées sur l'escadron 20 alors qu'il regardait le sol. Peut-être que si Liu n'était pas devenu fou, peut-être que le match aurait été différent, peut-être qu'ils auraient gagné. Mais ils ne l'ont pas fait. Ils ne l'ont pas fait, et c'était à cause de ce damné chien de l'escadron 20. La tête de Liu se leva lentement, son sourire ayant disparu pour être remplacé par une grimace. "Parce que je veux les détruire."	Name: Liu Qiū Jin Call Sign: Wanderer ID Tag: 127689 Gender: Male Liu has a deep hatred for the AGS, whereas his other peers may act indifference towards them, Liu absolutely despises them more so than anything else. Whenever he hears the acronym or even sees a picture of an AGS soldier or civilian, he’ll go mad with rage. During Liu’s first ten years on Haoma, he was always a rather reserved child. He would never speak up unless he was spoken to, in which case he could carry a very fluent conversation with someone. This wasn’t exactly a problem, but more or less a strength. He was always very “good” at following orders. For his classes, Liu took a very quick liking to Military History, disregarding Science and Mathematics as, in his words, “useless.” Every day in his Military History class, he would always pay attention, staring at his teacher and the board until class was over, taking mental notes inside of his head. Outside of his classes, however, whenever they had free time, Liu would always wander around, never being the one to sit still and relax. At first, when Liu first began to wander around, guards tried to stop him, but as they saw him continue to wander around, day after day, they stopped their futile efforts to dissuade the boy and allowed him to wander around – with supervision of course as there would always be at least one person trailing him. This wandering of Liu’s led to his call sign being fittingly called, Wanderer. At the age of seventeen, both of Liu’s legs were amputated not due to an injury, but by request from Doctor Amaan Iqbal himself. The request was met with a lot controversy and backlash by numerous people inside of the Daedalus project, but was ultimately fulfilled once Liu gave his consent – even though it wasn’t needed, Doctor Amaan asked anyways. During surgery, Liu went under anesthesia and without feeling any pain, both of his legs were amputated only to be replaced by lighter, cybernetic ones. These new legs would allow Liu to be faster – due to the fact that they were much lighter – and stealthier. Even though the GRAM MARK I Assault Armor already allowed for a more faster soldier, this augmentation allowed Liu to easily become the fastest – and the quietest. These new legs are meant to have the same look as normal human legs, in fact, being nearly identical to human legs, aside from the fact that they are made from some sort of strong, lightweight metal. Along with his legs also comes with a suppressant system that was added in as a sort of "upgrade" after his Psychological Reassessment. Scout Because of Liu's legs allowing him to run faster and move quietly -- albeit not when he's running -- Liu serves as a perfect Scout, being able to scout the mission area ahead perfectly and safely, since he can run from any danger he sees. Liu has two loadouts depending on the mission at hand. This loadout is Liu’s least favorite, seeing as how it is meant for missions where they – his squad mates and him – don’t go in stealthily. 1xARR-221 Long Barrel modification Foregrip modification Folding Stock modification 1.3x Magnification Scope modification 9x Magazines 2x Hawke MK III 4x Magazines 2x Smoke Grenades 2x Fragmentation Grenades 1x Combat Knife 2x Medical Gel Injector Liu’s favorite loadout since it allows him to do what he is meant to do best. 1xARR-221 Suppressor modification Foregrip modification 2x Magnification Scope modification 5x Magazines 1x Hawke MK III w/ Laser Sight modification 3x Magazines 3x Smoke Grenades 1x Fragmentation Grenade 1x Combat Knife 1x Medical Gel Injector___> Accessing ID: 127689 ___> Accessing Psychological ReassessmentPSYCHOLOGICAL REASSESSMENT OF LIU QIŪ JIN Examiner: Doctor Henry A. Likens Date: 10 April 3717 Patient Liu Qiū Jin is a very interesting patient. I was sent in to do a psychological reassessment of the boy, to see if he was still fit for duty. After a long three hour session, where Liu was nearly… energetic and very outspoken, I can safely say without a doubt that he is more than fit. He has taken very well to both the amputation and his new legs, even running around the room at times to show me just how fast he’s become – even though he tripped a few times. While he hasn’t exactly gotten used to his legs since he has tripped every now and then, he has a sense of the ability to walk and run with them… in less than the first day. More impressive than any other amputee who has gotten new cybernetic legs, but this is to be expected from a boy from the Daedalus Project, I suppose. Now, there is something I would like to bring up with Liu… whenever I would mention about the AGS and his purpose, it appears that he would be quaking with anger, even punching the wall a few times when I would repeatedly mention it. Once he was finished, he hastily apologized, and I allowed for him a few minutes to relax – which caused him to walk around the room in circles – while I looked over his files. These… outbursts of rage that he has had throughout his life – which appears to have started at the age of eight – seems to be caused by just the mere mention of the AGS… Once I realized this connection, I took out a picture of a soldier, allowing him to see it for a few seconds before I remarked that it was an AGS soldier. The next course of his actions surprised me, where he grabbed the picture and tore it into pieces before throwing it into the ground, stomping on it with a look of fury in his eyes. He reminds me of a child whenever he enters this state of rage. Because of this, I recommend for his GRAM MARK I Assault Armor to be fitted with some sort of… suppressant system. I have no doubt that whenever he goes on a mission that he’ll go mad with rage unless something stops him, and I feel as if suppressants are the most effective way to stop him, both on duty and out of duty.
23,851	687	5	322	492	Francis Newman - Un autre matin, Un autre jour à Haoma Le matin était assez froid pour ne pas être trop insupportable pour l'Escouade 1, mais pas trop confortable surtout avec les dix kilos supplémentaires qui étaient serrés à la taille de Francis, une répercussion terrible qui a servi de punition pour avoir perdu un jeu de Capture le drapeau contre l'escadron 20, en dehors de leurs « problèmes personnels ». Bien que ce n'était certainement pas sa faute pour ses camarades "comrades" étant aussi simple d'esprit ou même tête chaude comme ils étaient, mais c'était la vie de travailler dans une équipe, si seulement il pouvait travailler seul. Dans la solitude, il ne pouvait se trouver limité par une telle nuisance. Si seulement ils étaient à son niveau. Pourquoi de toutes les personnes devrait-il être soumis à la punition alors que c'était clairement leur insolence et comportement insouciant tels que tout le monde, y compris lui, en difficulté? Heureusement, ce n'était qu'une course du matin. Si cela n'avait pas été le cas, la chaleur aurait certainement causé d'importants dégâts physiques ou ramené de terribles souvenirs des amis du pauvre garçon qui mouraient d'un coup de chaleur. Bien que courir à 4h du matin était certainement beaucoup mieux que courir au milieu de la journée où il transpirait si mal, il allait tremper tout son équipement et lui faire, et les autres, l'odeur d'une odeur très terrible qui a duré des jours. Pendant le jogging, comme toujours, l'équipe a parlé entre eux alors que le garçon restait totalement silencieux, et n'a jamais prononcé un seul mot, ni même même un geste de se plaindre comme il le faisait toujours la plupart du temps. Non seulement le jeune soldat silencieux et intelligent avait-il un dédain pour les gens et un petit « chit-chat », il trouvait toujours que ses paroles pouvaient potentiellement contenir sa propre faiblesse et s'exposer à ses ennemis, quel qu'ils soient parmi son propre escadron. Tout cela était principalement les raisons de résider dans le privé dans ses propres pensées pendant que ses camarades parlaient entre eux, car il pouvait vraiment se soucier moins de ce qu'ils pensent de lui ou de quoi que ce soit du tout. Mais trente-trois kilomètres? Dans moins d'une heure?! Il se penchait avec ingéniosité, tandis que le poids de sa ceinture se déplaçait rapidement en haut et en bas, ce qui semblait le tirer sur lui pendant qu'il joggait derrière les autres discrètement, essayant de ne pas être remarqué. Un supplément de dix kilogrammes ne lui ferait certainement pas de mal, bien qu'ils étaient beaucoup, mais il n'a trouvé aucune vraie raison de se plaindre; soit vous couriez le jour, ou le jour vous courait. Bien que ce soit bien différent de ce qu'il avait l'habitude de faire. Néanmoins, Francis s'est retrouvé à courir à un rythme quelque peu raisonnable avant de trouver un peu de confort pendant la course vigoureuse du matin et le nombre de kilomètres qu'il a dû parcourir (ce qui s'est avéré être un nombre divisible par trois) - Tout en faisant les calculs dans sa tête pour s'assurer qu'il ne courait pas seulement un rythme qui apporterait certainement le résultat le plus désiré pour l'équipe et lui-même qui, bien sûr, a pris une quantité de pas qui ont été divisibles par trois au moment où il est revenu à s'étirer après pour un rafraîchissement. Francis joggait le long de la route rugueuse, derrière l'escouade, mais pas trop loin, ni même directement derrière eux, au point où la saleté lui serait donné un coup de pied au visage ou à son équipement PT. Il n'y avait certainement pas de problème à être derrière, aussi longtemps qu'il pouvait peut-être montrer un peu et sprint devant eux vers la fin de la piste. Cette habitude était ce qu'il aimait être dans les courses d'endurance comme c'était habituel pour François, du moins de cette façon il pouvait facilement étendre ses jambes assez loin afin d'assurer qu'il a définitivement couru un certain nombre de pas qui, encore, ont été divisibles par trois, un nombre qu'il ne se sent jamais à l'aise sans. Bien qu'il y ait eu beaucoup de choses que François n'a pas trouvé satisfaisantes. D'abord, Francis détestait la cadence. Principalement parce qu'il a jeté hors de son compte prudent comme il a réalisé que le nombre de mesures qu'il prendrait n'ont pas été pris en compte avant qu'il est allé à la ligne d'arrivée à condition. L'obsédé compulsif pouvait facilement se retrouver dans un nombre pair, premier, ou tout autre nombre qui n'était pas divisible par trois par accident ce qui le rendrait mal à l'aise; bien que des nombres entiers accidentels qui n'étaient pas dans trois n'étaient pas aussi terrifiants pour François que des fractions ou même pire: Infinitesimals, le nombre le plus pire mais le plus intéressant de tous. Puis étaient les « initiés » incompétents avec lesquels il travaillait et leurs « problèmes personnels » comme le disait Castle, mais s'il y avait une chose qu'il pouvait aimer, c'était le sentiment d'optimisme sophomorique de Valke. Bien qu'il n'ait vraiment jamais trouvé Alex drôle en aucun sens, surtout quand il a commencé à imiter des voix dans le fauxto qu'il a trouvé incroyablement ennuyeux, il était toujours agréable de voir quelqu'un avec un comportement non aussi agressif que le reste des initiés dans son escadron. Il y avait quelques aspects au sujet du soldat qu'il a trouvé honnêtement très aimés tels que ses plaisirs joyeusement simples dans la vie, une attitude insouciante et surtout, son apparence de confiance, et combien il se sentait connecté autour de lui qui font le jeune garçon troublé se sentir à l'aise depuis le moment où ses deux amis sont morts tragiquement d'un coup de chaleur. Mais s'il y avait une chose qu'ils avaient tous en commun, c'était la haine que chacun d'entre eux partageait, c'est-à-dire le château du "commandant" et leurs rivaux, l'escadron 20. Francis fit de son mieux pour rester tranquille alors qu'il courait un bon rythme le long de la piste légèrement derrière ses camarades.	Name: Nathan Wellington Call sign: Doc ID TAG: 748-923 Gender: Male Psychological Record: Loading excerpt from Daedalus records. Load complete. The subject, hereafter designated as Nate, seems to have a natural desire to protect or fix his "siblings". Since he was young, the subject has always tried to help anyone he can with whatever he can get his hands on. The subject seems calm under fire while doing his work. This calm nature seems to extend to his siblings as well. No matter what they do the subject will listen and offer advice or try to help. He seems able to quickly jump between healing someone and killing an enemy without thought. The subject never shows if he is angry at someone. Oddly the subject seems to care for each one of his siblings and knows each of their names. The First Ten Years: Request History File: Granted Nathan has always cared for his siblings and this shows in his actions. From the beginning it was clear that he was not blood crazy. He will kill but will show no real feelings towards it either way. A changing event of his life was when he was reading an old book about anatomy and he noticed a fellow recruit bleeding from a stomach wound. Nate could tell just by looking at this man he was not going to make it to one of the doctors in time to survive. Nate did not have any medical gel on hand so he used what he had. Nate had a traditional medical kit and a book on human anatomy. A few minutes later one of the instructors was called in and saw Nate leaned over the fellow soldier sewing him up. He had managed to save the young man or at least stabilize him long enough to get medical gel in him. From that day forth Nate was trained to be a medic. Nate is very good at fixing people both mentally and physically. He cares for everyone else in his "family". He tries to act as both a brother and a friend to his entire team. Cybernetic Augmentations: Doc has a Caduceus medical chip inside his brain that shows the status of his entire squad. It can show him their heart beats and other medical facts about them. It helps him figure out the best course of action to help his teammates. Combat Role: Field Medic To clarify this, you need to look at all of Nate. Most troops have medical gel injector which is nice and all but it can only do so much. You need to be able to fix multiple different injuries while in the field. Doc carries a few different gels that seem to have different effects on his siblings. He is trained to be able to both heal and kill. Loadout: -two smoke and two fragmentation grenades - a combat knife -medical gel injector Cadmus 23-beta injector armband. This device is capable of injecting different serums into allies. -Red: Doc calls this one Berserk. For a short period of time, depending on the person, all pain responses to the brain are ignored. The person can withstand more punishment than before and it makes the person even faster and stronger. It wears off quickly though. -Blue: Mellow. This one is useful to slow down the effects of the red gel since it calms the user down. -Green: A stronger version of the standard medical gel. It works faster and is reserved for truly terrible wounds. It has a combat feature where he can activate an electric knife. HF Gruber Submachine gun This gun is designed to be easy to use and light enough so Nate can focus on healing.
23,852	687	6	1,011	1,386	Complexe Daedalus Haoma 12 heures Un mois plus tard Les enfants de l'escadron 1 et de l'escadron 20 se tenaient à l'attention devant la zone de capture du drapeau. Devant eux s'est assis une petite cabane carrée squat connue sous le nom de Base 1, plus bas à travers la forêt était Base 2 les deux bâtiments servant de bases respectives pour les équipes pendant le match. Les deux escadrons attendent avec impatience cette reprise depuis un certain temps, l'escadron 1 et l'escadron 20 ont eu une sorte de rivalité l'un contre l'autre qui s'est étendue tout au début lorsque l'escadron 1 a battu l'escadron 20 lors de l'épreuve d'obstacles qui a débuté au cours de la première semaine d'entraînement. L'escadron 1 voulait récupérer leur honneur de la terrible défaite du mois dernier et de l'entraînement du mois suivant de l'enfer de Castle en conséquence. L'Escadron 20 a voulu remporter une autre victoire face à ses ennemis parce que gagner contre les perdants, même les perdants, était toujours amusant. Alors que l'on s'attendait à ce qu'ils parlent entre eux ou même qu'ils lancent des insultes à l'autre équipe, tous deux assis silencieusement à l'attention de leur entraînement ont priorité sur les petites rivalités, peu importe à quel point le contraire semblait être. Quelque part où ils savaient que les autres enfants du programme Daedalus regardaient, les grands jeux toujours diffusés dans la salle d'instruction étaient les autres assis et regarder pour prendre des notes sur la tactique et voir où d'autres escouades allaient mal. Bien que dans ce cas, il était moins d'une simulation d'entraînement et plus de sport de sang de hte qui était sur le point de descendre dans la grande un contre vingt rivalité. Les pas de Stern s'approchaient d'eux et bientôt avec un château était là avec quelques-uns de ses assistants. Les aides ont commencé à distribuer l'équipement aux élèves sans équipement de protection, ils n'avaient qu'un capteur pour détecter quand ils ont été frappés et appliquer un choc au corps les paralysant temporairement et les mettant dans l'état « mort » et pratiquent des fusils à balles en caoutchouc à grande vitesse qui pourraient infliger la même douleur d'une balle avec aucun des dommages ainsi les enfants ont été acclimated à la sensation d'être fusillés. Comme ils se sont adaptés, Castle a regardé silencieusement ses mains derrière son dos en attendant qu'elles se préparent. Son regard sévère les regardait comme un faucon regarderait leurs proies, il avait de grandes attentes aujourd'hui pour les deux équipes, mais plus encore pour l'escadron 1 de se racheter pour l'horrible démonstration qu'ils avaient la dernière fois. Toute l'équipe était composée d'excellentes personnes qui étaient excellentes dans leurs emplois respectifs, mais ensemble, elles semblaient tout simplement ne pas pouvoir suivre le rythme dont elles avaient besoin. Le travail d'équipe était encore plus important que l'habileté individuelle quand on poussait à pousser et s'ils n'avaient pas eu qu'ils se font massacrer dans le combat actif. Comme ils ont fini, il a parlé au jeu d'explication d'aujourd'hui. "Bonjour les recrues. Vous savez tous les deux pourquoi vous êtes ici, un groupe pour restaurer leur honneur et l'autre pour le maintenir. Mais aujourd'hui, on change les choses sur toi parce qu'on t'aime tellement. Aujourd'hui n'est pas le jeu normal de capture du drapeau auquel vous avez été habitué. Aujourd'hui, chaque équipe n'a pas deux drapeaux, aujourd'hui, seul l'escadron 1 a un drapeau qu'il doit défendre de l'escadron 20. Ce drapeau n'est pas non plus un drapeau auquel vous vous êtes habitués, aujourd'hui ce n'est pas du tissu, aujourd'hui il est fait de chair. Frisquer devant et au centre!" Une jeune fille aux cheveux blonds courts et aux yeux bleus brillants, qui s'approchait presque doucement du centre, sortit de l'escadron Twenty Line. Astrid Frisque le chef de facto de l'Escadron Vingt. Une fille assez standard pour la plupart, elle avait un esprit tactique brillant et était connue avec appréhension par certaines des autres équipes à quel point elle déchiquerait efficacement leurs défenses. Elle se tenait devant le château qui l'a regardée pendant qu'elle parlait. "Astrid Frisque reporting pour le service monsieur!" "Je vous félicite aujourd'hui d'être un drapeau." Il a expliqué avec une quantité d'amusement sec à sa voix alors qu'il a produit un ensemble de lourdes chaînes qu'il attachait à ses mains. Elle l'a regardé presque confus, regardant en arrière sa propre équipe qui a regardé en arrière sa stoïque. Castle a fait un geste vers l'escadron 1, la poussant dans le groupe où elle se tenait mal à l'aise sur le côté. « D'accord, les règles standard s'appliquent à tous, vous avez une heure pour vous préparer, ne pouvez pas quitter la zone désignée ou sinon les capteurs vous choqueront de toute façon, ne mourez pas etcetera. Maintenant, depuis l'Escadron Vingt et un, le dernier match signifie que l'Escadron Un va devoir parler de la marche jusqu'à la Base 2. Maintenant, bougez-vous!" Base 2 Haoma 12 h 10 L'escadron 1 se tenait devant la petite cabane peinte en bleu qui était considérée comme étant la base 21. Ils concevaient un plan pour l'attaque à venir en parlant entre eux. Astrid était assise dans la cabane en pensant à elle-même alors qu'elle les écoutait parler. Ils discutaient de la façon de s'y installer correctement et du meilleur plan pour s'assurer que l'Escadron Vingt n'a pas gagné à nouveau. Elle a laissé un soupir frapper la tête contre l'arrière de la cabane. Elle y a écouté la conversation et s'est demandé en silence comment ils ont obtenu quelque chose fait parce qu'il semblait chaque fois que c'est venu à des tacits de cuivre tout le monde avait un plan et tout ce qu'ils ont fait était argumenter sans jamais parvenir à un consensus. Elle se demandait comment sa propre équipe faisait, ils avaient probablement déjà un plan, ils savaient comment chaque équipe fonctionnait, alors il s'agissait juste d'exploiter leur propre faiblesse contre eux. L'escadron 1 a été facile alors, tout ce que vous avez fait était d'attaquer comme une équipe contre eux et leurs défenses de patchwork s'effondreraient alors qu'ils se brouillaient tous pour faire leur propre chose. Elle secoua la tête en essayant d'obtenir une touffe de cheveux errante de son visage alors qu'elle murmurait à elle-même sous son souffle assez fort pour que ces plus perspicaces puissent faire les mots exacts. "Une stratégie défensive ne marchera pas."	Name: (All the children were given normal first and last names to give a sense of normalcy) Call sign: ID TAG: (A Six digit number unique to each and every member of Daedalus) Gender: Psychological Record:(What makes them tick?) The First Ten Years: (The RP starts with the children about at the age of ten when their training really kicks into high gear. So I'm going to need you to tell me about their first ten years of training on Haoma. What classes did they like, what did they excel at, what were they bad at. Anything life altering happen like witnessing a fellow child die or something? You can keep this brief or make it long it is really up to you. I just need to have a good feeling of your characters.) Cybernetic Augmentations: (All of the soldiers are genetically augmented to be better, faster and stronger as Daft Punk might say but some are also cybernetically augmented with robot parts to help in their designated roles Combat Role: (What do they specialize in?) Loadout: (What weapons and equipemnt do they usually carry with them to complete their job. All soldiers are equipped with two smoke and two fragmentation grenades, a combat knife and a medical gel injector.) NPCS One of the head researcher of Military Technologies division and the now current head of the Daedalus Project. A small and thin man eighty years of age, prefers the use of the wheelchair instead of using his cybernetic legs. A fair man to his employees and tries his best to be kind and moderate to the children of the Daedalus project. Never not seen in a form fitting three piece suit. Current head of Special Operations Command and as a result one of the most important people in the entire Union. Doctor Amman's boss and the man who has invested a lot of military resources into getting Daedalus off the ground. SOC military adviser sent by Admiral Crane to follow and observe the growth of his super soldiers to make sure that they reach their standards. Jerome Castle is the man that SOC had entrusted in making sure that their super soldiers got the best damn training this side of the galaxy. A highly decorated veteran if Mr. Castle knows one thing it would be war. Alpha Company To Be Updated
23,853	687	7	1,236	1,764	Rei garda le silence, alors qu'elle regardait le reste de la Squad 1 tenter quelque chose qui ne ressemblait qu'à un plan, tout en exécutant essentiellement des simulations de chacune de leurs tactiques dans son esprit. La plupart d'entre eux, sinon tous, étaient voués à l'échec, le scénario le plus probable étant le dépassement. Ses yeux dérivent vers la blonde de la Squad 20. Du passé, elle était la leader derrière le 20. Cependant, tous les plans que Rei aurait pu avoir, elle a mis de côté, choisissant d'attendre les arguments de ses coéquipiers. Au moins, c'était le cas, jusqu'à ce qu'elle prenne les mots tranquilles de leur 'flag'. Ces paroles avaient suscité une idée très dangereuse et peut - être immorale, mais néanmoins efficace. On pouvait entendre le bruit d'une balle en caoutchouc dans son fusil, avant qu'elle ne vise et ne tire, dans l'espoir d'attirer l'attention de tout le monde. Une fois qu'elle était certaine d'avoir attrapé la plupart d'entre eux, Rei a commencé à parler. "Utilisons-la. Il s'agit moins d'un jeu de "capture du drapeau", et plus proche d'une situation d'otage. Utilisez-la comme un bouclier." Ses paroles étaient froides, dures, mais extrêmement réalistes. Cependant, ils seraient doux par rapport à ce qu'elle a dit ensuite. "Aussi, considérant qu'elle est la tête de la meute, elle saurait quel genre de tactique le vingtième utiliserait. Interrogez-la pour information." Des mots plus froids qu'un canister cryogénique, le regard de Rei semblait aiguiser, les yeux dorés et bleus se rétrécissant alors qu'ils regardaient les yeux bleus d'Astrid, non, le drapeau. Aux yeux de Rei, elle n'était rien de plus qu'un objet en ce moment. Yeux froids, sans coeur, mille regards de cour. "Si elle n'a pas envie de répondre, tuez-la." Comme si elle avait raison, Rei a fait un nouveau tour dans son fusil, avant de planter la muselière contre l'estomac d'Astrid. "Ce n'est pas une joueuse cette fois, c'est un drapeau. Tirer sur elle plusieurs fois devrait être bien."	Name: Tenrei Yuuyami, Rei for short Call sign: Void ID TAG: 442564 Gender: Female Psychological Record: Rei flips back and forth between two personalities, which is evident right before debriefing. Although one is merely a 'mask', or a facade, it is still difficult to realize this. Her true personality is laid back, relaxed, and whimsical, and almost cat-like. Her actions and her words will be thought up on the spot, with zero filters of any kind, bringing about troubles with her honest thoughts. However, the moment the order to mobilize is called for, Rei's personality flips, becoming apathetic, with an overly realistic view of the world around her, to the point where she seemingly borderlines nihilism. Be wary of her sharp tongue, pessimistic opinions, and most importantly, reckless combat methods that borderline suicidal. It is extremely hard to break her back down to her real self quickly, as it takes downtime after the mission for her to slowly thaw out. Unfortunately, there seems to be an ever growing problem. Rei does not understand what it means to develop relations with others. She can communicate, but she is unable to understand emotions. Being surrounded by in animated objects and researchers does not allow one to know what it means to feel sad, to feel happy. She can only organize the feelings of others into categories of 'friendly', 'neutral', and 'hostile'. The First Ten Years: From a young age, Rei had less than average interest in the usual training that everyone was forced to do. No matter what, she seemed to take basic training as something that was wrong, that wasn't meant for her. Of course, this angered the higher-ups. However, she had caught their interest, when during one of the psychological tests, Rei had answered every question. Without giving time for the psychologist to even ask. She had memorized the multitude of questions with only several sessions. While she had only average fighting capabilities, her mental capabilities were on top. Choosing to refine that strength, they tested her, giving her many papers to memorize, ranging from blueprints of vehicles and weaponry, to charts and data. No only did she easily memorize it all, she was capable of adapting her knowledge, akin to the knowledge of fixing the transmission of a car, being used to fix a tank. Anything technologically or mechanically related, Rei was capable of utilizing. Unfortunately, due her her unusual pathway, Rei did not develop social skills nor understand herself. While she can still communicate with others, it isn't at an intimate level exactly. It's more akin to a bunch of 1's and 0's being transferred. Cybernetic Augmentations: A wireless neural implant that connects to a durable collar on her neck. The collar acts as an antenna and holographic projectors for the neural implant. While the holoscreens are actually intangible, and she recently learned how to create the image of the screen mentally and work with them inside her mind, her habit generally trumps over, using the holoscreens akin to a touchscreen. Granted, the holoscreens are a good alternative to printing out maps during debriefing. Through the collar, Rei is capable of wirelessly connecting to any system that is broadcasting. Even closed systems she can access, so long as she manages to break through the firewalls and digital defenses. Out on the field, she is capable of either sending out pulses, akin to a radar, from the collar, before broadcasting the resulting image to other view holoscreen. This enables her to technically 'see' in zero visibility conditions. However, the pulses are detectable, and can possibly alert any hostiles. In the worst case scenario, it also functions as an EMP, although this fries the collar. In technicality, without the collar, the neural implant can still function, but lacks the scanning and EMP capabilities, as well as being shorter in range. Combat Role: Communications, EW, and Engineer. Compared to the other's in the Daedalus program, Rei is not as capable in direct combat. Her specialty lies in supporting others, through sorting out jumbled information from multiple teammates, to piloting and repairing most vehicles on the fly, and even through wireless electronical warfare. However, at the odd times where she is required to fight, she seems to be able to hold her own well enough with the standard Hawke MkIII's Loadout: Although not a specialized combatant, Rei carries around the basic loud out of dual Hawke MkIII's, modified with extended magazines, alongside a large pack filled with tools required for repairing a multitude of machinery.
23,854	687	8	215	1,683	Alex s'est tenu à l'attention raide, portant les lunettes de soleil de son aviateur antique de marque, des lentilles réfléchissantes au-dessus de son sourire habituel. Cependant, avec Castle si près, il n'a rien dit, sauf le 'Oui Monsieur', 'Non Monsieur' attendu, et parfois il murmure sous son souffle. Cependant, quand il a vu Astrid sortir de l'autre groupe de la Squad 20, et a entendu ce qui se passait, il a mentalement pompé ses poings dans l'air. Sans Astrid, ils n'auraient pas de leadership actif. Pourtant, même avec Astrid parti, ils ont eu un avantage significatif, parce que Squad 1 ne pouvait pas rassembler leurs merdes. Mais même avec tous leurs problèmes, il aimait toujours chacun d'entre eux. Sam, même si elle devait être la meilleure de tout. Laura, même si elle était trop têtu. Nate, même s'il était trop désintéressé pour son propre bien. Francis, même s'il avait tout ce tas de problèmes dans sa tête. Rei, même si elle lui faisait peur dernièrement. Liu, même s'il a flippé à la simple mention d'AGS. Alex savait qu'il était aussi merdique que les autres, mais encore une fois, qui ne l'était pas, ici? Salutant le château, et rompant avec son escouade, il joua près du devant du groupe, comme toujours. Autant être lui, n'est-ce pas? Jetant un coup d'œil sur Astrid, il a essayé de mesurer sa personnalité, et de voir ce qu'elle pensait de son équipe. Comme il le pensait, elle avait le même éternuement de condescendance que le reste de l'Escouade 20, chaque fois qu'ils voyaient l'Escouade 1. Quand ils sont arrivés à la base 2, ils avaient déjà passé 10 minutes en transit. Cela signifiait qu'ils avaient 50 minutes pour se préparer. Alex se tenait à côté, et regardait attentivement les autres, écoutant chacun de leurs plans, et combattant l'envie de les questionner. Ce sont des idées que son équipe avait, pas des ordres d'un... connard. Il n'avait pas besoin de s'inquiéter de la sincérité ou de la sécurité. Il leur faisait confiance. Il a écouté, puis il a entendu Rei suggérer d'utiliser Astrid comme un bouclier humain, ou même la torturer avec les fusils d'entraînement. Élargissant les yeux, il s'avança jusqu'à l'endroit où Rei se tenait, poussa l'arme loin d'Astrid, et saisit les épaules de Rei, il regarda dans ses yeux, et dit: «Tenrei! On ne peut pas faire ça! C'est ce que AG-" Alex a regardé à Liu une seconde, avant de regarder en arrière à Rei. "Ce qu'ils feraient! Nous devons être meilleurs qu'eux! Quoi qu'il arrive!" En retournant à Astrid, il a souri, et a dit, "Cependant, je ne suggère pas que nous ne l'utilisons pas, d'une manière ou d'une autre. Peut-être qu'étant donné qu'elle est le drapeau, on pourrait l'attacher et l'emmener avec nous, et abandonner la base, et rester mobile? C'est ce qui nous a tués la dernière fois. Nous sommes une équipe de rupture, pas une équipe d'attente." Il s'est tourné vers les autres, en particulier Sam et Laura, les deux dirigeants, pour obtenir leur soutien. Nate était un bon ami, mais il n'était en aucun cas un leader, comme Alex ne l'était pas. Rei serait une bonne meneuse, si elle n'était pas aussi robotisée! Elle a commencé à être de cette façon tôt, autour quand ils avaient six ans, Alex s'est souvenu. Il avait essayé de l'aider, mais il ne pouvait rien faire pour elle, même s'il avait essayé. "Si nous restons mobiles, nous pouvons gagner ce truc."	Name: Alexandre Valke Call sign: Firestorm ID TAG: 211-583 Gender: Male Psychological Record: Alex is... complicated. He is loyal, definitely, but he has an authority complex ingrained in his system, so deep that the officers have given up on him. So long as he follows orders, they suppose. He follows orders well, but won't stop questioning them. Even the most sound orders, he questions. Seriously. He won't ever shut up. However, he finds joy in the simple pleasures in life, such as beautiful sunsets, the sound of gunfire, and watching things go boom, and loves his fellow soldiers dearly. He never really wanted anything more, and is content with the life he has. The First Ten Years: Alex grew up normally, training from birth like the rest of his kin. He formed close bonds with his squad, becoming their brother, if not only in origins, in spirit, too. Most of them, if they got annoyed by him, just accepted him with a wry smile and an exasperated shake of the head. His loyalty to the squad instilled a sense of trust and reliability in his fellows, and while he's a terrible leader, everyone still likes him. However, eight years in, he saw something that changed his life forever. On a routine training run, a fellow soldier, (not from his barrack, but he liked him anyways,) was killed by an order from Jerome. Jerome wasn't necessarily responsible for his death, but ordering the trainee to run from the outer perimeter of the landing pad that they were at, back to formation, for minor insubordination seemed a responsible punishment. No one could've known that a VTOL engine would burn out at the wrong moment, and cause the Tortoise to fall downwards, crashing back down on the pad. The aircraft was fine, needing only a replacement plate for the landing gear's retraction panel. Alexandre's friend, however, was crushed beneath 82,000 pounds of metal, leaving a bloody paste behind on the tarmac. The death was shocking, and disturbed the other trainees, but Alex was the one scarred the most. This left Alexandre with his authority complex, and determination to protect his friends and home. Cybernetic Augmentations: -Alex has a retinal lens implant that covers his left eye that doubles as a motion tracker and optic lens that can zoom up to 45x of normal vision. -He also has a cochlear implant that allows him to pick up on the faintest of sounds, and discern their direction, cause, and tone. Combat Role: Close-Quarters-Combat Specialist and Demolitions Loadout: -2 Smoke Grenades -2 Frag Grenades -Medgel Injector -Combat Knife -MKIII Hermes Power Gloves (Under his armor, allows for more finesse in demolitions situations, and more dexterous hand motion.) -BS-Mk V with modified folding stock. -2 Hawke MK IIIs -10 Military Standard Detonation Packages -5 Fragmentation Mines, Proximity and Trip mines -1 Armored Gauntlet Console Mark Two (AGC-MKII) that allows him accessibility to his explosive devices, able to set them to explode on a timer, by a signal, or on impact, if necessary.
23,855	687	9	2,351	411	L'équipe était dans le petit bâtiment bleu qui avait été désigné comme la base de l'escouade un. Ils ont passé en revue des idées et des stratégies en essayant de surmonter ainsi que d'empêcher un fiasco similaire, comme ce qui s'est passé dans le jeu précédent. Des idées après que des idées aient été jetées dans le mélange, mais aucune d'entre elles n'était bonne. C'est alors que Rei a parlé avec un plan à l'esprit. Son plan était d'utiliser leur drapeau, le chef de la Squad Twenty. Elle voulait utiliser la fille comme bouclier ou même l'interroger pour des informations. Ça ne marcherait pas. Il s'agit simplement d'une violence inutile sans aucune garantie de réaliser quoi que ce soit. Lui tirer dessus n'aiderait pas non plus. Leur but était d'empêcher l'équipe ennemie de récupérer son drapeau, et non de tuer ou de torturer la fille. Cependant, elle est heureuse de voir qu'elle n'était pas la seule à voir ça. Alex s'était également exprimé, indiquant son désaccord avec le plan de son collègue. Il a ensuite élaboré son propre plan. L'attacher et la porter avec elle alors qu'ils allaient mobiles, abandonnant complètement la base. Ce plan pourrait fonctionner, s'ils avaient l'intention de rester mobiles. À l'écoute des idées de ses coéquipiers jusqu'à présent, elle avait combiné des éléments de leurs deux plans pour formuler son propre plan. Mais c'était plutôt une stratégie stationnaire. Laura a ensuite parlé de son plan. "Ok, donc les drapeaux sont réussis à rester haut en haut pour que les gens puissent voir à droite? Je dis qu'on a les yeux bandés et qu'on la bâillonne pour qu'elle ne puisse pas dire un mot et l'attacher dans l'arbre là-bas, où tout le monde peut voir. Nous nous étendrons alors autour du périmètre du drapeau. Puis, quand l'escouade vingt viendra la chercher, nous pourrons utiliser nos armes avec ces balles en caoutchouc terriblement douloureuses pour les tirer dans un effort pour les faire se rendre. » Secouant les mains avant de frapper un poing sur la table, elle a poursuivi : « Il n'y a que deux problèmes à ce plan. Nous devons trouver un moyen de monter là-haut, et un moyen de communiquer entre nous pendant que nous sommes dispersés. » En regardant ses collègues de l'équipe, elle a dit : « N'importe qui d'autre avec une meilleure idée, n'hésitez pas à vous faire entendre. »	Name: Samantha Aviram Call sign: Seraphim ID TAG: 220677 Gender: Female Psychological Record: Sam is first and foremost an optimist. It takes a tremendous amount of effort to bring her down, as she is constantly looking for a way to keep her head up. She’s rarely seen without a smile on her face, and her knack for jokes often keeps those around her in good spirits as well. But it is her motivation and ambition that keeps her going behind her optimistic outlook. She strives to be better each day that she wakes up, and is immensely proud of her standing in life. Consequently, her mental fortitude is remarkable, making Sam an almost unbreakable figure mentally and emotionally. However, this tends to blur the lines of respect and command for Sam, as she can sometimes believe that her way of doing something is better than how she’s told to do it. The First Ten Years: For the most part, Sam was pretty much on par with the majority of Alpha. However, it was her knack for computer sciences and martial arts that caused her to stand out. On the tech side, Sam displayed a natural affinity for all things computer, be it software or hardware. On the martial arts side, she was often the first to master the physical and combative demands, though the disciplinary demands of martial arts were sometimes lost to her. She adopted the optimism and ambition of many martial arts, but failed to wrap her head completely around order and discipline. As such, Sam often had to be set straight, as her confidence got the best of her and brought her out of line. This led directly into Sam falling behind in combat tactics and in operating within a team strategically. Cybernetic Augmentations: Sam’s most important augmentation is the neural implant placed in her head that basically makes her a walking computer access terminal. The neural work is extensive, and works in tandem with the robotic left eye she’s been given in order to maximize effectiveness. When Sam “plugs into” a computer, a display pops up in her left eye, organizing any files or programs within, and allows her thoughts to translate directly into the computer. She can plug into two different computers or devices at a time, allowing her to transfer files or facilitate the employment of a virus or any other kind of software into a computer, all through the use of her eye. In order to plug in, the neural implant includes a port in the back of Sam’s head. It is considered a vulnerability, but due to the nature of the GRAM Assault Armor and the Daedelus Initiative, if anyone besides Sam can access the port, Sam’s probably dead anyways. When she isn’t plugged in, Sam’s eye allows a HUD to be displayed over her standard vision, removing the need of any kind of visor-implemented HUD. However, the eye does nothing to enhance vision any more than the genetic augments allowed, as further ocular enhancement would overtask the cybernetics in her head and likely melt her brain. Fun stuff. Combat Role: CQC + Cyber Warfare To clarify, Sam’s cyber warfare role is much more hands on, focused on local disruption of any enemy tech when ranged access fails. Combined with her close quarters expertise, Sam excels at manually accessing enemy tech and taking control of it or disrupting it in any way possible. Loadout: The Lupus Storm XMVII, commonly known as the “Lupus X7,” is a prototype carbine developed specifically for the Daedalus Initiative. Effective at a range of no more than 100 m. due to its rate of fire of 1500 rounds per minute, the X7 fires so quickly and with such force that superhuman strength, dexterity, and reflexes are absolutely required for practical use. The Lupus X7 fills the close- to mid-range gaps left by the ARR-221; while the ARR was an effective adaptive weapon system, Lupus sought to create a weapon that simply excelled in CQC. The X7 meets and exceeds such requirements, thus providing a solution for soldiers looking for an edge in close quarters. Sam also carries a BS-MKV and two Hawke MK III’s. Her non-combat equipment includes a variety of tech, including devices that give her neural implant access to any kind of computer or tech, various EMP devices, and other gear.
23,856	687	10	2,045	703	Liu a attendu patiemment pendant que ses coéquipiers parlaient, regardant l'arme dans ses mains alors qu'il s'est tordu et a tourné les bras pour la regarder. Il était rempli de balles en caoutchouc qui, bien qu'elles soient encore blessées, n'étaient pas tout à fait mortelles. L'arme non mortelle ressemblait presque à une vraie arme. En fait, c'était une vraie arme, mais on aurait dit que ça pouvait tuer quelqu'un. Après quelques secondes de jouer avec son arme -- même en sortant le magazine quelques fois et en le remettant pour observer les balles en caoutchouc -- Liu s'est tourné vers ses coéquipiers. "J'aime l'idée de Rei," a dit Liu, sa voix calme au début. "C'est un peu grossier et... un peu inhumain, mais peu importe comment on le fait, on doit le faire." Les yeux de Liu erraient, rencontrant le regard de chacun de ses compagnons d'escouade avant de finalement s'installer sur Laura. "Mais! J'aime ton plan aussi! Ce ne serait pas un peu trop évident si... » Liu hésitait un peu, presque comme s'il essayait de trouver quoi dire. Il revient sur Astrid, la fixe quelques secondes avec une lueur froide avant de se retourner vers Laura. "... La fille était en plein air, personne ne la gardait?" Liu a laissé passer quelques secondes de silence avant de lever les mains en l'air. -- Mais je ne sais pas! Liu a dit, en essayant d'agir ludique et joyeux. "Je ne suis pas un très bon tacticien," Liu a donné un petit chanfrein avant de prendre quelques pas loin de ses coéquipiers. "Vous pouvez exécuter n'importe quel plan que vous pensez est le meilleur tant que nous sommes tous d'accord sur elle, okay?"	Name: Liu Qiū Jin Call Sign: Wanderer ID Tag: 127689 Gender: Male Liu has a deep hatred for the AGS, whereas his other peers may act indifference towards them, Liu absolutely despises them more so than anything else. Whenever he hears the acronym or even sees a picture of an AGS soldier or civilian, he’ll go mad with rage. During Liu’s first ten years on Haoma, he was always a rather reserved child. He would never speak up unless he was spoken to, in which case he could carry a very fluent conversation with someone. This wasn’t exactly a problem, but more or less a strength. He was always very “good” at following orders. For his classes, Liu took a very quick liking to Military History, disregarding Science and Mathematics as, in his words, “useless.” Every day in his Military History class, he would always pay attention, staring at his teacher and the board until class was over, taking mental notes inside of his head. Outside of his classes, however, whenever they had free time, Liu would always wander around, never being the one to sit still and relax. At first, when Liu first began to wander around, guards tried to stop him, but as they saw him continue to wander around, day after day, they stopped their futile efforts to dissuade the boy and allowed him to wander around – with supervision of course as there would always be at least one person trailing him. This wandering of Liu’s led to his call sign being fittingly called, Wanderer. At the age of seventeen, both of Liu’s legs were amputated not due to an injury, but by request from Doctor Amaan Iqbal himself. The request was met with a lot controversy and backlash by numerous people inside of the Daedalus project, but was ultimately fulfilled once Liu gave his consent – even though it wasn’t needed, Doctor Amaan asked anyways. During surgery, Liu went under anesthesia and without feeling any pain, both of his legs were amputated only to be replaced by lighter, cybernetic ones. These new legs would allow Liu to be faster – due to the fact that they were much lighter – and stealthier. Even though the GRAM MARK I Assault Armor already allowed for a more faster soldier, this augmentation allowed Liu to easily become the fastest – and the quietest. These new legs are meant to have the same look as normal human legs, in fact, being nearly identical to human legs, aside from the fact that they are made from some sort of strong, lightweight metal. Along with his legs also comes with a suppressant system that was added in as a sort of "upgrade" after his Psychological Reassessment. Scout Because of Liu's legs allowing him to run faster and move quietly -- albeit not when he's running -- Liu serves as a perfect Scout, being able to scout the mission area ahead perfectly and safely, since he can run from any danger he sees. Liu has two loadouts depending on the mission at hand. This loadout is Liu’s least favorite, seeing as how it is meant for missions where they – his squad mates and him – don’t go in stealthily. 1xARR-221 Long Barrel modification Foregrip modification Folding Stock modification 1.3x Magnification Scope modification 9x Magazines 2x Hawke MK III 4x Magazines 2x Smoke Grenades 2x Fragmentation Grenades 1x Combat Knife 2x Medical Gel Injector Liu’s favorite loadout since it allows him to do what he is meant to do best. 1xARR-221 Suppressor modification Foregrip modification 2x Magnification Scope modification 5x Magazines 1x Hawke MK III w/ Laser Sight modification 3x Magazines 3x Smoke Grenades 1x Fragmentation Grenade 1x Combat Knife 1x Medical Gel Injector___> Accessing ID: 127689 ___> Accessing Psychological ReassessmentPSYCHOLOGICAL REASSESSMENT OF LIU QIŪ JIN Examiner: Doctor Henry A. Likens Date: 10 April 3717 Patient Liu Qiū Jin is a very interesting patient. I was sent in to do a psychological reassessment of the boy, to see if he was still fit for duty. After a long three hour session, where Liu was nearly… energetic and very outspoken, I can safely say without a doubt that he is more than fit. He has taken very well to both the amputation and his new legs, even running around the room at times to show me just how fast he’s become – even though he tripped a few times. While he hasn’t exactly gotten used to his legs since he has tripped every now and then, he has a sense of the ability to walk and run with them… in less than the first day. More impressive than any other amputee who has gotten new cybernetic legs, but this is to be expected from a boy from the Daedalus Project, I suppose. Now, there is something I would like to bring up with Liu… whenever I would mention about the AGS and his purpose, it appears that he would be quaking with anger, even punching the wall a few times when I would repeatedly mention it. Once he was finished, he hastily apologized, and I allowed for him a few minutes to relax – which caused him to walk around the room in circles – while I looked over his files. These… outbursts of rage that he has had throughout his life – which appears to have started at the age of eight – seems to be caused by just the mere mention of the AGS… Once I realized this connection, I took out a picture of a soldier, allowing him to see it for a few seconds before I remarked that it was an AGS soldier. The next course of his actions surprised me, where he grabbed the picture and tore it into pieces before throwing it into the ground, stomping on it with a look of fury in his eyes. He reminds me of a child whenever he enters this state of rage. Because of this, I recommend for his GRAM MARK I Assault Armor to be fitted with some sort of… suppressant system. I have no doubt that whenever he goes on a mission that he’ll go mad with rage unless something stops him, and I feel as if suppressants are the most effective way to stop him, both on duty and out of duty.
23,857	687	11	322	492	Nate s'est griffé à la tête. C'était une expérience bizarre, n'est-ce pas? Il n'avait aucune idée de ce qu'ils devraient faire. Il y avait l'idée de porter le drapeau jusqu'à l'arbre et de la laisser là. Bien sûr que cela conduirait à la question d'être fondamentalement coincé dit arbre si l'autre équipe a décidé de cowboy vers le haut et aller pour le drapeau. Puis il y avait l'idée de porter le drapeau avec eux. Ce n'était pas la moitié d'une mauvaise idée, sauf qu'il y avait le même problème que celui d'avant. Aussi l'équipe semblait toujours se séparer. "D'accord. Si nous faisons l'un ou l'autre plan, nous devons travailler ensemble! Un groupe est défensif et les autres éclaireurs en avant. On pourrait poser une embuscade pour l'autre équipe dans les bois. Si l'un d'entre nous grimpe dans l'arbre, nous pourrions avoir un très bon cercle de tuerie sur eux s'ils entrent dans la zone de tuerie." Nate a dit de parler pour une fois. Il en avait marre d'être silencieux. Il a regardé le groupe. "Si l'un d'entre nous veut gagner, nous avons besoin d'un bon plan. Comme mon idée mélangée à une autre?" Il a dit de faire de son mieux pour travailler en équipe.	Name: Nathan Wellington Call sign: Doc ID TAG: 748-923 Gender: Male Psychological Record: Loading excerpt from Daedalus records. Load complete. The subject, hereafter designated as Nate, seems to have a natural desire to protect or fix his "siblings". Since he was young, the subject has always tried to help anyone he can with whatever he can get his hands on. The subject seems calm under fire while doing his work. This calm nature seems to extend to his siblings as well. No matter what they do the subject will listen and offer advice or try to help. He seems able to quickly jump between healing someone and killing an enemy without thought. The subject never shows if he is angry at someone. Oddly the subject seems to care for each one of his siblings and knows each of their names. The First Ten Years: Request History File: Granted Nathan has always cared for his siblings and this shows in his actions. From the beginning it was clear that he was not blood crazy. He will kill but will show no real feelings towards it either way. A changing event of his life was when he was reading an old book about anatomy and he noticed a fellow recruit bleeding from a stomach wound. Nate could tell just by looking at this man he was not going to make it to one of the doctors in time to survive. Nate did not have any medical gel on hand so he used what he had. Nate had a traditional medical kit and a book on human anatomy. A few minutes later one of the instructors was called in and saw Nate leaned over the fellow soldier sewing him up. He had managed to save the young man or at least stabilize him long enough to get medical gel in him. From that day forth Nate was trained to be a medic. Nate is very good at fixing people both mentally and physically. He cares for everyone else in his "family". He tries to act as both a brother and a friend to his entire team. Cybernetic Augmentations: Doc has a Caduceus medical chip inside his brain that shows the status of his entire squad. It can show him their heart beats and other medical facts about them. It helps him figure out the best course of action to help his teammates. Combat Role: Field Medic To clarify this, you need to look at all of Nate. Most troops have medical gel injector which is nice and all but it can only do so much. You need to be able to fix multiple different injuries while in the field. Doc carries a few different gels that seem to have different effects on his siblings. He is trained to be able to both heal and kill. Loadout: -two smoke and two fragmentation grenades - a combat knife -medical gel injector Cadmus 23-beta injector armband. This device is capable of injecting different serums into allies. -Red: Doc calls this one Berserk. For a short period of time, depending on the person, all pain responses to the brain are ignored. The person can withstand more punishment than before and it makes the person even faster and stronger. It wears off quickly though. -Blue: Mellow. This one is useful to slow down the effects of the red gel since it calms the user down. -Green: A stronger version of the standard medical gel. It works faster and is reserved for truly terrible wounds. It has a combat feature where he can activate an electric knife. HF Gruber Submachine gun This gun is designed to be easy to use and light enough so Nate can focus on healing.
23,858	688	0	1,555	729	Bruant ensanglanté de l'ISS Notre groupe se retrouve à la sortie de la porte de Warp Praxis à proximité du centre commercial local connu sous le nom de Harkon Station dans l'espace de la Fédération. La station est abrutie avec de l'activité comme les navires vont et viennent. La majorité des navires qui traversent cette zone d'espace sont des navires de commerce, faisant vivre le transport de marchandises d'un endroit à l'autre. La police de la Fédération navigue paresseusement autour du balayage de l'espace périodiquement pour les contrebandiers et les fauteurs de troubles. Dans l'ensemble, l'espace aérien de Praxis est assez banal et inégal. Le Bruant assourdissant était en route pour transporter du minerai de nickel brut à un acheteur de la station Harkon. Les mains rapides Kyo A bord du moineau sur le pont se trouve un peu ennuyant à regarder Kyo à la barre, fumant occasionnellement une cigarette comme elle tend à des corrections de cap mineures. Je déteste les boulots ennuyeux... elle n'a dit à personne en particulier. C'était des temps comme ceux-là que Kyo était un peu anxieux. Bien qu'ils comprennent parfaitement la nécessité d'effectuer ces manœuvres simples, il était toujours irritant de faire quelque chose de piéton comme le transport de marchandises. Certains jours, elle a vraiment manqué l'excitation d'être un Marine, d'enlever de l'escroquerie de faible vie et de croiser autour de l'inverse. Elle a pensé : Peut-être qu'on peut trouver quelque chose d'excitant à faire ici? Soudain les comms ont pris vie et un homme plutôt moyen est monté sur l'écran. "Il s'agit du contrôle de la circulation de la station Harkon à un navire non identifié. S'il vous plaît déclarez vous-même et votre but ici afin que nous puissions vous diriger en conséquence." La nature répétitive et monotone de son discours a montré clairement qu'il était à son travail depuis longtemps. "ISS Squaring Sparrow demande la permission d'accostage pour l'expédition de marchandises à la gare de Harkon." Kyo a répondu avec un comportement tout aussi monotone. "Soutenu par l'État ou marchand privé?" "Marchand privé." « Veuillez passer à la baie d'amarrage Bravo(B)-14, fréquence d'amarrage 001.25.693. Passez un agréable séjour." Toute l'épreuve était assez banale. Kyo est passé à la fréquence d'accostage et a laissé le système d'accostage automatisé de la station prendre le relais. Dans une minute, ils seraient amarrés à la gare de Harkon, déposer la cargaison, et se diriger vers quelque chose de plus excitant. Elle ne pouvait qu'espérer qu'il y avait une sorte de prime sur un pirate dans le système local, il y en avait d'habitude et le salaire serait bien meilleur que n'importe quelle cargaison qu'ils pouvaient trouver ici.	Quick-Hands Kyo “Death is what happens when you give up.” -Kyo Ueda T H E B A S I C S \|Name\| Kyo Ueda \|Birth Date\| 03.04.2329 \|Age\| 28 \|Species\| Human \|Gender\| Female A P P E A R A N C E \|In Depth Appearance\| Kyo is tough and toned from constant workouts and hard labor. She has jet black hair, smoky grey eyes and almond skin. She's almost always wearing her Federation Marine Corps longcoat with some combination of pants with suspenders, combat boots, tube top or tank top, and some leather fingerless gloves. \|Scars, Tattoos, Piercings\| Her left forearm is covered in an intricate tribal tattoo which she refuses to explain the meaning of. G E T T I N G T O K N O W M E \|Likes & Dislikes\| ✔Men ✔Women ✔Strong Drink ✔Good Food ✘Lazyness ✘Liars \|Habits\| Habitual Smoker (real tobbaco no substitutes) \|Fears\| ☠Dying alone ☠ D E L V I N G D E E P E R \|Personality\| ♦ Clever ♦ Educated ♦ Resourceful ♦ Sarcastic ♦ Kyo is a problem solver, when things need to get done she charges head first into it. She may appear reckless at first glance but that's just her style. Beneath her zeal is a quick-witted intelligent mind and a resourceful individual. Thinking outside the box is the norm here and conventional means are rarely her first choice. \|Place of Origin\| Titan, Sol System, Terran Federation \|History\| Kyo was born on Titan, Saturn's moon. She was orphaned before she can remember and grew up on the streets of the harsh desert towns. Although Titan was Terra-formed early in Terran expansion it never really reached the levels of some of the other colonies. It remains a barely hospitable wasteland where only the mining of precious minerals keeps the industry alive. Kyo found herself working in the mines when she was only 12 years old. On a heavily policed colony like the ones on Mars and Venus child labor was unheard of but on Titan it was a fact of life, either no law men were around to see it or they were quietly enjoying their bribes instead. It took Kyo six years to get out of the mines. She finally escaped by jamming a chisel into the foreman's head, stealing his money, and causing a riot. Using the confusion to get out, she stole a buggy and drove it all the way to the spaceport. she then used her stolen money to buy a fake passport and a ticket to Mars. Soon after her arrival on Mars she was recruited by the Terran Federation Marine Corps (TFMC). She breezed through training, as her rough childhood had prepared her for the worst, and soon she found herself serving with a 'Raider' unit, who specialized in boarding operations. A couple years of service and she was leading a Raider unit of her own. Finally it was time to re-enlist but something made her retire early. Perhaps she had grown tired of the military lifestyle, or having to fight on behalf of rich politicians. Regardless of the reason it was clearly time for a change. She wandered around Terran and Kongi space for a while hopping from different bars until she met a man by the name of Jim Perch. He had just bought his own ship, the Soaring Sparrow, and needed a first mate. For whatever reason, she decided to enlist and has served faithfully as the Captain's right hand ever since. \|Extra\| Stay out of her room unless invited and, most importantly, don't drink her bottle of Rikari Bloodwine.
23,859	688	1	991	1,973	Le labo médical était mort silencieux, l'androïde assis à l'intérieur se concentrait uniquement sur son ordinateur teriminal. La vitesse avec laquelle Andreas lisait à la fois était au-delà de ce que n'importe quel humain pouvait tirer. Il passait par les rapports médicaux de chaque membre d'équipage, il en avait demandé un à chacun d'entre eux lorsqu'il s'est joint à lui, il n'était pas certain de la quantité de rapports ayant des renseignements réels ou de la quantité de documents manquants. Les humains étaient bizarres comme ça parfois, ne voulaient pas que les choses soient connues, même pour les médecins résidents. Le profil le plus intéressant était de l'ingénieur terriblement défiguré, il était remarquable combien le corps humain pouvait résister, aussi combien la science médicale avancée était qu'il a été en mesure de vivre une vie normale après avoir résister à de telles blessures terribles. Dans le passé, un homme comme lui aurait été rejeté par le public, juste par apparence. Andreas ne ferait rien de tel, surveillez de plus près l'homme, médicalement parlant. Une autre des femmes sur le navire a également été défigurée par des brûlures, peut-être qu'elle serait en mesure de partager un sentiment de camaraderie avec l'homme brûlé. L'autre qui a atteint son maximum d'intérêt était l'autre androïde, Cyl, une femelle. Andreas lui avait parlé peu, bien qu'il fût curieux d'elle. Il se demandait à quel point elle était différente de lui, peut-être qu'elle possédait des caractéristiques moins programmées, ou avait même tout abandonné. Quant au sens médical, il serait en mesure de faire très peu si elle était endommagée, il a installé des organiques, pas des compagnons sensibles. Ses connaissances à ce sujet étaient limitées. Il a noté des détails clés de chacun des profils et, à ce titre, a fermé les rapports puis verrouillé le terminal. Andreas ne pensait pas vraiment que quelqu'un d'autre que lui essaierait d'y accéder, mais c'était une habitude qui était programmée en lui. Il n'avait jamais demandé pourquoi une telle chose avait été mise en lui, mais il en a déduit que c'était parce que l'information médicale pouvait être précieuse. Si une personne mal intentionnée devait acquérir de telles informations, alors ils pourraient peut-être les abuser. Avec son attention détournée de l'ordinateur ses yeux erraient à la fenêtre derrière lui, il lui donne une vue de l'extérieur du navire. C'était souvent l'espace extérieur, qui intéressait l'androïde. Il y avait tellement à voir et à apprendre, des millions, des milliards de mondes plus probables chacun avec leurs propres caractéristiques uniques. L'idée d'explorer au moins certains l'a fait sourire, si une telle chose était peut-être vers la fin de sa courte durée de vie. Cette fois, la vue n'était pas seulement l'obscurité de l'espace, c'était plutôt Harkon Station, une plate-forme artificielle, elle lui rappelait une autre sur laquelle il avait vécu il y a peu de temps. Le regard d'Andreas est resté sur la station pendant qu'ils s'approchaient, son esprit se chargeant de souvenirs passés, ne sachant pas ce qu'il était censé ressentir d'eux.	Andreas Galen “Machine mind, human ingenuity.” -Andreas Galen T H E B A S I C S \|Name\| Andreas Galen \|Birth Date\| June 3rd, 2357 \|Age\| Approximately five months old, though appears to be in his late twenties. \|Species\| Humanoid Android \|Gender\| Male A P P E A R A N C E \|In Depth Appearance\| Andreas stands exactly six feet tall, he appears completely human on the outside. His frame is study and masculine, showing no flaws or irregularities. He has dark blonde hair, and keeps a clean shaven appearance. The android has curious brown eyes which often wander as he absorbs the sights around him. His clothing of choice is a dark grey jumpsuit, several pockets on it, on his feet he wears a comfortable pair of black boots. \|Scars, Tattoos, Piercings\| N/A G E T T I N G T O K N O W M E Job Medic \|Likes & Dislikes\| ✔ Learning, any knowledge he can learn. ✔ Music, the type which stirs an emotional response. ✔ Helping people, whether that be through medical aid or other. ✔ Mind sports, chess is a favorite. ✘ Violence and death. ✘ Smoking, drinking and drugs. ✘ Intense arguments and extremely negative emotions. ✘ Abuse of animals. \|Habits\| - Andreas does everything by the book, as he is programmed to. These ways are often the most direct ways. - He is non violent, programmed that way. Andreas has a strict refusal to attack an organic lifeform. If someone gets into a fight with him then he won't fight back. - As an android, he was programmed with a full range of emotions, but he does not understand them. He will often ask peculiar questions about human behaviors in an effort to understand and try to become more human like. \|Fears\| ☠ Failing those he serves as a man of medicine. ☠ His ten year lifespan ending, he cannot comprehend it, as it was programmed when he was created. D E L V I N G D E E P E R \|Personality\| ♦ Emotionally naive ♦ Straightforward ♦ Curious ♦ Good-natured ♦ Andreas is a positive thinking android, ones that genuinely cares about others. He treats everyone positively, even if they are the worst kind of scum. He's naive with his emotions in an innocent way. Whilst fully programmed with them he does not understand them fully, nor others. He understands people medically, but not emotionally. Subjects such as love and war are something he does not get. He's also fully aware of his status as an android, though does not know why some people treat him with prejudice because of it. He's straightforward in his methods and his words, often speaking bluntly with no ill intent. He wasn't programmed to lie, and when asked a question will tell the whole truth. He's an emotional being, able to feel both positive and negative emotions, as well as an almost childlike curiosity and a sense of self preservation. He currently goes by many of his programmed functions, though he is able to learn and change them, this includes his personality and emotions, as he could become more human. \|Place of Origin\| Mars, Sol System, Terran Federation. \|History\| Andreas was created on Mars, in a factory in the largest city on the world. He was an early model of his line of humanoid androids, impossible to tell from humans on the outside. He was named after two legendary medical figures in human history, designed as a doctor and a surgeon, capable of a wide range of functions. A complex mind with encyclopedic knowledge of the medical field able to perform high risk surgeries with machine level precision. He was sold off Mars a few days after creation to an independent buyer. The android was never meant to stay on Mars anyways, he was capable of working on any ship or world. Leaving Mars was a strange experience for Andreas, knowledge on space and all of the known worlds were implanted into him before creation, he just was not sure whether to feel sad about leaving his home, the world he was essentially born on. It would be the first of many questions he would ask himself. Andreas was told he was sold to the Sisters of Merci, he had never heard of them, but had been told they provided medical aid across the galaxy to those that desperately needed it. He greatly agreed with the statement, though he did not care for anything in the group other than providing medical aid. He landed on a colony world that had been ravaged by criminals, crime lords practically ran it, crushing the poor under their feet. His first sight of the world, at the beaten, abused masses that needed help saddened the android, he didn't understand why the poor people were hurt so badly by the criminals who ran the world, why no one stepped in to stop them. He spent several months on the world, administering aid to any and all he could. Andreas did good work, it was what he was programmed to do. Though his life would change after one encounter with a patient, one whose family had been butchered by the mob. A young girl, barely even an adult. Her legs had been broken severely by the mobsters, disfigured the more correct term. He was to remove the limbs and replace them with fully functioning synthetic parts. Andreas was tasked with giving her a medical checkup, though it would be much more than that as the disturbed woman killed herself before the android. He had exited the room for a moment to retrieve medicine, when he returned he found the window open, the woman's corpse in the street below. She had dragged herself out of the bed, to the window and leaped from it, all in the few minutes he had left the room. From his briefings and interactions with the girl he figured out that she had severe mental issues, though he never expected her to end her own life, he never knew why anyone would do that. He was relieved of his job after that, the Sisters of Merci horrified at the sight, many blaming him for it. He was given his freedom, though it was not something he wanted, nor was designed to receive. Unsure of where to go next, Andreas drifed for a short time, this was until he ended serving on a ship for the first time in his life. It was a new experience, but one he was eager for. \|Extra\| N/A
23,860	688	2	484	132	Cestus Cestus s'est réveillé quand le vaisseau a quitté l'hyperespace. Il s'était endormi sur la couverture qu'il gardait dans la soute à cargaison. Encore. Le maître de charge buvait dans l'obscurité de la pièce maintenant pleine et l'utilisait pour effacer ses pensées. Nous sommes à quelques minutes de l'accostage, mieux vaut faire un dernier contrôle, il a pensé comme il s'est lentement incorporé. Comme il l'avait fait tant de fois avant que Cestus n'arrive lentement à l'un des murs voisins et ne tourne sur les lampes en cage afin d'éviter de tourner les feux de cale entiers. Les lampes brillaient de jaune doux, leurs teintes autrefois blanches taillaient de brun par l'âge et leur lumière était faible, n'aidant pas trop la visibilité, mais assez pour qu'il arrive aux panneaux de commande. Le remplacement bionique brillant vert terne dans la demi-lumière de la cale. L'éclairage de l'écran de diverses consoles a jeté des slashes dans l'obscurité, les icônes d'activation sur eux grineux et émeraude. Il travaillait avec une somnolence silencieuse. Il a d'abord consulté un data-slate, en observant les lectures de température de base et l'état général de l'emprise. Puis il se mit à examiner l'inventaire, en s'assurant que tout ce qu'ils avaient supposément chargé était là et qu'ils n'avaient pas de surprises. Parmi les marchandises énumérées sur le connaissement se trouvaient les conteneurs de 20 minerais, entièrement certifiés, transportés aux fins de vente et de distribution à la gare de Harkon. D'autres gravures fines ont révélé que chaque contenant contenait quelques centaines de minerais individuels ou de minerais partiels, sécurisés par des groupes généralement égaux sur des caisses à l'intérieur de chaque contenant. Cestus s'est alors assuré que chaque certificat de conteneur leur avait été collé, et leurs sceaux étaient intacts. Il a sorti sa baguette de balayage, et a clignoté chaque certificat, en veillant à ce que le code corresponde au numéro sur son dossier. Une fois que cela a été fait, le Loadmaster a vérifié les autres stocks divers qu'il avait et resterait à bord. Il s'agissait notamment de fournitures médicales pour l'androïde responsable de ce champ, de pièces de rechange pour les ingénieurs, d'une caisse complète de médicaments appelés Beaumaris, et de toutes les fournitures alimentaires qu'il possédait et pouvait utiliser sur la cuisine. Il l'a fait pour savoir ce qui s'était passé et a dû être acheté quand ils ont accosté. Après avoir énuméré toutes les fournitures nécessaires dans la cuisine, il a envoyé un message au reste de l'équipage lui demandant de lui envoyer ce qu'il fallait acheter sur le budget du navire, puis a procédé à un dernier contrôle avant de fermer les portes comprimées et de partir pour le pont. D'habitude, il savait ce dont tout le monde aurait besoin, mais l'équipage à bord du Bruant a constamment changé et entre la cuisine et le sommeil, il n'avait pratiquement rien parlé aux autres. Peut-être qu'en livrant les fournitures qu'ils demandaient, aurait-il le temps de les présenter? C'était un petit voyage entre les quais et le pont lui donnant à peine le temps d'allumer une cigarette, le faible sifflement de la pression d'évasion a accueilli l'arrivée de Cestus sur le pont alors que le portail automatisé lui permettait d'entrer, avant de glisser fermé dans son sillage. "Sire, la cargaison est prête à aller et à double contrôle," il a annoncé en marchant dedans, puis il a inhalé une grande quantité de fumée avant de continuer. Je demande des fonds pour acheter toutes les fournitures que nous manquons dès que nous sommes au sol et la cargaison livrée,	Caestus/Cestus “Not right now!” -Cestus T H E B A S I C S Full name Hektor Crucius Tal Birth Date 10.12.2324 Age 32 Species Human Gender Male A P P E A R A N C E In Depth Appearance Cestus is of a fair complexion, slightly taller than average, brawny and well built. He has deep green eyes (one is bionic), a chiseled jaw covered by a well groomed beard and wavy medium-length brown hair that he keeps slicked back. His clothing usually consists of the standard security detail uniform but with short sleeves instead of the usual full arm, a flak jacket, elbow protectors, tall military boots, a multi-use belt, and the standard beret. Cestus also wears an advanced eye patch with a broad strap and a lens in deep black over his regular eye. The eye patch has a built in infrascope and range finder while his bionic eye is a replica of the regular one but with augmented senses and a motion tracker. Scars, Tattoos, Piercings Cestus’ torso, arms, and legs are full of scar tissue due to his unfortunate time in the Rikari pits but the only notable one is the Rikari slave branding on his ankle. In his head he has just a small scar behind the bionic eye from the time he lost it. Tattoo wise the human has four, a big trident on his left arm as it is the symbol for his religion, his mother’s name on the collarbone, the symbol of his former association on the hip, and an official imperial liberation statement on top of the brand on the ankle. G E T T I N G T O K N O W M E Job Loadmaster/Security/Cook Likes & Dislikes ✔ Cooking ✔ Women ✔ Credits ✔ Smooth operations ✘ Pits ✘ Hyperspace ✘ Infighting ✘ Complications Habits Cestus is a top of the line procrastinator and heavy smoker with a tendency to double check everything when he actually decides to work. Besides this gambling may be the biggest of his flaws as he has developed the habit of overspending when on the tables which can cause him lots of trouble. Fears ☠ Swimming ☠ Torture D E L V I N G D E E P E R Personality ♦Honest ♦ Lazy ♦ Careful ♦ Flexible ♦ Cestus is typically a laid-back individual, and does not get himself involved in things unless absolutely necessary. When expressing himself he is the realest person one can ever meet, the ex-gladiator dislikes sugarcoating his intentions and gets straight to the point not caring too much if the opinion is offensive or hard. To help overcome any companion’s trouble he would prefer to attempt to use bribery and outright trickery and manipulate them into doing what was best for them instead of the more heartwarming and talkative approach most would approach. He may come off as rude sometimes but his intentions are always the best. Place of Origin Luna History All of Luna’s poor habitants have a reputation for being tough bastards. Indeed, the underworld of the natural satellite is renowned for being one of the most hellish places in the galaxy due to its overpopulation and all too known criminal problems as you either live rich and on the safe part or on the slums where humans have to learn to shoot before they can walk in order to survive. Criminals and bodyguards native to the moon have a well-deserved reputation for being tough, cunning, hard to kill and crafty. Unfortunately backstabbing is also very common in those dark alleys. Hektor was born to a criminal underboss’ family in those slums. For most of his youth he was a renowned muscle, being employed by his family to enforce situations when just a teen and a prodigy on the underground boxing so common in those places. But as most syndicates on those parts his family’s influence and power were all cut and subsequently the members either joined other groups, were killed, escaped, or captured and sold as slaves to the Rikari. Hektor fell into the latter. His reputation as a skilled fighter made the slavers advertise him as a fighter and at the age of only eighteen he had been sold to a very wealthy pit gambler. Before his first fight he chose the Caestus as his weapon and thus he was renamed Cestus for his master’s simplicity. In that fight a confused Cestus managed to win but lost his eye in the process. His master would replace it with a crude bionic and promised to give him a top of the line one if the gladiator managed to survive. It would take him his sanity and seven agonizing years of death and fighting but eventually the human had gained enough prestige to win himself a top of the line eye. He reluctantly continued that way of life as he had nowhere to run or another place to go to for another year. During that year he got badly injured and as he was the master’s favorite and most efficient fighter was given rest on his sons’ personal property. There he met and befriended the master’s two sons and daughter who taught him how to cook with great skill as he became a regular slave for a while. Eventually the daughter would grow an interest on him and start a physical relationship. It looked like he would stay there for a long time but fearing repercussions for herself and ashamed of what she had done the daughter sent Cestus back to the pits but thanks to divine intervention he would be freed before reaching the arena. His master had been arrested for fraud and all of possessions confiscated. As law stated the government couldn’t own slaves they were all officially and legally released. Cestus quickly made his way back to Luna after a year worth of finding his true self due to the traumatizing experience had had lived. Once back on his homeland he would open a restaurant which he named the iron fist but after being caught in debt several times due to him gambling away the lease money he had to sell his equipment and dream and started to work again in the security business, helping caravan traders and the likes handle and transport their goods efficiently and safely without fear of pirates. Currently Cestus offers both services combined as well as the role of loadmaster (In charge of the cargo loading/unloading operations. Also keeps track of the ship's stores) at a decent price for the variability he offers. Extra He uses his combat knife both to cook and fight.
23,861	688	3	369	78	Janet "Bolt" Lynch Le moteur est devenu presque silencieux lorsque le système d'amarrage automatisé s'est engagé et a commencé à manœuvrer très lentement le navire à son endroit désigné. Quelques dernières étincelles ont dansé sur le sol alors que Janet a fini une soudure sur le système de gestion des déchets. C'était surtout un problème cosmétique, mais mieux vaut être sûr que désolé. Surtout si elle a voulu ramper dans le conduit d'entretien déjà serré tout en essayant d'éviter la noyade dans l'urine. Peut-être une inquiétude un peu stupide, mais elle avait déjà entendu des histoires similaires, bien que les sources étaient plus que discutables. Le travail avait été calme, presque ennuyeux. Le moineau montant était fondamentalement un bon navire et en plus de l'entretien habituel il n'y avait pas eu de problèmes majeurs jusqu'à ce point. Janet se demandait, pas pour la première fois, si elle avait oublié de vérifier quelque chose. Le chant calme venant de l'arrière, lui a dit que le moteur principal était toujours en marche, le poids de ses outils contre son corps signifiait que la gravité artificielle fonctionnait correctement et le fait qu'elle n'avait pas étouffé était un signe sûr de soutien de vie était en effet en ligne. Pourtant, elle allait vérifier les systèmes de toute façon, vous n'avez jamais tout à fait su pour sûr dans les voyages spatiaux - une leçon que tout le monde a dû apprendre tôt ou tard. Alors qu'elle rampait vers la salle des machines, Janet descendit mentalement plus loin sur sa liste de contrôle. Elle devrait se coordonner avec le maître de charge pour le ravitaillement plus tard. Merde, elle aurait dû au moins mémoriser son nom, mais elle n'avait pas vraiment eu l'occasion de lui parler encore, ou n'importe quel autre membre de l'équipage, puisqu'elle ne s'était jointe qu'il y a quelques jours. Heureusement, elle savait qu'elle s'était fait un mot quelque part. Quand elle est arrivée à bord, le médecin lui avait demandé quelques détails médicaux, mais elle s'était libérée peu après, juste avant qu'il n'ait pu lui demander quelque chose d'autre. Janet n'était pas vraiment impatiente d'obtenir un examen physique. Le seul membre d'équipage qu'elle avait régulièrement croisé était l'homme brûlé, qui semblait incapable ou peu disposé à parler, mais il ne s'était pas encore mis en travers de son chemin, ce qui était au moins quelque chose. Janet est revenue dans la salle des machines et est allée directement à la console qu'elle avait branchée aux systèmes des navires. Tout était superbe au moment où le navire est arrivé au quai. En regardant ses vêtements sales, elle s'est rendue compte qu'elle ferait mieux de se changer avant de partir explorer la station et pendant qu'elle y était, il y avait une note particulière qu'elle devait trouver.	Janet „Bolt“ Lynch “It's broken, idiot. Let me fix it and get the f*** away from it.” - Janet Lynch T H E B A S I C S \|Name\| Janet Lynch \|Birth Date\| February 7th, 2325 \|Age\| 32 \|Species\| Human \|Gender\| Female A P P E A R A N C E \|In Depth Appearance\| Janet is 5'8ft. (1.73m) tall and has long hair which she keeps colored grey, like her eyes. She's athletically built with particularly strong hands. Her outfit consists usually of a tank top and a utility vest, where she keeps several tools in arms reach, cargo pants, which are equally useful in the tool holding department, military-style safety boots and welding goggles. The clothes, like herself, are often dirty and covered in oil. \|Scars, Tattoos, Piercings\| She has several scars and burn marks on her hands from years of working with heavy machinery. The fingers of her left hand have obviously been broken several times, additionally part of her face was burnt in an accident a few years back. A complex tattoo covers her upper left arm. G E T T I N G T O K N O W M E \|Job\| Engineer/Mechanic \|Likes & Dislikes\| ✔Working, tinkering and maintaining machinery ✔Weapons, unless pointed her way. ✔Space, the vast emptiness comforts her. ✔Authority, likes people who can take charge of a situation. ✔Expertise, when someone knows what he/she is doing. ✘Children, don't know what they are doing. ✘Politics, basically adult children arguing. ✘Laziness, doesn't get the job done. ✘Cucumber, who likes it anyway. \|Habits\| Ever since she left the military Janet has made a habit of keeping up a similar lifestyle to the one, she was following during her service. When she is not checking the systems or doing any essential work, she will maintain her equipment, tinker or work out to keep up her physical performance. In her years aboard numerous vessels, traveling across the galaxy, she picked up a rather foul manner of speaking, which she tries to keep down. It shows, however, anytime she's in a state of emotional distress, especially when annoyed or angered. \|Fears\| ☠Water, technically she fears the drowning aspect. ☠Captivity, literally and figuratively. D E L V I N G D E E P E R \|Personality\| ♦ Disciplined ♦ Reliable ♦ Vulgar ♦ Workaholic ♦ Janet identifies strongly with her work, since she has a passion for any kind of machinery, particularly space ships and weapons, to the point at which she often spends her free time tinkering and taking care of equipment. She tries to always perform at her best and follows given orders to the point, since Janet values the advantages of a solid order of command and especially a competent commander. She is however not a people pleaser and dislikes it when others "suck up" to their superiors. Janet may seem somewhat distant, due to her being taken up by her work quite a lot, but she does enjoy the company of others, as long as they don't stay between her and a malfunctioning engine. She likes, or at least approves of, people who manage to do their own job properly, and highly regards those who excel in their field of expertise, as long as she believes this expertise are of some value, unlike politics. \|Place of Origin\| Earth \|History\| Janet grew up in a middle-class family, her mother was a teacher and her father owned a small workshop, inside which she discovered her interest for moving metal at an early age and spent her youth taking apart and repairing all sort of machines and devices. She spent long nights tinkering and building improvised devices out of spare parts from her father's workshop and the nearby scrap yard. When she was 14, an uncle took her with him on a trip to all the big terran colonies. The experience of space travel lead her to pursue a career, which would allow her to spend her lifetime aboard massive ships, traveling the galaxy. When she was old enough, Janet signed up for five years of service in the terran military forces, as a combat engineer. Her training mostly consisted of learning how to repair, maintain and setup military equipment and vehicles, often under battle conditions. She also learned how to use a variety of weaponry, although she never excelled at using them, she nonetheless finds pleasure in working on them to this day, especially explosives. After her training she was sent on several missions on board a variety of ships. One such mission almost ended by her drowning in an ocean, after the ship she was on was shot down by pirates while in atmosphere, ever since this day she has, to her own shame, developed a fear of water. After these five years of service Janet wanted to find new challenges and worked on several civilian ships, ranging from transporters to scientific research vessels, always ready to jump aboard a new ship - a new challenge. Which lead her to her most recent job on board of a small space ship, named after a certain animal.
23,862	688	4	2,441	646	Collabération entre comme Jim Perch et comme Cyl Kitt Jim Perch est sorti de la douche, les rivulets sont tombés dans son dos. Le froid de l'espace s'est infiltré dans les murs et l'isolation, le forçant à trembler comme un navire brisé. Il s'est essuyé et a soudé ses cheveux jusqu'à ce que la sensation rampante de vol automatisé chatouillât son attention; ils s'amarraient à Harkon. Cela avait été un long voyage, et plus d'une fois il avait presque labouré le bateau dans une étoile par pure frustration, mais ici ils devaient déposer du nickel pour une pittance nue. Comme c'est joyeux. Merlin était vêtu de sa tenue habituelle après avoir vu le tatouage naval, une chemise blanche, sa veste et ses bottes : le couteau était serré sous le collier de ces bottes et le pistolet était assis dans un étui à épaule sur son dos, caché de vue. Il est sorti de sa cabine et a tourné à droite et a rapidement été à la porte du poste de pilotage. Si près, en fait, que la fumée de cigarette de Kyo infectait sa chambre. « Sortez ce bâton de mort de mon cockpit », a-t-il dit, se promenant dans la cabine. Kyo a été éparpillé à sa carte de vol, la machine portative de cancer envahissant l'odeur s'accrochant toujours si doucement de deux doigts. La fumée est montée jusqu'au plafond, puis a été balayée par la climatisation pour être nettoyée par les épurateurs. Kyo a atteint le système d'interphone et a déplacé le levier de 'Off' à 'Ship'. Entre ces options, chaque pièce était individuelle, dans le cas d'un membre d'équipage paresseux qui avait besoin d'un réveil rapide. "Mesdames et messieurs, nous sommes arrivés. L'amarrage va -" le navire a froissé légèrement à partir de l'écluse d'air "- commencer tout de suite. Si vous pouviez faire votre chemin vers le sas pour la dépressurisation, avec vos com-nets déjà attachés, ce serait superbe. Vous êtes libres d'explorer Harkon jusqu'à ce que j'aie besoin de vous. La paye des derniers mois devrait être dans vos comptes bancaires. Profitez de vos vacances », a-t-il dit, en faisant glisser le levier vers 'Off'. Cestus est entré dans le cockpit. Une brute d'homme, avec des muscles qui ferait que n'importe quel homme veut admirer. Il était cependant évident qu'il était prudent de son corps, ce qui était très remarquable car il a toujours fait les meilleurs efforts pour cacher la terrible cicatrice qui a traversé son corps comme les rues de la ville. Tous les membres de l'équipage de Jim avaient des cicatrices : s'ils étaient physiques, mentaux ou du cœur et de l'âme, une cicatrice serait toujours traitée avec soin sur le Bruant. Jim avait ses propres blessures qu'il négligeait de partager avec l'équipage, des choses qui ne les intéressaient pas. Mais les autres avaient les leurs, et bien sûr ils ne lui disent peut-être pas tout, c'était précisément 5% de ses affaires après tout, mais il a demandé de savoir quel était le danger de les amener à bord. S'ils avaient un léger dédain pour un légume, alors bon, il pensait qu'il pouvait les laisser passer. S'ils avaient récemment assassiné le gouverneur Terran cependant, ce serait un membre d'équipage qu'il pourrait heureusement contourner. Dans le cas de Cestus, il avait dit qu'il était dans les fosses de Rikari et c'était tout ce dont il avait besoin. En tout cas, Jim était heureux de l'avoir. Il était fort comme un gluon, et un putain de bon chef. « Je préfère Mon Seigneur, et Mon Seigneur en a marre de ces cigarettes rugissantes », dit Merlin. Il arracha la cigarette de la mitaine de Cestus, sourit sarcastiquement à l'homme, puis roula l'extrémité de la pédé avec ses doigts mouillés. "Quand tu descends de mon vaisseau, tu peux te tuer autant que tu veux, j'en ai marre de goûter comme des cendres." Jim a sorti son portefeuille et a remis Cestus 3000 crédits. "Si vous avez besoin de plus de me faire sur le com-net. Apporte-moi une bouteille de ce whisky de Kongi, le doux. Je vais vérifier si les autres veulent quelque chose, je vais aller vérifier la cargaison." Merlin a quitté le poste de pilotage et s'est dirigé vers la soute où il a inspecté les caisses bondées, en s'assurant qu'elles étaient bien scellées. Il a vérifié la liste des données, confirmant les ordres avec ce qui était sur le navire. Tout allait bien. Il a balayé son doigt sur la surface de la data-slate pour la signer, et mettre la tablette sur le bureau dans le coin. Alors qu'il s'avançait, Jim regarda à gauche et vit à nouveau la couverture sur le sol. Pas même pour la quatrième ou la cinquième fois, mais ça valait plus de quatre mains, c'était tout ce qu'il savait. Mais Cestus a bien fait son boulot, alors qu'est-ce qu'il a pu lui crier dessus? Ne pas faire le travail de quelqu'un d'autre aussi? Jim s'est transformé et est entré dans le couloir. Le Bruant assourdissant était un navire de taille raisonnable. Plus grand que le petit bateau typique, mais plus que suffisant pour les sept d'entre eux ici. Il n'avait qu'un seul niveau, mais la cale à cargaison était plus submergée de sorte qu'elle avait un volume plus important dans le malheureux incident d'une fuite de gaz toxique. Mais c'était à la maison, et donc c'était propre. Les murs étaient un gris très léger, avant le point de flippant et toujours dans le domaine de l'éclaircissement. Les planchers n'étaient pas râpés puisqu'il a fait remplacer ces émissions d'horreur il y a des années quand il les a achetées pour la première fois. Il s'agissait d'un sentier fluvial, lisse, éclaboussé, et de lumières lumineuses le long des murs pour éclairer. Tous les systèmes de climatisation étaient bien entretenus, et les murs ont été nettoyés fréquemment et re-enduits lorsqu'ils sont devenus particulièrement défoncés. Le cockpit était sombre pour qu'ils puissent voir plus clairement dans le vide, les seules lumières étant des cadrans et des écrans. Chacune des chambres était équipée d'un lit, de toilettes, d'une douche d'angle et d'une fenêtre pour voir le vide. La salle à manger était la meilleure pièce du vaisseau. Une grande table en chêne a été creusée majestueusement au centre, tandis qu'une cuisine semi-ouverte était à proximité. Les sols étaient un substitut du bois, qui regardait, sentait et sentait comme du vrai bois, mais c'était une autre recette fine Terran, créée à l'origine lorsque les Kongi ont été découverts pour la première fois sur leurs nombreuses planètes couvertes d'arbres. Le bois de remplacement a été utilisé pour créer une authentique camoflauge pour les soldats, les bunkers, les armes, au cas où les deux empires allaient à la guerre. Ils ne l'ont jamais fait, heureusement. Mais il a fait un très bon choix de design d'intérieur. Alors que Jim sortait de la soute, il tourna à droite pour marcher jusqu'à la salle des machines où il entendait les bruits de soudure et de grognement. Il a glissé la porte en arrière pour révéler des outils jetés de façon hasardeuse sur le sol et un corps escarpé sur le sol essayant de réparer quelque chose. Jim n'avait jamais eu trop d'esprit profond au-delà de ce qu'il devait savoir, et même cela était surtout passé maintenant avec l'embauche d'un ingénieur. « Cet endroit avait l'air plus propre quand tout était cassé », a commenté Merlin à l'ingénieur. "Je sais que je ne vous ai pas vraiment vu depuis que vous êtes à bord, excuses pour cela. Ça a été une sorte de voyage, je vais vous le dire. Qu'est-ce qui vous plaît ici? Tout va bien? Des problèmes? Si c'est le cas, c'est un petit vaisseau pour que tu puisses me trouver quelque part ici, ou juste crier. Et nous allons bientôt sur Harkon, alors voulez-vous quelque chose pour vous? Notre maître de charge, Certus, ramassait des fournitures et se demandait." L'ingénieur et le capitaine ont parlé un moment avant qu'il parte et se dirige vers le laboratoire médical d'à côté. "Andreas, mon homme. Comment allez-vous? Personne n'est encore mort?" Jim a demandé. "Certus va chercher des provisions pendant qu'on galavane. Avez-vous besoin de quelque chose?" Andreas a répondu et ils se sont séparés, Jim sur le prochain membre de l'équipage. Cyl Kitt était dans sa cabine, avec ce qui ressemblait à un tas d'électronique. Dieu sait qu'un chargement de ceux-ci ont probablement été pris des composants propres du navire. Jim espérait seulement que ce n'était rien d'important sinon l'hyperespace pourrait devenir un voyage très intéressant. "Cyl, comment allez-vous? Qu'est-ce que tu as déchiré cette fois?" Il a demandé à l'androïde. Elle est restée avec un tas de fils, assis croisés comme elle l'a fait. "Je n'ai rien "tordu à part". Elles ont été extraites du navire », répond-elle. -- Et, à votre première question, je vais bien. Jim a hurlé. "Je suis très heureux de l'entendre. Puis-je vous demander pourquoi vous avez extrait des composants potentiellement vitaux? Est-ce que vous construisez quelque chose de cool?" En fait, il espérait qu'elle l'était, elle était très douée pour construire des trucs cools. "Quand ce sera fait, ce ne sera pas 'cool'. Il fera très chaud. Je projette de voir à quel point le réacteur fonctionne bien lorsqu'il est touché par une impulsion électromagnétique." Cyl dit, brancher plus de fils. Jim la regarde un moment. "Oh, ok, non," dit-il. Il s'approche et saisit les fils et les range à l'arrière de son pantalon. "Ça n'arrive pas. Allez Cyl, nous allons faire une promenade », a-t-il dit. "B-Mais, vous avez dit que je pouvais expérimenter sur ce que je voulais," Cyl, dit, en essayant de reprendre les fils avant qu'ils ne entrent dans son pantalon. Juste au cas où, Cyl a pris les autres composants et les a jetés dans son uniforme. "Pourquoi faut-il que nous marchions? J'essayais de renforcer les défenses du navire." Elle dit, debout. "Pouvez-vous me rappeler si je n'ai mentionné rien qui puisse tuer, mutiler ou endommager le navire? Si je ne l'ai pas fait, je le déclarerai. Il l'a regardée mettre les fils dans ses propres vêtements. « C'est un vrai Cyl mature, un vrai Cyl mature », a-t-il dit. Jim est sorti de la pièce et est retourné à la salle des machines. Il ouvrit la porte et jeta les fils de l'arrière de son pantalon sur le sol. "Je n'ai aucune idée d'où ils viennent. Aucune idée. Si tu peux comprendre que tes verres sont sur moi. Après tout, nous mourrons peut-être », a fait remarquer Jim à l'ingénieur. Comment s'appelait-elle déjà? « Les composants récupérés pour l'appareil électromagnétique Pulse avaient été récupérés de... Oh, je crois que j'ai oublié », dit Cyl, comme pour le frotter. "Vous voyez? Nous sommes déjà morts », a-t-il dit. Jim s'approcha et arracha les fils de la poche de Cyl et les jeta à l'ingénieur. "Désolé, nous ne faisons pas trop de temps." Jim a filé et a regardé Cyl. "D'accord, il ne reste que quelques choses à faire." Jim descendit le hall devant la chambre de Cyl jusqu'à la cabine voisine, et l'androïde suivit derrière. Il a regardé à l'intérieur et a vu Glargh. "Hey Glargh, Cestus va chercher des provisions et demande si quelqu'un veut quelque chose. Qu'est-ce que tu veux?" Jim a demandé. Glargh était une personne pour laquelle il était vraiment désolé. Il n'avait pas vraiment pu communiquer avec le type brûlé, mais il semblait être un homme sincère, alors Jim n'a pas hésité à le faire monter à bord. Il travaillait bien et n'avait provoqué aucun combat, donc Jim était heureux de l'accueillir au moineau, apparemment une maison pour quelque chose de cassé, plié ou bouclé. Il a parlé un peu plus longtemps à l'homme avant de partir et de retourner dans le cockpit et a vomi ce que les autres membres avaient demandé. "Et toi, Cyl? Avez-vous besoin d'approvisionnements sûrs à transporter à bord pour le navire et ses membres d'équipage? » Jim a demandé à l'androïde à ses côtés. Les yeux de Cyl semblaient s'illuminer quand on lui a demandé si elle avait besoin de fournitures. Malheureusement, Jim s'était assuré d'inclure le fait qu'ils devaient être en sécurité pour le navire et ce sont les membres de l'équipage, mais cela ne l'a réduit que d'une fraction. Elle a commencé à lire une liste mentalement préparée. -- Oui, capitaine. J'ai besoin d'un introspectromètre de masse, d'un cheval de fer stahiman, de vingt-trois barils de liquide de refroidissement du réacteur, de deux barils de cellules porat ionisées... » Cyl a continué à lire une liste dans sa tête qui semblait ne jamais finir. Jim regarda Cestus et Kyo, incrédulement. "Je suppose que ceux-ci sont en sécurité puisque vous êtes qui vous êtes, mais vous n'obtiendrez rien de tout cela. C'est comme acheter de l'eau de Javel et de l'ammoniac; ils sont sûrs séparément mais ensemble, pas tellement. Je voulais dire quelque chose comme, je ne sais pas, un livre, un peu d'alcool, une pomme. Androids sont si... intéressants parfois, ", dit-il. Jim soupirait lourdement. "Livre, alcool et pomme? Produits biologiques? Eh bien, il y a des produits biologiques dont j'ai besoin..." Jim avait l'air curieux. "J'écoute. Est-ce que je regrette d'avoir écouté?" lui a - t - il demandé. Un moment plus tard, une autre liste a commencé par la bouche de Cyl. "Un ver aux gencives du monde Eernata, trois fruits de la main, un tonneau de neuf cents raisins de bunebub, une paire de baleines Itanar..." Une fois de plus, elle ne s'arrêta pas. -- Je devais demander, murmura Jim. "Vouliez-vous venir avec nous, Kyo? Pour chercher un autre emploi?Vous avez tout ce dont vous avez besoin de Cestus?" Il a demandé à son premier ami et au Loadmaster. "Retrouvons tout le monde dans le sas", a-t-il dit. Jim a déménagé dans le sas, Cyl suivant et continuant d'énumérer les produits dont elle avait besoin, tous biologiques, et a rencontré les cinq autres membres de l'équipage, prêts à partir. Il a appuyé sur le bouton et une vague d'air étouffé a dépassé l'équipage. "Comment est-ce que l'air recyclé est meilleur que cet air?" Jim a bourdonné. L'équipage s'est séparé et Jim et l'andriod sont partis à gauche. Le minerai de nickel était déjà sur une palette flottante dont Jim a pris possession et a commencé à pousser le long du bord de la station. -- Avez-vous pris tout cela, capitaine? Cyl demande, alors qu'elle marche à côté de lui. Son côté humain et mignon a décidé de marcher un peu plus vite et de s'asseoir sur la palette que Jim a poussée. "Bien sûr que j'ai tout ça. Cestus va voir ce qu'il peut faire sur le marché," Jim fibbed. Un petit mensonge blanc. Il ne voulait pas la refuser, il appréciait sa gaieté raisonnable à bord du bateau, mais ce qu'elle voulait était dangereux. Alors il a dit un mensonge blanc. Il a poussé le chariot un peu plus jusqu'à ce qu'il puisse voir le gros, squat homme l'attendant sur le banc du parc. "Question rapide Cyl, combien pensez-vous que tout ce minerai de nickel vaut la peine?" "Vraiment, beaucoup. Sinon, je ne sais pas, répond Cyl. Elle se repose dans la pile de nickel, bâillant fort. « Je n'ai pas dormi », dit-elle, malgré le fait qu'elle n'avait pas besoin de dormir. Mais c'était humain d'essayer de dormir, et parfois elle s'est mise au repos pendant un moment dans un lit, ou parfois sur le sol jusqu'à ce que quelqu'un la trouve et la déplace. -- Merci, officier scientifique, répondit-il sarcastiquement. "Pourquoi, nuit difficile? De mauvais rêves?" Il l'a demandé au hasard. Il ne pouvait pas dire si elle le mettait, le côté humain d'elle, ou s'il y avait vraiment un code en elle qui lui faisait dire des choses humainement jarringly. La charrette s'est arrêtée juste avant le gros. "J'ai quelques conditions avant tout. Un, si vous le faites, je trouverai un nouvel acheteur. Deux, dites à vos hommes de se lever. Il n'y a pas de transactions douteuses aujourd'hui. Trois, j'emmène pas moins de 4000Cr avec moi. Plus c'est grand, moins c'est pas de marché », a déclaré Jim. Il regarda l'homme, tandis que ses yeux glissa des yeux de Jim jusqu'à la jeune blonde mignonne qui s'étendait sur les caisses. « Et elle ne fait pas partie du marché », a dit Jim. "Monsieur, j'ai regardé la quantité de minerai. Le poids du minerai indique, moins le poids des caisses, qu'elles valent 3998 point 36 Crédits », dit-elle, sa tête s'est inclinée en arrière pour regarder Jim. Elle l'a ensuite incliné vers l'avant pour regarder l'homme devant elle, avant de s'asseoir droit, restant sur la palette, cependant. Jim s'est moqué et a regardé l'homme. "Et bien, nous y allons, directement à partir de la calculatrice de marche. 4000 et nous pouvons y aller », a dit Jim. L'homme était encore à Cyl, ce qui rendait Jim mal à l'aise. Il a glissé une main sous son bras et l'a déplacée de la caisse, la promenant derrière lui. "4000, prenez-le ou laissez-le." Le vieil homme remit son regard à Jim. "Combien vaut-elle?" il a demandé, drool presque visible sur son menton. "Elle n'est pas à vendre, elle a sa liberté. Ce nickel, d'un autre côté... » Jim a essayé de déplacer la conversation. "Une heure avec elle, tu peux garder tes restes, et je paierai 5000Cr." "Vous pouvez le faire", murmure-t-elle. "Je m'enfuirai après." 3500 crédits. L'offre finale," Jim a dit. Il tenait l'androïde derrière son corps, essayant de la protéger du regard pervers. "6000 Credits et elle pendant 30 minutes," il s'en est pris à lui. "Je pense que c'est fini." Jim a tiré la palette en arrière, en gardant un œil percé sur le gros homme. "Attendez!" Il a crié à la paire. "Vous aurez 2250 pour les caisses et je ne ravage pas votre femme." "Deal", a dit Jim groudgingly. Le gros a jeté un joli sac léger sur eux, tandis que Jim a poussé la palette à glisser vers lui. « Un plaisir, dit-il, de se prosterner à Cyl. « Tourne-toi et marche, Cyl, » dit Jim sous son souffle. Il a regardé les bâtiments environnants pour trouver quelque chose de suspect. Il n'était pas clair pour Jim si Cyl avait remarqué ce qu'il avait murmuré, mais elle a commencé à marcher jusqu'à l'homme. Pour elle, l'homme n'avait pas dit qu'il ne l'aurait pas, juste qu'elle ne serait pas touchée. L'accord avait été fait, il ne pouvait pas volontairement la laisser aller avec cette obscénité d'un homme. Elle était hors de portée, parce qu'il ne savait pas qu'elle avait déménagé. "Cyl, c'est votre capitaine. Écoutez-moi très attentivement. Arrête de marcher tout de suite, tourne-toi et retourne dans cette direction. Ne regarde pas cet homme que je viens de traiter, mais marche droit vers moi. Nous allons partir avec cet argent et nous allons rencontrer le reste de l'équipage. Comprenez-vous, Cyl?" Jim a demandé, sa voix sterne mais cristalline. -- Mais vous m'avez vendu à cet homme, répondit Cyl, en arrêtant. "L'homme m'a demandé trente minutes, et m'a fait promettre qu'il ne me ferait pas de ravage." Le gros homme avait l'air très satisfait de lui-même alors qu'il faisait signe à Cyl de ses mains. Jim avait trois options : laisser Cyl aller avec ce crapaud; l'attraper et courir, où ils peuvent être chassés; ou le tuer. Les hommes du gros homme s'étaient retirés parce qu'il ne les voyait pas regarder d'un point de vue quelconque. Jim n'avait tué que quelques hommes dans ce genre de situation auparavant, mais en ce moment il se sentait très justifié. Sa main droite a glissé sous le cuir et a saisi l'étui. Le gros homme s'est rendu compte de ce qui se passait, tout comme Cyl. Elle a crié et est tombée par terre, tenant ses mains sur sa tête. Jim l'a sorti rapidement d'une main et s'est avancé, tirant d'une rondelle. Il a plié le mur par le bras de l'homme gras et a douché les chaussures de l'homme dans des étincelles. Une autre ronde sortit du barillet et frappa la masse centrale, en envoyant la vulgarité à ses genoux. Un troisième tour a trouvé l'épaule de l'homme, l'os scintillant. Les gens ont commencé à regarder autour des coins. La quatrième et dernière ronde tourna vers la gorge de l'homme et perfora sa trachée, permettant au pervers d'étouffer et de se noyer dans son propre sang. Jim s'est penché et a attrapé Cyl, qui pleurait des larmes de peur, l'obligeant à fuir comme ils sont venus et le long de l'autre côté de la station au bar où il a normalement rencontré l'équipage, The Spinning Schooner. Il l'a poussée à l'intérieur et les a forcés à passer dans une cabine d'angle, où Jim a commandé deux pintes de bière locale, parlant dans le com-net de la situation dans laquelle il venait de jeter tout le monde. "Il y a eu un incident. Surveillez-vous jusqu'à ce que vous arriviez au bar », a-t-il dit à l'équipage. Cyl pleura tout le temps, tremblant dans la peur absolue de ce qui s'était passé. "Oh mon dieu, oh mon dieu," elle a sangloté. "C'est bien Cyl. Certaines personnes méritent d'arrêter d'être ici. Il ne méritait plus d'être ici », a dit Jim. Il s'élançait fortement de la course, et prit une grosse et profonde gorgée du verre. La mousse reposait sur sa lèvre supérieure comme la moustache d'un pauvre homme. La seule réaction de Cyl a été de placer sa tête sur son épaule et de crier ses larmes humaines. Jim a posé sa main sur sa main et a caressé ses longs cheveux blonds, doucement et en douceur, dans l'espoir de calmer la fille vers le bas. Elle renifle, tremble doucement.	Jim 'Merlin' Perch “Today's a fine day to not die.” -Merlin T H E B A S I C S \|Name\| Jameson Perch \|Birth Date\| 1.8.2328 \|Age\| 29 \|Species\| Terran \|Gender\| Male A P P E A R A N C E \|In Depth Appearance\| Jim is above average height, peering out at 5'11". His thick, wavy, hazel hair doesn't grow down to meet his shoulders, but instead climbs upwards like a skyscraper under construction, with the mane only becoming wavier and frizzier with the taller heights it achieves, therefore he keeps it short and combs it to the right with the front flicked backwards to keep it under control. His steely blue eyes are an immediate indicator for the stranger about the man that they are about to meet. Bushy eyebrows rest like an umbrella over the grim eyes. Unkempt stubble adorns the jawline of Merlin, while his prominent cheekbones seem to sink his eyeballs. Jim weighs approximately 145lbs and although he is not in warrior condition, he is in reasonably good shape, the shades of muscle definition can be found under inspection. His left arm from the elbow down is synthetic due to a combat scenario with some Rikari pirates when his fighter was hit. The port side of the spacecraft buckled and crumbled his bones and tendons, so the military surgeons decided high-end cybernetics were the route to go as Merlin was currently on route for an extremely decorated career in the Navy. \|Scars, Tattoos, Piercings\| Jim has a tattoo on his right bicep of the naval fleet badge he was in back on Earth. He typically has it bandaged up with gauze to hide his previous affiliations. He also has a scar from a maintenance accident above his left hip bone when a sheet of metal under large pressures buckled and pierced him. G E T T I N G T O K N O W M E \|Job\| Captain of the Soaring Sparrow. \|Likes & Dislikes\| ✔ Space: there really is no place like home ✔ Explosions ✔ Crew meal times ✔ Classic loves stories, real or not ✘ Swearing ✘ Price hagglers ✘ People who talk through movies ✘ When people invade his cockpit \|Habits\| 1. Flying the Sparrow by hand, both in empty space and in chaotic situations, and both typically situations that the computers are more than capable of handling themselves. 2. The look-and-say sequence. Merlin has achieved nearly 40 Mb of data for the puzzle since he started over 10 years ago. 3. Sniffing his fingers. Anything he's touched and if the scent may still be on his finger tips, he will smell them. \|Fears\| ☠ Being alone in the vast emptiness (known as Pioneer's Hysteria in the trade markets), which is why meal times are so appreciated, and why space has the greatest respect of anything he has witnessed. ☠ Slugs, they have no purpose, are unbelievably ugly, and feel disgusting. For this reason there is no job in the universe that could make him go to Taroon. Ever. D E L V I N G D E E P E R \|Personality\| ♦ Serious ♦ Dry ♦ Dependable ♦ Loyal ♦ Jim is, primarily, a captain. And with that he bears the responsibility of his crew. They are his and he is theirs. Therefore his life is the job until their fate is not within his hands. He may joke around occasionally (occasionally), but he is always concerned for his crew. This mentality has stopped him from having any real friends or relationships as the further it develops, the more he feels responsible for keeping it afloat. On the flip side of this though, it is difficult to find a more loyal man. Merlin will stick by you when you need it and is not afraid to fire off a few rounds to keep the vultures at bay if it means the coyotes come out to play. His experience across the systems means that he is wise and dependable, aware of many things that would be pitfalls to the average captain, and uses this knowledge to ensure safety. Typically quite a cold and distant person when you first meet him, he may warm up to you eventually. The eyes show the meaning of him, and that is 'business first, everything else later'. Always ready for a fight, but never looking for one. \|Place of Origin\| An American colony on a space habitat orbiting Jupiter. \|History\| When Jim was born, his father said that he cried for a minute or two then stopped and just watched everyone. Observed them, as if he were taking mental notes on the entire room. His father had always said that Jim would grow up to be very aware and very wise, and his dad was right. Born from a zero-gravity welder and a cleaner, Jim was raised comfortably but didn't have many luxurious, but enough food to keep him fed and enough clothes to keep him warm. For that he has always been grateful and used to give his parents portions of his wages as a child with a weekend job. When he was 18, Jim enrolled in the Terran Federation Naval Academy, or TFNA for short. There he excelled and was fast-tracked to Year Two. His abilities with a ship were unmatched and his leadership and mission skills thrusted him forward. During simulation runs with the other recruits, many of them would scramble to be under his command, easy points in the Year Tournaments, while others banded together to bring down the beloved Jameson. It was in the Academy that Jim earned his nickname, Merlin. Merlin had two meanings: one, it was the name of a specific falcon, the Merlin Falcon, which was famed for its speed and agility, much like Jim's boatsman displays many pointed out; and two, he was magic in a ship. It wasn't until he lost his arm that things started to go downhill. After a standard maintenance of the baradium chassis on his boat went wrong and rutted Merlin in the gut, he was fixed up and a week later was sent out in the same ship as a live exercise. The Rikari pirates were average pilots at best, but there were thirty of them against four naval cadets. By the time Jim was hit, the remaining three ships were heaving and spluttering, barely holding together. Bad intel had nearly cost them their lives as HQ had reported ten combatants. That was when a missile punched the side of the boat. The weak SBM1 missiles shouldn't have done anything to the side of the ship, it was a baradium chassis - the toughest material ever devised by the Terran Federation and a recipe the Kongi were desperate to get their hands on - with a baradium-diamond coating, lightweight and extremely tough. But the missile broke through and buckled the port-side wall, slamming the chassis against Jim's body. He pressed the missile button with his remaining hand and ordered a retreat from the battle before anyone else was seriously damaged as HQ were still deciding. After the first two ships had been hit, two of the pilots had requested a retreat but the had declined. After the third, another request was sent, even more urgently. Sick of the inaction by top-brass, Jim removed the squadron from the skirmish before he lost a friend or three. While knocked out from the medication, the doctors realised his entire forearm bone had been ground to dust by the impact. They amputated and when he woke up, Merlin discovered he was now missing a piece of his body. It was later discovered in an investigation that the chassis was poorly built, and the pressure on the left side of the frame kept causing the bars to buckle, allowing the missile to punch through. The final nail in the coffin for Jim's naval career was the death of his father. Throughout the years, Jim had been very close with has father, a man he respected and trusted very much. His mother had become loose and an addict, and his parents had drifted but never father and son. So when his graduation date was confirmed, Jim informed his father who took time off work to come and see the ceremony. On the trip to Earth from Jupiter, pirates attacked the ship and killed his father. Jim found out during the ceremony, at which point he realised that if the Terran Federation couldn't protect one of their own, never mind a civil servants family, how could he really give the rest of his life to this job? Jim walked off the stage and never looked back, wanted for arrest for desertion by the Terran Navy. He bought a ship and named it the Soaring Sparrow after the joke his father used to say about how he fly when he was a child in the trainee ships, quickly and abruptly, but he always knew what he was doing. Jim was his fathers own little Soaring Sparrow, and he never wanted to forget that. \|Extra\| Always carries a handgun, tucked away out of sight, as well as a knife.
23,863	688	5	2,423	190	Glargh était assis seul dans ses quartiers, priant tranquillement à une croix qu'il gardait accrochée au-dessus de son lit. Être à genoux pour prier a fait ses deux jambes blessées comme fou, mais il a trouvé le confort qu'il a acheté son esprit en vaut la peine. Quand il priait, c'était comme si le brouillard autour de son esprit était levé et qu'il pouvait penser clairement. Et la prière a été la seule fois qu'il a trouvé la clarté, conduisant à Glargh rongeant les détails techniques, les composants et les détails généraux de son jour au grand homme lui-même, malgré sa croyance douteuse qu'il existait réellement. La porte s'ouvre et le capitaine entre, suivi d'un androïde. Les yeux de Glargh se sont élargis à la vue de l'androïde, ce qui l'a immédiatement amené à fouiller à travers divers papiers sur son bureau, frappant divers documents de design et magazines poussiéreux au sol. Il a saisi fermement un tas de notes et s'est accroché à la paire. "Hey Glargh, Cestus va chercher des provisions et demande si quelqu'un veut quelque chose. Qu'est-ce que tu veux?" Le capitaine a demandé. Glargh a hurlé et souri, provoquant de petits flocons de peau verte à craquer et tomber du coin de sa bouche. Il a remis un petit bout de papier au capitaine. Sur elle se lisait comme suit: "Liste d'achats personnels de Glargh -Dernier numéro de Galactic Geographic -Pensées -Péchoirs -Noteurs x3 - Nouvelles feuilles de lit" La remise de la liste a poussé Glargh à regarder son matelas. Le carburant latent qui avait persisté dans sa peau avait lentement détérioré ses feuilles actuelles, les tournant à un peu plus que de la ferraille. Il est passé à l'androïde et lui a passé avec enthousiasme un morceau de papier. Sur il a été griffonné différents diagrammes différents du moteur et un titre, "peut améliorer, besoin de pièces." Au bas de la page Glargh avait écrit une longue liste de noms techniques, de composants et d'outils dont il aurait besoin pour apporter des améliorations au moteur. -- Autre chose? Le capitaine a demandé. "Glargh," dit Glargh, secouant la tête. Une fois l'androïde et le capitaine partis, Glargh a glissé tranquillement de son quartier, maintenant portant sa ceinture utilitaire fiable, et s'est jeté dans la chambre du médecin. Il a glissé un petit mot sous la porte, puis s'est éloigné. Il a fait la même chose avec la chambre de Kyo. Alors qu'il traîné son corps jusqu'au sas, la peau sur ses jambes s'est ouverte pour ce qui devait être la troisième fois ce jour-là. Des gouttelettes de sang sont tombées sur le sol derrière lui, laissant un petit sentier jusqu'à la pièce où les autres membres de l'équipage ont été assemblés. - Oui. Au moment où Glargh sortit du navire et monta sur la station, son nez fut attaqué par l'odeur du carburant du navire. Cette odeur était la raison pour laquelle il détestait tant les baies d'amarrage, et les souvenirs qu'elle a achetés avec elle ont fait pénétrer Glargh dans un sprint, ne faisant que les gazhes réouvertes sur ses jambes pour ouvrir plus large, versant de plus en plus de sang sur le sol. - Oui. C'était calme dans la chapelle. Glargh était assis dans la petite église pendant des heures, son esprit rempli d'images techniques complexes. Un millier de nouveaux dessins sont venus à sa tête chaque minute, seulement pour être rapidement oublié le suivant. Idly, sans se rendre compte, Glargh avait pris à utiliser le petit tournevis sur sa ceinture utilitaire pour étoffer ces dessins dans les murs de l'Église. Heureusement, personne n'était là pour voir, du moins pour le moment. Ayant passé quelques heures en paix, il ouvrit les yeux pour la première fois dans ce qui ressemblait à l'éternité et regarda le mur à côté de lui. Il y avait sculpté des dessins hypothétiques pour des fusils à main, des armures adaptées aux alliages de navires et au moins trois recettes différentes pour Macaroni et Cheese. Il a couru ses doigts cicatrices le long des marques, essayant de trouver un moyen de les emmener avec lui. Avant d'avoir une chance, l'aumônier est entré de la porte derrière lui et a posé une main sur l'épaule de Glargh. "Il est temps que tu partes." Et donc, sans dispute, Glargh est parti. Il est sorti, voyant quelques étrangers à proximité regarder loin et parler dans des villes houssées. Glargh a essayé de ne pas pleurer alors qu'ils parlaient de l'abomination à bord de la station. Glargh s'est senti comme s'il avait eu la chance de voir deux personnes s'approcher de lui, bien que les choses aient pris un tour pour le pire quand on a tiré une lame d'interrupteur de sa poche de pantalon. "J'ai entendu dire que tu étais venu sur le Bruant assourdissant. Un pilote de tat 'Merlin' ou ce qu'ils appellent 'Im." "Glargh Blargh?" J'ai demandé à Glargh Blargh. "Tu es une sorte d'imbécile ou quelque chose de plus?" Dit l'homme étrange, s'approchant de Glargh. En descendant, Glargh a rapidement appuyé sur le bouton pour activer son appareil de com-net. "Tu vas mourir comme l'a fait l'oncle de Mah." L'homme a frappé Glargh, l'homme défiguré ayant à peine le temps de s'éloigner du chemin. Le deuxième homme jeûnait, atterrissant un coup qui a frappé Glargh contre un mur voisin. Il a pris sa torche de plasma de sa ceinture utilitaire, incendiant le petit jet d'énergie et l'utilisant pour balancer l'homme armé. Il a souffert d'une brûlure à la main, lançant sa lame de commutation au sol. "Tu vas payer pour ça" a crié à l'homme, attraper le poignet de Glargh et le balayer autour. Il laissa tomber la petite torche de plasma et cria, n'émettant qu'un son de gémissement. Glargh a balancé sa main libre autour et a creusé des clous défigurés dans le poignet de l'homme, lui donnant assez de temps libre pour tourner et courir. "Tu n'iras nulle part!" Les deux hommes ont poursuivi. Avec ses jambes déjà endommagées, Glargh n'avait aucune chance. Il a été poussé à peu près au sol. "Glargh Blargh!" Il a plaidé, essayant de mettre ses mains en place pour se défendre, mais ses agresseurs ont simplement frappé autour d'eux, chaque coup forçant plus d'air des poumons de Glargh.	Glargh Blargh "Glargh Blargh” -Glargh Blargh T H E B A S I C S \|Name\| Rick McKendrick II \|Age\| 23/07/2326 \|Age\| 31 \|Race\| Terran \|Gender\| Male A P P E A R A N C E \|In Depth Appearance\| Glargh Blargh appears as a horribly scarred human. 3rd degree burns have solidified as scars over his entire body. A loose pile of skin flaps hangs from his neck, revealing a hole in his throat. His burns have left his skin a sickly green colour, with dashes of a pale orange throughout. Glargh has grey eyes, and all his hair has been burnt clean off. \|Scars, Tattoos, Piercings\| All of his skin is broken, cracked, scarred and burnt. G E T T I N G T O K N O W M E \|Likes & Dislikes\| ✔Mechanical Work, Quiet downtime, Pacifists, Long walks on the beach ✘Combat, mercenaries, mining stations, people who go out of their way to fight. \|Habits\| Glargh Blargh takes keen interest in all things mechanical, and will often stop to admire and pick apart things to understand how they work. Glargh is a keen reader, and the fastest way to his heart is to buy him old instruction manuals or Galactic Geographic Issues. \|Fears\| ☠Fuel ☠Being lonely D E L V I N G D E E P E R \|Personality\| ♦ Reliable ♦ Possessive ♦ Easily distracted ♦ Paranoid ♦ Rick McKendrick II was born with ADHD-PI, making it difficult for him to focus on difficult tasks. Because of the disorder, he is also prone to fits of anxiety, obsession and depression. The results of an experimental treatment designed to completely remove the disorder from the brain means that he also occasionally experiences hallucinations, sensory, auditory and visual. The accident left Glargh Blargh permanently paranoid of equipment malfunction, which has resulted in him devoting himself to ensuring everything, no matter where he may be, works as it should. His body is frail and weak, and as such he has no interest in fighting. He is likely to hide unless his friends are in grave danger, where he is willing to step in and protect them. He's basically a good old Lawful Good character. \|Place of Origin\| Earth \|History\| Born to the rich McKendrick merchant family, Rick struggled through his early years in his district's most expensive school. He was diagnosed with ADHD-PI when he was five. His father tried throwing money at the problem until it went away, but was unsatisfied with simply medicating the condition. He helped fund an experimental procedure which would be able to "cleanse" a brain of mental conditions. Unfortunately, the experiment merely resulted in Rick experiencing severe hallucinations. These are medicated with an experimental drug called Beaumaris. When he was 15, Rick accidentally missed several doses of Beaumaris and voices told him that his family planned to kill him. In his fit of paranoid, Rick ran away from home, stowing aboard a cargo container he believed would take him to Australia, not realising that the cargo was destined to be loaded on a spaceship. Rick found himself on the Kabul Mining Station, dedicated to drawing fuel from a nearby planet and refining it into fuel usable by spaceships. The young stowaway was taken under the wing of the chief maintenance officer, who mentored him in engineering and mechanical work while also protecting him from the station head who wanted Rick removed. 10 years into his stay, his mentor died and left Rick as the only qualified technician on the station. He gladly took up the role and was assigned with the job of training new employees in emergency patience procedures to prevent the now ageing station from going critical and exploding. He soon gained a position inspecting mechanical parts that are delivered to the station, which he then used to smuggle Beaumaris into Kabul. 5 years later, when Rick was thirty, the station was attacked by vicious pirates. They began massacring the station, and Rick was forced to hide in the main fuel shaft where he had been performing routine repairs. His personal scanner informed him that the rest of the station had already been killed, so Rick decided to take revenge on the pirates by rigging the fuel shaft to vent throughout the station. Rick successfully killed all the pirates by vending the raw, corrosive fuel. He was able to move through derelict station with a safety suit covering his body, giving him time to reach an escape pod. Unfortunately, the pod jettisoned itself with such force that Rick fell onto the control panel, cracking his visor. The lingering gas within the pod rushed into his suit, burning his entire body. He was barely able to remove the suit in time before he burnt to death. It was a miracle that Rick's body was able to survive the wounds it did. He is now covered in scars, and damage to his throat prevents him from saying his name. As such, he is known only by the most common pair of sounds he makes, "Glargh Blargh." \|Extra\| Saying anything more than grunts or strange audible sounds hurts Glargh's throat a lot. Please refrain from discussing philosophy with him. Even burnt, Glargh's mind is damaged. He still needs to take a Beaumaris tablet everyday, lest he end up going insane from the hallucinations.
23,864	688	6	369	78	Janet avait failli sortir de la baie des moteurs, quand soudain son pied s'est pris dans quelque chose, elle a tourné les bras en arrière dans une tentative de retrouver son équilibre, mais l'échec était finalement inévitable. Elle tomba fort sur le sol et comme si elle était soudainement devenue le méchant dans une caricature de 400 ans, les poches de son pantalon de cargaison s'ouvraient et tous les outils qu'elle gardait en général, s'envolaient à travers toute la pièce. Elle a pris un moment pour reprendre son souffle avant de se retourner lentement pour inspecter ce qui était infernal avait causé sa descente ingrate. Une petite tige de métal qui sortait de la pompe à eau avait pris le pied gauche. Janet avait remarqué le petit morceau de jonque avant, mais comme il n'était pas vital ou effectivement remplir une quelconque utilisation du tout, son retrait n'avait pas été élevé sur la liste des choses à faire - jusqu'à maintenant. Elle a saisi le chalumeau qui s'était posé à côté d'elle et a commencé à le couper, tout en grognant des malédictions supprimées, jurant de frapper personnellement les clous dans le cercueil de celui qui était responsable, après qu'elle l'a cloué pour la première fois dans ledit cercueil. Les portes derrière elle ont ouvert l'annonce de l'entrée des capitaines, tout comme elle a terminé le travail. Cet endroit avait l'air plus propre quand tout était cassé. Je sais que je ne t'ai pas vraiment vu depuis que tu es à bord, excuse pour ça. Ça a été une sorte de voyage, je vais vous le dire. Qu'est-ce qui vous plaît ici? Tout va bien? Des problèmes? Si c'est le cas, c'est un petit vaisseau pour que tu puisses me trouver quelque part ici, ou juste crier. Et nous allons bientôt sur Harkon, alors voulez-vous quelque chose pour vous? Notre maître de charge, Certus, ramassait des fournitures et se demandait." Janet a traité la quantité de mots qu'elle a jetés quand elle s'est levée du sol. "Je vais bien, monsieur. Désolé pour le bordel, je vais nettoyer avant de partir. Cestus, vous avez dit monsieur?" Elle a fait de son mieux pour ne pas montrer à quel point elle était surprise de son apparition soudaine. "Oui, vous auriez dû obtenir un message de lui, je suppose que vous avez été occupé avec... Ça?" Il a agité sa main à la pompe à eau. "Oh et lâchez le monsieur, pas besoin de telles formalités." Cestus, c'était tout. L'homme l'a juste épargnée d'une recherche agaçante pour cette seule note. "Non, monsieur, vous êtes le capitaine. Je viens de terminer un peu d'entretien de la pompe à eau, ne devrait pas causer de problèmes pendant un moment." Techniquement la vérité. "Bon travail. Ce serait dommage si nous mourions tous à cause d'une pompe à eau défectueuse. D'autres problèmes?" Il plaisantait, mais Janet connaissait trop bien les dangers de l'eau dans le câblage. "J'ai juste vérifié les systèmes, tout semble fonctionner sans problème, au moins tout ce qui est vital fonctionne sans problème, donc nous ne mourrons pas aujourd'hui. Sauf si vous vous faites tirer dessus, monsieur." Pas sûr que sa petite blague ait marché, Janet a commencé à rassembler ses outils. "D'accord, je t'y laisse." Le capitaine a dit qu'il quittait le compartiment moteur. Une fois de plus, elle est presque arrivée à la porte, après avoir finalement rassemblé tous ses outils, quand elle a été arrêtée de nouveau. Le capitaine est revenu, cette fois en compagnie de la femme Android et a jeté un tas de câblage et de pièces électriques sur le sol, déclarant qu'ils mourraient après tout. Apparemment - Cyl? - avait pris la liberté de les retirer du navire, mais avant que Janet puisse poser des questions, ils sont repartis tous les deux. Annoyée, elle a ramassé les composants du navire, elle devrait dire à l'androïde ce qui est habituellement arrivé aux gens qui se sont moqués de son travail plus tard. Les fils auraient pu faire partie de presque n'importe quoi sur le navire, au moins elle savait qu'ils ne provenaient d'aucun système primaire ou vital, puisque ceux-ci fonctionnaient bien. Cela pourrait prendre un certain temps, alors elle a envoyé un message à Cestus lui demandant s'il pourrait reprendre le ravitaillement, depuis qu'elle s'est fait retenir. Janet a laissé sortir un long soupir, alors qu'elle a commencé sa recherche de fils manquants en commençant un programme de diagnostic sur sa console. Deux heures plus tard, elle a laissé le moineau enflant propre et fraîchement douché. Quelqu'un lui devait un verre. Elle a lentement fait son chemin vers le bar où ils étaient tous censés se retrouver, puisqu'elle n'était pas pressée, elle a pris son temps pour tout prendre. La station était buzz avec les gens, courant autour et parlant sans fin les uns avec les autres. La plupart étaient humains, ou du moins ressemblaient à un, androïdes étaient souvent difficiles à identifier visuellement, mais il y avait aussi quelques extraterrestres. Deux kongi, se disputant évidemment de ce que l'un d'eux transportait dans un sac, se tenaient à proximité. Un Rikari beaucoup plus grand les observait d'un banc voisin, il avait l'air affamé. Janet s'est ridiculisée, la pensée était limite raciste, bien qu'elle n'était pas vraiment sûre de ce que Rikari a mangé exactement. Au fond de ses pensées, elle a presque été écrasée par Cestus alors qu'elle tournait autour du prochain coin.	Janet „Bolt“ Lynch “It's broken, idiot. Let me fix it and get the f*** away from it.” - Janet Lynch T H E B A S I C S \|Name\| Janet Lynch \|Birth Date\| February 7th, 2325 \|Age\| 32 \|Species\| Human \|Gender\| Female A P P E A R A N C E \|In Depth Appearance\| Janet is 5'8ft. (1.73m) tall and has long hair which she keeps colored grey, like her eyes. She's athletically built with particularly strong hands. Her outfit consists usually of a tank top and a utility vest, where she keeps several tools in arms reach, cargo pants, which are equally useful in the tool holding department, military-style safety boots and welding goggles. The clothes, like herself, are often dirty and covered in oil. \|Scars, Tattoos, Piercings\| She has several scars and burn marks on her hands from years of working with heavy machinery. The fingers of her left hand have obviously been broken several times, additionally part of her face was burnt in an accident a few years back. A complex tattoo covers her upper left arm. G E T T I N G T O K N O W M E \|Job\| Engineer/Mechanic \|Likes & Dislikes\| ✔Working, tinkering and maintaining machinery ✔Weapons, unless pointed her way. ✔Space, the vast emptiness comforts her. ✔Authority, likes people who can take charge of a situation. ✔Expertise, when someone knows what he/she is doing. ✘Children, don't know what they are doing. ✘Politics, basically adult children arguing. ✘Laziness, doesn't get the job done. ✘Cucumber, who likes it anyway. \|Habits\| Ever since she left the military Janet has made a habit of keeping up a similar lifestyle to the one, she was following during her service. When she is not checking the systems or doing any essential work, she will maintain her equipment, tinker or work out to keep up her physical performance. In her years aboard numerous vessels, traveling across the galaxy, she picked up a rather foul manner of speaking, which she tries to keep down. It shows, however, anytime she's in a state of emotional distress, especially when annoyed or angered. \|Fears\| ☠Water, technically she fears the drowning aspect. ☠Captivity, literally and figuratively. D E L V I N G D E E P E R \|Personality\| ♦ Disciplined ♦ Reliable ♦ Vulgar ♦ Workaholic ♦ Janet identifies strongly with her work, since she has a passion for any kind of machinery, particularly space ships and weapons, to the point at which she often spends her free time tinkering and taking care of equipment. She tries to always perform at her best and follows given orders to the point, since Janet values the advantages of a solid order of command and especially a competent commander. She is however not a people pleaser and dislikes it when others "suck up" to their superiors. Janet may seem somewhat distant, due to her being taken up by her work quite a lot, but she does enjoy the company of others, as long as they don't stay between her and a malfunctioning engine. She likes, or at least approves of, people who manage to do their own job properly, and highly regards those who excel in their field of expertise, as long as she believes this expertise are of some value, unlike politics. \|Place of Origin\| Earth \|History\| Janet grew up in a middle-class family, her mother was a teacher and her father owned a small workshop, inside which she discovered her interest for moving metal at an early age and spent her youth taking apart and repairing all sort of machines and devices. She spent long nights tinkering and building improvised devices out of spare parts from her father's workshop and the nearby scrap yard. When she was 14, an uncle took her with him on a trip to all the big terran colonies. The experience of space travel lead her to pursue a career, which would allow her to spend her lifetime aboard massive ships, traveling the galaxy. When she was old enough, Janet signed up for five years of service in the terran military forces, as a combat engineer. Her training mostly consisted of learning how to repair, maintain and setup military equipment and vehicles, often under battle conditions. She also learned how to use a variety of weaponry, although she never excelled at using them, she nonetheless finds pleasure in working on them to this day, especially explosives. After her training she was sent on several missions on board a variety of ships. One such mission almost ended by her drowning in an ocean, after the ship she was on was shot down by pirates while in atmosphere, ever since this day she has, to her own shame, developed a fear of water. After these five years of service Janet wanted to find new challenges and worked on several civilian ships, ranging from transporters to scientific research vessels, always ready to jump aboard a new ship - a new challenge. Which lead her to her most recent job on board of a small space ship, named after a certain animal.
23,865	688	7	1,555	729	Les mains rapides Kyo Le capitaine s'est arrêté sur le pont pour comme si elle avait besoin de quoi que ce soit. Elle a simplement répondu de la même façon qu'elle le fait toujours. "Je suis hors service pour les prochaines heures Cap, je te rejoindrai plus tard." Le capitaine Perch saurait ce qu'elle voulait dire par là. Elle allait visiter des personnages indisciplinés, même si sur cette station ils n'étaient pas difficiles à trouver. Elle a fait sa propre sortie du navire et s'est dirigée vers ce qui, à première vue, semblait être un restaurant appelé le Jade Weevil. En vérité, c'était un front pour un courtier d'information, un Kongi nommé Ipstrah. Ipstrah n'était pas vraiment quelque chose à regarder et il avait un terrible sens du style. Il portait des robes violettes avec des rayures jaunes ornées d'argent et un chapeau deux fois plus grand que sa tête avec différentes plumes. Ipstrah dirigeait une maison de jeu à l'arrière de son restaurant avec des tables mal éclairées et des ponts empilés. Kyo n'était pas venu pour jouer, cependant, et est allé directement à l'arrière-bureau. Elle a été confrontée à deux grands Rikari, les gardes du corps d'Ipstrah, qui ont tenté de bloquer la porte. Elle les a passés à Ipstrah qui était préoccupé par un terminal informatique. "Ipstrah, espèce de singe tordu, sors tes putains de lézards de mon visage!" Le gaudy Kongi a pris vie alors qu'il réalisait qui était à sa porte. "Kyo ma chère, bienvenue dans mon humble établissement! Entrez, entrez." Les deux gardes l'ont larguée alors qu'elle les a poussés devant et se sont penchés sur la chaise en face de son bureau. -- Maintenant, qu'est-ce qui amène une si belle femme humaine comme vous à mon petit coin de l'univers, hein? Kyo a atteint dans sa poche et sorti une fumée, rendant Ipstrah nerveux, elle a délibérément traîné la conversation lui laissant suer un peu. Finalement, après avoir allumé sa cigarette et pris une grosse traînée, elle a parlé. "Vous avez menti." Ipstrah a immédiatement répondu. "Non, non, non! Un malentendu que je vous assure!..." Ipstrah fit des gestes grandioses en parlant. "...Tu vois que je ne serais jamais malhonnête dans mes transactions, et certainement pas avec un client aussi précieux. Pas moi, non, jamais! Qu'est-ce qu'il y a? uh." Kyo a pris une autre traînée. Sans prévenir, elle a donné un coup de pied au bureau d'Ipstrah, le mettant entre son bureau et le mur arrière de son bureau. Les deux Rikari essayèrent de se précipiter mais se rencontrèrent avec un pistolet visant l'une de leurs têtes. La jambe de Kyo tenait le bureau contre Ipstrah. "Lucky pour vous singe, je suis de bonne humeur aujourd'hui pour vous donner une chance de vous racheter. Vous allez me donner un rapport pour les primes exceptionnelles de ce secteur et je sortirai d'ici." Ipstrah, a l'air douloureux et soumis, heureux d'accord. "H-ici..." Il lui tendit une puce, qu'elle arracha et mit dans sa poche de manteau. Kyo a laissé tomber le bureau et Ipstrah a soupiré un soulagement. "On est même... pour l'instant." Les deux Rikari se démangeaient pour un combat, mais Ipstrah les a arrêtés et Kyo est sorti de là et est retourné dans la rue. C'était son premier arrêt, puis un orphelinat près d'une église. Elle n'avait jamais beaucoup dérangé la religion, mais l'orphelinat était dirigé par les Sœurs de Merci. La plupart ne savaient pas, mais les Sœurs de Merci ont également géré un réseau de trafic de stupéfiants qui a financé la plupart de leurs efforts de bonne volonté. Leurs efforts de secours sont admirables mais ce sont aussi les mêmes personnes qui chevauchent la drogue autour de l'inverse. L'orphelinat avait sa propre chapelle où Kyo entrait et s'asseyait au deuxième banc un espace au-dessus de l'allée, attendant. Bientôt une nonne est venue et s'est assise à côté d'elle. "Que la miséricorde de Mère soit sur toi, mon enfant." Kyo a simplement répondu. "Mercy est un cadeau que nous pouvons tous partager." La Nonne n'a pas fait de mouvement. "De beaux mots n'ont jamais été prononcés. Notre offre, si elle vous plaît et les moyens de nous contacter si vous souhaitez accepter." Elle a remis une petite puce à Kyo et est partie en laissant kyo seule. Sur la puce serait des instructions et le paiement dû pour le travail si elle voulait le prendre. Kyo s'est levé et a quitté l'orphelinat. C'est alors qu'elle a remarqué deux hommes pourchassant quelqu'un qui semblait très familier. C'est l'homme brûlé, Rick quelque chose d'autre, qui ne pouvait pas parler à cause de ses blessures. "Pour l'amour de Dieu..." Elle s'est bafouée et s'est enfuie pour courir après eux. Les deux étaient tellement préoccupés d'essayer de tabasser l'homme pratiquement inoffensif qu'ils n'ont pas remarqué qu'elle courait derrière eux. Elle sauta juste avant de les atteindre et navigua le genou d'abord dans l'arrière de la tête des premiers idiots, lui posant la face froide sur le sol, le tuant très probablement. Kyo n'a pas perdu de temps et a pris l'autre dans la tête avec un coude l'envoyant planter de nouveau dans le mur. Alors qu'il rebondissait du mur, elle l'a attrapé et jeté sur son épaule et l'a étranglé alors qu'il tombait sur le sol. Une gauche, une droite, encore et encore, elle s'est cognée le visage. Le visage de l'homme était un satané désordre et elle a continué. " Espèce de merde!... Encore et encore. ...Fuck...YOU!" Enfin l'homme s'est évanoui, s'il se levait même plus tard, il aurait besoin de soins médicaux sérieux. Elle s'est levée du corps de l'enfoiré et a marché vers sa compagne d'équipage clairement en détresse. Avec des mains ensanglantées, elle lui a offert de l'aider. "Tu ne peux pas rester loin des ennuis? Allez, sortons d'ici."	Quick-Hands Kyo “Death is what happens when you give up.” -Kyo Ueda T H E B A S I C S \|Name\| Kyo Ueda \|Birth Date\| 03.04.2329 \|Age\| 28 \|Species\| Human \|Gender\| Female A P P E A R A N C E \|In Depth Appearance\| Kyo is tough and toned from constant workouts and hard labor. She has jet black hair, smoky grey eyes and almond skin. She's almost always wearing her Federation Marine Corps longcoat with some combination of pants with suspenders, combat boots, tube top or tank top, and some leather fingerless gloves. \|Scars, Tattoos, Piercings\| Her left forearm is covered in an intricate tribal tattoo which she refuses to explain the meaning of. G E T T I N G T O K N O W M E \|Likes & Dislikes\| ✔Men ✔Women ✔Strong Drink ✔Good Food ✘Lazyness ✘Liars \|Habits\| Habitual Smoker (real tobbaco no substitutes) \|Fears\| ☠Dying alone ☠ D E L V I N G D E E P E R \|Personality\| ♦ Clever ♦ Educated ♦ Resourceful ♦ Sarcastic ♦ Kyo is a problem solver, when things need to get done she charges head first into it. She may appear reckless at first glance but that's just her style. Beneath her zeal is a quick-witted intelligent mind and a resourceful individual. Thinking outside the box is the norm here and conventional means are rarely her first choice. \|Place of Origin\| Titan, Sol System, Terran Federation \|History\| Kyo was born on Titan, Saturn's moon. She was orphaned before she can remember and grew up on the streets of the harsh desert towns. Although Titan was Terra-formed early in Terran expansion it never really reached the levels of some of the other colonies. It remains a barely hospitable wasteland where only the mining of precious minerals keeps the industry alive. Kyo found herself working in the mines when she was only 12 years old. On a heavily policed colony like the ones on Mars and Venus child labor was unheard of but on Titan it was a fact of life, either no law men were around to see it or they were quietly enjoying their bribes instead. It took Kyo six years to get out of the mines. She finally escaped by jamming a chisel into the foreman's head, stealing his money, and causing a riot. Using the confusion to get out, she stole a buggy and drove it all the way to the spaceport. she then used her stolen money to buy a fake passport and a ticket to Mars. Soon after her arrival on Mars she was recruited by the Terran Federation Marine Corps (TFMC). She breezed through training, as her rough childhood had prepared her for the worst, and soon she found herself serving with a 'Raider' unit, who specialized in boarding operations. A couple years of service and she was leading a Raider unit of her own. Finally it was time to re-enlist but something made her retire early. Perhaps she had grown tired of the military lifestyle, or having to fight on behalf of rich politicians. Regardless of the reason it was clearly time for a change. She wandered around Terran and Kongi space for a while hopping from different bars until she met a man by the name of Jim Perch. He had just bought his own ship, the Soaring Sparrow, and needed a first mate. For whatever reason, she decided to enlist and has served faithfully as the Captain's right hand ever since. \|Extra\| Stay out of her room unless invited and, most importantly, don't drink her bottle of Rikari Bloodwine.
23,866	688	8	991	1,973	Andreas avait quitté le navire peu de temps après que le capitaine l'avait fait, l'humain était apparu dans le laboratoire médical, a demandé si les fournitures étaient nécessaires et Andreas a donné une courte, mais la liste exacte de tout ce qu'il jugeait « nécessaire » pour assurer la meilleure norme opérationnelle pour le navire. Alors qu'il sortait de la gare, seul, une chose lui restait dans l'esprit. Comment le capitaine l'avait appelé "son homme". C'était un type commun d'argot utilisé parmi les humains qui indiquait l'amitié. Andreas n'était pas un homme, c'était un androïde, et le capitaine le savait certainement. Peut-être le capitaine l'a-t-il considéré comme un humain? Bien qu'il ait montré tant de signes d'un androïde, étrange. Ses yeux scannaient son nouvel environnement pendant qu'il errait tranquillement, les capteurs qui étaient en substance ses «oreilles» ramassant des tidbits d'information. Certains de ces propos étaient innocents, d'autres ce qui était manifestement illégal affaires, même certains d'un homme humain se plaignant que sa femme n'était pas "donner", bien que l'androïde n'avait aucune idée de ce que cela signifiait. Peut-être qu'elle n'a pas assez donné à la charité pour l'aimer? Juste à ce moment-là, il a reçu le message du capitaine au sujet d'un incident, apparemment l'un des membres de l'équipage avait irrité certains des denizens de la station. Andreas était curieux de savoir exactement ce qui s'était passé, et alors si l'un des habitants de la région se concentrait sur la vengeance pourrait comprendre s'il était membre de l'équipage. S'ils le faisaient, ils essaieraient sûrement de lui faire peur, ou du moins de l'interroger. Ce serait troublant. Il n'a pas pu mentir, s'ils lui ont demandé où était le capitaine ou où le navire a été amarré, alors il devrait leur dire. Ce serait mieux pour lui de rencontrer les autres. Andreas s'est rendu à The Spinning Schooner, évitant tout conflit ou toute autre interaction avec les gens qui l'entourent. Alors qu'il s'approchait de la taverne, il remarqua qu'un homme manifestement enivré était escorté. L'alcool n'a jamais fait appel à lui, il ne l'a pas touché, mais il a affecté les humains et d'autres races. Toujours d'une manière négative, ralenti le temps de réaction, le discours lugubre, juste quelques-uns des problèmes causés par la substance. Il n'aimait pas que tant de gens y soient accros, que certains membres de l'équipage en boivent et qu'il désapprouve. Il entra soigneusement dans la taverne, passant devant n'importe quel peuple à sa façon. Puis il se trouva dans la salle du bar, juste en face du bar où l'un des barmans le regardait tandis qu'Andreas se taisait, rappelant où se trouvaient les autres. -- Hé, beau gosse, pourquoi je ne t'offre pas un verre? Une voix féminine lui dit, sur son côté gauche d'une position assise. Il s'est tourné vers la source, trouvant qu'il s'agit d'une fille humaine à l'air difficile, cheveux blonds courts, maquillage lourd, tatouages sur l'un de ses bras, probablement assez douloureux à recevoir. Elle avait offert de lui acheter une boisson alcoolique, pourquoi il se demandait. Peut-être qu'elle voulait être son amie. Le mot'manifestant' signifiait que son apparence lui plaisait, même s'il n'était pas certain de la façon dont cela était lié à l'amitié. C'était plutôt un signal d'intérêt romantique, qui n'était pas quelque chose que l'androïde connaissait de l'expérience. Il l'avait déjà vu se produire dans les produits biologiques, bien que de nombreuses parties de celui-ci l'aient confondu. Pourquoi une femme humaine ferait un geste d'amour envers lui, il était incompatible avec elle. La reproduction entre les deux était impossible. "Bonjour." Andreas répondit avec un sourire. La femme a rendu le sourire avant qu'elle ne parle comme l'androïde a remarqué son état, elle était enivrée, un verre de whisky vieilli devant elle, aussi une main tenue arme à feu sur sa ceinture. L'alcool et les armes à feu ne se sont pas mélangés, des incidents se sont produits dans le passé lorsque les deux ont été mélangés. "Assieds-toi, je vais te prendre un verre." Elle a répondu en signalant l'attention du barman. "Ce n'est pas nécessaire, je ne bois pas de boissons alcoolisées." Andreas a dit qu'il s'était assis à côté d'elle. Juste alors, il sentit une main sur son épaule, une main ferme forte qui appartenait à un grand homme. "Qu'est-ce que tu fais, mon pote? C'est ma petite amie et mon siège. Pourquoi tu ne bouges pas avant que je te fasse? » L'homme a dit à Andreas, son ton hostile. L'utilisation du pal une utilisation sarcastique. Une menace d'affrontement physique a également été exprimée par lui. Tout ça parce qu'Andreas était assise à côté de l'amant de l'homme. « Il n'est pas nécessaire de recourir à la violence. Les frais médicaux à ce poste seraient extrêmes pour toute personne ayant subi des blessures graves causées par la violence. » Andreas répondit, alors qu'il se tournait vers l'homme. "Qu'est-ce que ça veut dire? Qu'est-ce que tu es, un des putains de robots?" "Un androïde pour être précis, le robot est un terme brut. Utilisé plus précisément pour les premières unités de travail primitives. Je suis le modèle de troisième génération de Synthétique Avenue de marque II androïde, conçu pour apparaître complètement comme l'homme de plus de manières que simplement l'apparence physique." Andreas a dit, l'homme lui a demandé s'il était un synthétique. "Qu'est-ce que ça veut dire, putain. Tony, je croyais que tu n'avais pas laissé les robots entrer dans ton bar." L'homme a dit à l'un des barmans. "Seulement s'ils sont avec des gens réels." Le barman s'est introduit en nettoyant un verre avec un chiffon. "Eh bien, il s'est juste promené ici tout seul et a commencé à parler à ma fille." « C'est incorrect monsieur, je suis ici pour affaires avec les membres de mon équipage. Votre amant m'a offert un verre, j'ai simplement continué la conversation amicale avec elle." Andreas a dit de corriger l'homme. "Alors va t'asseoir avec ton putain d'équipage, cervelle de circuit." Le barman a dit. -- Comme vous le souhaitez, répondit Andreas avec un clin d'œil, puis un clin d'œil à la fois à la femme enivrée et à l'homme. "Un plaisir de faire vos deux connaissances." Il s'est ensuite levé de son siège et a trouvé deux membres de son équipage à la cabine d'angle. Son collègue androïde et le capitaine. Ils étaient à proximité lorsque Cyl a versé des larmes. C'était une vue confuse pour Andreas. D'autres androïdes étaient capables de produire des humains comme des larmes, il ne l'avait tout simplement pas vu auparavant et n'était pas sûr pourquoi elle le faisait. -- Pourquoi Cyl pleure-t-il, capitaine? Andreas a demandé quand il a pris place dans la cabine.	Andreas Galen “Machine mind, human ingenuity.” -Andreas Galen T H E B A S I C S \|Name\| Andreas Galen \|Birth Date\| June 3rd, 2357 \|Age\| Approximately five months old, though appears to be in his late twenties. \|Species\| Humanoid Android \|Gender\| Male A P P E A R A N C E \|In Depth Appearance\| Andreas stands exactly six feet tall, he appears completely human on the outside. His frame is study and masculine, showing no flaws or irregularities. He has dark blonde hair, and keeps a clean shaven appearance. The android has curious brown eyes which often wander as he absorbs the sights around him. His clothing of choice is a dark grey jumpsuit, several pockets on it, on his feet he wears a comfortable pair of black boots. \|Scars, Tattoos, Piercings\| N/A G E T T I N G T O K N O W M E Job Medic \|Likes & Dislikes\| ✔ Learning, any knowledge he can learn. ✔ Music, the type which stirs an emotional response. ✔ Helping people, whether that be through medical aid or other. ✔ Mind sports, chess is a favorite. ✘ Violence and death. ✘ Smoking, drinking and drugs. ✘ Intense arguments and extremely negative emotions. ✘ Abuse of animals. \|Habits\| - Andreas does everything by the book, as he is programmed to. These ways are often the most direct ways. - He is non violent, programmed that way. Andreas has a strict refusal to attack an organic lifeform. If someone gets into a fight with him then he won't fight back. - As an android, he was programmed with a full range of emotions, but he does not understand them. He will often ask peculiar questions about human behaviors in an effort to understand and try to become more human like. \|Fears\| ☠ Failing those he serves as a man of medicine. ☠ His ten year lifespan ending, he cannot comprehend it, as it was programmed when he was created. D E L V I N G D E E P E R \|Personality\| ♦ Emotionally naive ♦ Straightforward ♦ Curious ♦ Good-natured ♦ Andreas is a positive thinking android, ones that genuinely cares about others. He treats everyone positively, even if they are the worst kind of scum. He's naive with his emotions in an innocent way. Whilst fully programmed with them he does not understand them fully, nor others. He understands people medically, but not emotionally. Subjects such as love and war are something he does not get. He's also fully aware of his status as an android, though does not know why some people treat him with prejudice because of it. He's straightforward in his methods and his words, often speaking bluntly with no ill intent. He wasn't programmed to lie, and when asked a question will tell the whole truth. He's an emotional being, able to feel both positive and negative emotions, as well as an almost childlike curiosity and a sense of self preservation. He currently goes by many of his programmed functions, though he is able to learn and change them, this includes his personality and emotions, as he could become more human. \|Place of Origin\| Mars, Sol System, Terran Federation. \|History\| Andreas was created on Mars, in a factory in the largest city on the world. He was an early model of his line of humanoid androids, impossible to tell from humans on the outside. He was named after two legendary medical figures in human history, designed as a doctor and a surgeon, capable of a wide range of functions. A complex mind with encyclopedic knowledge of the medical field able to perform high risk surgeries with machine level precision. He was sold off Mars a few days after creation to an independent buyer. The android was never meant to stay on Mars anyways, he was capable of working on any ship or world. Leaving Mars was a strange experience for Andreas, knowledge on space and all of the known worlds were implanted into him before creation, he just was not sure whether to feel sad about leaving his home, the world he was essentially born on. It would be the first of many questions he would ask himself. Andreas was told he was sold to the Sisters of Merci, he had never heard of them, but had been told they provided medical aid across the galaxy to those that desperately needed it. He greatly agreed with the statement, though he did not care for anything in the group other than providing medical aid. He landed on a colony world that had been ravaged by criminals, crime lords practically ran it, crushing the poor under their feet. His first sight of the world, at the beaten, abused masses that needed help saddened the android, he didn't understand why the poor people were hurt so badly by the criminals who ran the world, why no one stepped in to stop them. He spent several months on the world, administering aid to any and all he could. Andreas did good work, it was what he was programmed to do. Though his life would change after one encounter with a patient, one whose family had been butchered by the mob. A young girl, barely even an adult. Her legs had been broken severely by the mobsters, disfigured the more correct term. He was to remove the limbs and replace them with fully functioning synthetic parts. Andreas was tasked with giving her a medical checkup, though it would be much more than that as the disturbed woman killed herself before the android. He had exited the room for a moment to retrieve medicine, when he returned he found the window open, the woman's corpse in the street below. She had dragged herself out of the bed, to the window and leaped from it, all in the few minutes he had left the room. From his briefings and interactions with the girl he figured out that she had severe mental issues, though he never expected her to end her own life, he never knew why anyone would do that. He was relieved of his job after that, the Sisters of Merci horrified at the sight, many blaming him for it. He was given his freedom, though it was not something he wanted, nor was designed to receive. Unsure of where to go next, Andreas drifed for a short time, this was until he ended serving on a ship for the first time in his life. It was a new experience, but one he was eager for. \|Extra\| N/A
23,867	688	9	484	132	Cestus Cestus a regretté son choix de travail. Il avait été le premier à quitter le navire et n'avait pas perdu de temps dans la poursuite apparemment éternelle des objets demandés par le reste de l'équipage. En commençant par les demandes les plus compliquées et en descendant de là-bas. Le port spatial animé était entaché de commerçants, d'équipages navals, de cargaisons de toutes sortes, d'androïdes et de mechs. Si l'on ne savait pas que sa destination se perdait dans la foule, c'était facile. Il a terminé les demandes médicales et d'ingénierie assez rapidement car ils avaient demandé beaucoup d'objets vendus couramment, mais avoir à embaucher un droïde d'aide pour transporter ce qui ne pouvait pas être envoyé directement au navire l'a assez ennuyé pour remettre en question son rôle car il se sentait comme un simple garçon de course. Après avoir terminé tous les équipages, il a demandé à son fournisseur habituel de nourriture pour la bouteille que son capitaine avait demandée et tout le matériel dont il avait besoin pour la cuisine. Cestus est un grand homme nommé Robian qui a gardé toute sorte de nourriture sur son navire massif que les gens ont généralement inondé comme quiconque savait quelque chose sur la qualité de la nourriture savait qu'il était l'homme à contacter. Il a traversé les foules qui ont envahi le quai. L'équipage et les clients heureux inondaient le navire, étant rapidement remplacé par une autre vague d'acheteurs anxieux. Il y avait les équipages de slipway, les hommes d'accise dans leurs chapeaux de bicorne, les inspecteurs de la Garde intérieure, les chefs de classe moyenne, les chefs de haute classe, les fournisseurs d'occasion, les vendeurs humbles, les voyous offrant des visites guidées du navire si bien connu, et les hommes commerciaux et les citoyens privés, qui étaient venus à la gare pour saluer et acheter du navire. Cestus a poussé son chemin à travers l'agitation. Il put sentir les aisselles et la mauvaise haleine, la sueur d'ail des galettes de viande sur un chariot de poêle qui montrait sa viande de Mangeine tropicale achetée récemment, le sucre brûlé d'un vendeur de bonbons qui était également impatient de vendre ce qu'il a acheté, l'ozone qui venait au large des champs de pression atmosphérique de la jetée et, derrière toutes les autres odeurs, la fumée étrangement savonneuse et rancune qui s'accrochait sur une glissière quand un navire exhalait l'air recyclé qui sifflait à travers ses épurateurs d'oxygène depuis huit mois. Robian est passé devant lui en train de transporter des caisses. Un remorqueur fouetté par le haut, ses feux de marche clignotant. Le marché, comme on l'appelait le navire était un juggernaut de rouille piquée et de vide de mer plaqué, assis haut dans la glissade toujours réservé pour elle. Les équipes de service toujours au travail, à l'échelle de ses flancs carbonisés comme des alpinistes sur une face rocheuse. Pour une personne régulière il faudrait des heures pour entrer dans le marché et trois fois le temps de payer et sortir, mais pour un client bien connecté ou très régulier, il suffisait de donner à un travailleur une liste avec ce que vous vouliez, le code de passe des semaines, un peu d'argent et les caisses de précieux vêtements apparaîtraient sur votre soute quelques heures plus tard comme si c'était un acte magique personnellement envoyé et examiné par le géant et bon coeur Robian. Cestus a donné son ordre à un serviteur avec un sourire. Le Cestus XR7M521 a répondu. Le serviteur l'observa à l'oeil large alors qu'il reconnut la première priorité de l'ordre libre, juste envoyé à la famille de Robian. Le petit homme s'inclina et s'en alla, courant aussi vite qu'il le pouvait. Cestus était fier d'être dans une position aussi prestigieuse sur la chaîne alimentaire (littérale). Il avait gagné le respect et l'amitié de Robian, alors qu'il était encore esclave un jour en train de cuisiner dans un événement diplomatique que son maître accueillait. Son maître avait engagé Robian pour cuisiner pour l'événement et avait mis tous ses esclaves pour l'aider. C'est alors que Cestus stupéfia tant le chef qu'il tenta même d'acheter sa liberté pour pouvoir venir travailler avec lui. Cestus refusa donc Robian promit que s'il gagnait sa liberté, il l'aiderait de quelque manière qu'il puisse, ce libre approvisionnement en nourriture en fut le résultat. Heureusement, ce fait n'était pas connu du capitaine et le Loadmaster pouvait jouer à l'argent de son capitaine. Alors qu'il traversait la station vers le plus grand casino qu'elle abritait, les pensées de Cestus ne pouvaient pas aider, mais dévier vers le reste de l'équipage. D'abord il pensait à l'artificiel, il ne savait pas quoi penser d'eux comme les seuls avec lesquels il avait jamais interagi étaient des droïdes de combat qu'il avait l'habitude d'entraîner et de pulvériser. Puis il a pensé à l'homme brûlé, il a été bon cœur et a toujours été reconnaissant de la nourriture qu'il a servi. En parlant de l'appréciation de la cuisine était leur capitaine, toujours joyeux, élégant, et respectueux l'homme était un vrai chef et Cestus serait heureux de le suivre n'importe où. Quant aux autres êtres humains, Cestus a ressenti une attraction bizarre pour eux deux. Kyo il a trouvé beau mais dans une folle peur de sa manière de ténacité. Quant à Janet malgré le visage brûlé et sa rigueur, il l'a trouvé très attirante tristement il n'avait pas eu le temps de lui parler mais aurait certainement aimé la rencontrer. C'était un court voyage de The Market au quai sur lequel se trouvait l'imposant casino. Une promenade étroite, bordée de fougères et de statuettes complexes, a rapidement cédé la place à une large place avec de multiples sorties. Le cuisinier, qui était profondément réfléchi, a pris la fourche occidentale qui finirait par le conduire au quai. Tournant un coin, Cestus a été touché carrément dans la poitrine. L'impact, bien que surprenant, n'a pas du tout ému l'homme. Il regarda ce qui l'avait frappé. Le grand homme a été surpris quand il a vu que c'était Janet elle-même. Le destin a une façon étrange de travailler, il a pensé comme il s'est excusé et l'a saluée. Il semble qu'il ait besoin de ces crédits et de reporter ma visite aux tables, Cestus a conclu qu'il a fait un petit entretien avec la femme, ligotant son mieux pour ne pas montrer tant son attraction évidente envers elle qu'il a déplacé le sujet de la conversation vers le reste de l'équipage et le carburant qu'il venait d'acheter pour elle. Ils parlaient depuis un moment quand ils ont reçu l'avertissement du capitaine. La première réaction de Cestus fut de regarder autour de lui alors qu'il éteignait la sécurité de l'arme qu'il transportait. Cestus avait fait de son mieux pour garder la petite conversation fluide et intéressante pour ne pas sembler terne, mais il n'était pas sûr de savoir comment suggérer ce qu'il voulait vraiment, donc il a jugé bon de l'arrêter et essayer plus tard après des recherches sur les bases de la cour. Le capitaine semble sérieux. Je pense que c'est mieux si on va au bar tout de suite et qu'on évite tout problème inutile, il a dit qu'il se levait du banc les deux parlaient et lui a offert une main. C'est alors qu'il a remarqué les cinq hommes qui les approchaient, des couteaux visibles. Avant que ce ne soit des attaquants ou même Janet pouvait réagir Cestus avait déjà sorti son arme et vidé son mag sur deux d'entre eux. Leurs corps n'avaient pas touché le sol quand le grand homme s'était chargé des autres. Il s'est jeté sur le plus proche et l'a rapidement abattu. Le voyou, demi-conscient en raison de la brutalité de l'impact que la masse massive avait causé, rampé sur son ventre dans une tentative vaine de se dégager de la cuisinière ébulliente. "Nous n'avons pas encore fini, idiot," Cestus a dit, serrer son poing massif autour de la cheville de l'attaquant et le balancer à travers les airs pour s'écraser dans l'un de ses amis. L'homme a rapidement enlevé son compagnon et avec son couteau perdu à cause de la collision nue attaqué main dans la main. Cestus a esquivé l'étreinte maladroite d'ours à deux bras qui l'a visé et a utilisé l'élan de l'homme pour trébucher le goon dur sur son dos. Comme prévu, il a perdu connaissance quand il est venu s'écraser contre le sol. Le dernier avait été intelligent d'attendre alors qu'il se lançait avec son couteau aux cuisiniers exposés en arrière et a essayé d'enterrer la lame dans l'arrière des chasseurs aguerris, mais Cestus était prêt et simplement écarté, permettant à l'homme de poignarder à l'air, avant de livrer une coupe supérieure punitive dans sa joue et ensuite martelant le coude dans sa tête, écrasant le crâne des hommes. Le combat n'a pris que deux minutes. Je ne sais pas qui notre capitaine bien-aimé a énervé mais ils sont assez sérieux, il a dit Janet comme il lui a montré l'une des lames professionnelles évidentes que les hommes avaient essayé d'utiliser. Il a commencé à réfléchir à la façon d'atteindre le bar le plus rapidement possible pendant qu'il chargeait son arme quand il se rappelait que les escadrons de la mort travaillaient en six et qu'il n'y avait que cinq corps sur le sol. Conscient de ce que cela signifiait trop tard pour sauver les deux, il courut vers une Janet confuse et la poussa hors de la route alors qu'un tir de calibre élevé lui braignait le bras. Saignement de la blessure, il a réussi à tirer et à tuer l'homme qui se cachait à proximité. Capitaine, nous avons été attaqués par des pros, qu'est-ce que vous avez fait? Je pense que c'était le dernier d'entre eux, mais je ne peux pas en être sûr. Nous allons vous rencontrer au bar, mais vous avez beaucoup d'explications à faire, il a vérifié son bras meurtri et a vu la blessure avait déjà infecté. Merde, ils ont dû tremper la balle dans un paralyseur ou un poison, il pensait que ses lumières s'éteignaient. Janet, s'il vous plaît verser le whisky Kongi que j'ai acheté pour le capitaine dans ma blessure et m'emmener au docteur au bar si ce n'est pas trop d'un problème, l'homme herculéen a réussi à dire avant de s'effondrer.	Caestus/Cestus “Not right now!” -Cestus T H E B A S I C S Full name Hektor Crucius Tal Birth Date 10.12.2324 Age 32 Species Human Gender Male A P P E A R A N C E In Depth Appearance Cestus is of a fair complexion, slightly taller than average, brawny and well built. He has deep green eyes (one is bionic), a chiseled jaw covered by a well groomed beard and wavy medium-length brown hair that he keeps slicked back. His clothing usually consists of the standard security detail uniform but with short sleeves instead of the usual full arm, a flak jacket, elbow protectors, tall military boots, a multi-use belt, and the standard beret. Cestus also wears an advanced eye patch with a broad strap and a lens in deep black over his regular eye. The eye patch has a built in infrascope and range finder while his bionic eye is a replica of the regular one but with augmented senses and a motion tracker. Scars, Tattoos, Piercings Cestus’ torso, arms, and legs are full of scar tissue due to his unfortunate time in the Rikari pits but the only notable one is the Rikari slave branding on his ankle. In his head he has just a small scar behind the bionic eye from the time he lost it. Tattoo wise the human has four, a big trident on his left arm as it is the symbol for his religion, his mother’s name on the collarbone, the symbol of his former association on the hip, and an official imperial liberation statement on top of the brand on the ankle. G E T T I N G T O K N O W M E Job Loadmaster/Security/Cook Likes & Dislikes ✔ Cooking ✔ Women ✔ Credits ✔ Smooth operations ✘ Pits ✘ Hyperspace ✘ Infighting ✘ Complications Habits Cestus is a top of the line procrastinator and heavy smoker with a tendency to double check everything when he actually decides to work. Besides this gambling may be the biggest of his flaws as he has developed the habit of overspending when on the tables which can cause him lots of trouble. Fears ☠ Swimming ☠ Torture D E L V I N G D E E P E R Personality ♦Honest ♦ Lazy ♦ Careful ♦ Flexible ♦ Cestus is typically a laid-back individual, and does not get himself involved in things unless absolutely necessary. When expressing himself he is the realest person one can ever meet, the ex-gladiator dislikes sugarcoating his intentions and gets straight to the point not caring too much if the opinion is offensive or hard. To help overcome any companion’s trouble he would prefer to attempt to use bribery and outright trickery and manipulate them into doing what was best for them instead of the more heartwarming and talkative approach most would approach. He may come off as rude sometimes but his intentions are always the best. Place of Origin Luna History All of Luna’s poor habitants have a reputation for being tough bastards. Indeed, the underworld of the natural satellite is renowned for being one of the most hellish places in the galaxy due to its overpopulation and all too known criminal problems as you either live rich and on the safe part or on the slums where humans have to learn to shoot before they can walk in order to survive. Criminals and bodyguards native to the moon have a well-deserved reputation for being tough, cunning, hard to kill and crafty. Unfortunately backstabbing is also very common in those dark alleys. Hektor was born to a criminal underboss’ family in those slums. For most of his youth he was a renowned muscle, being employed by his family to enforce situations when just a teen and a prodigy on the underground boxing so common in those places. But as most syndicates on those parts his family’s influence and power were all cut and subsequently the members either joined other groups, were killed, escaped, or captured and sold as slaves to the Rikari. Hektor fell into the latter. His reputation as a skilled fighter made the slavers advertise him as a fighter and at the age of only eighteen he had been sold to a very wealthy pit gambler. Before his first fight he chose the Caestus as his weapon and thus he was renamed Cestus for his master’s simplicity. In that fight a confused Cestus managed to win but lost his eye in the process. His master would replace it with a crude bionic and promised to give him a top of the line one if the gladiator managed to survive. It would take him his sanity and seven agonizing years of death and fighting but eventually the human had gained enough prestige to win himself a top of the line eye. He reluctantly continued that way of life as he had nowhere to run or another place to go to for another year. During that year he got badly injured and as he was the master’s favorite and most efficient fighter was given rest on his sons’ personal property. There he met and befriended the master’s two sons and daughter who taught him how to cook with great skill as he became a regular slave for a while. Eventually the daughter would grow an interest on him and start a physical relationship. It looked like he would stay there for a long time but fearing repercussions for herself and ashamed of what she had done the daughter sent Cestus back to the pits but thanks to divine intervention he would be freed before reaching the arena. His master had been arrested for fraud and all of possessions confiscated. As law stated the government couldn’t own slaves they were all officially and legally released. Cestus quickly made his way back to Luna after a year worth of finding his true self due to the traumatizing experience had had lived. Once back on his homeland he would open a restaurant which he named the iron fist but after being caught in debt several times due to him gambling away the lease money he had to sell his equipment and dream and started to work again in the security business, helping caravan traders and the likes handle and transport their goods efficiently and safely without fear of pirates. Currently Cestus offers both services combined as well as the role of loadmaster (In charge of the cargo loading/unloading operations. Also keeps track of the ship's stores) at a decent price for the variability he offers. Extra He uses his combat knife both to cook and fight.
23,868	688	10	369	78	Janet ne s'attendait pas - littéralement - à rencontrer Cestus et elle ne s'attendait pas non plus à se battre. Mais la journée s'était transformée en une journée pleine de surprises. Après s'être excusé auprès de l'homme brut, dont les peurs n'étaient que dépassées par Glargh Blargh, comme Cestus a insisté pour l'appeler, il a commencé à montrer un vif intérêt à parler avec elle. La plupart du temps de petits discours, mais elle était néanmoins heureuse de discuter un peu avec lui, car il serait moins gênant de travailler avec lui à l'avenir. Une fois, elle a passé trois mois sur un navire sans parler à son maître de charge, quand elle a finalement réussi à le rencontrer, il vient de la regarder comme si elle avait déclaré la guerre sur son nez gigantesque. Soudain, ils avaient tous les deux reçu un message de leur capitaine, qui avait d'une manière ou d'une autre réussi à s'attirer des ennuis en vendant du nickel. De sérieux ennuis, alors qu'elle se demandait encore comment "Merlin" aurait pu réussir un tel exploit, Cestus a soudainement vidé son arme en deux voyous et couru droit sur les trois autres. Janet a sauté et était sur le point de le suivre, mais s'est vite rendu compte qu'elle n'avait pas besoin de s'embêter car le cuisinier les a pris sans problème, un indice possible de l'origine de toutes ses cicatrices. Janet a fait une note mentale pour lui demander à leur sujet parfois, ainsi que ses impressionnants talents de main à main. Le combat a fait en fait pour un spectacle assez et elle était sûre que certaines personnes paieraient de l'argent pour spéculer. "Je ne sais pas qui notre capitaine bien-aimé a énervé, mais ils sont plutôt sérieux." Il lui a donné un couteau. Un couteau bien fait, qu'elle a décidé de garder, puisqu'elle était désarmée en ce moment, et elle a entendu un jour que vous ne pouviez pas posséder trop de couteaux. Tout d'un coup elle était brusquement allongée sur le sol, la deuxième fois ce jour et ses oreilles sonnaient du feu d'arme. Quand elle s'est levée et a remarqué l'aggravation de la situation dans laquelle se trouvait le grand homme, elle s'est sentie mal un moment. Il a dû lui sauver la vie, parce qu'elle était juste là, occupée à se faire tirer dessus. Mais il n'y avait pas de temps comme le présent pour rembourser sa dette. Après le souhait, espérons-le pas dernier, de sa camarade Janet a saisi la bouteille d'alcool et l'a versé dans sa blessure. Puis elle a pris son couteau nouvellement acquis et a coupé un bon morceau de son haut de réservoir, le seul propre qu'elle avait laissé. Elle improvisa rapidement un bandage qu'elle couvrit dans le reste de l'alcool. Alors qu'elle prenait le tissu et baguait sa blessure, elle remarqua un rikari qui se tenait très près, en train de la regarder tandis que tout le monde s'était enfui. "Hey Cobra Commander, que diriez-vous de déplacer votre cul écailleux ici et de m'aider à porter mon ami ici à un putain de docteur?" Elle n'était pas sûre que le grand lézard l'ait comprise, mais il s'est approché et lui a prêté un coup de main. Après s'être assurée que le reptile avait pris Cestus, elle s'est retournée et a saisi son arme du sol, quand elle s'est levée, elle a remarqué qu'elle était couverte de sang. Il y a eu son dernier ensemble de vêtements propres. "Allons, amenons-le au bar avant que quelqu'un ne s'embête à venir chercher. Oh et merci, je connais quelqu'un qui nous doit à tous les trois un verre." Le Rikari vient d'échouer.	Janet „Bolt“ Lynch “It's broken, idiot. Let me fix it and get the f*** away from it.” - Janet Lynch T H E B A S I C S \|Name\| Janet Lynch \|Birth Date\| February 7th, 2325 \|Age\| 32 \|Species\| Human \|Gender\| Female A P P E A R A N C E \|In Depth Appearance\| Janet is 5'8ft. (1.73m) tall and has long hair which she keeps colored grey, like her eyes. She's athletically built with particularly strong hands. Her outfit consists usually of a tank top and a utility vest, where she keeps several tools in arms reach, cargo pants, which are equally useful in the tool holding department, military-style safety boots and welding goggles. The clothes, like herself, are often dirty and covered in oil. \|Scars, Tattoos, Piercings\| She has several scars and burn marks on her hands from years of working with heavy machinery. The fingers of her left hand have obviously been broken several times, additionally part of her face was burnt in an accident a few years back. A complex tattoo covers her upper left arm. G E T T I N G T O K N O W M E \|Job\| Engineer/Mechanic \|Likes & Dislikes\| ✔Working, tinkering and maintaining machinery ✔Weapons, unless pointed her way. ✔Space, the vast emptiness comforts her. ✔Authority, likes people who can take charge of a situation. ✔Expertise, when someone knows what he/she is doing. ✘Children, don't know what they are doing. ✘Politics, basically adult children arguing. ✘Laziness, doesn't get the job done. ✘Cucumber, who likes it anyway. \|Habits\| Ever since she left the military Janet has made a habit of keeping up a similar lifestyle to the one, she was following during her service. When she is not checking the systems or doing any essential work, she will maintain her equipment, tinker or work out to keep up her physical performance. In her years aboard numerous vessels, traveling across the galaxy, she picked up a rather foul manner of speaking, which she tries to keep down. It shows, however, anytime she's in a state of emotional distress, especially when annoyed or angered. \|Fears\| ☠Water, technically she fears the drowning aspect. ☠Captivity, literally and figuratively. D E L V I N G D E E P E R \|Personality\| ♦ Disciplined ♦ Reliable ♦ Vulgar ♦ Workaholic ♦ Janet identifies strongly with her work, since she has a passion for any kind of machinery, particularly space ships and weapons, to the point at which she often spends her free time tinkering and taking care of equipment. She tries to always perform at her best and follows given orders to the point, since Janet values the advantages of a solid order of command and especially a competent commander. She is however not a people pleaser and dislikes it when others "suck up" to their superiors. Janet may seem somewhat distant, due to her being taken up by her work quite a lot, but she does enjoy the company of others, as long as they don't stay between her and a malfunctioning engine. She likes, or at least approves of, people who manage to do their own job properly, and highly regards those who excel in their field of expertise, as long as she believes this expertise are of some value, unlike politics. \|Place of Origin\| Earth \|History\| Janet grew up in a middle-class family, her mother was a teacher and her father owned a small workshop, inside which she discovered her interest for moving metal at an early age and spent her youth taking apart and repairing all sort of machines and devices. She spent long nights tinkering and building improvised devices out of spare parts from her father's workshop and the nearby scrap yard. When she was 14, an uncle took her with him on a trip to all the big terran colonies. The experience of space travel lead her to pursue a career, which would allow her to spend her lifetime aboard massive ships, traveling the galaxy. When she was old enough, Janet signed up for five years of service in the terran military forces, as a combat engineer. Her training mostly consisted of learning how to repair, maintain and setup military equipment and vehicles, often under battle conditions. She also learned how to use a variety of weaponry, although she never excelled at using them, she nonetheless finds pleasure in working on them to this day, especially explosives. After her training she was sent on several missions on board a variety of ships. One such mission almost ended by her drowning in an ocean, after the ship she was on was shot down by pirates while in atmosphere, ever since this day she has, to her own shame, developed a fear of water. After these five years of service Janet wanted to find new challenges and worked on several civilian ships, ranging from transporters to scientific research vessels, always ready to jump aboard a new ship - a new challenge. Which lead her to her most recent job on board of a small space ship, named after a certain animal.
23,869	688	11	2,441	646	C'est ce que j'ai dit.	Jim 'Merlin' Perch “Today's a fine day to not die.” -Merlin T H E B A S I C S \|Name\| Jameson Perch \|Birth Date\| 1.8.2328 \|Age\| 29 \|Species\| Terran \|Gender\| Male A P P E A R A N C E \|In Depth Appearance\| Jim is above average height, peering out at 5'11". His thick, wavy, hazel hair doesn't grow down to meet his shoulders, but instead climbs upwards like a skyscraper under construction, with the mane only becoming wavier and frizzier with the taller heights it achieves, therefore he keeps it short and combs it to the right with the front flicked backwards to keep it under control. His steely blue eyes are an immediate indicator for the stranger about the man that they are about to meet. Bushy eyebrows rest like an umbrella over the grim eyes. Unkempt stubble adorns the jawline of Merlin, while his prominent cheekbones seem to sink his eyeballs. Jim weighs approximately 145lbs and although he is not in warrior condition, he is in reasonably good shape, the shades of muscle definition can be found under inspection. His left arm from the elbow down is synthetic due to a combat scenario with some Rikari pirates when his fighter was hit. The port side of the spacecraft buckled and crumbled his bones and tendons, so the military surgeons decided high-end cybernetics were the route to go as Merlin was currently on route for an extremely decorated career in the Navy. \|Scars, Tattoos, Piercings\| Jim has a tattoo on his right bicep of the naval fleet badge he was in back on Earth. He typically has it bandaged up with gauze to hide his previous affiliations. He also has a scar from a maintenance accident above his left hip bone when a sheet of metal under large pressures buckled and pierced him. G E T T I N G T O K N O W M E \|Job\| Captain of the Soaring Sparrow. \|Likes & Dislikes\| ✔ Space: there really is no place like home ✔ Explosions ✔ Crew meal times ✔ Classic loves stories, real or not ✘ Swearing ✘ Price hagglers ✘ People who talk through movies ✘ When people invade his cockpit \|Habits\| 1. Flying the Sparrow by hand, both in empty space and in chaotic situations, and both typically situations that the computers are more than capable of handling themselves. 2. The look-and-say sequence. Merlin has achieved nearly 40 Mb of data for the puzzle since he started over 10 years ago. 3. Sniffing his fingers. Anything he's touched and if the scent may still be on his finger tips, he will smell them. \|Fears\| ☠ Being alone in the vast emptiness (known as Pioneer's Hysteria in the trade markets), which is why meal times are so appreciated, and why space has the greatest respect of anything he has witnessed. ☠ Slugs, they have no purpose, are unbelievably ugly, and feel disgusting. For this reason there is no job in the universe that could make him go to Taroon. Ever. D E L V I N G D E E P E R \|Personality\| ♦ Serious ♦ Dry ♦ Dependable ♦ Loyal ♦ Jim is, primarily, a captain. And with that he bears the responsibility of his crew. They are his and he is theirs. Therefore his life is the job until their fate is not within his hands. He may joke around occasionally (occasionally), but he is always concerned for his crew. This mentality has stopped him from having any real friends or relationships as the further it develops, the more he feels responsible for keeping it afloat. On the flip side of this though, it is difficult to find a more loyal man. Merlin will stick by you when you need it and is not afraid to fire off a few rounds to keep the vultures at bay if it means the coyotes come out to play. His experience across the systems means that he is wise and dependable, aware of many things that would be pitfalls to the average captain, and uses this knowledge to ensure safety. Typically quite a cold and distant person when you first meet him, he may warm up to you eventually. The eyes show the meaning of him, and that is 'business first, everything else later'. Always ready for a fight, but never looking for one. \|Place of Origin\| An American colony on a space habitat orbiting Jupiter. \|History\| When Jim was born, his father said that he cried for a minute or two then stopped and just watched everyone. Observed them, as if he were taking mental notes on the entire room. His father had always said that Jim would grow up to be very aware and very wise, and his dad was right. Born from a zero-gravity welder and a cleaner, Jim was raised comfortably but didn't have many luxurious, but enough food to keep him fed and enough clothes to keep him warm. For that he has always been grateful and used to give his parents portions of his wages as a child with a weekend job. When he was 18, Jim enrolled in the Terran Federation Naval Academy, or TFNA for short. There he excelled and was fast-tracked to Year Two. His abilities with a ship were unmatched and his leadership and mission skills thrusted him forward. During simulation runs with the other recruits, many of them would scramble to be under his command, easy points in the Year Tournaments, while others banded together to bring down the beloved Jameson. It was in the Academy that Jim earned his nickname, Merlin. Merlin had two meanings: one, it was the name of a specific falcon, the Merlin Falcon, which was famed for its speed and agility, much like Jim's boatsman displays many pointed out; and two, he was magic in a ship. It wasn't until he lost his arm that things started to go downhill. After a standard maintenance of the baradium chassis on his boat went wrong and rutted Merlin in the gut, he was fixed up and a week later was sent out in the same ship as a live exercise. The Rikari pirates were average pilots at best, but there were thirty of them against four naval cadets. By the time Jim was hit, the remaining three ships were heaving and spluttering, barely holding together. Bad intel had nearly cost them their lives as HQ had reported ten combatants. That was when a missile punched the side of the boat. The weak SBM1 missiles shouldn't have done anything to the side of the ship, it was a baradium chassis - the toughest material ever devised by the Terran Federation and a recipe the Kongi were desperate to get their hands on - with a baradium-diamond coating, lightweight and extremely tough. But the missile broke through and buckled the port-side wall, slamming the chassis against Jim's body. He pressed the missile button with his remaining hand and ordered a retreat from the battle before anyone else was seriously damaged as HQ were still deciding. After the first two ships had been hit, two of the pilots had requested a retreat but the had declined. After the third, another request was sent, even more urgently. Sick of the inaction by top-brass, Jim removed the squadron from the skirmish before he lost a friend or three. While knocked out from the medication, the doctors realised his entire forearm bone had been ground to dust by the impact. They amputated and when he woke up, Merlin discovered he was now missing a piece of his body. It was later discovered in an investigation that the chassis was poorly built, and the pressure on the left side of the frame kept causing the bars to buckle, allowing the missile to punch through. The final nail in the coffin for Jim's naval career was the death of his father. Throughout the years, Jim had been very close with has father, a man he respected and trusted very much. His mother had become loose and an addict, and his parents had drifted but never father and son. So when his graduation date was confirmed, Jim informed his father who took time off work to come and see the ceremony. On the trip to Earth from Jupiter, pirates attacked the ship and killed his father. Jim found out during the ceremony, at which point he realised that if the Terran Federation couldn't protect one of their own, never mind a civil servants family, how could he really give the rest of his life to this job? Jim walked off the stage and never looked back, wanted for arrest for desertion by the Terran Navy. He bought a ship and named it the Soaring Sparrow after the joke his father used to say about how he fly when he was a child in the trainee ships, quickly and abruptly, but he always knew what he was doing. Jim was his fathers own little Soaring Sparrow, and he never wanted to forget that. \|Extra\| Always carries a handgun, tucked away out of sight, as well as a knife.
23,870	688	12	1,555	729	Les mains rapides Kyo Peu importe ce que Rick ressentait à propos de la situation, Kyo savait qu'ils ne devraient vraiment pas rester pour que plus de gens se pointent. Elle a conduit l'homme brûlé au bar qui devait être leur rendez-vous. C'était comme beaucoup d'autres barres dans lesquelles elle s'était retrouvée, la puanteur de l'alcool et du tabac, les mécènes étant rameux, les requins-cartes cherchant des marques faciles, tout cela lui rappelait des moments plus simples. À l'époque, elle n'avait pas vraiment d'obligations, juste de sauter dans sa pension, de se saouler et parfois de se battre dans un bar pour s'amuser. Aujourd'hui était différent bien que son capitaine avait réussi à les mettre tous en difficulté, comme l'a démontré leur cuisinier/chef de charge Cestus assis blessé à la table. Elle a demandé à Rick de s'asseoir et de s'adresser à tout le monde. "Eh bien Cap, quoi que vous ayez fait a énervé quelqu'un. Quoi qu'il en soit, j'ai quelques boulots à régler. Les plus amusants sont quelques primes; le premier est un gars, passe par la poignée 'Eddy the Butcher', on dirait qu'il est troué quelque part sur le continent occidental de la planète ci-dessous, Praxis. Son vrai nom est Edmund Strickland, 42 ans, il a un rapsheet de la taille de mon bras et une armée de fous en train de garder sa cachette. Il y en a d'autres, mais celui-là est le plus proche. Ensuite, un petit travail de charité pour les Sœurs de Merci." Kyo a sorti un chit et l'a agité de façon séduisante. "Nous obtiendrons les détails si et quand nous acceptons mais en bout de ligne, c'est un concert de contrebande. Le chargement, légal ou non, est généralement assez ennuyeux, mais si je sais que les Sœurs celui-ci sera intéressant." Elle a remplacé le chit dans sa poche et a allumé une fumée. "C'est ce que j'ai. Personnellement, je préférerais frapper quelques têtes, mais honnêtement, les Sœurs payent beaucoup plus et nous ne faisons qu'un seul travail. » Conséquences Pendant ce temps, dans un autre secteur de l'espace. Un vaisseau vierge peint en or dérive paresseusement sur orbite d'une planète civilisée. À bord était un compliment complet de l'équipage en assortissant des combinaisons de saut avec un insigne qui lisait 'Einhowser Corporation'. Sur le pont de ce navire assis Jacob Einhowser avec sa sœur Juliet Einhowser dans ses genoux. L'officier des communications a parlé pour transmettre un message. "Monsieur, vous devriez lire ceci..." Jacob s'est mis en colère alors que Juliette essayait de se détendre et de se blottir avec son frère. -- Eh bien, crachez-le déjà. L'officier des communications a été silencieux pendant un moment. "Monsieur, il semble que votre père ait été tué à Harkon Station." Jacob s'est levé en jetant Juliette sur le sol du pont. "Quoi? Qui a fait ça? Je veux qu'ils soient morts!" L'officier des communications a braqué sur le ton du jeune homme. "Apparemment, c'était un accord qui a mal tourné avec quelqu'un du nom de Perch, un capitaine d'un navire corsaire." Juliet s'est finalement redressée et s'est accrochée à son frère. "Il a tué papa, ce salaud. Tracez un chemin jusqu'à la gare Harkon, maintenant!" L'équipage de la passerelle s'est empressé de respecter les ordres des frères et sœurs. Jacob prit Juliette une fois de plus et regarda profondément dans ses yeux. "Nous vengerons notre père, ma chère sœur. Je promets, je tuerai le capitaine Perch si c'est la dernière chose que je fais." Juliette se sentait faible aux genoux. "Oh frère, allons-y. Tuons ce salaud pour papa." Le navire aurifère est parti en orbite vers la porte de distorsion locale. Ils allaient bientôt intercepter le capitaine Perch et son équipage.	Quick-Hands Kyo “Death is what happens when you give up.” -Kyo Ueda T H E B A S I C S \|Name\| Kyo Ueda \|Birth Date\| 03.04.2329 \|Age\| 28 \|Species\| Human \|Gender\| Female A P P E A R A N C E \|In Depth Appearance\| Kyo is tough and toned from constant workouts and hard labor. She has jet black hair, smoky grey eyes and almond skin. She's almost always wearing her Federation Marine Corps longcoat with some combination of pants with suspenders, combat boots, tube top or tank top, and some leather fingerless gloves. \|Scars, Tattoos, Piercings\| Her left forearm is covered in an intricate tribal tattoo which she refuses to explain the meaning of. G E T T I N G T O K N O W M E \|Likes & Dislikes\| ✔Men ✔Women ✔Strong Drink ✔Good Food ✘Lazyness ✘Liars \|Habits\| Habitual Smoker (real tobbaco no substitutes) \|Fears\| ☠Dying alone ☠ D E L V I N G D E E P E R \|Personality\| ♦ Clever ♦ Educated ♦ Resourceful ♦ Sarcastic ♦ Kyo is a problem solver, when things need to get done she charges head first into it. She may appear reckless at first glance but that's just her style. Beneath her zeal is a quick-witted intelligent mind and a resourceful individual. Thinking outside the box is the norm here and conventional means are rarely her first choice. \|Place of Origin\| Titan, Sol System, Terran Federation \|History\| Kyo was born on Titan, Saturn's moon. She was orphaned before she can remember and grew up on the streets of the harsh desert towns. Although Titan was Terra-formed early in Terran expansion it never really reached the levels of some of the other colonies. It remains a barely hospitable wasteland where only the mining of precious minerals keeps the industry alive. Kyo found herself working in the mines when she was only 12 years old. On a heavily policed colony like the ones on Mars and Venus child labor was unheard of but on Titan it was a fact of life, either no law men were around to see it or they were quietly enjoying their bribes instead. It took Kyo six years to get out of the mines. She finally escaped by jamming a chisel into the foreman's head, stealing his money, and causing a riot. Using the confusion to get out, she stole a buggy and drove it all the way to the spaceport. she then used her stolen money to buy a fake passport and a ticket to Mars. Soon after her arrival on Mars she was recruited by the Terran Federation Marine Corps (TFMC). She breezed through training, as her rough childhood had prepared her for the worst, and soon she found herself serving with a 'Raider' unit, who specialized in boarding operations. A couple years of service and she was leading a Raider unit of her own. Finally it was time to re-enlist but something made her retire early. Perhaps she had grown tired of the military lifestyle, or having to fight on behalf of rich politicians. Regardless of the reason it was clearly time for a change. She wandered around Terran and Kongi space for a while hopping from different bars until she met a man by the name of Jim Perch. He had just bought his own ship, the Soaring Sparrow, and needed a first mate. For whatever reason, she decided to enlist and has served faithfully as the Captain's right hand ever since. \|Extra\| Stay out of her room unless invited and, most importantly, don't drink her bottle of Rikari Bloodwine.
23,871	688	13	369	78	Janet entra dans le bar, suivie de près par sa nouvelle connaissance qui portait le Cestus encore inconscient. Sa blessure avait cessé de saigner, ce qui, nous l'espérons, signifiait que son bandage improvisé fonctionnait, mais il avait manifestement encore besoin de soins médicaux. Il n'a pas fallu plus d'un coup d'œil à travers la pièce pour identifier la table de son capitaine et quelques-uns de ses compagnons d'équipage s'étaient détournés. L'androïde femelle, Cyl, si sa mémoire a bien servi, était évidemment en pleurs, la raison pour laquelle Janet ne pouvait deviner assis à côté d'elle. Jusqu'à présent, le capitaine n'avait pas fait grand-chose pour impressionner - du moins pas d'une manière positive. Impressionnant était seulement comment il avait réussi à obtenir lui-même, et probablement tous les autres, dans des problèmes qui rapidement et juste en vendant Nickel, une tâche généralement aussi banale que regarder une course d'escargot amateur. Pourtant, il semblait vraiment désolé ou assez préoccupé pour faire de son mieux pour réconforter Cyl - et bien il a essayé au moins. Juste en face d'eux, Andreas se tenait près de la table avec un, ce qu'elle interprétait comme, un regard perplexe sur son visage. Janet lui a fait remarquer : « C'est l'androïde que nous recherchons. » Le grand rikari l'a suivie jusqu'à la table. "Désolé d'interrompre Doc, mais Cestus a vraiment besoin de votre aide." Le rikari a soigneusement placé Cestus sur une chaise. "Monsieur, nous avons été attaqués, mais Cestus les a enlevés et pris une balle dans le processus. Je suis sûr qu'ils sont venus nous chercher à cause de ce que vous avez fait, sans offenser monsieur. Maintenant, excusez-moi un moment, j'ai promis à mon nouvel ami de boire un verre." Elle s'inclina vers l'androïde qui pleurait encore, "Cyl" et se détourna pour aller au bar. "Une bière, peu importe ce que veut ce gentilhomme reptilien et le verre que vous donneriez à un homme à qui vous devez la vie. Oh et faites-en un double." Le barman la fixa un moment avant qu'il ne se tourne vers le rikari pour prendre sa commande. "Comme d'habitude?", demanda-t-il. Il a eu un petit clin d'œil comme réponse, après quoi il est parti chercher les boissons. Finalement Janet se sentait un peu soulagée, Cestus était entre de bonnes mains et sur le point d'obtenir le meilleur verre sur cette station damnée. Il lui avait sauvé la vie sans même vraiment la connaître, qui parlait des volumes mais son personnage, mais Janet n'était pas vraiment sûre de ce qu'elle ressentait. Elle avait réussi à se présenter à son capitaine, sans s'esquiver de malédictions, bien qu'elle se fût sentie mieux autrement. "Merci." Elle a dit au rikari. « C'était gentil de votre part de nous aider, de toute évidence, tout le monde n'aurait pas fait la même chose, ou n'importe qui d'autre pour cela. » La créature comme un serpent lui sourit, d'une manière prédatrice. Le barman est revenu avec les boissons. Une bière, une double liqueur de couleur bronze-argent et un grand verre rempli de liquide vert et quelques morceaux junky. Heureusement, il a donné le vert au rikari. "Merci, le gars avec la veste va payer pour eux." Elle se sentait presque mal, comme elle l'avait indiqué à son capitaine, mais il lui avait fait une promesse et les deux autres l'avaient méritée. "C'était une vraie joie de vous rencontrer. Je suppose qu'on ne se reverra pas bientôt. Bon appétit et merci encore." Elle donna la main au rikari, qu'il secoua après l'avoir regardé une seconde, toujours souriant. Elle est revenue à la table juste à temps pour attraper les premiers camarades les dernières déclarations. Elle a placé la boisson de Cestus devant lui, a donné Glargh, qui avait l'air un peu secoué, un mot de bienvenue et s'est assise, sirotant sur sa bière. Quand personne ne semblait désireux de parler en premier, Janet a décidé de choisir d'abord: "Eithèrement, nous allons probablement nous faire tirer dessus et je préfère ne pas avoir des ennuis avec les autorités aussi, donc je suppose que je choisirais la prime. Bien que je puisse aller dans les deux sens, si le reste préfère éviter le feu pendant un certain temps. » Elle regarda Cestus et Andreas : « En parlant de ça, comment va-t-il, Doc? »	Janet „Bolt“ Lynch “It's broken, idiot. Let me fix it and get the f*** away from it.” - Janet Lynch T H E B A S I C S \|Name\| Janet Lynch \|Birth Date\| February 7th, 2325 \|Age\| 32 \|Species\| Human \|Gender\| Female A P P E A R A N C E \|In Depth Appearance\| Janet is 5'8ft. (1.73m) tall and has long hair which she keeps colored grey, like her eyes. She's athletically built with particularly strong hands. Her outfit consists usually of a tank top and a utility vest, where she keeps several tools in arms reach, cargo pants, which are equally useful in the tool holding department, military-style safety boots and welding goggles. The clothes, like herself, are often dirty and covered in oil. \|Scars, Tattoos, Piercings\| She has several scars and burn marks on her hands from years of working with heavy machinery. The fingers of her left hand have obviously been broken several times, additionally part of her face was burnt in an accident a few years back. A complex tattoo covers her upper left arm. G E T T I N G T O K N O W M E \|Job\| Engineer/Mechanic \|Likes & Dislikes\| ✔Working, tinkering and maintaining machinery ✔Weapons, unless pointed her way. ✔Space, the vast emptiness comforts her. ✔Authority, likes people who can take charge of a situation. ✔Expertise, when someone knows what he/she is doing. ✘Children, don't know what they are doing. ✘Politics, basically adult children arguing. ✘Laziness, doesn't get the job done. ✘Cucumber, who likes it anyway. \|Habits\| Ever since she left the military Janet has made a habit of keeping up a similar lifestyle to the one, she was following during her service. When she is not checking the systems or doing any essential work, she will maintain her equipment, tinker or work out to keep up her physical performance. In her years aboard numerous vessels, traveling across the galaxy, she picked up a rather foul manner of speaking, which she tries to keep down. It shows, however, anytime she's in a state of emotional distress, especially when annoyed or angered. \|Fears\| ☠Water, technically she fears the drowning aspect. ☠Captivity, literally and figuratively. D E L V I N G D E E P E R \|Personality\| ♦ Disciplined ♦ Reliable ♦ Vulgar ♦ Workaholic ♦ Janet identifies strongly with her work, since she has a passion for any kind of machinery, particularly space ships and weapons, to the point at which she often spends her free time tinkering and taking care of equipment. She tries to always perform at her best and follows given orders to the point, since Janet values the advantages of a solid order of command and especially a competent commander. She is however not a people pleaser and dislikes it when others "suck up" to their superiors. Janet may seem somewhat distant, due to her being taken up by her work quite a lot, but she does enjoy the company of others, as long as they don't stay between her and a malfunctioning engine. She likes, or at least approves of, people who manage to do their own job properly, and highly regards those who excel in their field of expertise, as long as she believes this expertise are of some value, unlike politics. \|Place of Origin\| Earth \|History\| Janet grew up in a middle-class family, her mother was a teacher and her father owned a small workshop, inside which she discovered her interest for moving metal at an early age and spent her youth taking apart and repairing all sort of machines and devices. She spent long nights tinkering and building improvised devices out of spare parts from her father's workshop and the nearby scrap yard. When she was 14, an uncle took her with him on a trip to all the big terran colonies. The experience of space travel lead her to pursue a career, which would allow her to spend her lifetime aboard massive ships, traveling the galaxy. When she was old enough, Janet signed up for five years of service in the terran military forces, as a combat engineer. Her training mostly consisted of learning how to repair, maintain and setup military equipment and vehicles, often under battle conditions. She also learned how to use a variety of weaponry, although she never excelled at using them, she nonetheless finds pleasure in working on them to this day, especially explosives. After her training she was sent on several missions on board a variety of ships. One such mission almost ended by her drowning in an ocean, after the ship she was on was shot down by pirates while in atmosphere, ever since this day she has, to her own shame, developed a fear of water. After these five years of service Janet wanted to find new challenges and worked on several civilian ships, ranging from transporters to scientific research vessels, always ready to jump aboard a new ship - a new challenge. Which lead her to her most recent job on board of a small space ship, named after a certain animal.
23,872	688	14	2,423	190	Glargh se tenait du bar, secouant la tête au concept de lutte contre les primes. "Sm-sm-sm-smugg-smuggle." Il a réussi à s'étouffer, à peine capable de parler. Il a placé ses doigts cicatrices dans son cou, sentant un léger début de saignement. Il s'est poussé du bar et s'est soutenu contre le mur du bâtiment. Il s'éloigna lentement de l'équipage, puis retourna vers le Bruant assourdissant. Il atteignit la baie d'amarrage et entra gentiment dans le navire, heureux d'être loin de la folie du bar. Il s'est acheté sur son lit, en s'emparant de la poitrine. Il pouvait ressentir une douleur horrible, comme si sa poitrine était en feu. Il toussait, du sang achetait sur son oreiller.	Glargh Blargh "Glargh Blargh” -Glargh Blargh T H E B A S I C S \|Name\| Rick McKendrick II \|Age\| 23/07/2326 \|Age\| 31 \|Race\| Terran \|Gender\| Male A P P E A R A N C E \|In Depth Appearance\| Glargh Blargh appears as a horribly scarred human. 3rd degree burns have solidified as scars over his entire body. A loose pile of skin flaps hangs from his neck, revealing a hole in his throat. His burns have left his skin a sickly green colour, with dashes of a pale orange throughout. Glargh has grey eyes, and all his hair has been burnt clean off. \|Scars, Tattoos, Piercings\| All of his skin is broken, cracked, scarred and burnt. G E T T I N G T O K N O W M E \|Likes & Dislikes\| ✔Mechanical Work, Quiet downtime, Pacifists, Long walks on the beach ✘Combat, mercenaries, mining stations, people who go out of their way to fight. \|Habits\| Glargh Blargh takes keen interest in all things mechanical, and will often stop to admire and pick apart things to understand how they work. Glargh is a keen reader, and the fastest way to his heart is to buy him old instruction manuals or Galactic Geographic Issues. \|Fears\| ☠Fuel ☠Being lonely D E L V I N G D E E P E R \|Personality\| ♦ Reliable ♦ Possessive ♦ Easily distracted ♦ Paranoid ♦ Rick McKendrick II was born with ADHD-PI, making it difficult for him to focus on difficult tasks. Because of the disorder, he is also prone to fits of anxiety, obsession and depression. The results of an experimental treatment designed to completely remove the disorder from the brain means that he also occasionally experiences hallucinations, sensory, auditory and visual. The accident left Glargh Blargh permanently paranoid of equipment malfunction, which has resulted in him devoting himself to ensuring everything, no matter where he may be, works as it should. His body is frail and weak, and as such he has no interest in fighting. He is likely to hide unless his friends are in grave danger, where he is willing to step in and protect them. He's basically a good old Lawful Good character. \|Place of Origin\| Earth \|History\| Born to the rich McKendrick merchant family, Rick struggled through his early years in his district's most expensive school. He was diagnosed with ADHD-PI when he was five. His father tried throwing money at the problem until it went away, but was unsatisfied with simply medicating the condition. He helped fund an experimental procedure which would be able to "cleanse" a brain of mental conditions. Unfortunately, the experiment merely resulted in Rick experiencing severe hallucinations. These are medicated with an experimental drug called Beaumaris. When he was 15, Rick accidentally missed several doses of Beaumaris and voices told him that his family planned to kill him. In his fit of paranoid, Rick ran away from home, stowing aboard a cargo container he believed would take him to Australia, not realising that the cargo was destined to be loaded on a spaceship. Rick found himself on the Kabul Mining Station, dedicated to drawing fuel from a nearby planet and refining it into fuel usable by spaceships. The young stowaway was taken under the wing of the chief maintenance officer, who mentored him in engineering and mechanical work while also protecting him from the station head who wanted Rick removed. 10 years into his stay, his mentor died and left Rick as the only qualified technician on the station. He gladly took up the role and was assigned with the job of training new employees in emergency patience procedures to prevent the now ageing station from going critical and exploding. He soon gained a position inspecting mechanical parts that are delivered to the station, which he then used to smuggle Beaumaris into Kabul. 5 years later, when Rick was thirty, the station was attacked by vicious pirates. They began massacring the station, and Rick was forced to hide in the main fuel shaft where he had been performing routine repairs. His personal scanner informed him that the rest of the station had already been killed, so Rick decided to take revenge on the pirates by rigging the fuel shaft to vent throughout the station. Rick successfully killed all the pirates by vending the raw, corrosive fuel. He was able to move through derelict station with a safety suit covering his body, giving him time to reach an escape pod. Unfortunately, the pod jettisoned itself with such force that Rick fell onto the control panel, cracking his visor. The lingering gas within the pod rushed into his suit, burning his entire body. He was barely able to remove the suit in time before he burnt to death. It was a miracle that Rick's body was able to survive the wounds it did. He is now covered in scars, and damage to his throat prevents him from saying his name. As such, he is known only by the most common pair of sounds he makes, "Glargh Blargh." \|Extra\| Saying anything more than grunts or strange audible sounds hurts Glargh's throat a lot. Please refrain from discussing philosophy with him. Even burnt, Glargh's mind is damaged. He still needs to take a Beaumaris tablet everyday, lest he end up going insane from the hallucinations.
23,873	689	0	2,337	153	Aujourd'hui a été une journée spéciale pour le MCS Lastimosa. L'équipage se préparait à l'opération spéciale 273, une attaque contre une usine de fabrication d'IMC Titan. Bien qu'il y en ait d'autres, c'est celui qui est le plus proche dans la région, et l'enlever rendrait la prise de la Frontière beaucoup plus facile. Il y avait des gens qui se préparaient, qui se souhaitaient bonne chance, qui faisaient des messages s'ils tombaient au combat, ce genre de choses. Une de ces préparations était Ryan Jäger, qui conversait avec sa sœur. "Je dis juste que le R-201 est bien mieux. Il a une plus grande portée et une très bonne précision." "Oui, mais le Spitfire a plus de dégâts et plus de munitions." "Il y a une chose sur laquelle nous pouvons nous mettre d'accord, qui est que le meilleur Anti-Titan est le..." "CHARGE RIFLE!" ils ont proclamé en même temps. Il y a eu un battement, puis ils ont tous les deux éclaté en riant. "Hah, c'est bon de voir qu'aucun de nous n'a changé." "Bon discours, sœurette. Va chercher des meurtres." Ils ont pris de l'altitude et sont partis dans leurs baies de chargement respectives. Les comms ont pris vie dans les cockpits de tous les Titans, contenant un message du commandant Sarah Briggs. "D'accord, écoutez. Opération spéciale 273, nous attaquons une base IMC sur Hadès. J'espère que cela mettra fin à la guerre dans ce secteur. C'est quelque chose de semblable qui a mis Pilot Cooper dans son Titan, donc si vous avez des protégés, ne mourez pas. Bonne chance." Et avec ça, les portes du navire s'ouvraient et les pinces lâchaient. Soudain, tout le monde vivait Titanfall à l'intérieur du Titan. Alors que tout le monde atterrissait, ils devaient travailler pour commencer à combattre les Titans ennemis, les Tones déployant leurs boucliers, les Northstars planant et sniving, et les Scorches remplissant la zone générale de thermite.	Name: Ryan Jäger Age: 27 Gender: Male Nationality: Harmonian Text Color: This is his text color. Rank: Lieutenant Height: 5'8" Weight: 185 lb Physical description: Fair skin Short blond hair Green eyes Scruffy beard Titan: Legion-class, Lima India-2686 (Li (lie) for short) Load-out R-97: Extra Ammo, Speedloader, HCOG Ranger Charge Rifle: Charge Hack Hammond P2016: Extra Ammo, Gunrunner Arc Grenade Grapple Hook Booster: Amped Weapons Personality/Attitude: Charming, heroic, quick to anger Skills/Talents: Pilot training, Favourites/Likes: LI-2686, parkour, knifing various things, sandwiches Most Hated/Dislikes: IMC, enemy Titans, getting rodeoed, stubbing his toe (hate that!) Goals/Ambitions: To climb the ranks of the SRS, win the freedom of the Frontier Strengths: Decent marksman, rodeos very reliably Weaknesses: Anger can blind him and make him make mistakes, endangering himself and others Fears: Losing to the IMC Hobbies/Interests: Running the Glitch Gauntlet (Note: has a sister named Rachel, who is also in the SRS)
23,874	689	1	1,720	397	Tu te fais tuer là-bas, et je vais te tuer moi-même, Savannah a dit qu'elle a lâché Cooper dans l'épaule. "Tu as promis de m'aider à libérer ma planète, et c'est le premier pas, Bucko. Je m'en fiche si je t'ai saoulé en enfer pour l'obtenir de toi! Allons raser ces connards!" Elle lui craignit un sourire alors qu'il se frottait l'épaule, mais aussi un sourire. Appelant un adieu, elle s'est tournée et a commencé à se diriger vers son Titan. Cooper a généralement chuté avec les 6-4 gars, tandis qu'elle et le reste du SRS réel a chuté d'une autre aile du hangar. En route vers son Titan, elle a traversé certains des hangars de gousses Grunt, en choisissant l'un d'eux en particulier. Attrapant le gars par son armure et le traînant sur le côté, beaucoup à l'amusement de ses coéquipiers, elle se tourna vers lui, sterne. "Tu n'es pas Cooper, je ne suis pas Lastimosa. Nous sommes ici pour nous battre, mais vous restez calme et recueilli, d'accord? Je ne t'ai pas entraîné à mourir, je t'ai entraîné à continuer le combat, quoi qu'il arrive. On finira ta dernière session avec le kit de saut à notre retour, mais je ne veux pas de ces conneries de héros de ta part. Tu restes en vie, cuz." En donnant à l'homme, qui était plus âgé qu'elle, une tape sur l'épaule, il lui a salué. Elle ne pouvait pas s'empêcher de rouler les yeux... il était bien plus près du livre qu'elle ne l'était. Quelques minutes plus tard, à environ une minute de la chute elle-même, elle sautait légèrement dans sa Légion, scintille des interrupteurs, l'alimente. "D'accord, Lucy, mets ton cul en marche. J'ai des bugs à faire." Réveillant le commandant de la Drop, le gars qui a choisi les gens qui ont chuté où, elle a entendu ses gémissements habituels pendant qu'il a ajusté son chemin de goutte à l'une des zones chaudes. Il n'a pas été recommandé de laisser tomber un Titan sur un autre Titan... mais Savvy avait eu cinq morts de Titanfall jusqu'à présent, et avait l'intention de prolonger la série.	Name: Savannah “Savvy” Vallerie Severence Gender: Female Nationality: What. Allegiance: Militia Age: 30 Rank: O3 Captain, Gen-3 Pilot Level: Adept-level Seeker Pilot Pilot Kit: Grappling Hook (Modified: faster hook shot and rewind) Physical Information Height: 5' 10" Weight: 177 lbs. Eye color: Green Hair color: Blonde Personal Information Personality/Attitude: Gun-ho, Reckless, Rebellious, Hands-on Skills/Talents: CQC, Marksmanship, Squad Tactics, Interrogation, Guerrilla Tactics Favourites/Likes: Toasted foods, oranges, explosions, disrespecting one's enemies, killing someone with their own weapon, deadly ladies with pretty hair, cats, puppers Most Hated/Dislikes: Responsibility/Command over more than a squad, those who assume command, commanding officers who haven't earned her respect, the IMC, APEX Predator members, "Timey-whimey bullshit", bugs, reptiles Goals/Ambitions: Crush the IMC and the APEX underneath her steel Titan legs, take back her rural homeworld, and help rebuild it. Strengths: Combat, torture resistance and interrogation, willpower/fortitude, unyielding. Weaknesses: Bloodthirsty- Merciless and unyielding, she can cross the line and not care one tiny bit. Berserker- if properly provoked, she'll go on a rampage that only breaking things or the closest of friends can stop. Fatalistic- fully expects to die in the war, and thus intends to do as much damage as possible, without nearly as much regard for personal safety. Fears: Failing to contribute to the freeing of the former Militia planets, failing to beat the IMC, failing to kill "that asshole who leads APEX", and REAPERS. Because Reapers are the ones that nearly killed her, years before, and killed her entire family, on a small colony world on the Miltia-IMC border. Hobbies/Interests: Training. Eating oranges. Making panini sandwiches. Hanging out with grunts. Learning skills related to rebuilding and colonizing planets. Titan Titan Class: LEGION Titan Identification: LC-4533T6 (Lima Charlie #4533 Tier 6) “Lil’ Lucy” Miscellaneous: Carries a Ronin Prime Longsword (Stolen, APEX), has multiple spotlights mounted on shoulders, upper arms, and the sides of torso, audio speakers are mounted next to those spotlights. API-HV: Armor Piercing Incendiary High Velocity 15mmx116mm = tungsten-skinned rounds with ballistic-capped tips and incendiary explosives inside for armor-piercing fiery damage. Note: incendiary charges are different from thermite. Essentially just a tiny burst of fire and shrapnel, good for shredding hydraulic hoses, electronics, etc. VERY good against moderately armored critical spots. HEAT-HV: High Explosive Anti-Titan High Velocity 15mmx116mm = thin depleted uranium sleeve with an explosive charge and a tungsten penetrator, high velocity. Hits like an antimaterial round and explodes for maximum damage to lighter armor or exposed critical systems. Armament Primary Weapon: Double-Take Secondary Weapon: RE .45 Handgun Tertiary Weaponry: Archer Missile Launcher 3 Frags 3 Arcs Abilities Booster: Phase Shift Rewind Kit: Grapple Upgrades: Speakers and personal music system Misc: Data Knife, modern mobile device + fucktons of music via remote broadcasting to connected devices.
23,875	689	2	687	318	Alms a traversé le vaisseau. Les appels pour Titanfall étaient venus et il avait été forcé de terminer son travail. Courant maintenant, Alms a fait son chemin vers les hangars. Rapidement, il passa à Severence et à son Titan. Bien sûr, à cause d'un accident de malheur, son titan était juste à côté du sien. Madrys était debout, silencieux et solennel. Son cockpit était toujours fermé car les mécaniciens de bord savaient qu'Alms les tuerait s'ils ouvraient son Titan. "Il est temps de tomber, Madrys." Une voix douce et mécanique s'est échappée des haut-parleurs de la gorge d'Alms. Tirant son ordinateur, Alms a commencé à ouvrir le béhémoth. Un ensemble d'escaliers a été placé à la distance parfaite de sa fosse. En les grimpant, les traces d'acier d'Alms résonnèrent dans tout le hangar. Sa forme BRD-01 a fait son entrée dans les commandes de Madrys. Devenant à l'aise, ALms s'est assuré lui-même. Brancher ses propres cordes dans son panneau de contrôle, Madrys est devenu quelque chose d'une extension de lui-même. « Réveillez-vous et brûlez », les yeux bleus électriques ont pris vie alors que Madrys se tenait à sa pleine hauteur, devenant facilement l'un des plus hauts Titans du hangar. Son cockpit s'est fermé sur le corps d'Alms. Les lumières bleues s'éteignent de ses LEDs, Alms allume les communications. "Séverence, vous m'entendez? Assurez-vous que ce n'est que vous qui descendez dans ce trou de mort. Je ne veux pas répéter ce qui s'est passé il y a un mois.» En faisant connaître ses griefs à son capitaine, Alms a pris contact avec l'équipe de largage. "Hé, déposez-moi à environ un kilomètre du conflit. Tu me connais, je vais tirer un coup et garder un oeil sur Severence." Alms a rapidement vérifié son armement. Madrys avait son fusil de sniper attaché à son dos, une épée sur sa hanche, et un poignard sur sa poitrine. L'air a été poussé hors de la gorge d'Alms alors qu'il s'appuyait sur le dos. Ça allait être amusant.	Each character's rank in U.S. Navy rankings (Army in parentheses), updated as positions change Commander (Lieutenant Colonel): Militia Frederick Alms Lieutenant Commander (Major): Militia Savannah Severence, IMC Lucas Cross Lieutenant (Captain): Militia Ryan Jäger, Militia James Praetor
23,876	689	3	1,720	397	Verrouiller et brancher son portable à une petite fente qu'elle a installée sur le mur, elle a mis une playlist à une belle musique instrumentale- le type utilisé dans les films quand les héros se sont présentés pour la bataille du patron final, par exemple. Elle a flippé à travers les options, a sélectionné le favori avec lequel elle voulait commencer, et l'a mis pour commencer à jouer le moment où elle a touché vers le bas. Elle détestait les pilotes qui étaient basés dans un châssis semblable à celui de Reapers, même si ses sentiments envers la personne elle-même étaient complètement différents. Dans le cas d'Alms, elle détestait lui parler en personne. "Roger ça, Reaper-man. Mais tu sais ce qu'on dit, Alms. Une bagarre d'un jour éloigne l'IMC - des mots sages à vivre, dans mon livre." La citation était en fait directement de son livre, donc bien sûr ce serait des mots sages pour elle. "Le sniping est pour les grand-mères, de toute façon, donc vous êtes bien adapté. Je les prends tous!" Son excitation et son rage habituels se mêlent à sa voix, bafouant l'anxiété d'avant la bataille. Avec le bouton pour préparer son Titanfall, elle a fait un scan mental sur les systèmes de Lucy. Réacteur nucléaire purifiant comme un chaton, munitions pleines chargées et sécurisées, épée verrouillée sur sa gaine magnétique sur l'endroit où son cul serait, s'il était le Titan. Le Titan s'est légèrement trempé pendant que les pinces la retenaient pour Titanfall, puis la gravité s'est évanouie lorsque les boucliers thermiques de chute atmosphérique ont été verrouillés sur le châssis, et ont tiré explosivement sur la planète.	Name: Savannah “Savvy” Vallerie Severence Gender: Female Nationality: What. Allegiance: Militia Age: 30 Rank: O3 Captain, Gen-3 Pilot Level: Adept-level Seeker Pilot Pilot Kit: Grappling Hook (Modified: faster hook shot and rewind) Physical Information Height: 5' 10" Weight: 177 lbs. Eye color: Green Hair color: Blonde Personal Information Personality/Attitude: Gun-ho, Reckless, Rebellious, Hands-on Skills/Talents: CQC, Marksmanship, Squad Tactics, Interrogation, Guerrilla Tactics Favourites/Likes: Toasted foods, oranges, explosions, disrespecting one's enemies, killing someone with their own weapon, deadly ladies with pretty hair, cats, puppers Most Hated/Dislikes: Responsibility/Command over more than a squad, those who assume command, commanding officers who haven't earned her respect, the IMC, APEX Predator members, "Timey-whimey bullshit", bugs, reptiles Goals/Ambitions: Crush the IMC and the APEX underneath her steel Titan legs, take back her rural homeworld, and help rebuild it. Strengths: Combat, torture resistance and interrogation, willpower/fortitude, unyielding. Weaknesses: Bloodthirsty- Merciless and unyielding, she can cross the line and not care one tiny bit. Berserker- if properly provoked, she'll go on a rampage that only breaking things or the closest of friends can stop. Fatalistic- fully expects to die in the war, and thus intends to do as much damage as possible, without nearly as much regard for personal safety. Fears: Failing to contribute to the freeing of the former Militia planets, failing to beat the IMC, failing to kill "that asshole who leads APEX", and REAPERS. Because Reapers are the ones that nearly killed her, years before, and killed her entire family, on a small colony world on the Miltia-IMC border. Hobbies/Interests: Training. Eating oranges. Making panini sandwiches. Hanging out with grunts. Learning skills related to rebuilding and colonizing planets. Titan Titan Class: LEGION Titan Identification: LC-4533T6 (Lima Charlie #4533 Tier 6) “Lil’ Lucy” Miscellaneous: Carries a Ronin Prime Longsword (Stolen, APEX), has multiple spotlights mounted on shoulders, upper arms, and the sides of torso, audio speakers are mounted next to those spotlights. API-HV: Armor Piercing Incendiary High Velocity 15mmx116mm = tungsten-skinned rounds with ballistic-capped tips and incendiary explosives inside for armor-piercing fiery damage. Note: incendiary charges are different from thermite. Essentially just a tiny burst of fire and shrapnel, good for shredding hydraulic hoses, electronics, etc. VERY good against moderately armored critical spots. HEAT-HV: High Explosive Anti-Titan High Velocity 15mmx116mm = thin depleted uranium sleeve with an explosive charge and a tungsten penetrator, high velocity. Hits like an antimaterial round and explodes for maximum damage to lighter armor or exposed critical systems. Armament Primary Weapon: Double-Take Secondary Weapon: RE .45 Handgun Tertiary Weaponry: Archer Missile Launcher 3 Frags 3 Arcs Abilities Booster: Phase Shift Rewind Kit: Grapple Upgrades: Speakers and personal music system Misc: Data Knife, modern mobile device + fucktons of music via remote broadcasting to connected devices.
23,877	689	4	2,128	809	James était déjà sur le pont Titan alors que l'appel aux armes sonnait, travaillant avec les mécaniciens et les MRVN comme ils ont affiné quelques ajustements de dernière minute à Kilo Novembre 7620, ou juste Kilo pour court. Tandis que la voix toujours reconnaissable du commandant Briggs sonnait au-dessus de la brume, le pilote patte l'épaule de l'ingénieur en chef, et on lui répond avec un clin d'œil affirmatif alors que lui et son équipe resserrent le dernier des boulons et des vis, en sécurisant toutes les parties lâches et en plaquant en place. Aucun mot n'a été prononcé entre les hommes et les femmes autour de la machine de guerre, mais un accord silencieux a été trouvé. Alors que le capitaine James Praetor montait son Titan, il regardait les autres machines autour du pont et celles qui conduisaient avec eux, les partenaires de la chair et du sang des géants de l'acier... et le Spectre avec un esprit humain. Des exceptions à chaque règle, je suppose. Il a vu une large gamme de Chassises Titan, la plupart étant le Gen 2 comme les Légions de Jäger et de Severence et même un Stryder du Gen 1 fortement modifié qui semblait tenu ensemble par le ruban adhésif et l'entêtement pur. Kilo a été parmi les quelques Gén 3, développé indépendamment, de classe Vanguard Titans à bord, un qui a été associé avec le commandant Briggs elle-même. James secoua la tête, dissipant ses muses alors qu'il s'asseyait dans le cockpit de Kilo et scellait l'écoutille. Il n'a pas pris la peine de participer à un bavardage pré-drop ; il ne savait pas que tout le monde dans ce hangar allait le faire revivre, pourquoi gaspiller l'énergie pour connaître quelqu'un qui pourrait mourir sur ce rocher et devenir une autre statistique incroyable? Il a entendu le briefing vague de Brigg alors qu'il a vérifié les systèmes de Kilo pour une dernière fois, en revérifiant le Wingman Elite à sa cuisse et le Flatline stocké à ses côtés avant de vérifier verbalement son Titan. "Kilo, mise à jour du système." « Tous les systèmes fonctionnent à une efficacité nominale. Je suis prêt pour le déploiement à tout moment" "Compris. C'est ce que j'aime entendre... Je suis prêt pour Titanfall." Avec l'assurance de Kilo, James s'est penché sur son siège et a serré son emprise sur les commandes alors qu'il attendait la chute soudaine qui était Titanfall. Il est venu sans avertissement, l'élan soudain et puis l'apesanteur, suivi par la sensation de jarring du contact avec le sol. Secouant la tête pour dégager le léger coup de fouet, il manipula les commandes de manière à ce que Kilo saisit son canon à chaîne XO-16 et le prépare au combat. Encore une fois à la brèche...	Name: James Praetor Age: 28 Gender: Male Nationality: Y-44 Colonist Text Color: Purple Height: 5'11" Weight: 170lb (77kg) Physical description: Slim but well-trained body type, dishevelled brown hair, hetero-chromatic eyes Personality/Attitude: Calm and Level-headed, but cold and distant. Skills/Talents: -Effective Field Tactician -Competent Marksman -Skilled CQC Fighter Favourites/Likes: Chess, Reading, Classical Music, Dogs Most Hated/Dislikes: Invasions of privacy, tyrants, Jazz Goals/Ambitions: To find out what happened to his fiance; rescue her if she's still alive and avenge her if not. Strengths: -Focussed -Intelligent -Ruthless Weaknesses: -Can be distracted by personal matters -Has difficulty being sympathetic -Cold and blunt mannerisms Fears: Losing his fiance/Being unable to rescue her. Hobbies/Interests: Piano, Violin, Handgun Marksmanship, Chess Preferred Weapons: -Ordinance: Firestars, Electric Smoke -Primary: Flatline (Threat Scope, Extended Ammo), Kraber (Threat Scope, Extended Ammo) -Sidearm: Wingman Elite (Speedloader, Ricochet) Gear Appearance -Militia BRP Gear, similar to Cpt. Lastimosa and Jack Cooper Rank -Captain, Gen 3 Callsign: Kilo November-7620 Class: Vanguard (Expo Kit, Preferred) Paint: Purple Fade (technically a Camo for the R-97 but it looks cool) Emblem: 'The Prowler'
23,878	689	5	687	318	Les épaules d'Alms tremblaient alors qu'il s'appuyait sur le dos. Il a été promu commandant récemment, ce qui l'a irrité. Alms n'avait jamais eu l'intention de devenir un leader. Il n'était qu'un mécanicien, il l'a toujours été, il le sera toujours. Cependant, la Frontière avait décidé différemment. La console de Madrys a commencé à briller dans une lumière bleue alors que sa voix parlait dans les circuits d'Alms. "Freddy! On va tomber aujourd'hui? Où est-il? Qui est-ce?" Ses questions se sont éteintes rapidement. Madrys était comme un enfant. Eh bien, en réalité c'était quelque chose d'un euphémisme. Pour Alms, Madrys était sa fille. Pas sa vraie fille, bien sûr. Elle était morte il y a longtemps. "Calmez Madrys. Nous sommes en train de tomber aujourd'hui, sur Hadès. IMC, qui d'autre?" Alms est rapidement passé par un scan manuel des systèmes. En vérifiant les jauges qui couvraient l'intérieur du cockpit de Madrys, Alms lui a donné le coup d'envoi. En retournant ses communications, Alms a fait un bref exposé à ses hommes. "Jager, vous m'entendez?" La voix mécanique d'Alms s'est répandue sur les communications comme il l'a appelé à l'un des utilisateurs les plus prometteurs de la Légion. "Drop sur la frange, puis pousser vers l'intérieur. Si un Ronin ou Ion monte, tu t'en vas. Compris?" Alms aimait le jeune homme, étonnamment, et ne voulait pas le perdre à un crackpot IMC Titan. "Séverence, tu es le suivant." Attirant son attention, Alms appela son commandant en second. "Ne sois pas idiot. Tu tombes sur un titan, puis tu t'en vas. Regroupez-vous avec Jager. Garde son dos comme il garde le tien. Ne pas," Alms a pris un souffle rapide comme il se rappelait ce qui s'est passé sur leur dernière goutte. "Ne restez pas dans la mêlée. On t'a presque perdu, alors, et je ne veux pas recommencer. » En passant à son prochain soldat, Alms a appelé Praetor. "Praetor. Jetez-vous derrière Jager. Je veux que tu le couvres comme une Légion jusqu'à ce que Severence se regroupe avec vous tous. Après qu'elle soit arrivée à Jager, je veux que vous procédiez avec des tactiques. Bouffer en allers et retours entre déchirer à travers les ennemis et être derrière les deux Légions. Pas d'héroïques." Heureusement, Alms n'avait pas grand-chose à craindre avec Praetor. Le jeune homme était cool-tête et calculatrice. En tant que tel, Praetor a généralement suivi les ordres, et quand il n'a pas, de meilleurs résultats sont généralement sortis de celui-ci. "Je tomberai à environ un demi-mille derrière toi. Je serai assez proche pour m'aider au besoin, tout en étant assez loin pour profiter de mes propres compétences. » Alms s'est déplacé dans son siège, un son léger a diffusé sur les communications comme il l'a fait cependant. « Enfin, je ne sais pas tout et je ne sais pas ce qui se passe devant vous trois. Si la situation change et que je ne vous donne pas d'ordres directs, alors réagissez comme bon vous semble. Sévère, si ça arrive, alors c'est ton boulot de te faire sortir, Jager et Praetor. N'essayez pas de rester dans la bataille, reculez dès que cela devient dangereux. » Dès qu'il a fini de parler, l'appel pour Titanfall a sonné. Immédiatement, le hangar sous Madrys s'est ouvert. Puis la chute a commencé. Alms aimait ce sentiment d'apesanteur, et Madrys aussi. Le Titan riait alors qu'elle tombait sur Hadès. Réveille-toi et brûle, Hadès. Réveille-toi et brûle.	Each character's rank in U.S. Navy rankings (Army in parentheses), updated as positions change Commander (Lieutenant Colonel): Militia Frederick Alms Lieutenant Commander (Major): Militia Savannah Severence, IMC Lucas Cross Lieutenant (Captain): Militia Ryan Jäger, Militia James Praetor
23,879	689	6	1,720	397	Severence a claqué sa langue dans l'ennui. Poussez-vous si ça devient dangereux, elle a imité sa tête, se moquant. Oui, parce que le combat n'était normalement pas aussi dangereux. Elle a respecté le Spectre-Commander de plusieurs façons... mais quand c'est devenu dangereux, ça ne fera qu'empirer si tu commences à courir. Si Cooper peut sortir quelques dizaines de Titans tout seul avec ce châssis plus léger, alors elle peut en sortir certains sur elle-même aussi. La rentrée a rattrapé et secoué le Titan, ayant été projeté d'une orbite basse au sol. Fermant les yeux alors qu'ils s'approchaient de la goutte, elle murmura à elle-même. "Cinq... quatre... trois... deux..." Comme elle était sur le point de brouiller le dernier nombre, un cri d'oreilles et un boom roulant tonnaient sur le champ de bataille, la Légion ayant coupé un Titan de classe Tone à l'arrière, en déclenchant son réacteur et son autodestruction. À ses pieds, les yeux ouverts maintenant, la Légion peinte en rouge s'est redressée et a dégonflé le mini-gun de 15 mm alimenté à la ceinture. Normalement, il fallait des magazines de grande capacité, mais elle avait demandé à Alms de réparer ça. C'était susceptible de dysfonctionnement si elle prenait de gros dégâts, mais elle pouvait toujours voler l'arme d'un autre titan si c'était le cas. En arpentant le champ de bataille, elle a découvert qu'ils se battaient en terrain ouvert à côté d'une falaise assez soudaine- et près d'elle, une formation rocheuse qui s'enroule dans le ciel. Avant que les Titans hostiles puissent réagir à leur présence et déchaîner l'enfer, elle s'en est tournée et sprintée, un endroit à utiliser comme couverture pendant que son Bouclier Gun était hors ligne.	Name: Savannah “Savvy” Vallerie Severence Gender: Female Nationality: What. Allegiance: Militia Age: 30 Rank: O3 Captain, Gen-3 Pilot Level: Adept-level Seeker Pilot Pilot Kit: Grappling Hook (Modified: faster hook shot and rewind) Physical Information Height: 5' 10" Weight: 177 lbs. Eye color: Green Hair color: Blonde Personal Information Personality/Attitude: Gun-ho, Reckless, Rebellious, Hands-on Skills/Talents: CQC, Marksmanship, Squad Tactics, Interrogation, Guerrilla Tactics Favourites/Likes: Toasted foods, oranges, explosions, disrespecting one's enemies, killing someone with their own weapon, deadly ladies with pretty hair, cats, puppers Most Hated/Dislikes: Responsibility/Command over more than a squad, those who assume command, commanding officers who haven't earned her respect, the IMC, APEX Predator members, "Timey-whimey bullshit", bugs, reptiles Goals/Ambitions: Crush the IMC and the APEX underneath her steel Titan legs, take back her rural homeworld, and help rebuild it. Strengths: Combat, torture resistance and interrogation, willpower/fortitude, unyielding. Weaknesses: Bloodthirsty- Merciless and unyielding, she can cross the line and not care one tiny bit. Berserker- if properly provoked, she'll go on a rampage that only breaking things or the closest of friends can stop. Fatalistic- fully expects to die in the war, and thus intends to do as much damage as possible, without nearly as much regard for personal safety. Fears: Failing to contribute to the freeing of the former Militia planets, failing to beat the IMC, failing to kill "that asshole who leads APEX", and REAPERS. Because Reapers are the ones that nearly killed her, years before, and killed her entire family, on a small colony world on the Miltia-IMC border. Hobbies/Interests: Training. Eating oranges. Making panini sandwiches. Hanging out with grunts. Learning skills related to rebuilding and colonizing planets. Titan Titan Class: LEGION Titan Identification: LC-4533T6 (Lima Charlie #4533 Tier 6) “Lil’ Lucy” Miscellaneous: Carries a Ronin Prime Longsword (Stolen, APEX), has multiple spotlights mounted on shoulders, upper arms, and the sides of torso, audio speakers are mounted next to those spotlights. API-HV: Armor Piercing Incendiary High Velocity 15mmx116mm = tungsten-skinned rounds with ballistic-capped tips and incendiary explosives inside for armor-piercing fiery damage. Note: incendiary charges are different from thermite. Essentially just a tiny burst of fire and shrapnel, good for shredding hydraulic hoses, electronics, etc. VERY good against moderately armored critical spots. HEAT-HV: High Explosive Anti-Titan High Velocity 15mmx116mm = thin depleted uranium sleeve with an explosive charge and a tungsten penetrator, high velocity. Hits like an antimaterial round and explodes for maximum damage to lighter armor or exposed critical systems. Armament Primary Weapon: Double-Take Secondary Weapon: RE .45 Handgun Tertiary Weaponry: Archer Missile Launcher 3 Frags 3 Arcs Abilities Booster: Phase Shift Rewind Kit: Grapple Upgrades: Speakers and personal music system Misc: Data Knife, modern mobile device + fucktons of music via remote broadcasting to connected devices.
23,880	689	7	2,337	153	Bien reçu, commandant. Il a démantelé son Predator Cannon et scanné le terrain, qui s'est avéré libre des Titans ennemis ou des Pilotes. Il a eu des bagarres avec des infanteries rapidement dépêchées. "Vous vous demandez ce qui arrive à la famille de l'infanterie IMC? Tu crois qu'ils leur donnent des soins gratuits? Dentaire? Une compensation de dix mille dollars? » « Cette question a été posée à IMC P.O.W.s. Ils ont dit que l'IMC compense la famille avec un chèque égal à toute la rémunération que la personne décédée a gagnée au service de l'IMC. La plupart du temps, les victimes sont très nouvelles, et n'ont pas beaucoup payé, donc la famille ne reçoit pas plus de deux, peut-être trois mille dollars. C'est l'une des raisons pour lesquelles la Milice est meilleure. Nous compensons avec l'assurance maladie, les soins dentaires et les frais de scolarité gratuits à l'un des plusieurs collèges de la Milice sur l'Harmonie. » "D'accord, j'ai compris. Je n'allais pas changer de camp, j'étais juste curieux, Jésus." Cette conversation s'est poursuivie alors que Ryan se dirigeait vers l'établissement. "Pilot, l'ennemi Titan a détecté à notre gauche. La prudence est conseillée." Directement après cela, Ryan a commencé son Power Shot alors qu'il tournait autour, visait dans la direction générale de "gauche", a tiré le coup, et vidé le magazine jusqu'à ce qu'il ait rechargé trois fois. "Titane à terre. Excellent travail, Jäger." "Est-ce que j'ai entendu ce sarcasme?" Il s'est interrogé lorsqu'il a quitté le cockpit et s'est caché. Quand il est arrivé au Titan, il s'est détaché. "Liiiiii! On en a déjà parlé! Quand vous trouvez une Brute, dites simplement "Brute détecté"! Vous dites la prudence conseillée pour Ronins et Ions! Tu le dis pour les monarques, pas pour Brutes! On en a déjà parlé!" "Remercié. A partir de maintenant, si l'ennemi est une Brute, je dirai, "Brute détecté." Ils continuèrent vers l'usine, en dépêchant des ennemis lorsqu'ils les rencontrèrent. Comme ils l'ont fait, ils verraient des éclairs de rouge entre les constructions. Lorsqu'ils arrivèrent à une clairière, ils le virent une fois de plus se diriger vers Alms et Madrys. "Commander Alms, confirmez. Titan pourrait se diriger vers votre emplacement. Surveillez-vous, c'est fini." il a radioné à son commandant lorsque l'écoutille s'est ouverte. Il a sorti son R-97 et l'a tenu à l'œil. Le champ HCOG s'est activé et a zoomé sur sa cible. "Oh, merde! C'est un monarque! Alms, vous me recevez? Il y a un monarque qui se dirige vers votre position avec 115 morts! Je répète, un monarque avec 115 morts se dirige vers votre position! Je crois que c'est un pilote très expérimenté! Je suis à la poursuite, mais je me prépare à me battre!"	Name: Ryan Jäger Age: 27 Gender: Male Nationality: Harmonian Text Color: This is his text color. Rank: Lieutenant Height: 5'8" Weight: 185 lb Physical description: Fair skin Short blond hair Green eyes Scruffy beard Titan: Legion-class, Lima India-2686 (Li (lie) for short) Load-out R-97: Extra Ammo, Speedloader, HCOG Ranger Charge Rifle: Charge Hack Hammond P2016: Extra Ammo, Gunrunner Arc Grenade Grapple Hook Booster: Amped Weapons Personality/Attitude: Charming, heroic, quick to anger Skills/Talents: Pilot training, Favourites/Likes: LI-2686, parkour, knifing various things, sandwiches Most Hated/Dislikes: IMC, enemy Titans, getting rodeoed, stubbing his toe (hate that!) Goals/Ambitions: To climb the ranks of the SRS, win the freedom of the Frontier Strengths: Decent marksman, rodeos very reliably Weaknesses: Anger can blind him and make him make mistakes, endangering himself and others Fears: Losing to the IMC Hobbies/Interests: Running the Glitch Gauntlet (Note: has a sister named Rachel, who is also in the SRS)
23,881	689	8	684	120	Lucas pouvait se rappeler il y a plus de cinq ans, quand le pire qu'ils devaient s'inquiéter de la Milice était des frappes de guérilla et des raids, frappant des avant-postes ou des cargos nouvellement établis tout en tentant de capturer des titans. Depuis Demeter, la Milice s'est montrée audacieuse, confiante dans sa capacité et sa suprématie de la Frontière, ciblant maintenant des installations de fabrication comme celle-ci bien défendues. Maintenant, ils devaient tous être durcis, avec la majorité des installations installées sous terre, comme un bunker, et avec de nombreuses mesures défensives tout au long. L'alarme avait été appelée il n'y a même pas une heure, et déjà Lucas était adapté et à l'intérieur de son titan. L'installation était facilement capable de produire des titans à la volée, et contenant plus qu'assez de pièces de rechange pour les réparations, ce qui signifie que tant que les pilotes ont joué en sécurité, ils pourraient se retirer pour revenir avec un nouveau titan plus tard. Dans une bataille d'attrition, l'IMC détenait l'avantage ici, mais Lucas savait que la milice ne frapperait pas s'ils ne se sentaient pas confiants dans leur capacité à les submerger. Cela signifiait que les parties d'ouverture de cette bataille seraient cruciales, car chaque minute supplémentaire qu'ils tiendraient permettrait à l'élan d'évoluer toujours plus en faveur de l'IMC. Les soldats et les spectres se déployaient déjà sur des lignes défensives humaines, et il entendait le bruit d'incendies antiaériens qui se chevauchaient pour remplir l'air d'incendie et d'acier alors qu'ils tentaient d'intercepter les arrivées de Titanfall. Lucas était le chef de son propre petit escadron de titans, allant de l'avant avec plusieurs autres escadrons pour tenter une contre-offensive pour émouvoir l'avance de la Milice, à seulement quelques pas des lignes défensives derrière eux, déjà engagés avec les forces d'escarmouches. Leur avance n'a pas encore rencontré de résistance de la Milice, qui a laissé l'équipe sur le bord, plus que s'ils avaient déjà échangé le feu. Cette tension a été brisée quand quelqu'un a appelé en avertissement à la radio, "Titanfall, entrant! Mumford, fais gaffe!" Tous les yeux se sont tournés vers le haut comme des titans brûlés dans l'atmosphère, d'une manière ou d'une autre non mus par le feu anti-air qui les suivait, et se sont claqués dans le sol comme des météores tout autour d'eux. Un, une Légion peinte en rouge, coupant le dos d'une Tone qui avait pris le dessus, et l'emmenant en un instant. La Légion se déploie, ne semblant prendre que les plus brefs moments pour arpenter ses environs avant de la réserver vers un affleurement rocheux comme elle cherchait à se couvrir. "Toutes les unités, retournez le feu! Poussez-les!" La voix a de nouveau été barrée, et des rondes ont immédiatement été échangées entre les forces de l'IMC et de la Milice. Lucas a maudit, soulevant le fusil de son monarque pour tirer sur la Légion qui avait fait une course pour elle, des rondes marquant quelques coups éblouissants, mais il a été forcé de s'écarter alors que plusieurs autres titans de la Milice se sont rapidement aperçus sur son châssis, raflant son bouclier jusqu'à ce qu'il le recharge en tirant sur une poutre qui a sapé l'énergie d'un Ion adverse. Comme bon titan le monarque était, il a certainement peint un enfer de cible du dos de Lucas. Un autre Titanfall au loin a attiré son attention, un peu plus loin des combats. Lucas clignait alors qu'il regardait le titan en question se lever à ses pieds, et il s'est rapidement agrandi dessus. Au début, il semblait être un Stryder fortement modifié, mais comme la poussière s'est installée, Lucas ne pouvait être pris à reculons que par la vue de lui. "Est-ce... un Madrys?" Les Madrys ont été conçus il y a des décennies et n'étaient jamais entrés dans la phase de production. Il n'y avait qu'une seule personne connue pour piloter une... Il a tordu le coin de sa bouche en un piège sous son casque. "Simulacrum, je ne sais pas quand mourir..." il a murmuré. Si cet homme était resté par terre la première fois qu'il avait été mis à terre, il ne serait pas une telle épine du côté de l'IMC. Les pilotes étaient presque universellement reconnus comme étant les meilleurs des meilleurs, mais même parmi les pilotes, il y avait ceux qui excellaient et dépassaient leurs pairs. As parmi les as, et parmi eux était un homme mort nommé Fredrick Alms. Il devait descendre, maintenant. "Couvre-moi!" Il a appelé ses hommes, avant de pointer un doigt vers les Madry au loin. "Je m'en vais après celui-là!" Sans attendre la confirmation, il s'éloigne rapidement des combats, en boucle autour de l'escarmouche alors qu'il fait un tiret de la couverture à la couverture et se dirige aussi vite qu'il est capable vers sa cible.	Name: Lucas Cross Age: 33 Gender: Male Nationality: Core Systems Text Color: "The hell are you talking about?" Rank: Lieutenant Commander Height: 5'10" Weight: 180 lbs Physical description: While modern medicine helps to keep many people looking younger and younger, years of conflict have still taken its toll upon Lucas' body. With black hair that has begun to see specks of gray, and the almost constant bags under his weary blue eyes, the only thing the man is missing is a shaggy beard, or at least a five o'clock shadow, from making him seem like some world weary drug addict running through the streets. Adding to this appearance are his somewhat gaunt cheeks that run down to a narrow and clean shaven chin, while a slightly stubby nose keeps him from looking too hawkish. A few wrinkles crease at the corners of his eyes now too, which have a slight upwards slant, and his lips are creased into a near constant frown. Despite his looks, however, Lucas still carries himself tall with his shoulders squared rather than giving into the exhaustion that seems evident upon his face. Given that he is a pilot, he remains in excellent shape, although his skin is exceedingly pale, as if he rarely steps out into the sun, which contrasts heavily with the dirt that mars his body, particularly after working on a machine. He wears a standard IMC pilot's suit. Titan: Monarch Weapons: R-201 Assault Rifle, Hammond P2016, MGL Mag Launcher Ordinance: Arc Grenades, Frag Grenades Abilities: Cloak Personality/Attitude: Once much more passionate and outspoken in his younger years, age and experience have tempered Lucas' fire, leaving behind a level-headed and methodical man, preferring to take his time working through whatever problems face him when possible. What remains of his youth are a rather loud and expressive manner of speaking that helps to endear him in otherwise bleak times, and a stubborn streak a mile long once he's put his head to doing something. Years of conflict have similarly tempered his view of what it means to wage war, as he sees most things in shades of gray rather than black and white, believing the IMC to be aggressive in their cut throat take over of the Frontier, but the Militia far too short sighted to truly manage their own while being blinded by their moral high ground. While preferring to limit casualties, Lucas still holds the lives of his men in greater regard than those of his enemies, and will not hesitate for very long before ordering the execution of prisoners if he believes there to be no other recourse without putting his men into undue harm. Skills/Talents: Pilot Training Engineer and Mechanic Computers and Coding Favourites/Likes: Alcohol That 'burnt' smell of soldered metal Sleep City life and convienences Most Hated/Dislikes: Big egos The self-righteous Uneccessary risks Goals/Ambitions: Making it back to the Core Systems and retiring with a pension. Short of that, go down fighting. Strengths: Smart Cool-head Analytical Weaknesses: Cautious Does not react as well when caught surprised or unprepared Fears: Death, though he's accepted its inevitibility Being helpless to do something Hobbies/Interests: Reading Video games Working with his hands Robotics History: Born and raised in the Core Systems, the Frontier was always a distant and faraway place. Something one heard of in the news or simply in passing. He never imagined he would actually end up traveling there after discovering his passion for working with machines and graduating with a degree in robotics. After all, he was the sort of nerdy guy who would never dream of doing anything but a deskjob, but when the IMC came knocking, asking him if he'd like a job working with titans and travelling the stars, how could he say no? While he first started as an officer who worked with repair crews, it was upon the very first time that he came face to face with a titan that he knew he wanted to be a pilot. He worked hard in order to attain his certifications, passing many of the mental ones with ease, while struggling to get into shape to pass the rigorous physical examinations, but he would finally manage to do so, just in time to be shipped off to the Frontier to wage war against the Militia. He would come to fight across numerous systems and visit more planets than he had ever dreamed off in his youth, and while he was not present at the battle of Demeter, he still lost numerous friends during the incident. Since then, He's continued to fight for the IMC, in the hopes of eventually returning home once this war is over, and with recent IMC reinforcements finally arriving, that hope has become a little more real.
23,882	689	9	687	318	Le ciel a disparu sous Alms et Madrys. Une flèche rocheuse, celle-là même pour laquelle Alms avait obtenu les coordonnées, a été laissée avec un tiret dans le haut quand Madrys a atterri. Un nuage de poussière, de saleté et de roches s'envola autour du titan accroupi. Débarrassez-la de son dos, Alms s'est assurée que l'arme était chargée. En voyant ses soldats tomber, Alms leur a appelé. "Bon travail Severence, maintenant assurez-vous de se regrouper avec Jager et Praetor." En se tournant vers l'endroit où Jager se trouvait, actuellement à environ 100 mètres de la base de la flèche, Alms a reçu une communication du jeune pilote. Merde, un putain de monarque était là! "Jager! Restez calme et éloignez-vous. Qu'il vienne à moi, les monarques sont des titans de troisième génération qui te déchireront. Prenez soin de ses soldats, assurez-vous qu'ils paient." En concentrant son attention sur le Monarque qui s'approche rapidement, Alms a pris le but avec le Rifle Plasma. À genoux, il parla à Madrys, "Madrys, vise un vital. Faites un calcul de vitesse de section transversale et ajustez le pistolet au besoin. » -- Oui monsieur! La voix bubble de Madrys est sortie des haut-parleurs alors que les calculs ont joué sur l'un des écrans supérieurs. Facilement, fluidement, Madrys a repositionné le fusil si légèrement. Tirant sur la gâchette, l'épaule des Madrys s'est retirée du recul. La balle, de taille énorme, vola vers le Monarque à venir. Il visait le genou du Titan. Espérons que cela handicaperait le pilote, si ce n'était de le mettre à l'arrêt. Puis, retournant à ses communications, Alms appela ses troupes. "Personne ne s'approche du Monarque. Je m'en occupe. Compris! » Son dernier commentaire s'adressait davantage à Severence car il savait que sa tête chaude lui ferait vouloir prendre le Monarque. Réveille-toi et brûle, Monarque.	Each character's rank in U.S. Navy rankings (Army in parentheses), updated as positions change Commander (Lieutenant Colonel): Militia Frederick Alms Lieutenant Commander (Major): Militia Savannah Severence, IMC Lucas Cross Lieutenant (Captain): Militia Ryan Jäger, Militia James Praetor
23,883	689	10	1,720	397	En s'éloignant de la couverture, Severence lâcha son Titan à un genou et lui fila le canon. Un moment plus tard, le feu s'est déclenché et a jailli des six barils du Cannon Predator, délirant des sons moins forts sur le champ de bataille avec sa brrrrrrrrt mortelle! Il a fallu plusieurs secondes pour que sa cible - une Scorch IMC - se tourne vers elle, l'une de ses jambes étincelle déjà et tremble à partir des tours de tir à l'armure qui allumaient son 'bord' vers le haut. Un seul tour de son lance-grenades lourd s'est envolé au-dessus de sa tête, tiré de façon réactive au lieu de soigneusement. Il a fallu encore quelques secondes avant qu'un couple d'autres Titans ne commence à tirer sur elle... d'abord un Ion, puis un Tone. Lucy la Légion trembla un moment, prenant quelques coups à l'armure lourde du cockpit, avant que Savannah n'active le pare-brise. Ordonner à son Titan de continuer à tirer jusqu'à ce que l'arme commence à surchauffer ou que le Scorch soit descendu, elle est sortie du cockpit par la trappe supérieure, protégée par le bouclier-scintillant, chatoyant, mais encore bleu. Débarrasser son Archer, elle a pris le viseur et s'est enfermée sur le Scorch. Détectant le verrou, le Scorch a immédiatement utilisé son pouvoir défensif ardent, éjectant des tonnes de thermite dans l'espoir de pré-détoner l'ogive... qui n'est jamais venu. Comme le système a surchauffé et qu'il l'a laissé tomber, Savannah a tiré. Elle n'a pas vérifié si elle avait touché ou non, elle l'a simplement jetée sur son dos et elle est revenue dans le cockpit. Elle a vu l'impact. Le Scorch ne pouvait guère bouger, puisque certaines de ses jambes étaient déchiquetées, et de sorte qu'il se tournait pour essayer de se couvrir, le missile Archer s'est claqué dans la moindre cache blindée de son côté, et a explosé. Les flammes ont tiré de l'échappement de la Scorch, et il a mis en pause, la séquence d'éjection a commencé. Non, trop tard, les réserves de thermite à l'intérieur de la Scorch ont pris feu, et le moteur de la Scorch a explosé à l'arrière, tandis que le reste de la Scorch a fondu de l'intérieur, se renversant. À nouveau sur ses pieds, Savannah a redescendu le Titan, après avoir pris de légers dégâts sur l'armure lourde.	Name: Savannah “Savvy” Vallerie Severence Gender: Female Nationality: What. Allegiance: Militia Age: 30 Rank: O3 Captain, Gen-3 Pilot Level: Adept-level Seeker Pilot Pilot Kit: Grappling Hook (Modified: faster hook shot and rewind) Physical Information Height: 5' 10" Weight: 177 lbs. Eye color: Green Hair color: Blonde Personal Information Personality/Attitude: Gun-ho, Reckless, Rebellious, Hands-on Skills/Talents: CQC, Marksmanship, Squad Tactics, Interrogation, Guerrilla Tactics Favourites/Likes: Toasted foods, oranges, explosions, disrespecting one's enemies, killing someone with their own weapon, deadly ladies with pretty hair, cats, puppers Most Hated/Dislikes: Responsibility/Command over more than a squad, those who assume command, commanding officers who haven't earned her respect, the IMC, APEX Predator members, "Timey-whimey bullshit", bugs, reptiles Goals/Ambitions: Crush the IMC and the APEX underneath her steel Titan legs, take back her rural homeworld, and help rebuild it. Strengths: Combat, torture resistance and interrogation, willpower/fortitude, unyielding. Weaknesses: Bloodthirsty- Merciless and unyielding, she can cross the line and not care one tiny bit. Berserker- if properly provoked, she'll go on a rampage that only breaking things or the closest of friends can stop. Fatalistic- fully expects to die in the war, and thus intends to do as much damage as possible, without nearly as much regard for personal safety. Fears: Failing to contribute to the freeing of the former Militia planets, failing to beat the IMC, failing to kill "that asshole who leads APEX", and REAPERS. Because Reapers are the ones that nearly killed her, years before, and killed her entire family, on a small colony world on the Miltia-IMC border. Hobbies/Interests: Training. Eating oranges. Making panini sandwiches. Hanging out with grunts. Learning skills related to rebuilding and colonizing planets. Titan Titan Class: LEGION Titan Identification: LC-4533T6 (Lima Charlie #4533 Tier 6) “Lil’ Lucy” Miscellaneous: Carries a Ronin Prime Longsword (Stolen, APEX), has multiple spotlights mounted on shoulders, upper arms, and the sides of torso, audio speakers are mounted next to those spotlights. API-HV: Armor Piercing Incendiary High Velocity 15mmx116mm = tungsten-skinned rounds with ballistic-capped tips and incendiary explosives inside for armor-piercing fiery damage. Note: incendiary charges are different from thermite. Essentially just a tiny burst of fire and shrapnel, good for shredding hydraulic hoses, electronics, etc. VERY good against moderately armored critical spots. HEAT-HV: High Explosive Anti-Titan High Velocity 15mmx116mm = thin depleted uranium sleeve with an explosive charge and a tungsten penetrator, high velocity. Hits like an antimaterial round and explodes for maximum damage to lighter armor or exposed critical systems. Armament Primary Weapon: Double-Take Secondary Weapon: RE .45 Handgun Tertiary Weaponry: Archer Missile Launcher 3 Frags 3 Arcs Abilities Booster: Phase Shift Rewind Kit: Grapple Upgrades: Speakers and personal music system Misc: Data Knife, modern mobile device + fucktons of music via remote broadcasting to connected devices.
23,884	689	11	2,128	809	Bien reçu. Il est tout à toi. James répliqua à l'officier supérieur, à coup sûr, avant de remettre son attention sur sa tâche assignée. Au cours de la bataille, il avait fait ce qu'il avait ordonné et fourni autant de couverture qu'il le pouvait qu'il attendait que Severence se lie avec eux, même en s'emparant d'un canon prédateur d'une Légion déchue. Il a recoupé l'arme récupérée, laissant perdre une autre grêle de 15 mm vers un groupe avancé de AT grogne et les envoyant plonger pour se couvrir, ceux qui ont survécu au moins. Le mini-gun a cliqué vide, le tourbillon du rotateur de baril est mort alors qu'ils ralentissaient jusqu'à un arrêt. James l'a regardée une seconde avant de la laisser tomber des mains de Kilo et de chercher une autre arme à utiliser. Ses yeux tombaient sur un canon de 40mm jeté, la main métallique carbonisée et tordue de l'ancien propriétaire saisit encore la poignée de tir. La peinture était Milice. James présenta des excuses silencieuses aux morts alors qu'il soulevait l'arme et arrachait l'appendice endommagé, le glissait dans une poignée de tir et chargeait un nouveau chargeur de munitions. Soudain, l'espace pas trop éloigné de Jäger s'est évanoui et une explosion d'énergie blanche a cédé la place à la forme de maniement de l'épée d'un IMC Ronin, balançant déjà sa lame géante au dos non protégé de la Légion Milice... Mais ça n'a pas été relié. Un obus explosif de 40 mm a heurté la grande épée titan et jeté l'arme hors-course, grâce au nouveau jouet de James, qui a rapidement été suivi d'un second obus explosant contre son genou gauche relativement non protégé, qui s'est légèrement serré et a frappé l'ensemble du titan hors de l'équilibre. Un troisième a envoyé la machine de guerre et a pris un gros morceau d'armure avec elle, qui a été rapidement suivi d'un quatrième et puis d'un cinquième. Le pilote a essayé de sortir de l'épave, mais James a coupé cet espoir tout à fait littéralement. Il a pris la lame tombée du Ronin et l'a passée à travers avec sa propre arme, le cadre manglé épinglé au sol par l'épée massive. En scannant son environnement pendant plusieurs secondes, James et Kilo se laissaient un peu se détendre alors qu'il tournait son Titan vers l'endroit où se trouvait l'autre pilote. Ouverture d'une ligne de communication à l'autre lieutenant, il a donné un long coup d'œil à la Légion jaune. "Je m'inquiéterais plus de toi en ce moment. C'est encore une bataille en direct, et vous êtes une cible assez évidente. Allez, nous devons toujours nous lier à Severence."	Name: James Praetor Age: 28 Gender: Male Nationality: Y-44 Colonist Text Color: Purple Height: 5'11" Weight: 170lb (77kg) Physical description: Slim but well-trained body type, dishevelled brown hair, hetero-chromatic eyes Personality/Attitude: Calm and Level-headed, but cold and distant. Skills/Talents: -Effective Field Tactician -Competent Marksman -Skilled CQC Fighter Favourites/Likes: Chess, Reading, Classical Music, Dogs Most Hated/Dislikes: Invasions of privacy, tyrants, Jazz Goals/Ambitions: To find out what happened to his fiance; rescue her if she's still alive and avenge her if not. Strengths: -Focussed -Intelligent -Ruthless Weaknesses: -Can be distracted by personal matters -Has difficulty being sympathetic -Cold and blunt mannerisms Fears: Losing his fiance/Being unable to rescue her. Hobbies/Interests: Piano, Violin, Handgun Marksmanship, Chess Preferred Weapons: -Ordinance: Firestars, Electric Smoke -Primary: Flatline (Threat Scope, Extended Ammo), Kraber (Threat Scope, Extended Ammo) -Sidearm: Wingman Elite (Speedloader, Ricochet) Gear Appearance -Militia BRP Gear, similar to Cpt. Lastimosa and Jack Cooper Rank -Captain, Gen 3 Callsign: Kilo November-7620 Class: Vanguard (Expo Kit, Preferred) Paint: Purple Fade (technically a Camo for the R-97 but it looks cool) Emblem: 'The Prowler'
23,885	689	12	2,337	153	Mais, monsieur! Il a protesté. "...Ok, très bien." Et avec une grande réticence, il a cessé d'essayer de chasser le Monarque (qu'il savait qu'il ne l'attraperait jamais, mais qu'il devait essayer) et s'est tourné vers les Titans. S'il avait de la chance, il pourrait être en mesure de rattraper Severence ou Praetor, avoir l'un ou l'autre à surveiller son dos rendrait exponentiellement plus facile d'achever la mission. Il a soulevé un marqueur sur son HUD de l'emplacement de Severence et a commencé à se diriger vers elle. Il a coupé sa communication et s'est brouillé : « Ne viens pas me pleurer quand il te détruit et que tu dois te redéployer. » Il a commencé le processus de rechargement et s'est emparé de son environnement. Espaces étroits et couloirs étroits. "Un endroit parfait pour un Scorch." Il a retourné un interrupteur et de petits haut-parleurs dans tout le corps du Titan craqué à la vie. "Je ne suis pas un idiot, je réalise que c'est un piège parfait. Sors, pour qu'on puisse se battre comme de vrais hommes." Soudain, à partir d'un couloir, un réservoir de gaz a traversé les airs. LI l'a attrapé et s'est déplacé vers la direction d'où venait le canon. Il a vite trouvé la source et l'a engagée. Pas "engagé", tant que "a ouvert l'écoutille, a poussé la boîte à l'intérieur, a ouvert sa propre trappe, et jeté un allumeur allumé dedans". Comme vous pouvez l'imaginer, cela a eu pour effet de tuer le pilote et de fondre l'équipement coûteux contenu dans le poste de pilotage. Il est sorti du bâtiment et a continué sur son chemin joyeux. Quand il est arrivé à l'endroit marqué sur son HUD, il a vu Savvy déchirer à travers une horde d'ennemis Stryders. Puis, il a entendu le son distinctif d'un changement de phase de Ronin et il savait qu'il serait chanceux de survivre à ce coup. Il s'est accouché et s'est préparé à éjecter, mais le coup n'est jamais venu. Au lieu de cela, le feu de Tracker Cannon a traversé son cockpit. Un coup de feu avait frappé l'épée de Ronin. Puis une seconde boucle son genou. Puis trois en rapide succession l'ont renversé et tout a été fini avec un coup rapide dans la poitrine. C'était trop près. Merci de m'avoir sauvée, mais j'aurais dû être plus conscient. » Hors du coin de l'œil, il a vu un Ronin Shift derrière Severence. Souviens-toi de ton entraînement. Prêt... Il a commencé son Power Shot. Vise... le feu! L'éparpillement en forme de fusil a marqué un coup direct contre le Titan et l'a renvoyé en vol. Reste loin de Snape.	Name: Ryan Jäger Age: 27 Gender: Male Nationality: Harmonian Text Color: This is his text color. Rank: Lieutenant Height: 5'8" Weight: 185 lb Physical description: Fair skin Short blond hair Green eyes Scruffy beard Titan: Legion-class, Lima India-2686 (Li (lie) for short) Load-out R-97: Extra Ammo, Speedloader, HCOG Ranger Charge Rifle: Charge Hack Hammond P2016: Extra Ammo, Gunrunner Arc Grenade Grapple Hook Booster: Amped Weapons Personality/Attitude: Charming, heroic, quick to anger Skills/Talents: Pilot training, Favourites/Likes: LI-2686, parkour, knifing various things, sandwiches Most Hated/Dislikes: IMC, enemy Titans, getting rodeoed, stubbing his toe (hate that!) Goals/Ambitions: To climb the ranks of the SRS, win the freedom of the Frontier Strengths: Decent marksman, rodeos very reliably Weaknesses: Anger can blind him and make him make mistakes, endangering himself and others Fears: Losing to the IMC Hobbies/Interests: Running the Glitch Gauntlet (Note: has a sister named Rachel, who is also in the SRS)
23,886	689	13	1,720	397	Un ping est apparu sur la mini-carte de la tête de Savannah directement derrière elle, tout comme elle avait déjà commencé à se tourner pour faire face aux perturbations du témoin dans le changement de phase de l'air n'était pas sans défauts. Elle avait déjà lancé son tir de puissance à portée de main lorsque, tout comme elle tirait, le Ronin a été soufflé sur le côté, son épée levée. Un éclat de rage ardente lui a tiré dessus, et elle a regardé sur le côté pour voir Jager essayer de tirer d'une centaine de mètres de distance. Légion est plus efficace si vous utilisez une portée rapprochée pour une portée rapprochée et une portée longue pour une portée longue, elle s'est dit, frustrée, avant de retourner au Ronin éraflé. Il n'a même pas de dégâts! Le Ronin avait fourré son épée en faveur du fusil de chasse, s'élançant sur le côté avant que le capitaine de la Légion puisse obtenir un tir aligné, toujours balançant son arme autour comme un vaporisateur d'obus a commencé à clignoter à travers la peau de titane du Titan. En grincant les dents alors que le Ronin s'élançait de nouveau autour d'elle, elle laissa tomber le canon Predator en faveur d'une plus grande agilité, et s'élança vers lui. Elle a à peine réussi à saisir son bras lorsqu'il s'est déplacé de nouveau, l'amenant avec elle, et au lieu de s'éloigner de son emprise, elle l'a maintenu ancré. Dès qu'ils sont sortis du décalage de phase, exactement là où ils étaient avant, Severrence a tiré et jeté le Ronin contre le mur qu'elle avait pris à l'abri, en utilisant son châssis plus lourd et ses bras plus puissants. Claquant son autre main dans l'épaule du Ronin, elle a posé le Titan contre le mur, ignorant les balançoires de l'autre bras avec son épée. Après un moment, elle tira, déchirant lentement le bras du Titan, puis le jeta au sol. Ronin ayant du mal à se lever une seule fois, Savannah s'est avancé et a écrasé la section médiane du Titan, avant de s'accrocher au sommet de la meche légère et de l'élever dans l'air. En formant un poing, elle a frappé le cockpit du Ronin une fois, deux fois, trois fois, délogeant finalement la porte du cockpit, et tirant le noyau d'IA du Titan avec lui. En entrant, elle s'empare doucement du pilote IMC stupéfait, une recrue, mais probablement d'une famille plus riche ou d'une école de luxe, et l'enlève de son Ronin, laissant le morceau inutile de ferraille qu'elle a récupéré. En ouvrant son propre cockpit, elle s'avança jusqu'au bord de sa nacelle de commandement, et se dirigea vers le débranchement du SMG CAR de l'homme. Elle a vérifié le magazine pour trouver des munitions, puis a vidé le mag à la hanche dans le visage de l'homme, tout en étant incapable et stupéfait. En jetant le SMG à l'intérieur, elle a repris le contrôle de sa mech et a lâché le corps sans tête. Récupérer son Predator Cannon, elle a reconnecté la ceinture qui l'alimente de ses magasins de munitions, et est retournée pousser avec le reste du groupe, ajoutant un de plus au nombre de pilotes IMC qu'elle a personnellement exécuté.	Name: Savannah “Savvy” Vallerie Severence Gender: Female Nationality: What. Allegiance: Militia Age: 30 Rank: O3 Captain, Gen-3 Pilot Level: Adept-level Seeker Pilot Pilot Kit: Grappling Hook (Modified: faster hook shot and rewind) Physical Information Height: 5' 10" Weight: 177 lbs. Eye color: Green Hair color: Blonde Personal Information Personality/Attitude: Gun-ho, Reckless, Rebellious, Hands-on Skills/Talents: CQC, Marksmanship, Squad Tactics, Interrogation, Guerrilla Tactics Favourites/Likes: Toasted foods, oranges, explosions, disrespecting one's enemies, killing someone with their own weapon, deadly ladies with pretty hair, cats, puppers Most Hated/Dislikes: Responsibility/Command over more than a squad, those who assume command, commanding officers who haven't earned her respect, the IMC, APEX Predator members, "Timey-whimey bullshit", bugs, reptiles Goals/Ambitions: Crush the IMC and the APEX underneath her steel Titan legs, take back her rural homeworld, and help rebuild it. Strengths: Combat, torture resistance and interrogation, willpower/fortitude, unyielding. Weaknesses: Bloodthirsty- Merciless and unyielding, she can cross the line and not care one tiny bit. Berserker- if properly provoked, she'll go on a rampage that only breaking things or the closest of friends can stop. Fatalistic- fully expects to die in the war, and thus intends to do as much damage as possible, without nearly as much regard for personal safety. Fears: Failing to contribute to the freeing of the former Militia planets, failing to beat the IMC, failing to kill "that asshole who leads APEX", and REAPERS. Because Reapers are the ones that nearly killed her, years before, and killed her entire family, on a small colony world on the Miltia-IMC border. Hobbies/Interests: Training. Eating oranges. Making panini sandwiches. Hanging out with grunts. Learning skills related to rebuilding and colonizing planets. Titan Titan Class: LEGION Titan Identification: LC-4533T6 (Lima Charlie #4533 Tier 6) “Lil’ Lucy” Miscellaneous: Carries a Ronin Prime Longsword (Stolen, APEX), has multiple spotlights mounted on shoulders, upper arms, and the sides of torso, audio speakers are mounted next to those spotlights. API-HV: Armor Piercing Incendiary High Velocity 15mmx116mm = tungsten-skinned rounds with ballistic-capped tips and incendiary explosives inside for armor-piercing fiery damage. Note: incendiary charges are different from thermite. Essentially just a tiny burst of fire and shrapnel, good for shredding hydraulic hoses, electronics, etc. VERY good against moderately armored critical spots. HEAT-HV: High Explosive Anti-Titan High Velocity 15mmx116mm = thin depleted uranium sleeve with an explosive charge and a tungsten penetrator, high velocity. Hits like an antimaterial round and explodes for maximum damage to lighter armor or exposed critical systems. Armament Primary Weapon: Double-Take Secondary Weapon: RE .45 Handgun Tertiary Weaponry: Archer Missile Launcher 3 Frags 3 Arcs Abilities Booster: Phase Shift Rewind Kit: Grapple Upgrades: Speakers and personal music system Misc: Data Knife, modern mobile device + fucktons of music via remote broadcasting to connected devices.
23,887	690	0	858	734	Docteur Myles Morgan, PHD en biologie moléculaire. Université Harvard. Situé: Le Brig -- Alors, quel est votre nom? Le docteur Morgan a demandé par le micro qui l'a connecté à l'autre côté du verre balistique renforcé. "J'ai frappé ta mère!" Un cri très aigu, presque assourdissant, a explosé de quelque part dans l'obscurité. Le docteur Morgan a soupiré et prêté dans sa chaise, enlevant ses lunettes de lecture pour qu'il puisse masser ses sinus. Il était là depuis des heures. Parmi toutes les personnes que le Rig avait secourues au cours des 48 dernières heures, seulement 1 d'entre elles ont été testées positives pour T-1C. Le protocole dictait que les infectés soient détruits et leurs restes « stérilisés », ce qui signifiait bien sûr une visite d'un match et son meilleur ami un réservoir d'essence. Cependant, le docteur Morgan était curieux; c'était la première victime T-1C qu'il avait vue depuis des semaines, et la première qu'il avait eu l'occasion d'observer correctement. C'était une femme, sans nom, sans domicile fixe ni autre chose à ce sujet ; elle avait jusqu'à présent répondu à toutes ses questions avec des impudicités et des absurdités. "Vous m'entendez faire du DOC? Je l'ai fauchée! J'ai demandé à HELL et à FUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEWEEWDWD HER!" Les infectés criaient encore, toujours invisibles dans l'obscurité de sa cellule de détention. « Lumières », a dit le docteur Morgan à personne en particulier, et a prêté en avant sur son bureau. Il y avait un bref battement, et puis l'obscurité a été instantanément levée comme une douzaine de lumières de bande rayonnait à la vie. La cellule de détention avait été réduite à un mess de meubles poubelles, d'empreintes de sang sur le mur blanc, et d'autres taches moins savores ont balayé à travers le verre balistique. Dans le coin, une femme vêtue d'une robe rouge déchirée avait les jambes enveloppées dans ses bras et était occupée à basculer dans un état de délire intense. "Je vais demander à nouveau, quel est votre nom?" Morgan a dit que sa voix boomait sur les haut-parleurs de la cellule d'attente. La femme a regardé tout à coup, son visage a gâché le sang et la peau cassée. "Je suis mort, oui, oui oui oui oui oui, mort, je suis mort, je suis mort, je suis mort, je suis mort, je suis mort. C'est moi. Bonjour. La mort. Et alors? C'est moi. Venez. Pour. C'est ça." Le docteur Morgan soupira fortement : "On réessaiera demain." Il sortait de sa chaise et sortait de la salle d'observation, accompagné d'un couple de marins non-plus. Il s'est tourné vers l'un d'eux, « Je ne suppose pas que les résultats du test du patient nous soient revenus, n'est-ce pas? » Le marin s'est ébranlé la tête, "Pas de radio, la radio a été plutôt calme." Docteur Tom Eagerton, médecine légale PHD. Université de Cambridge. Situé : Chambres d'essai et diagnostics biologiques "Fuck, oh baise, oh non, oh non, non, non, non," Tom pleura, couvrant ses yeux de sa main gauche; sa droite a été prise dans la centrifugeuse, le gant déchiré à des lambeaux et des éclats de verre collant de sa chair. Il retira lentement sa main du rotateur du tube, puis s'élança vers l'évier le plus proche. Il a frappé la blessure avec de l'eau semi-brouillante, l'a bombardée avec de l'iode, puis l'a utilisée dans la poudre antibactérienne. "Stupéfiant", il murmurait, tremblant de panique. "Toujours coincé, tout le temps! Pourquoi j'ai fait ça? Pourquoi n'ai-je pas utilisé une règle pour la pousser?" Il a continué à laver furieusement la plaie, son sang se mélangeant avec l'eau courante pour former une mousse rose pâle au trou de bouchon de l'évier. "De tous les putains de tests, c'était celui avec un échantillon de sang vivant infecté. Je suis tellement stupide! Je suis tellement stupide!" Il a regardé la caméra de sécurité, et a erré s'ils avaient tout vu; par eux, il voulait dire les deux hommes de l'USMC équipe de tir de l'autre côté de la porte, qui étaient censés regarder son chaque mouvement. Le fait que la porte du labo soit restée fermée lui a dit qu'ils ne l'avaient pas fait. "Peut-être que ça va aller, peut-être que j'ai agi assez vite," Tom a essayé de s'assurer. "Oui, oui, je suis sûr que ça va. T-1C n'est pas si résistant, c'est juste extrêmement agressif." Sa respiration ralentit, et il se trouva un tabouret; il cacha soigneusement sa main blessée de la caméra. Il se demande si les traces de sang sur le sol sont facilement visibles à partir de la résolution du flux de sécurité; probablement pas. Il le jouait cool, et bloquait le sol après avoir fait semblant d'avoir laissé tomber un produit chimique. Oui, ça ira. -- En plus, dit-il lui-même. "Je me sens bien. Très bien. Mieux que jamais. Oui, oui je vais bien, je vais vraiment bien." Sa main gauche a saisi un scalpel de la surface de travail, et il a commencé à le frotter dans la blessure de sa main droite. « Oui, tout va bien se passer », a-t-il dit, souriant largement. "Je ferais mieux d'aller voir les gardes, ils ont l'air si malheureux de nos jours. J'ai juste le médicament pour ça!" Le docteur a commencé à traquer la capsule de décontamination du labo. PFC James Corville, Corps des Marines des États-Unis Situé: Catwalk au-dessus du traitement des survivants (Où sont les joueurs!) PFC James Corville était sur le point de devenir un zombie. Littéralement. Des semaines de 16 heures à l'arrière des équipes avaient pris un lourd tribut, et il sentait qu'il perdait son esprit. Pas de cette façon que T-1C avait fait perdre aux gens la leur bien sûr, juste dans un type humain je-ne-peux-pas-prendre-plus-de-ce-crap genre de façon. Il bâillait pour la millionième fois dans la dernière heure. Penchant au-dessus de la rampe, il regarda paresseusement en bas les survivants brouillés à vingt pieds au-dessous. Certains d'entre eux lui donnent parfois des regards nerveux, et murmurent à leurs pairs. D'autres ont fait de leur mieux pour ne pas avoir de contact visuel avec lui. C'était vraiment dommage, si son commandant ne lui botte pas le cul pour avoir fraternisé avec des civils, il serait plus que prêt à leur parler de tout et de tout. Ça les a mis au repos, une fois qu'ils ont vu qu'il était juste un con de merde dans un système encore plus merdique. Et puis la pièce s'est secouée, la promenade de catwalk oscillant sur les chaînes qui l'ont suspendue dans l'air. James s'est emparé des mains courantes, "la merde"? Il a réussi, puis les murs se sont secoués comme une explosion lointaine a réverbéré à travers la métallurgie. Soudain, les lumières s'éteignent, leur blanc clinique remplacé par une écharpe rouge. Une alarme a commencé à saigner. "Contrôle, c'est Processing, qu'est-ce que vous mijotez?" James a crié dans son micro. Il n'a fallu que quelques secondes pour obtenir une réponse, "Tenez du terrain, soldat, nous avons une situation. Gardez un œil sur les civils et ne bougez pas de votre position. » "Quel genre de situation?" James demanda, mais personne ne lui répondit. Des coups de feu ont éclaté quelque part au-delà des portes en métal, suivis de cris et d'hommes aboyant les ordres. James a décroché son fusil d'assaut M4A1, et l'a préparé à l'action avec un clic audible. Il regarda de l'autre côté de la passerelle, où une porte hydraulique obscurcissait sa vue des couloirs au-delà. C'était le seul point d'accès à la transformation, à part la porte principale en dessous. "Attention, toutes les unités, nous avons une brèche de niveau 5 sur Science Deck. Dites encore une fois que nous sommes compromis, messieurs », a ajouté le casque de Jame. La voix appartenait au colonel Williams - son commandant et commandant du 22e régiment de l'USMC. S'il criait ça, James pourrait parier sa vie que ce n'était pas un exercice. Le vieil homme n'a jamais rufflé les plumes, pas personnellement de toute façon. "Toutes les unités sont rouges immédiatement. C'est le combat de nos vies, ne vous y trompez pas. Tirez d'abord, posez des questions plus tard. Même si tu n'es pas sûr, tire. Ce n'est pas un exercice. Je veux que cela soit contenu hier." Le cœur de James commença à se taper dans la poitrine, sa respiration devenant irrégulière et lourde. Il n'avait jamais vu d'action réelle, et maintenant elle était arrivée à sa porte. Jusqu'à présent, son expérience de l'épidémie de T-1C s'était limitée à des reportages, des mémos et des sentiments supprimés à l'égard du sort de sa famille de retour aux États-Unis. Une brèche de niveau cinq s'est traduite par une perte totale de contrôle de la zone touchée, et les protocoles de confinement immédiat ont failli. Le colonel annonçait en effet la fin du Rig, et tout le monde y était, si la situation ne pouvait pas être résolue rapidement. "Dis encore, c'est une rupture de niveau 5," la voix de Williams a bougé à travers le casque de James. « Tous les civils doivent être éliminés; nous ne pouvons pas risquer la perte de cette station. Répète, tous les civils doivent être annulés. Dieu nous pardonne." James s'est battu pour son micro, "PFC Corville en traitement, monsieur, qu'est-ce que vous dites? Je ne peux pas tirer sur ces gens!" "Oui, vous pouvez, Soldat, et le faire rapidement. Ils sont une charge utile biologique de la mort en attendant d'arriver, nous ne pouvons pas épargner les hommes pour les défendre, et je ne peux pas leur permettre de rejoindre les rangs de l'ennemi," Williams a répondu brusquement. "C'est un ordre." Les yeux de James se sont élargis, et il a regardé les survivants. Ils l'ont regardé avoir tout entendu. Ses mains serrées levèrent son M4A1 au-dessus de la rampe, et son doigt de déclenchement mena une guerre de conquête contre sa boussole morale. Et puis la porte hydraulique menant sur la passerelle s'ouvrit avec un sifflement. "Rends-toi, soldat." James regarda le sergent Jones, un grand guerrier afro-américain encombrant. "Monsieur?" « Reculez, j'ai dit », a dit Jones, tenant les mains pour montrer qu'il n'avait pas d'arme. "Mais le commandant a dit qu'on devait..." James a essayé de souffler. Jones secoua la tête et s'approcha. "Non, non, vous voyez que le commandant a tout faux. Nous ne voulons pas qu'ils se joignent à nous, nous voulons qu'ils meurent. Par nos mains. Parce que c'est amusant." Le cœur de James a sauté un battement, et il a essayé de reculer, apportant son fusil à porter. "Sortez-vous de là" Le poing de Jones lié au visage de James, le frappant sur la rampe. Le PFC a frappé le sol dur, son fusil coulissant sur le métal lisse. Un bras latéral était attaché à sa cuisse, et un couteau de combat pouvait être vu gainé à l'avant de son gilet balistique. Il n'a pas agité. "Laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaadiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeees et messieurs!" Jones rugissait au sommet de la promenade, « Merci d'avoir visité le Rig, nous espérons vous revoir bientôt. "Pousse-toi!" Le sergent de marine est entré dans sa ceinture et a produit deux petits objets verts ressemblant à des boules, que n'importe qui de plus de quatre ans se rendrait compte qu'il s'agissait de grenades à main. Il semblait qu'il avait l'intention de les laisser tomber sur les survivants.	Name: Jamie Alycia Reyes Job before all this: Michelin Chef Location: USA, NY, Ohio Age: 23 Appearance: Blonde long hair, sparlking blue eyes, heart warming smile, sporty Personality: kind to everyone, super protective, badass on the street, loyal and honest, lies make her go mad, not afraid to say what has to be said, or do what has to be done, her father was a surgeon there she got her medical knowledge from, but he died of cancer when she was 19, she loves animals and is vegetarian. Lover: Kahleen Cuthald (for 3 years), lesbian Background: Jamie has never been one to care much for the opinions of others, and has spent the better part of her life trying to stand firmly away from the crowd. Her parent's expectations of her life meant little, and although she had always loved them, something inside her detested everything they had in store for their "little princess". She was a smart kid, an A grade student, but with a taste for life's more colorful endevours. She would always be found hanging out with kids much older than her, and drugs became a favorite past time of her teenage-self. Not the heavy stuff though, she put the red line firmly at cocaine. At the age of 14, she started to figure out that she wasn't quite like your average girl. Whilst her female friends doted over the class hotties, she found herself doting over aforementioned female friends. There was something that appealed to her more when it came to members of her own gender, than boys. Girls were beautiful, they had curves and oh-so-kissable skin. Men in comparison were rugged and rigid, their frames leaving little for the imagination to truly explore. The young Jamie would take a nice pair of feminine thighs over a hardened and chiseled male abdomen any day. Her parents caught on to her quickly arising sexual orientation early, after stumbling upon her internet search history. Her mother thought it was just a phase, and her father was oddly delighted at the prospect of not having to worry about Jamie getting involved with the "wrong boy". However, when Jamie realized her secret had been uncovered, she tried desperately hard to cover her tracks. She started dating guys, and suppressing her homosexual tendencies. This went on, until she was 19, sitting aside her father's hospital bed. Her father was a good man, kind and caring; his energy knew no bounds when it came to helping others. Yet now, there he was, riddled with cancer and undergoing a painful and undignified death. Jamie cried harder than she ever had, during this dark period of her life, but her father managed to bring this to end with the kind of advice one only reserves for his daughter. "Jamie," he said weakly. "You're not you. You're not my daughter. The Jamie I knew was chaotic, nothing ever got her down; she spent most of her time giving me a heart attack with all those morons you kept bringing home. When she wasn't doing that, she was making her mom's life a misery by doing the exact opposite of what she was told. She didn't sit there brooding about the cards she was dealt, no, she eagerly picked up the deck and played the game. You're your own woman, and as a father's dying wish, I would have you carry on living as one. The world is your oyster, and your freedom is limited only by how much you value the opinions of others. If what they say or think doesn't fit your picture, then do away with them. Better that, than to sit in your death bed, years from now, and regret everything." Her father passed a few hours later, and Jamie walked out of the hospital a changed woman. Or rather, a reverted woman. Her facade was set to crumble; the last few years of trying to be someone she wasn't, quickly became a bad memory. She ended up in a cell that night, after beating her boyfriend to pulp when he touched her inappropriately at an inappropriate time. Her mother secured her bail, and the judge threw the subsequent case out, given the emotional circumstances (her father's recent death). But that was it, she was done with men, she was going back to where she came from. With a kiss on her mom's cheek, she hopped a plane to New York, and threw herself into a simple yet ever present passion: cooking. She bounced from restaurant to restaurant, slowly acquiring qualifications and references, working her way up the culinary ladder, until BAM: she got herself a job at Jean-Georges, a Michelin star French-style restaurant. The work was hard, and the pay could've been better, but she was moments from hitting fame, and she knew it. It was during this time that she met Kahleen, a brown haired German beauty with that kind of feminine perfection that Jamie lusted after. Their meeting was a chance one, at some bus stop on some street that she didn't remember, but they hit it off immediately. Three years of romantic bliss later, and they had themselves their own home, Jamie had gained the position of Head Cheff, and two young women were looking towards a bright future. ... Until T-1C hit the streets, and everything became a nightmare.
23,888	690	1	1,049	334	Ils étaient tous dans la petite pièce, John et les autres survivants. C'était un peu déconcertant au début d'être jeté dans une pièce avec un tas de gens, après avoir été seul là-bas pendant un mois. Il s'est réconforté qu'ils n'aient pas été infectés. Tout le monde avait le même regard sur son visage, ils étaient inquiets. L'espoir était là, mais ils étaient tous inquiets de ce qui allait se passer. John le savait parce qu'il ressentait la même chose. Pourtant, il s'est rendu compte qu'il y avait une chance que sa sœur soit quelque part dans la foule. "Taylor!" Il a appelé pour sa sœur, faisant son chemin à travers la foule. Il n'y a pas eu de réponse, donc il a décidé d'essayer sa nièce ensuite. "Ava, es-tu ici-" La chambre trembla violemment, et John réussit à voyager sur un autre survivant. "Tous les civils doivent être éliminés," Les mots échouèrent à son oreille, et il lui fallut une seconde pour enregistrer ce qu'ils disaient. Putain, putain, putain. John a frénétiquement sauté et scanné la pièce pour une sortie, et a noté qu'il n'y avait qu'une seule sortie, mais il semblait être fermé. Certains des autres survivants essayaient de l'ouvrir avec peu ou pas de succès; la porte refusait de céder. John était en route pour les aider, quand il a vu le plus solide se faire frapper par-dessus la rampe. "Laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaadiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeees et messieurs!" Le grand homme, qui était entré quand John ne regardait pas, criait maintenant. « Merci d'avoir visité le Rig, nous espérons vous revoir bientôt. "Pousse-toi!" John savait tout de suite que l'homme était infecté, il l'avait déjà vu. Le cri foulé, l'animal a l'air sur son visage, et pour aggraver les choses, l'homme a produit deux grenades à main de sa ceinture. John a cherché l'autre plus solide pour se protéger, mais il était encore inconscient sur le sol; son fusil était sur le sol à côté de lui. "Shit", John maudit. Il s'est battu à travers la foule paniquée pour attraper l'arme. C'était plus lourd qu'il ne l'avait prévu, et il avait vu assez de films pour savoir qu'il avait besoin de vérifier la sécurité. Il était prêt à tirer. "Juste... pointer et tirer." Il a essayé d'aligner les vues de fer aussi bien qu'il le pouvait, espérant frapper l'homme au centre de sa poitrine, mais il n'avait jamais été un grand tireur. "Fais chier." Il a appuyé sur la gâchette, l'arme a tiré violemment, et un flot de balles s'est envolé. Les coups de feu ont immédiatement réduit au silence la pièce. Les survivants ont brièvement cessé de paniquer, pour localiser la source. John a baissé le fusil un moment, en vérifiant s'il l'avait frappé. Il avait manqué sa zone prévue. Plutôt que de frapper la masse centrale, il y avait une ligne de trous de balles qui a commencé au cou de l'homme et a continué vers le haut. Le sergent des Marines est retombé contre le mur, le badigeonnant de sang. Les deux grenades à main sont sorties de ses mains, et sur le bord de la passerelle. Ils se cliquent inoffensifment sur le sol à côté de John quand ils atterrissent, leurs épingles sont toujours intactes. John a coulé à genoux, "Oh Dieu merci." Il a regardé l'homme inconscient et a dit à personne en particulier, "Je parie qu'il peut nous sortir d'ici."	Name: John Hemmy Gender: Male Age: 20 Nationality: United States/White Surviving Family: Sister and Niece Former Occupation: Fry Cook/was looking into college Backstory: The doctor motioned with his right hand for John to look at the camera as he spoke. He took a deep breath, and slowly let it out before before speaking. “Well, uh, I was working the first night that it hit my town. No one had really expected it, we were led to believe that the virus hadn’t made it down that far south yet. It was around eleven at night when I first encountered someone who was infected. “My boss was going over some paperwork, and I was counting the inventory. I was in the walk in cooler when I heard the commotion coming from his office. Sounded like he, uh, smashed his window. I didn’t want to go in there, ‘cause I thought he was mad again. He had an awful temper, did shit like that all the time. But I had to run in there when he started screaming my name. When I rounded the corner to his office, I saw him, uh, fighting off what I thought was a pissed off customer. The customer was flailing a bat around, and my boss was using his barstool to keep him at a distance. “I didn’t really have time to think about it, so I just tackled the customer, and kept him pinned to the floor while my boss called the police. I didn’t realize it at the time, you know, that he was infected, but it clicked once my boss told me that he was trying to spit on him. I had heard that they can spread the virus with bodily fluids, is that true?” John asked, the doctor nodded his head yes. John cleared his throat and began again, “The next couple of days were pretty weird. No one was allowed to leave their house, complete lockdown. Such a stupid idea, people were practically trapped in their homes. Didn’t, uh, take long for the infected to start ripping the city apart. I tried going to my parents house to get them out, wanted to get everyone in the family out alive. When I got there…” John’s voice trailed off, “Well...you know. I tried my sister next, I was happy to find them alive. Her and my niece hopped in my truck, and we left town through the, uh, backroads. No particular destination in mind. “We stayed together for a few weeks, scavenging for food and fuel. I’d go into the towns, and she would watch the truck. Until about a month ago when we got separated. I was on my way back to the truck, when I saw the infected around the two of them; they were creeping up on the truck. I yelled for her to start the truck and drive away, then I got the attention of the all the infected and made them chase me. I don’t, uh, know how long I ran. It was definitely the longer than I ever had before. The infected were screaming and shouting the entire time they were chasing. I don’t know if I lost them, or if they just got bored and quit following. But about two hours after that, I collapsed in some woods and fell asleep. Woke up a few hours later, I was lost but still alive. And then for a month, I was alone. “Only saw two other sane people, but they didn’t last long. I was hiding in a, uh, dumpster while the two strangers got beat to death by a group of the infected. I’m sure the marines here would have jumped in to save those people, but I was scared. Fear keeps you alive out there,” John cleared his throat, “Anyway, uh, that’s pretty much my whole story. I found you guys two days ago, almost got shot introducing myself, and now I’m here.” John sighed, happy to have the interview done with. The doctor gave a gentle nod and shut the camera off. Appearance: John is 6 feet tall, and weighs around 125. Before the outbreak he had a healthier weight, and a slim athletic build, but the lack of food has thinned him out a little. Without any barbers around to have taken care of him, John’s hair has become uncharacteristically long; stopping just at his shoulders. His once full face, is now sunken and bruised. The overall rugged appearance makes his hazel eye color seem to pop. ((The appearance is a bit a rough, but it's four in the morning so it'll have to do for now.))
23,889	690	2	1,182	1,253	Beaucoup d'entre eux étaient enfermés dans une pièce blanche et vide. Non pas que le fait d'être enfermé dans une pièce n'était pas assez effrayant, cette pièce a également été regardée par un marin armé. Ça ressemblait plus à une prison pour Kahleen qu'à un Rig de secours. C'était vraiment pour leur mieux? Enfermé sans meubles pour s'asseoir et un fusil pointé sur eux? Au moins, ils n'étaient pas seuls. Au moment où Kahleen a été amenée dans la chambre, elle a fouillé la chambre pour Jamie. Elle a seulement réalisé que la porte était bloquée de l'extérieur quand elle a trouvé son amant indemne. Voir Jamie en sécurité était comme un voyage rapide au paradis, avant qu'elle ne revienne à la réalité où personne n'a jamais été en sécurité pendant longtemps. Et son sentiment se révélerait correct. Les survivants donneraient un regard à chacun dans la pièce, certains parleraient ici et là, mais le plus d'attention était sur le marine au-dessus d'eux. C'était inquiétant Kahleen, que l'homme puisse juste leur tirer dessus un par un et qu'ils ne puissent même rien faire à ce sujet. Elle se sentait mal à l'aise. Toutes les autres personnes n'osaient regarder l'homme marin que de temps en temps, tandis que Kahleen lui fixait un regard comme si elle le voyait à travers lui. Son côté têtu était sorti. Elle n'aurait pas voulu se faire surveiller avec une putain d'arme. Ce n'est pas gentil. La beauté blonde à côté d'elle lui a donné un coup assez dur sur l'épaule. "Oh!", Kahleen s'est plainte et s'est concentrée sur sa petite amie. Jamie a eu son jugement que tu n'écoutes pas ta copine regarder sur son visage. Kahleen le savait trop bien. "I -", mais elle a été interrompue par un homme criant des noms de femmes. "Taylor. Ava, tu es là-", a-t-il crié. La pièce secoua comme si elle était secouée par la main de Dieu. Kahleen a attrapé Jamie par instinct et l'a tenue debout. "C'était une bombe?!", demanda-t-elle à la femme. Les lumières d'alarme ont mis le feu à la pièce. Panic s'est détaché. Avant qu'elle ne puisse dire quelque chose de plus, un coup fort l'a fait sauter. L'homme marin d'en haut était allongé sur le sol. Un autre homme avait pris position sur la passerelle. C'était aussi un marin mais il souriait sans aucune joie, ses yeux étaient grands et ce regard animal sur son visage ne faisait qu'empirer les choses. "Laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaadiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeees et messieurs! Merci d'avoir visité le Rig, nous espérons vous revoir bientôt. "Pousse-toi!" Le premier instinct de Kahlan a été de fuir, mais la porte était toujours fermée. Les gens criaient pour de l'aide. L'homme fou tenait des grenades dans sa main... Tirs d'arme! Kahlan leva automatiquement les mains à ses oreilles pour les protéger du bruit, ses yeux fouillèrent le bruit et elle vit l'homme, qui criait des noms de femmes pour trouver des gens, tirant sur une arme sans aucune expérience. Comme s'il essayait d'obtenir le fusil d'où il venait, sa tête se tourna lentement vers le marin frappé. Et elle a trouvé le couteau, qui appartenait au marine. Elle a laissé tomber le bras de Jamie et s'est précipitée au-dessus du sol, dans toute la panique que personne ne l'a remarqué de toute façon, et elle s'est emparée du couteau pendant que les coups de feu volaient à travers les airs. La prochaine chose qu'elle savait, elle était à genoux tenant le couteau, l'homme infecté était mort par les coups de feu, le sang coulant du mur au-dessus d'eux et les grenades ont touché le sol inoffensivement. Le tireur s'est exprimé en ces termes: "Oh Dieu merci. Je parie qu'il peut nous sortir d'ici." Kahleen s'est levé. "Bon coup." Heureusement que quelqu'un a sauvé la situation, elle lui a cogné la tête. Personne n'a été blessé, c'est un plus. Mais elle s'est demandé comment le marin aurait réagi quand il se réveillerait...	Name: Jamie Alycia Reyes Job before all this: Chef at a fancy restaurant Location: USA, NY, Ohio Age: 23 Appearance: Blonde long hair, sparlking blue eyes, heart warming smile, sporty Personality: kind to everyone, super protective, badass on the street, loyal and honest, lies make her go mad, not afraid to say what has to be said, or do what has to be done, her father was a surgeon there she got her medical knowledge from, but he died of cancer when she was 19, she loves animals and is vegeterian Lover: Kahleen Cuthald (for 3 years), lesbian All of the above is what I imagine her like. Please feel free to adjust and change her to your pleasure. But make sure it fits Kahleen Cuthald's story please. If anyone is interested, be my guest. Edit: Character has been taken over. Thank you.
23,890	690	3	858	734	Jamie Alycia Reyes Lieu: Traitement des survivants Jamie s'est jetée et a couvert la tête au moment où elle a vu le grand gars en haut produire quelques grenades; un profond bouffon de honte lui a frappé fort, quand elle a réalisé qu'il semblait qu'elle allait mieux se protéger, que Kahleen. Elle s'est approchée les yeux fermés, essayant frénétiquement de saisir l'éclat familier des poignets de sa petite amie. "Babe?" Elle a crié, "ba-" Le rugissement assourdissant d'un fusil d'assaut automatique de grade militaire a tout effacé; la rage de l'arme rebondit du mur au mur, créant une tempête parfaite de tonnerre éclatant l'oreille. Les oreilles sonnent, elle ouvre les yeux et regarde autour. Un homme à l'air brouillé, grand et lanky tenait un fusil fumant - avec l'aimable autorisation du soldat qui s'était fait frapper de la passerelle. Il agita sur le corps immobile de leur ancien garde, suggérant qu'il pourrait ouvrir la porte pour eux. Mais elle n'était pas intéressée par le tireur, ou le garde, et donc elle a tourné la tête à gauche et à droite à la recherche de quelque chose de plus précieux que la vie chère elle-même. Oh mon Dieu, s'il te plaît, laisse-la aller! Kahleen se leva du chaos, un couteau partiellement obscurci dans la paume de sa main. Jamie était sur ses pieds en un instant, et courut vers elle. « Dieu merci, tu vas bien », a-t-elle dit, jetant ses bras autour de Kahleen. "Ne refais pas ça, je pensais t'avoir perdu!" Au-dessus de l'épaule de Kahleen, Jamie a vu la porte de la pièce s'ouvrir lentement, son cadre lourd grincant légèrement, et ce qui ressemblait à une muselière de fusil ponçant à travers l'espace. Ses yeux s'élargissaient, "la porte!" Caporal Steven Baxter, Corps des Marines des États-Unis. Lieu : Traitement des survivants à l'extérieur Steven laissa tomber la radio à l'étage, après avoir entendu tout l'échange par l'intermédiaire du micro de la PFC Corville. Ses ordres dictaient qu'il devait y aller, et faire le travail lui-même; tirer sur tous les civils, s'assurer qu'ils ne pouvaient pas poser une menace. Des ordres difficiles, sans aucun doute, mais il avait déjà dû tuer des innocents. Il l'avait fait à Washington, à New York, et il le ferait ici aussi. Mais les choses avaient changé pour le jeune caporal au cours des dernières minutes; un couteau de combat ensanglanté se trouvait à ses pieds, le long du corps du PFC Rickinson. Il y a une heure, les deux hommes avaient été les meilleurs amis, et il y a quelques minutes, des ennemis jurés. Rickinson était mort, et le caporal Baxter devait porter la torche de folie de son ami. Soudain, l'idée de tuer des tas de gens semblait être non seulement la bonne chose à faire, mais la chose vraiment, vraiment géniale à faire. Sa bouche arrosait à l'idée d'un groupe de gens, courant et criant, le suppliant pour leur vie. Comme ce serait drôle! Il a atteint le boulon qui a verrouillé la porte à Survivor Processing, et l'a tiré en arrière, puis s'est penché doucement contre le métal épais. Il a légèrement crû, et il a poussé le museau de son M4A1 Assault Rifle à travers la brèche. Il a aligné les vues avec la première personne qui est venue en vue, et souriant glorieusement que son doigt a trouvé la gâchette. "SEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, Il a crié. Les survivants auraient moins d'une seconde pour réagir. Pour eux, cela signifiait plonger pour couvrir ou pulvériser la position de Baxter dans l'espoir de le frapper.	Name: Jamie Alycia Reyes Job before all this: Michelin Chef Location: USA, NY, Ohio Age: 23 Appearance: Blonde long hair, sparlking blue eyes, heart warming smile, sporty Personality: kind to everyone, super protective, badass on the street, loyal and honest, lies make her go mad, not afraid to say what has to be said, or do what has to be done, her father was a surgeon there she got her medical knowledge from, but he died of cancer when she was 19, she loves animals and is vegetarian. Lover: Kahleen Cuthald (for 3 years), lesbian Background: Jamie has never been one to care much for the opinions of others, and has spent the better part of her life trying to stand firmly away from the crowd. Her parent's expectations of her life meant little, and although she had always loved them, something inside her detested everything they had in store for their "little princess". She was a smart kid, an A grade student, but with a taste for life's more colorful endevours. She would always be found hanging out with kids much older than her, and drugs became a favorite past time of her teenage-self. Not the heavy stuff though, she put the red line firmly at cocaine. At the age of 14, she started to figure out that she wasn't quite like your average girl. Whilst her female friends doted over the class hotties, she found herself doting over aforementioned female friends. There was something that appealed to her more when it came to members of her own gender, than boys. Girls were beautiful, they had curves and oh-so-kissable skin. Men in comparison were rugged and rigid, their frames leaving little for the imagination to truly explore. The young Jamie would take a nice pair of feminine thighs over a hardened and chiseled male abdomen any day. Her parents caught on to her quickly arising sexual orientation early, after stumbling upon her internet search history. Her mother thought it was just a phase, and her father was oddly delighted at the prospect of not having to worry about Jamie getting involved with the "wrong boy". However, when Jamie realized her secret had been uncovered, she tried desperately hard to cover her tracks. She started dating guys, and suppressing her homosexual tendencies. This went on, until she was 19, sitting aside her father's hospital bed. Her father was a good man, kind and caring; his energy knew no bounds when it came to helping others. Yet now, there he was, riddled with cancer and undergoing a painful and undignified death. Jamie cried harder than she ever had, during this dark period of her life, but her father managed to bring this to end with the kind of advice one only reserves for his daughter. "Jamie," he said weakly. "You're not you. You're not my daughter. The Jamie I knew was chaotic, nothing ever got her down; she spent most of her time giving me a heart attack with all those morons you kept bringing home. When she wasn't doing that, she was making her mom's life a misery by doing the exact opposite of what she was told. She didn't sit there brooding about the cards she was dealt, no, she eagerly picked up the deck and played the game. You're your own woman, and as a father's dying wish, I would have you carry on living as one. The world is your oyster, and your freedom is limited only by how much you value the opinions of others. If what they say or think doesn't fit your picture, then do away with them. Better that, than to sit in your death bed, years from now, and regret everything." Her father passed a few hours later, and Jamie walked out of the hospital a changed woman. Or rather, a reverted woman. Her facade was set to crumble; the last few years of trying to be someone she wasn't, quickly became a bad memory. She ended up in a cell that night, after beating her boyfriend to pulp when he touched her inappropriately at an inappropriate time. Her mother secured her bail, and the judge threw the subsequent case out, given the emotional circumstances (her father's recent death). But that was it, she was done with men, she was going back to where she came from. With a kiss on her mom's cheek, she hopped a plane to New York, and threw herself into a simple yet ever present passion: cooking. She bounced from restaurant to restaurant, slowly acquiring qualifications and references, working her way up the culinary ladder, until BAM: she got herself a job at Jean-Georges, a Michelin star French-style restaurant. The work was hard, and the pay could've been better, but she was moments from hitting fame, and she knew it. It was during this time that she met Kahleen, a brown haired German beauty with that kind of feminine perfection that Jamie lusted after. Their meeting was a chance one, at some bus stop on some street that she didn't remember, but they hit it off immediately. Three years of romantic bliss later, and they had themselves their own home, Jamie had gained the position of Head Cheff, and two young women were looking towards a bright future. ... Until T-1C hit the streets, and everything became a nightmare.
23,891	690	4	497	586	M A R L A M I L E R Le chaos éclata au sein de la cellule de détention bondée et un peu claustrophobe sur les talons des ordres donnés pour leur mort imminente, avec les ajouts de la salle d'ébranlement, le corps tombé de leur garde pas si tardive, et les coups de feu fort et craquants ne font qu'ajouter à la confusion. Tout se passait si vite. Tout se passait bien. Comme l'ensemble de la scène a joué - de la prise de conscience que leurs ravisseurs (sous couvert de sauveteurs) n'étaient pas du tout immunisés au virus qui les avait tous eus dans cette pièce en premier lieu, aux quelques instants suivants de survie victorieuse - Marla Miller était restée dans le coin, n'ayant pas déménagé du moment où elle avait été inaugurée à l'intérieur. Son dos était si serré entre les deux murs qu'il aurait été un miracle si son corps ne s'éloignait pas de la position avec un angle droit le long de sa colonne vertébrale. Des mains blanches et fines étaient serrées autour de sa tête, des paumes éclipsant ses oreilles sous ses cheveux presque blancs. Les orbes en forme d'amande de couleur vert noisette étaient larges, sillonnant l'espace avec un mélange de peur et une étrange irritation à toute l'épreuve. Ce n'est qu'au bout des quelques secondes de répit qu'à l'occasion du spectacle héroïque d'un type avec l'arme qu'il ne savait pas manier correctement que Marla laissait tomber ses mains de la tête. Elle arpenta immédiatement la pièce, observant les gestes d'affection échangés dans la chaleur de la survie. Ça ne l'a pas dérangée qu'elle n'ait personne avec qui célébrer le soulagement. En fait, elle préférait cela. Après avoir appris qu'elle ne pouvait même pas s'occuper d'un enfant de quatorze ans, il était probablement préférable de ne pas avoir une autre vie à s'inquiéter après. Elle pouvait à peine s'en occuper en ce moment. Se redressant, Marla a tourné le regard pour trouver le garde inconscient à temps pour attraper l'une des femmes présentes récupérer un couteau létal regardant du gilet du mâle. C'est quoi, ça? C'est probablement une bonne idée. Puis une pensée lui apparut, et son sourcil secoua légèrement, comme s'il allait vers le haut. Les yeux de Marla dérivent de l'homme maintenant en possession du fusil, reculent jusqu'au visage du porte-couteau, en se remémorant les deux. Ou pas. Ce n'était pas un coup pour elle d'imaginer que les deux se soient infectés et d'utiliser ces armes contre les autres à l'endroit. Elle a fait une note mentale pour les éviter si elle le pouvait. Ses yeux tombaient de nouveau sur le garde tombé, se renversant sur le pistolet encore attaché à sa cuisse. Vérifie. Poussant les cheveux qui étaient tombés dans son visage, Marla commença à se diriger vers son corps, tissant nonchalamment à travers ou autour de sa compagnie tout comme une autre femme blonde ramasse celle avec le couteau dans une étreinte. Elle venait d'arriver à sa position lorsqu'ils ont été frappés par une autre urgence : "La porte!" L'attention de Marla a fouetté à l'entrée, dont la légère ouverture chevauchait maintenant le museau d'un autre fusil. Oh, c'est ça! "SEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, Et Marla plongea pour le sol à la tête du soldat alors que la folle newcomer commençait à ouvrir le feu, sa bouche ouverte en un cri court et fort alors qu'elle rampait à la cuisse du gars. Au-dessus d'elle, les pieds brouillaient et les corps frappaient le sol; morts ou vivants, elle ne savait pas. Tout ce qu'elle savait, c'était le métal cool de la poignée à portée de main. Elle a arraché l'étui et a arraché l'arme à feu dans ses mains, la tenant comme Abby l'avait appris à le faire dans les arcades. Mais, incapable d'obtenir une vue claire de leur prédateur à cause du brouillage frénétique de la foule, et ne voulant pas faire tomber des civils à cause de cela, elle a rapidement abaissé l'arme. "Faites chier! Qu'est-ce qu'il y a? Panicking, Marla recula vers le mur sur son ventre, pistolet serré dans sa main. Elle a pris le gilet du soldat dans son autre main et l'a chargé sur elle autant qu'elle le pouvait, en criant comme elle l'a fait, et s'est aplatie autant qu'elle le pouvait derrière son armure. Elle a jeté le pistolet sous son menton, le câlinant là-bas avec les yeux fermés, attendant juste la fin du chaos.	Name? There was a pause, during which she looked up at M through her mascara-clumped lashes, before she inhaled deeply. He could catch a slight rolling of her eyes before she spoke. "Marla Miller." Gender: "Female." Age: "23." Nationality: She scoffed a little under her breath. "English - if you can't tell by my accent." Appearance: "Er... I'm 5'5", yeah? I'm pretty slim, even before the lack of food - unfortunately that means no boobs. I've got an alright ass, though." She smirked at her own cheekiness. "Eyes are hazel-green, hair is almost bleach blonde, with this blue streak in it." Flicking the strands with her black painted fingernail, she continued. "I've got some tattoos... And a small birthmark in the shape of Alaska on my inner left thigh." Surviving Family: Remaining quiet, she simply let her gaze drift away before pointedly shrugging once. Former Occupation: "I did lighting design and tech for local venues." Backstory: Pursing her lips, Marla shifted in the chair. "Umm," she breathed out, idly watching her thumbs trace circles around each other, "I was staying at my parents' for the week, and saw my mother go first. Apparently, one of her patients at the clinic accidentally sneezed in her face, and she'd been complaining about her eyes stinging... Then a few days later, she went bat shit on my step-dad... He was holding her off, shouting at me to take my sister into the room and stay there. Obviously I wasn't going to question it, so I grabbed...I grabbed Abigail's hand - Abby's my sister - and dragged her into my room, locking the door behind me..." Marla took a moment to breathe, then continued. "Her eyes were so fucking big... And she kept- she kept asking me what was happening. I mean, I didn't know fuck either so I just told her that mum was on her period and not to mind it, and I grabbed my blue headphones from the desk and fit them over her ears so that the music would drown out the screaming..." "But, you know, she was fourteen and not a complete idiot, so... Anyway, she kept the headphones on and kept quiet. I think she felt badly that I had to listen..." Marla faded into silence, and didn't resume the story until prodded by the doctor. "After James was..." She cleared her throat softly. "After my dad was done, mum tried busting down the door. That actually scared me pretty badly, and I practically jumped into Abby's arms - she had taken off the headphones by this point and just pulled me onto the bed with her." Her slender, fair hand reached up to scratch the back of her neck. "It was probably more than an hour before I guess my mum gave up... It got quiet, at least. And then, we waited." "Abby looked all of it up online and that's how we educated ourselves: about the virus, about its destruction. I crept out of the bedroom and made sure we were alone before barricading the entrance. And, er... After cleaning up what I could of my father, I let Abby join me in the rest of the place, and we survived on the canned shit they had. It must've been nearly three weeks that we stayed there... But the food wasn't going to last forever." "When I told Abigail that I would be going out to get us more, she basically threw a fit until I agreed to let her come with me. And me being a complete pussy when it comes to her... Heh. Well I fucking caved. And then she told me... More like, ordered me, not to let her become one of them." There was a pause, and a flicker of a smile across her face. "Like some goddamn teen movie." Suddenly she leaned forward on the table and hid her face behind her hands, running them down until they rested underneath her chin. "So we promised each other, that night, under that stupid kitchen lamp mum loved, that we wouldn't let each other turn." Another longer pause, followed by a click of her tongue. "Yeah, well... A few days after we grew enough balls to go out and find more supplies. We were alright for about another week, holing up in empty cars with our loot. And then we ran into an ambush at some drugstore. We got away, and I thought we were fine, but... She had a deep scratch on her right shoulder. I cleaned it out best I could..." Her eyes began to lose focus, and her voice had dropped in volume. "...It was her that told me to leave it... And she gave me... She gave me a long hug... And then, the gun..." "I did what I promised." Marla returned to herself, and finally turned her apathetic gaze back onto him. "And then your men found me before I could pull the trigger on myself."
23,892	690	5	2,732	5,726	Lieu: Traitement des survivants Ember essayait toujours d'envelopper son cerveau autour de tout. Il semblait juste trop beau d'être vrai qu'il y avait un endroit entier qui était à l'abri des fous. On pourrait penser qu'elle aurait entendu des rumeurs sur l'endroit avant, mais elle avait été complètement prise en garde quand ces soldats l'ont trouvée dans les bois. Si seulement ils étaient arrivés bientôt alors peut-être Orion... Elle s'est secoué la tête. Non, n'y va pas. Il n'y aura pas si ou peut-être pas. Ce qui s'est passé n'a servi à rien de s'inquiéter du passé. Son frère était mort et elle ne lui faisait pas de bonnes idées sur la spéculation aurait pu arriver. Orion voulait qu'elle vive et c'est exactement ce qu'elle allait faire; elle allait vivre pour son frère et pour Willow et ses parents. Elle était seule maintenant et elle a mieux accepté ce fait maintenant. La petite fille a levé la tête de ses genoux et scanné autour de ses compagnons survivants. Elle a été choquée de voir combien il y en avait et a été un peu mal à l'aise après son cambriolage avec l'homme heureux qui a tiré sur son frère. Il avait été la première personne saine d'esprit qu'ils avaient rencontrée depuis un moment et regardez ce qui s'était passé. Encore une fois. Qu'est-ce que c'était que la folie? Tout le monde devait être un peu fou pour pouvoir fonctionner dans le monde dans lequel il vivait. Les faibles sont morts. C'est aussi simple que ça. Ember devait devenir plus forte sinon elle rencontrerait le même sort que sa famille. Son attention a été prise par un homme criant deux noms, probablement sa famille. Elle espérait juste qu'ils étaient ici et qu'ils n'étaient pas morts. Un bruit soudain l'a tirée de son examen de l'homme et a attiré son regard vers le soldat qui patrouillait au-dessus. Pourquoi... Pourquoi était-il par terre? Est-ce qu'il est tombé? Poussé? Il était mort? "Laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaadiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeees et messieurs! Merci d'avoir visité le Rig, nous espérons vous revoir bientôt. "Pousse-toi!" Ember se branla de surprise alors que la voix de l'homme montait sur la passerelle et que son regard lui tirait dessus et se mit à zéro sur les deux objets verts qu'il tenait. Il lui a fallu une seconde pour enregistrer ce qu'ils étaient, mais une fois qu'il l'a fait, Ember sautait sur ses pieds bien qu'elle ne savait pas vraiment qu'elle pouvait de là-bas. Le plus solide! Il avait toujours ses armes! Elle a pleuré mais l'homme qu'elle avait remarqué plus tôt avait apparemment la même idée et a arraché le fusil et a tiré quelques balles sur l'homme infecté au-dessus d'eux. L'objectif pourrait être amélioré mais il a obtenu le travail fait alors que l'homme foudroyé s'est endormi contre le mur. Ember a laissé un souffle doux, espérant que c'était fini pour l'instant. "SEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, Qu'est-ce qu'il y a? Ember a pris l'arme qui a commencé à pimenter les gens pleins de trous et a laissé sortir un cri involontaire. La pièce a éclaté dans le chaos avec des gens qui ont poussé chacun pour sortir de la ligne de vue et même certains traînent les gens devant eux pour les utiliser comme boucliers. Le petit corps d'Ember a été frappé contre le mur contre lequel elle s'était reposée par l'écrasement des corps, sa tête rebondissant sur la surface. Elle s'est endormie là-bas, le monde tourne autour d'elle. C'est alors qu'un homme a reçu une balle dans le cerveau et est tombé sur elle quand elle a essayé de monter odieux à ses pieds. Elle laissa un petit cri alors que le poids mort l'envoyait frapper vers le sol, tout l'air étant expulsé de ses poumons. Elle s'est allongée là, bouffant alors qu'elle essayait de reprendre son souffle. Quelque chose de chaud et collant s'infiltrait dans l'arrière de sa chemise et elle tremblait à la sensation, pleurnichant alors qu'elle essayait de se déplacer de l'homme légèrement obèse mais incapable de bouger un pouce. Elle s'est serré les yeux et a prié pour que tout cela soit bientôt fini.	Ember Marie Forrester \| Female \| Age 9 ”Monsters that live inside my head at night are all right cause they can never compare to the ones that live outside.” _Appearance_ At 3’0, Ember could be described as petite and slender. Her skin is blemish free aside from a few scars on her hands and knees from falling. Her long dark curls hung to her waist and she has bright blue eyes like her brother. She is not very strong though she has quite a kick. She normally dresses in leggings, a skirt, a shirt, a jacket and running shoes. _Nationality_ White. To be more specific, she is Irish, understands Gaelic but her family moved to the U.S. where she was born. _Surviving Family_ None. _Former Occupation_ She was a student though she did help her mother out at the clinic so she picked up a few medical skills though it is mostly basic first aid. _Strengths_ ♦ She is very good at being quiet and sneaking around. ♦ Light on her feet. ♦ Quick reflexes and nimble fingers. ♦ Her brother taught her how to set traps and how to shoot a gun as well as a small bow. _Weaknesses_ ♦ She tries to see the good in everybody and this at times will keep her from seeing the evil there as well. ♦ She doesn’t think if someone is in trouble, she tends to just rush to help without thinking of the consequences. ♦ Bottling up her problems and pain. No one can help if they don’t know what’s wrong with her. _Personality_ Ember is normally described as a kind and caring individual. She tends to put others needs before her own and won't hesitate to help someone if she feels they are in need of assistance. She also has her shy moments where she tends to look at the ground and not really talk to anyone. She gets nervous when meeting new people and doesn't speak much until she gets to know them better. Despite all of this, Ember has a stubborn streak like her brother and will not budge if she sets her mind to something. She's not one to anger easily but once she is watch out because she can have quite the temper and is not afraid to give you a piece of her mind. Of course, afterwards she will be completely mortified by what she said and will apologize profusely to the person she grew angered at. If she thinks they deserve it that is. If she feels you completely had what was coming to you, not one word of apology will leave her lips though secretly she will still feel rather bad about it. Another trait of Ember's is that she has a bad habit of bottling up her problems so the people around her will not worry. Even if she is having the worst day imaginable she will still put on a smile and say everything is fine. _Backstory_ Ember was born the youngest of three children to parents Luna and Mark Forrester, an Irish couple that meet in high school. Her older brother lived in Ireland with their parents until he was eight before they had to move overseas due to their father’s work. There, the small family settled down in the U.S. When her brother was ten years old, Luna found out she was pregnant with twin girls. Orion was so happy at the fact that he was going to be a big brother and often lay next to his mother and talked to the girls growing in her womb. When the twins were born, Orion fell in love with Ember and Willow from the moment he held them. As they grew, he was always there. He witnessed their first step and he felt so thrilled when Ember’s first word was not “mama” or “dada”, but Ri, as close as she could come to his name. Their parents firmly believed in their culture and so Orion and the twins knew how to speak English as well as Gaelic. The day the world had gone to hell was the day the family had gone out to celebrate Ember making really good grades in school. As they finished dinner, screams broke out from outside and as everyone in the restaurant stared in shock, a man fell through the doors, another man attached to him and trying to spit at him. As more people ran by the window being chased by others, chaos broke out. Orion scooped up Ember, her mother grabbed Willow and they ran for their car. They made it to the car without encountering anyone though one man tried to jump Orion's father though he quickly was introduced to Orion's fist. Guess those fighting lessons paid off. The family drove through the streets and holed themselves up in their house. Their father had a habit of hoarding food and that paid off in the end. Sadly, as much as they tried to conserve it, their food ran out about a month later. Their father decided to go see what he could scavenge but unfortunately he didn't come home that night. The family waited two days, praying he would come home safely but he never did. Not able to take it anymore, their mother instructed Orion to look after the girls and headed out in search of her husband. She didn't come home that night either. Orion didn't know what to do. He couldn't just leave the girls there alone while he tried to find their parents but they also couldn't stay inside or they would starve. He decided they needed to leave, to go find their parents or food. He took the girl's hands and the trio quietly stuck out of their house. They used allies and other back roads to make it to a convenience store without being seen. Orion told the girls to wait quietly while he went inside. He managed to get in and out without much problem but things quickly grew dangerous when an infected woman spotted him and charged at him screaming. He grabbed Ember and Willow, taking off as more infected chased them. At one point Willow tripped and was grabbed before Orion could save her. As her screams filled the air, Orion tucked Ember against him and ran as hard as he could. After that day, the two didn't stay in one place for too long. They got lucky for a time, not really running into danger. But their luck had to run out at some point. They meet another survivor but it was anything but a happy meeting. The trigger-happy man went by the "shoot first, ask questions later" philosophy and managed to clip Orion in the side. The siblings managed to hide in the forest but Ember only knew basic first-aid and soon Orion's wound grew infected. He passed away a week later and Ember was left to wander the forest by herself. It was then that she meet the marines from the Rig and now here she is.
23,893	690	6	1,182	1,253	Le chaos s'était brisé assez rapidement. Tout était flou. Un Jamie inquiet avait ses bras autour d'elle et Kahleen enveloppait ses bras serrés autour de la femme. Je m'en tiens à la vie chère. Rien autour d'elle n'avait de sens pour elle en ce moment. Elle avait l'impression que tout ça était irréel. Mais le cœur battant dans sa poitrine lui a dit à quel point c'était réel. La partie la plus effrayante était probablement qu'ils étaient sur une plate-forme au milieu de la mer et le virus a fait le tour parmi les gardes. Il n'y avait pas d'échappatoire de l'île de métal. Au bout du compte, ils devront se battre. Cette réalisation a frappé Kahleen durement. Elle n'a jamais eu à mettre fin à une vie. Mais au même moment, elle savait, pour Jamie, qu'elle ferait n'importe quoi. Kahleen Cuthald était trop profonde dans son esprit pour remarquer l'ouverture de la porte doucement et une autre vague de panique les a frappés. Elle a remarqué le danger trop tard. Avec un bras, elle a poussé Jamie derrière elle-même et l'a taguée au sol pour la protéger. Elle n'aurait jamais pensé qu'elle aurait le courage de le faire dans une situation menaçante. Kahleen a été surprise qu'elle ne se soit pas seulement échappée pour se protéger. Elle n'entendait pas plus que des cris et des coups de feu en l'air. La femme était à moitié au courant de tous les corps tombés au sol. Son cœur battait dans ses oreilles, rendant difficile de se concentrer sur n'importe quoi, mais une solution qui sauve la vie. La brune était certaine qu'elle serait morte dans un battement de cœur. Une jeune femme blonde a utilisé le gardien frappé comme bouclier de protection, elle a tenu une arme dans sa main. Pourquoi n'a-t-elle pas pensé à ça? Ou n'importe quoi d'autre, sauf ça. Kahleen s'est maudite parce qu'elle n'a pas agi plus intelligemment, parce qu'elle n'a pas fait quelque chose de plus efficace. Mais il était trop tard. Elle a eu une seconde pour réagir et elle l'a gâché.	Name: Jamie Alycia Reyes Job before all this: Chef at a fancy restaurant Location: USA, NY, Ohio Age: 23 Appearance: Blonde long hair, sparlking blue eyes, heart warming smile, sporty Personality: kind to everyone, super protective, badass on the street, loyal and honest, lies make her go mad, not afraid to say what has to be said, or do what has to be done, her father was a surgeon there she got her medical knowledge from, but he died of cancer when she was 19, she loves animals and is vegeterian Lover: Kahleen Cuthald (for 3 years), lesbian All of the above is what I imagine her like. Please feel free to adjust and change her to your pleasure. But make sure it fits Kahleen Cuthald's story please. If anyone is interested, be my guest. Edit: Character has been taken over. Thank you.
23,894	690	7	571	277	Ce costume stupide démange Nat pensait à elle-même. Le tissu égratigneux ne se sentait pas bien sur sa peau sèche, et elle ne pouvait pas aider mais s'arracher comme il frottait contre ses bras. Son coude brossé contre l'homme qui se tenait à côté d'elle, "Désolé" elle murmura à travers les dents serrées. Nat était en colère, les lumières étaient trop brillantes, les gens autour d'elle sentaient aussi mauvais qu'elle, et il y avait des gardes armés autour d'eux. Sa main a rasé ses cheveux sales et non peignés et elle a commencé à les séparer en trois sections. Respirant profondément, elle s'est mise à tresser et à ne pas brouiller ses longs cheveux, c'était une technique qu'elle avait apprise pour aider à se calmer. Dernièrement, elle avait beaucoup tressé ses cheveux. Nat était légèrement plus courte que la moyenne, et elle devait se tenir sur ses orteils pour voir au-dessus des têtes des gens autour d'elle. En s'entrainant le cou, elle a essayé de voir n'importe quoi qui l'aiderait à trouver où elle était. Une bosse s'est formée à l'arrière de sa gorge. Swallowing dur, elle a essayé de ne pas laisser ses nerfs obtenir le meilleur d'elle. En regardant autour d'elle, elle a remarqué un garde, se penchant contre la rampe. Nat l'a regardé bâiller et se moquer d'elle-même, doit être dur qu'elle pensait. Elle a fait un contact visuel et a tenu son regard pendant un long moment et lui a souri humblement. Finalement, elle se détourna, tirant sur la manche de la fille devant elle. Vous savez quoi que ce soit sur cet endroit?Elle a murmuré nerveusement à l'autre survivant. "Laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaadiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeees et messieurs! Merci d'avoir visité le Rig, nous espérons vous revoir bientôt. "Pousse-toi!" Flincing, Nat's pensait que c'était pour attraper l'arme qui avait glissé à travers le sol. Malheureusement, quelqu'un l'avait battue aussi. Heureusement, c'était un bon tireur pour tout ce que ça valait. Il a pulvérisé l'homme infecté avec des balles et Nat l'a regardé tomber au sol. C'est quoi, ça? Elle a dit avec excitation, son cœur battant dans sa poitrine. Une goutte de sueur dans le dos. Une poussée d'adrénaline l'avait sauvée de la peur, mais elle savait qu'elle s'enfoncerait bientôt. "SEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, putain de baise était tout ce que Nat pouvait penser à elle-même comme elle a vu le pistolet dans la main foudroyée de l'homme. Dieu merci, elle était vers le milieu de la foule et pas juste devant. En tombant dans une croûte, elle cherchait frénétiquement quelque chose, tout ce qu'elle pouvait utiliser à son avantage. Les gens sont tombés autour d'elle, de la terre, Nat a pu voir une femme blonde avec bientôt des cheveux coupés. Elle voyait clairement que sa main tenait une petite arme. Sans hésiter, Nat plongea dans son estomac et se mit à ramper à travers la mer de civils vers elle. Le sol semblait s'étendre sur un kilomètre. En poussant à travers les corps, Nat ne pouvait même pas dire qui était vivant et qui n'était pas. Elle a établi un contact visuel avec une jeune fille, et a essayé de ne pas avoir peur pour l'amour de l'enfant. S'il vous plaît, laissez-moi aller à elle, s'il vous plaît En montant aux pieds des filles blondes, Nat a soufflé de courts souffles d'air à travers ses lèvres et a essayé de déplacer le corps de l'homme inconscient d'elle. C'est vrai! Elle s'en est pris à elle, oubliant de parler anglais dans son état frénétique. Elle a essayé d'expliquer à la jeune fille. Sans attendre, Nat a pris le pistolet de ses mains, l'a couverte une fois de plus du bouclier humain, et s'est accroupie bas pour prendre le but. Alors que l'homme se déplaçait dans la pièce, tout pour Nataliya s'est calmé. Tout ce qu'elle entendait, c'était sa propre respiration. Elle a pris un moment, une fraction de seconde dans la réalité mais une éternité dans son esprit, pour serrer ses mains. L'adrénaline la faisait mal agiter. Elle a maintenu ses mains et a pris le but. De la façon dont elle était assise, elle pouvait clairement voir les jambes de l'homme infecté. Ne perdant pas de temps, Nat inhala lentement et exhala. Elle a tiré trois coups séparés, un dans chaque jambe et un autre sans viser après qu'il soit tombé. J'espère qu'elle l'a frappé dans un bon endroit.	Name: Nataliya Arnikova Gender: Female Age: 25 Nationality: Latvian/Russian Surviving Family: A brother, maybe? Former Occupation: Worked on a farm with her grandparents Appearance: Nataliya, or Nat for short, is a rather average looking girl. She stands at 5’4” and was roughly 135 lbs last time she checked. Working on the farm has given her strong arms and legs, and the muscle definition can clearly be seen. Her eyes are a light green, speckled with brown and her skin has a warm tan to it. Her hands are rough and calloused, from years of hard work. Backstory: My whole family, grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins, everyone, moved from Russia over to the small country of Latvia when I was very little. I remember very little of that time, but I do remember the long train ride from St. Petersburg all the way to Riga, Latvia. My grandparents had bought a small farm just outside of the capital and for a very long time all of us, all 15 or 16 of us, lived in that small wooden cottage. Soon, my parents bought an apartment in the city, but I chose to stay with Papa and Nana. On the farm we had two goats, a mother and her son, a cow, a flock of chickens and the various cats and dogs that would come and go as they pleased. My grandparents were old, and Papa had suffered a stroke back in Russia so his mobility was limited. But together we planted fruits and vegetables, we looked after our small patch of land and even renovated the house a bit. Because of this, I’m good at identifying plants, hunting and I can chop some wood pretty good if I do say so myself. Living in this remote area, we obviously didn’t get much TV or phone connections. I talked to my parents every few weeks but that was all. Our nearest neighbor was a 15 minute walk away, and the only grocery store in the area was a 30 minute bike ride through the country. That… that’s why we didn’t hear about the infection. My grandparents probably wouldn’t have believed the news anyways, they were old fashioned like that. One day I came home from a walk and Papa.. my grandfather was acting very strange. Nana was doting over him, saying he was sick and he must rest. She tried to feed him. In a flash he was on her and.. and. I’m sorry, I really don’t want to talk about that anymore. I ran as fast as I could, grabbed my bike and a few supplies and was gone. I didn’t know what was happening, but soon I started seeing those.. those things, just like my Grandpa, all over. They just kept multiplying. My neighbors, the store owner, nowhere was safe. I went to the only place I knew, the forest behind my house. I biked and walked through there for days.. weeks. I stayed close to the edge, where all the farms were, and occasionally went out to scavenge for food. I slept in the trees. Turns out, those things can’t climb very well. And if they can, they make enough of a racket to wake me up. I.. I don’t think my parents made it. They were never the smart ones. They probably ignored the news and kept on living their lives. My brother.. my brother is 16, and he’s always been the smartest in the family! He was a straight A student, and excelled in sports and all sorts of things.. I hope.. somehow.. I’m sorry.. can we talk about something else now?
23,895	690	8	26	2,681	Etzer Kilono Traitement des survivants Etzer s'assit de manière somnolente dans le coin de la cellule de confinement. Ses mains étaient attachées ensemble, les coudes sur ses genoux, et la tête tombant paresseusement sur le côté. Ses cheveux ressemblaient à une plante brun louche assise sur sa tête, où il traitait des pensées dans son esprit étourdi. Il dormait alors qu'il s'éveillait avec un début. Il n'avait pas pu dormir depuis... C'est arrivé. Il n'a pu que s'évanouir avant de se réveiller une fois de plus. En conséquence de cette main de sacs formé sous ses yeux solennels, lui donnant l'impression d'un sans-abri. Trouver sa tentative de dormir inutile, avec un peu de difficulté, il s'est levé de sa position assise, et a étendu son corps faible. On pouvait entendre des cris sur la promenade au-dessus des survivants, et en quelques secondes, un corps est tombé de la promenade dans leur cellule. Un homme manifestement infecté se tenait sur la passerelle, tenant à de petites orbes vertes dans ses mains. C'est pas vrai. Sans avertissement, un rugissement fort a éclaté de leur cellule, l'endroit, un homme tenant l'arme des soldats morts. Etzer sentit son cœur frapper dans sa poitrine avec la vitesse et la férocité de la mitrailleuse qui venait d'être tirée. Un cri sonnait alors à travers la cellule. "HHHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHHHHHHHNNNNNNNNNYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE En criant, Etzer pouvait voir la porte de la cellule légèrement ouverte, et le museau d'un pistolet se balançant. Etzer s'est écrasé au sol, atterrissant sur le soldat mort. En écoutant attentivement, il entendait un bruit bourdonnant venant du corps. C'était le casque. Il l'a attrapée et l'a placée sur sa tête. Il a saisi le micro et a parlé aussi clair que sa voix tremblante le pouvait. À l'aide! Au secours! Ça vient de Survivor Processing! Il y a un infecté qui essaie de percer la porte! Nous avons besoin de quelqu'un ici, sinon, nous serons infectés, et vous aurez un problème encore plus grand sur vos mains!" Etzer nouveau que les infectés n'essayaient pas de percer la porte, il les tuait juste, sans avoir l'intention de les infecter. Il savait parfaitement bien, mais il devait faire tout ce qu'il pouvait pour sortir de cet enfer.	Name: Etzer Kilono Gender: Male Age: 29 Nationality: From California Surviving Family: None that he knows of Former Occupation: Worked at a Donut Shop Backstory: Etzer lived in California with his mother and sister. Ever since his rich dad divorced his mom and left them alone with barely any money, Etzer has been living with them. Since his mom had to work to jobs, she had the car, while his sister was put in a cheap daycare. This went on for eight months before T-1C. The daycare his sister was in was raided by those... Things, and they killed everyone in it. He then watched his mother's throat get torn open, the jugular gushing blood like a fountain. He ran, and ran. It was all he could ever think about, all he could ever do. He eventually found an abandoned house, and lived of canned food, as he didn't want to risk anything that had been left out. After a week, living in an abandoned house, Etzer was surrounded by the things. He grabbed a knife, and killed them. It was the first time he ever killed, and something triggered inside him that told him it wouldn't be the last. Etzer moved from that house once it was torn up, and all the food was gone. He traveled, his food and water slowly diminishing, as well as his hope. The world had gone to shit, and his was on his own, the last drops of water in his bottle, stayed there until he couldn't bare it anymore and drank it. He was worn out, thirsty, hungry, weak, and soon, was almost lifeless. He laid on the ground and waited for the infected to come, but they didn't. He was left their to suffer. He was on the ground for a day. Only when he woke up, did he hear the screams of the infected around him. Only then, was he hopeful that he walls be put out of his dreadful misery. But he wasn't. That's when the rescue teams came in. He asked and asked to be killed, but they weren't having any of it. They gave him water, and it refreshed him, replenished him, into a new person. He wasn't weak anymore, he wasn't unstable. He was Etzer, the Badass Donut Shop guy who could kill an infected person. With that cheesy moral support he gave himself, he was able to hang on, and make it to the rig, which is where his story ends. It's not the most exciting, or, 'life-saving' story, but it was what happened. Appearance: Etzer is tall, standing at exactly 6'0. He is built strong, but what he went through wore him down, and now while he is built strong, he doesn't have the strength needed to accommodate his body. His once shoulder length brown hair, is cut short. He has soft brown eyes, but while they appear soft, they can become steel, and unforgiving at any moment. Besides his eyes, also decorating his face are many scars, indicated he's had a rough time out there.
23,896	690	9	1,049	334	John agitait violemment le soldat qui était sur le terrain, essayant de le réveiller. "Allez, allez, allez!" Le corps de l'homme a simplement flippé dans ses bras. Ça a dû être une dure chute. "Réveillez-vous" "SEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, Au début, John pensait que quelqu'un qu'il connaissait était dans la pièce en criant son nom, mais cette pensée a été rapidement abattue. Tout à fait littéralement. John s'est mis à zéro sur les cris, et a vu la muselière éclater à travers la petite fissure qui était apparue dans la porte. Il était accompagné par les coups d'oreille qui éclataient d'un fusil. L'homme était peut-être complètement fou, mais il était un soldat entraîné, et ses courtes explosions déchiraient la foule; les gens tombaient pratiquement à gauche et à droite. Ils se méfiaient complètement les uns des autres en tant que personnes. Pousser, pousser, tout pour s'assurer qu'ils sont sortis vivants. C'était le chaos total. John envisageait de tirer sur la personne infectée, mais ce tir serait probablement difficile même pour un tireur talentueux. Il a enlevé son doigt de la gâchette et a tiré loin de la foule, trébuchant sur les corps comme il l'a fait. Il se trouva à nouveau pressé contre un mur, son corps s'accroupit pour se rendre le plus petit possible. Ses genoux se sont levés pour couvrir ses éléments vitaux. "Pensez, réfléchissez, réfléchissez. Merde." John a sondé la pièce, essayant de chercher une solution. Il a noté que certaines personnes s'étaient réfugiées sous les morts. "Peut-être devrais-je..." Sa voix traînait alors qu'il réalisait que n'importe qui dans la pièce pouvait être infecté, se cacher sous un corps ensanglanté pourrait entraîner une contamination. Soudain, la pièce était calme, et John retourna à la réalité. Il n'avait pas vu le soldat fou entrer dans la pièce, ou la personne qui avait tiré sur ses jambes le faisant tomber. C'était sa chance. John s'est précipité et a couru sur le blessé fou, frappant deux personnes comme il l'a fait. La folle était encore en vie, et se remettait rapidement des balles. Son bras droit tendait la main, embrayant le fusil qu'il avait lâché. Sa main gauche était un gâchis complet, les doigts s'accroupissant par de simples fils. Sans doute l'endroit où la troisième balle avait touché. Un regard de sauvagerie pure a été plâtré sur son visage. "Je vais souffler et je vais souffler!" Il a pointé le baril sur deux survivants qui lui criaient dessus, suppliant pour leur vie. Quelques secondes avant qu'il ne puisse appuyer sur la gâchette, la botte de John s'est heurtée à son visage. Il y avait une pop audible quand sa mâchoire s'est cassée. "Non!" John a crié faiblement. L'impact a été dur et le visage du soldat s'est branlé sur le côté, le sang et les dents s'envolèrent et éclaboussèrent sur le sol. John a dirigé son arme sur lui, mais le fou était plus rapide. Même avec deux jambes blessées et une mâchoire cassée, l'infecté a réussi à saisir la jambe droite de John avec sa main sanglante, et à la balayer de dessous lui. John s'est écrasé sur le sol en frappant dur. Il a doublé dans la douleur, le soldat ne lui a pas donné le temps de récupérer, cependant, et a saisi sa jambe à nouveau. Cette fois, il se tirait sur John. "Tu veux échanger des crachats?" Il s'est coincé la langue alors qu'il se tirait, la moitié inférieure de sa mâchoire oscillant d'un côté à l'autre. "Oh putain!" John s'est éparpillé. Il a frénétiquement commencé à frapper le fou, sa botte claque contre son visage plusieurs fois. Ce salaud n'arrêtait pas de venir, malgré ses blessures. John s'est aveuglé les mains autour de lui, essayant de trouver le fusil qu'il tenait il y a quelques instants. Une jambe. Chaussures. Cheveux. Métal! John a saisi la poignée du fusil, l'a balancé sur son corps et l'a dirigé sur le visage maintenant contorsionné qui essayait de le mauler. "Au revoir Johnny!" Il a crié en appuyant simultanément sur la détente. Les balles lui ont arraché la tête, essuyant le sourire malade de l'existence. Même après que le clip ait été vide, le doigt de John était toujours en train de serrer la gâchette.	Name: John Hemmy Gender: Male Age: 20 Nationality: United States/White Surviving Family: Sister and Niece Former Occupation: Fry Cook/was looking into college Backstory: The doctor motioned with his right hand for John to look at the camera as he spoke. He took a deep breath, and slowly let it out before before speaking. “Well, uh, I was working the first night that it hit my town. No one had really expected it, we were led to believe that the virus hadn’t made it down that far south yet. It was around eleven at night when I first encountered someone who was infected. “My boss was going over some paperwork, and I was counting the inventory. I was in the walk in cooler when I heard the commotion coming from his office. Sounded like he, uh, smashed his window. I didn’t want to go in there, ‘cause I thought he was mad again. He had an awful temper, did shit like that all the time. But I had to run in there when he started screaming my name. When I rounded the corner to his office, I saw him, uh, fighting off what I thought was a pissed off customer. The customer was flailing a bat around, and my boss was using his barstool to keep him at a distance. “I didn’t really have time to think about it, so I just tackled the customer, and kept him pinned to the floor while my boss called the police. I didn’t realize it at the time, you know, that he was infected, but it clicked once my boss told me that he was trying to spit on him. I had heard that they can spread the virus with bodily fluids, is that true?” John asked, the doctor nodded his head yes. John cleared his throat and began again, “The next couple of days were pretty weird. No one was allowed to leave their house, complete lockdown. Such a stupid idea, people were practically trapped in their homes. Didn’t, uh, take long for the infected to start ripping the city apart. I tried going to my parents house to get them out, wanted to get everyone in the family out alive. When I got there…” John’s voice trailed off, “Well...you know. I tried my sister next, I was happy to find them alive. Her and my niece hopped in my truck, and we left town through the, uh, backroads. No particular destination in mind. “We stayed together for a few weeks, scavenging for food and fuel. I’d go into the towns, and she would watch the truck. Until about a month ago when we got separated. I was on my way back to the truck, when I saw the infected around the two of them; they were creeping up on the truck. I yelled for her to start the truck and drive away, then I got the attention of the all the infected and made them chase me. I don’t, uh, know how long I ran. It was definitely the longer than I ever had before. The infected were screaming and shouting the entire time they were chasing. I don’t know if I lost them, or if they just got bored and quit following. But about two hours after that, I collapsed in some woods and fell asleep. Woke up a few hours later, I was lost but still alive. And then for a month, I was alone. “Only saw two other sane people, but they didn’t last long. I was hiding in a, uh, dumpster while the two strangers got beat to death by a group of the infected. I’m sure the marines here would have jumped in to save those people, but I was scared. Fear keeps you alive out there,” John cleared his throat, “Anyway, uh, that’s pretty much my whole story. I found you guys two days ago, almost got shot introducing myself, and now I’m here.” John sighed, happy to have the interview done with. The doctor gave a gentle nod and shut the camera off. Appearance: John is 6 feet tall, and weighs around 125. Before the outbreak he had a healthier weight, and a slim athletic build, but the lack of food has thinned him out a little. Without any barbers around to have taken care of him, John’s hair has become uncharacteristically long; stopping just at his shoulders. His once full face, is now sunken and bruised. The overall rugged appearance makes his hazel eye color seem to pop. ((The appearance is a bit a rough, but it's four in the morning so it'll have to do for now.))
23,897	690	10	858	734	Docteur Myles Morgan, PHD en biologie moléculaire. Université Harvard. Situé : U.N Rally Point #601-341 Salle de contrôle Le docteur Morgan a regardé les moniteurs de sécurité avec fascination, son esprit scientifique pompe avec curiosité. Tous les coups de feu, les explosions et les cris d'une distraction lointaine, à laquelle il a prêté peu d'attention. Même le colonel Williams maudit frénétiquement les profanités à une radio à l'extrémité de la pièce à peine a-t-il réussi à travers l'intérêt profondément enraciné du Docteur. "Amazing, c'est incroyable. Comment savent-ils, sans même interagir avec eux?" Le docteur Morgan s'est amusé, trop pris dans ce qu'il voyait pour bien vocaliser ses pensées. Des pas lourds mais bien ajustés, du cuir giflant sur le métal, s'approchant du Docteur par derrière, puis une lourde main secoua l'épaule. Morgan a levé les yeux, et a vu le visage ardent du colonel Williams lui cracher de l'acide. Le commandant de la Marine n'était pas infecté, il est venu par là parfois. "Mes hommes sont en train de mourir!" Williams a crié. "Votre scientifique nous a baisés, il nous a tous baisés. Nous devons appeler en grève." Le docteur Morgan sourit, un geste qui irrita le colonel et le poussa à mi-chemin jusqu'au point de rupture. -- N'importe quoi, colonel. Pourquoi ferions-nous ça? » -- Parce que dans une quinzaine de minutes, les seules personnes sensées de ce Rig vont être toi et moi! le colonel a crié, son visage s'est tordu dans une colère amère. "Vous types de putain de science, trop loin dans votre propre cul pour réaliser quand dire'stop!'; tu as baisé le monde, tu as baisé mes hommes, et maintenant tu me baises!" Le docteur Morgan a continué à sourire, comme un professeur souriait à un enfant de cinq ans qui pensait qu'il avait compris comment le monde fonctionnait. "Pourquoi pensez-vous que les infectés essaient de tuer les survivants, au lieu de les contaminer?" Le colonel lui a serré les yeux : "Je m'en fous. Appelez une grève, ou je vous libère de votre commandement." Avec un soupir, Morgan a enlevé ses lunettes de lecture et a commencé à les essuyer contre son costume, "C'est parce qu'ils sont vraiment immunisés, Colonel." Les yeux du colonel William s'élargissaient : Personne n'est immunisé contre le T-1C." "J'ai bien peur que vous ayez tort, Colonel. Leurs analyses de sang sont revenues négatives, mais il y avait quelque chose d'intéressant que nous avons aussi découvert. Il semble que leur sang soit er, spécial," Morgan a poursuivi, se faisant tenir. "Trente secondes pour expliquer, Doc, et puis j'appelle la grève", a dit le colonel avec fermeté, une main sur sa radio. « Lorsqu'ils sont exposés au T-1C, leurs globules rouges dissolvent simplement les protéines qui s'attachent à eux. C'est bizarre, et je ne peux pas l'expliquer - pas encore. Il arrête l'infection à son cœur, l'empêche de se déplacer vers le cerveau, et l'annihile dans l'ordre court. Ces hommes et ces femmes sont des colonels spéciaux, ils détiennent la clé de la survie de la race humaine. Appeler en grève serait... le plus imprudent », a expliqué le docteur Morgan, toujours souriant. Le colonel a eu du mal à sortir les mots : "Vous voulez dire qu'il y a un moyen de sortir de ce cauchemar?" Le docteur a hurlé, "c'est bien Colonel. Le seul problème, c'est qu'ils sont tous en bas, et nous sommes tous en haut." Le colonel Williams était à mi-chemin de la pièce avant que le docteur n'ait fini de parler. Il a étudié un écran plat de 50 pouces avec une interface tactique en direct qui lui a donné toutes les informations dont il avait besoin pour connaître ses hommes; la moitié étaient morts, la moitié étaient probablement fous, mais il y avait un certain capitaine il savait qu'il pouvait compter sur. "Capitaine Pliskin, passez au canal six." "Affirmatif." Le colonel a fait passer le cadran de la chaîne sur la chaîne radio à la chaîne six, ce qui réduirait la quantité de goutteuses d'oreilles, puisque la chaîne six était réservée uniquement aux officiers du Rig, et ne produirait que statique pour quiconque tentait d'écouter. Bien sûr, il y avait deux autres capitaines, un groupe de lieutenants et quelque part, Major Barnes. Néanmoins, cela aiderait à réduire les chances de sonner par inadvertance une cloche de dîner. "Capitaine, quel est votre statut?" Le colonel a demandé. Des coups de feu distordus ont éclaté de la radio, "les choses sont vraiment pêcheuses ici, Colonel." « Compris capitaine, mais il semble que nous ayons une cargaison précieuse dans Survivor Processing qui a besoin de se mettre en haut. Pouvez-vous intercepter et extraire?" Encore des coups de feu, puis une explosion. "Affirmatif." Puis le colonel s'est souvenu de sa mise en garde, "et Pliskin, qu'est-ce qui est sept fois sept?" "Quarante-neuf." Williams soupira de soulagement, "Dieu accélère son fils. Je renverrai tout le personnel non infecté à votre poste. » Jamie Alycia Reyes Lieu: Traitement des survivants En l'espace d'une soixantaine de secondes, la chambre Jamie et Kahleen s'étaient retrouvées dans un cauchemar sanglant; les corps vêtus de blanc étaient éparpillés, leurs salopettes devenant roses avec du sang. Les blessés criaient à l'aide, tandis que ceux qui avaient la chance d'éviter le barrage aveugle du soldat s'efforçaient de rester calmes. À travers tout cela, Jamie avait cogné Kahleen avec la force d'un ours enragé, trop stupéfait par la panique pour penser à autre chose. Elle avait attendu un coup de fusil pour les frapper tous les deux d'une seconde, mais ça n'est jamais arrivé. Il y avait quelques malédictions, les sons d'une lutte évidente, une série de coups d'oreille, et puis rien. Jamie a ouvert les yeux, et a regardé sur le bras de Kahleen. Le grand et lanky gars avec le fusil était occupé à abattre les restes de leur agresseur; il était couvert de sang et de fragments de crâne. "Whoa, whoa, whoa," Jamie cria, s'entraînant elle-même et Kahleen à leurs pieds. "Il est infecté, tout le monde s'éloigne de lui!" Elle pointa un doigt sur l'homme, et ceux qui le pouvaient reculèrent. Capitaine Iroquois Pliskin, Corps des Marines des États-Unis Located: Au-dessus du traitement des survivants Iroquois ne savait pas ce qui les rendait si spéciaux dans Survivor Processing, mais il savait que qui qu'ils soient, ils étaient importants. Le Rig était allé en Enfer ; l'humanité bestiait encore une fois par son propre égarement. Si le colonel l'envoyait en mission suicide pour se rendre chez les Survivants, alors soit il était devenu fou lui-même, soit il y avait quelque chose de vraiment de la plus haute importance à trouver là-bas. Il a tourné le coin d'un couloir, et s'est figé. Il est tombé à un genou et a mis deux de ses camarades directement dans ses yeux. "Huit fois six", a-t-il appelé. Les deux hommes se sont tournés vers lui, leurs fusils se sont levés et prêts. Il les a peut-être pris au dépourvu, ils ont peut-être paniqué. En tout cas, ni l'un ni l'autre n'a fait un effort pour donner une réponse, et il a donc pressé la gâchette; deux robinets cliniques, et les marines se sont effondrés au sol. Ce n'était pas idéal, mais Iroquois ne prenait aucun risque. Il ne pouvait pas. Il s'est déplacé dans le couloir, vérifiant chaque coin et râpé avec son fusil. S'il voyait quelqu'un, il tirerait d'abord et poserait des questions plus tard. Dans un environnement proche, face à face avec quelqu'un d'autre qui peut être ami ou ennemi, la fusillade était la seule option qu'un homme raisonnable pouvait prendre. Un fusil tournait sur le mur à côté de lui; l'écho du coup de feu se précipitait sur lui. Il est tombé au sol, a roulé, a pointé son M4A1 à travers ses genoux et a pressé la détente. Un marin est tombé. "C'est bon, bon sang," a murmuré Iroquois. Il s'est emparé de lui-même et a continué. Un virage à droite l'a emmené dans une cage d'escalier, et il l'a suivi. La passerelle l'emmena à l'extérieur de la Rig, et, regardant vers le haut, il pouvait voir de la fumée se gonfler vers le ciel. Ouais, le Rig a été baisé. Les Iroquois ont continué le long de la promenade, et il n'a pas fallu longtemps avant qu'il découvre une trace de sang léger sur la grille métallique. Il l'a suivie jusqu'à ce qu'il arrive à l'entrée de Survivor Processing ; la porte hydraulique était ouverte. En lui braquant la tête autour du coin, il a vu le corps émaillé du sergent Jones éparpillé sur la passerelle suspendue. Rester bas et silencieux, il s'est déplacé au bord de la porte, et a regardé vers le bas dans la chambre. "Yikes", a-t-il murmuré. La pièce était un bain de sang; beaucoup de gens étaient morts là-bas, et il espérait juste que celui qui restait serait suffisant pour satisfaire les paramètres de sa mission. Il a remarqué un homme à genoux par l'entrée du sol, un survivant, tenant un fusil d'assaut fumant et couvert dans le sang de ce qui ressemblait à un marine voisin. Les autres survivants avaient commencé à se retourner contre lui, comme n'importe qui avec un demi-cerveau le ferait. Cela lui dit deux choses: une, que la majorité d'entre eux n'étaient pas infectés, et deux, ils étaient probablement armés. Il n'avait aucune idée de savoir qui était plus important que qui, et donc il a décidé d'intervenir pour éviter plus de victimes. "Demande-lui une question de maths," a crié Iroquois, "l'infecté ne peut pas logiquer pour la merde." Il s'est enfui derrière la sécurité de la porte, au cas où un flot de balles lui arriverait. À l'aide! Au secours! Ça vient de Survivor Processing! Il y a un infecté qui essaie de percer la porte! Nous avons besoin de quelqu'un ici, sinon, nous serons infectés, et vous aurez un problème encore plus grand sur vos mains!" Le colonel et Pliskin avaient changé de canal six avant d'entendre ce petit bijou; un peu d'information vraiment juteuse que les deux auraient aimé connaître. Malheureusement, l'un et l'autre sont restés indifférents au fait que l'un des survivants venait de se lancer la cloche métaphorique du deuil. Chaque soldat infecté sur le Rig était maintenant pleinement conscient que quelqu'un était dans le traitement des survivants et que quelqu'un avait vraiment besoin de se dépêcher et de mourir. Dans les gouttes d'eau et les amas, les vagues et le tonnerre, l'ensemble du 22e Régiment du Corps des Marines des États-Unis y arriverait momentanément, après qu'ils eurent réussi à balayer ceux de leurs camarades qui ont encore contesté l'idée de jeter un enfant nouveau-né dans un mixeur. Bien sûr, le régiment n'était qu'un régiment de nom; son pouvoir de l'homme étant du côté fortement appauvri des choses. Potentiellement, il y avait une centaine de soldats sur le Rig, mais on ne savait pas combien d'entre eux avaient été tués et combien étaient devenus infectés. C'est quelque chose que les survivants devraient découvrir par eux-mêmes.	Name: Jamie Alycia Reyes Job before all this: Michelin Chef Location: USA, NY, Ohio Age: 23 Appearance: Blonde long hair, sparlking blue eyes, heart warming smile, sporty Personality: kind to everyone, super protective, badass on the street, loyal and honest, lies make her go mad, not afraid to say what has to be said, or do what has to be done, her father was a surgeon there she got her medical knowledge from, but he died of cancer when she was 19, she loves animals and is vegetarian. Lover: Kahleen Cuthald (for 3 years), lesbian Background: Jamie has never been one to care much for the opinions of others, and has spent the better part of her life trying to stand firmly away from the crowd. Her parent's expectations of her life meant little, and although she had always loved them, something inside her detested everything they had in store for their "little princess". She was a smart kid, an A grade student, but with a taste for life's more colorful endevours. She would always be found hanging out with kids much older than her, and drugs became a favorite past time of her teenage-self. Not the heavy stuff though, she put the red line firmly at cocaine. At the age of 14, she started to figure out that she wasn't quite like your average girl. Whilst her female friends doted over the class hotties, she found herself doting over aforementioned female friends. There was something that appealed to her more when it came to members of her own gender, than boys. Girls were beautiful, they had curves and oh-so-kissable skin. Men in comparison were rugged and rigid, their frames leaving little for the imagination to truly explore. The young Jamie would take a nice pair of feminine thighs over a hardened and chiseled male abdomen any day. Her parents caught on to her quickly arising sexual orientation early, after stumbling upon her internet search history. Her mother thought it was just a phase, and her father was oddly delighted at the prospect of not having to worry about Jamie getting involved with the "wrong boy". However, when Jamie realized her secret had been uncovered, she tried desperately hard to cover her tracks. She started dating guys, and suppressing her homosexual tendencies. This went on, until she was 19, sitting aside her father's hospital bed. Her father was a good man, kind and caring; his energy knew no bounds when it came to helping others. Yet now, there he was, riddled with cancer and undergoing a painful and undignified death. Jamie cried harder than she ever had, during this dark period of her life, but her father managed to bring this to end with the kind of advice one only reserves for his daughter. "Jamie," he said weakly. "You're not you. You're not my daughter. The Jamie I knew was chaotic, nothing ever got her down; she spent most of her time giving me a heart attack with all those morons you kept bringing home. When she wasn't doing that, she was making her mom's life a misery by doing the exact opposite of what she was told. She didn't sit there brooding about the cards she was dealt, no, she eagerly picked up the deck and played the game. You're your own woman, and as a father's dying wish, I would have you carry on living as one. The world is your oyster, and your freedom is limited only by how much you value the opinions of others. If what they say or think doesn't fit your picture, then do away with them. Better that, than to sit in your death bed, years from now, and regret everything." Her father passed a few hours later, and Jamie walked out of the hospital a changed woman. Or rather, a reverted woman. Her facade was set to crumble; the last few years of trying to be someone she wasn't, quickly became a bad memory. She ended up in a cell that night, after beating her boyfriend to pulp when he touched her inappropriately at an inappropriate time. Her mother secured her bail, and the judge threw the subsequent case out, given the emotional circumstances (her father's recent death). But that was it, she was done with men, she was going back to where she came from. With a kiss on her mom's cheek, she hopped a plane to New York, and threw herself into a simple yet ever present passion: cooking. She bounced from restaurant to restaurant, slowly acquiring qualifications and references, working her way up the culinary ladder, until BAM: she got herself a job at Jean-Georges, a Michelin star French-style restaurant. The work was hard, and the pay could've been better, but she was moments from hitting fame, and she knew it. It was during this time that she met Kahleen, a brown haired German beauty with that kind of feminine perfection that Jamie lusted after. Their meeting was a chance one, at some bus stop on some street that she didn't remember, but they hit it off immediately. Three years of romantic bliss later, and they had themselves their own home, Jamie had gained the position of Head Cheff, and two young women were looking towards a bright future. ... Until T-1C hit the streets, and everything became a nightmare.
23,898	690	11	1,182	1,253	Kahleen Cuthald Kahleen a été surprise quand les deux, elle et Jamie, se sont tenus sans aucun mal. Un coup d'oeil a été clair, que beaucoup n'ont pas eu autant de chance. Dans tout ce chaos, il était difficile de se concentrer. Son instinct lui a dit d'aider les autres, les blessés et les effrayés. Mais sa logique lui a dit de rester loin de tout sauf Jamie. Son regard errait du premier marine au second. Les deux ne peuvent pas bouger. Un mort. L'un d'eux s'est effondré. Lentement, son cerveau s'est réveillé de son état de choc et a recommencé à réfléchir. Armure! Les deux marines portaient toujours une armure habituelle, l'un portant même un casque. Plus de sécurité n'était probablement pas en mesure d'obtenir en ce moment. Elle a attrapé le bras de Jamie pour attirer son attention. "Obtenez l'armure!", elle a dit clairement pointer vers le gardien qui est tombé de la passerelle. Avant que quelqu'un d'autre ne puisse réagir, la femme a sauté sur les corps et pris l'armure de Baxter. Elle a vu Jamie du côté de l'œil suivre ses ordres. Pensant que l'homme de mer avait plus à offrir qu'une armure, elle a fouillé toutes les poches. Kahleen a pris le couteau et le masque à gaz. Elle a saisi les grenades avec les mains tremblantes et le bras de côté du Glock 17 avec la munition appropriée. Elle a laissé le fusil pour quelqu'un qui, espérons-le, n'était pas infecté et pouvait le contrôler mieux qu'elle. En fait, elle était heureuse de pouvoir en saisir autant, parce que d'autres l'ont suivie pour voler le marine mort. Kahleen est revenu de l'homme mort et est passé à Jamie. "Ça va?", demanda - t - elle doucement. La femme inquiète s'est permis un moment d'ignorance - se tenant serré sur son vol cependant - de regarder sa petite amie doucement et tendrement. Tout ce qu'elle voulait c'était qu'ils puissent s'embrasser et mettre fin à ce cauchemar dans lequel ils vivent. Kahleen voulait tellement la tenir dans ses bras sans s'inquiéter. Ses yeux verts regardaient le visage des blondes et s'attardaient sur ses yeux bleus. Ces yeux bleus... elle espérait juste qu'elle les verrait un million d'autres jours. Reste en vie, bébé.	Name: Jamie Alycia Reyes Job before all this: Chef at a fancy restaurant Location: USA, NY, Ohio Age: 23 Appearance: Blonde long hair, sparlking blue eyes, heart warming smile, sporty Personality: kind to everyone, super protective, badass on the street, loyal and honest, lies make her go mad, not afraid to say what has to be said, or do what has to be done, her father was a surgeon there she got her medical knowledge from, but he died of cancer when she was 19, she loves animals and is vegeterian Lover: Kahleen Cuthald (for 3 years), lesbian All of the above is what I imagine her like. Please feel free to adjust and change her to your pleasure. But make sure it fits Kahleen Cuthald's story please. If anyone is interested, be my guest. Edit: Character has been taken over. Thank you.
23,899	690	12	571	277	Natalia était tombée sur ses mains et ses genoux. Panting elle regarda le sol carrelé sous elle et essaya de ne pas pleurer. Elle a essayé de s'entendre avec ce qui vient de se passer. Elle venait de tirer sur un être humain. Eh bien, ce qui restait d'un après l'infection a pris le relais, mais quand même. Au fur et à mesure que l'adrénaline s'écoulait, le corps de Nats a recommencé à se sentir. Il faisait froid dans cette pièce, mais elle ne pouvait pas dire si ses mains tremblaient à cause de cela, ou à cause de la peur. Elle était fatiguée, le costume démangeait encore. Un gémissement d'un civil presque blessé l'a ramenée à la raison. Un homme, pas trop loin, se blottit sur le sol et s'empoignait de sa jambe. L'instinct de Nat était d'aller l'aider. Elle se tourna vers lui, et bougea un pouce avant de réaliser ce qu'il avait oublié. En s'emparant du pistolet dans les mains, elle se retourna vers la blonde derrière la plus solide. Ici, je suis désolé de l'avoir attrapé, sa voix était stable, même si son cœur battait encore. En remettant l'arme, elle a laissé sortir un sourire faible, J'essaierai de trouver le mien. Nat a dirigé son attention vers l'homme blessé, et a commencé à faire son chemin vers lui. Elle se penchait sur son corps et était sur le point d'essayer d'aider avant de remarquer tout le sang. Pendant qu'il s'écriait, le sang de sa jambe s'est infiltré dans son costume blanc. Le costume avait aussi des éclats de sang à travers la poitrine et les bras, et Nat ne pouvait pas dire si c'était le sien. Ses yeux s'élargissaient et elle brouillait à l'envers. C'est comme ça que le virus se transmet! Elle a pensé à elle-même, rapidement de retour traquer dans ses pas. Je suis désolé, je suis désolé, je suis désolé, je suis désolé, elle a chuchoté, essayant de ne pas le regarder. Deux filles étaient passées par la marine morte, celle qui était sur la rampe avant. Ils le pillaient, prenaient son armure, son couteau, son arme... non, ils avaient laissé ça derrière. Peut-être qu'ils attendaient de le récupérer? Eh bien, ça ne pourrait pas faire mal de demander. Nataliya a fait son chemin vers eux, accroupissant et poussant à travers les débris et le peuple. Elle a maudit des excuses sous son souffle à tous les blessés qu'elle ne pouvait pas aider. Elle est arrivée aux filles à peu près en même temps que d'autres ont commencé à questionner l'homme qui avait fini le navire infecté. Je peux prendre ça? Ou comptez-vous l'utiliser? – Elle a demandé poliment, en essayant de rassembler un regard gentil sur son visage. Sa main a touché le cul de l'arme, mais elle ne l'a pas prise. "Demande lui une question de maths, l'infecté ne peut pas logiquer pour la merde." Nat ne savait pas vraiment ce qui s'était passé, mais par mémoire et par impulsion elle criait, 7 fois 7!Ses parents la forçaient à faire les multiplications encore et encore, mais elle n'en a jamais vraiment eu l'idée. Math n'était pas son truc. Mais si ça pouvait aider quelqu'un d'autre, elle appellerait.	Name: Nataliya Arnikova Gender: Female Age: 25 Nationality: Latvian/Russian Surviving Family: A brother, maybe? Former Occupation: Worked on a farm with her grandparents Appearance: Nataliya, or Nat for short, is a rather average looking girl. She stands at 5’4” and was roughly 135 lbs last time she checked. Working on the farm has given her strong arms and legs, and the muscle definition can clearly be seen. Her eyes are a light green, speckled with brown and her skin has a warm tan to it. Her hands are rough and calloused, from years of hard work. Backstory: My whole family, grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins, everyone, moved from Russia over to the small country of Latvia when I was very little. I remember very little of that time, but I do remember the long train ride from St. Petersburg all the way to Riga, Latvia. My grandparents had bought a small farm just outside of the capital and for a very long time all of us, all 15 or 16 of us, lived in that small wooden cottage. Soon, my parents bought an apartment in the city, but I chose to stay with Papa and Nana. On the farm we had two goats, a mother and her son, a cow, a flock of chickens and the various cats and dogs that would come and go as they pleased. My grandparents were old, and Papa had suffered a stroke back in Russia so his mobility was limited. But together we planted fruits and vegetables, we looked after our small patch of land and even renovated the house a bit. Because of this, I’m good at identifying plants, hunting and I can chop some wood pretty good if I do say so myself. Living in this remote area, we obviously didn’t get much TV or phone connections. I talked to my parents every few weeks but that was all. Our nearest neighbor was a 15 minute walk away, and the only grocery store in the area was a 30 minute bike ride through the country. That… that’s why we didn’t hear about the infection. My grandparents probably wouldn’t have believed the news anyways, they were old fashioned like that. One day I came home from a walk and Papa.. my grandfather was acting very strange. Nana was doting over him, saying he was sick and he must rest. She tried to feed him. In a flash he was on her and.. and. I’m sorry, I really don’t want to talk about that anymore. I ran as fast as I could, grabbed my bike and a few supplies and was gone. I didn’t know what was happening, but soon I started seeing those.. those things, just like my Grandpa, all over. They just kept multiplying. My neighbors, the store owner, nowhere was safe. I went to the only place I knew, the forest behind my house. I biked and walked through there for days.. weeks. I stayed close to the edge, where all the farms were, and occasionally went out to scavenge for food. I slept in the trees. Turns out, those things can’t climb very well. And if they can, they make enough of a racket to wake me up. I.. I don’t think my parents made it. They were never the smart ones. They probably ignored the news and kept on living their lives. My brother.. my brother is 16, and he’s always been the smartest in the family! He was a straight A student, and excelled in sports and all sorts of things.. I hope.. somehow.. I’m sorry.. can we talk about something else now?

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