[h1][color=0076a3]Odell Fuchs[/color][/h1]

For a rich girl, she sure didn't give off the vibe of one. There was some arrogance, but little compared to what he expected. The Swan Faunus offered her hand and stared into his eyes, seemingly burning a hole in his soul with flaming, crimson eyes.

[s]If this was a romance flick, this was probably where he'd fall in love at first sight. [/s]

[color=0076a3]"Odell."[/color] He gripped Mikoto's hand tightly before breaking off the handshake. [color=0076a3]"I've met a few. Atlas has a lot of em."[/color] Odell shrugged as he continued. [color=0076a3]"Usually rich types want to play armchair general. They don't want to get their hands dirty actually fighting, let alone be alongside the lower class, as they call it. That's what I find strange. Maybe they're different elsewhere."[/color] To be honest, Mikoto was probably more humble than any rich person he'd met. [color=0076a3]"I hope that training serves you well. You do have a naive mindset, but commendable to say the least."[/color] Odell glanced around the room, looking at his ragtag team. [color=0076a3]"Yes, a very tedious job, being a leader. Only time will tell if we'll be able to work as a unit. If not... well, I suppose we'll all be dead. I'll keep your offer in mind."[/color] 

Before Odell could continue the conversation any further, a man came up to him with papers. Hmm. Must be that mercenary command hired at the last second. Odell grabbed the papers, glancing at them for a few seconds before handing them back.[color=0076a3] "Ah. Yes. The mute one. Keep your papers. I have no need for them." [/color] It would be a little unsettling having a guy that didn't talk, but Odell supposed any extra manpower was good.

[color=0076a3]"Ah. I may as well come with you. I have to talk to them anyway."[/color] Odell decided to address the rest of the group, as he figured they might wander off if not given instruction. [color=0076a3]"Mikoto and I will be headed off to the staging area. Just follow the signs to the hangars when you're all ready. We leave in 20."[/color] Odell then walked out of the room and towards the 442nd Armored Division's camp.

It was extremely crowded, with mechanics making last minute adjustments on the various Paladin 290s the 442nd fielded. Some adjustments were practical, such as extra armor plating. Others... not so much. One could see pilots spray painting custom emblems on their mechs. Odell supposed it was for the "cool" factor. 

Would it be enough?... Odell curled his lip as he thought about the mission ahead. It had to be. This was their only chance at winning.