[center][h2][color=FF9912]Hawthorne Balthazar - Outcast Base[/color][/h2][/center]
This. Was. Fan. Fucking. Tastic. Hawthorne Balthazar, [i]the[/i] Hawthorn Balthazar, was being asked to lead a squad of mech pilots, one of whom was technically his superior. Oh boy, he could only imagine how Fluffykins would react to [i]that[/i]. Hawthorne wondered what Olympia would think of all of this too. Would she be impressed? Probably just indifferent, but it didn’t really matter either way. He had no clue what the other two would say. Cassius was probably just happy to stay out of the spotlight. Trench coat guy? No idea.


What did Jackal-boy and Alexi think about all of this though? Hawthorne found it hard to picture the latter commanding anyone, but maybe she’d take to it well. Who knew. Nathaniel, on the other hand, Hawthorne could easily see commanding others. Hawthorne wasn’t too shabby in a leadership role himself, now that he thought of it. If the three of them could figure out some sort of dynamic, particularly one that benefited himself, then the whole operation might turn out to be an effective and entertaining source of income. God damn this was getting his blood flowing! A potential threat almost always wound up in a fight. Hawthorne was yearning to shoot up something strong into his veins and tear apart the metallic shells of his opponents to grind the flesh inside to a pulp. 


Hawthorne let out a short, predatory chuckle more akin to a bark than a laugh, his grin a sickening slash of wolven hunger, which he gradually coaxed back into a more relaxed mien. He took a few steps towards the Sheriff. [color=36648B]“Well why the fuck not? Sounds like a good bit of fun, eh?”[/color] He whirled around to face his associates, arms spread out at either side of him. Oh, how Hawthorne loved the dramatics. [color=36648B]“Whadda you say? Alexi? Jackal-boy? Think the three of us can lead this ragtag band of veterans and criminals into glorious combat against our woefully outclassed opponents?”[/color]