[hider=The Pint-Sized Medic][center][I][h3]Fiore Alba[/h3][/I]
[img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/3b44ed26-8238-47bd-a2fe-4e8f13d5f9e1.jpg [/img]

[I]Of the Italian fiore, "flower", and alba, "dawn", meaning "flower of the dawn."[/I][/center]
[color=f00055][b]• Name:[/b][/color] Fiore Alba 

[color=f00055][b]• Age:[/b][/color] 16 years old

[color=f00055][b]• Gender:[/b][/color] Female

[color=f00055][b]• Class:[/b][/color] Linker

[color=f00055][b]• Nationality:[/b][/color] Italian-Japanese

[color=f00055][b]• Appearance:[/b][/color] First of all -- Fiore's tiny. Standing at only 4'9, with a childlike build and features, she is quite a bit frailer than some of the other recruits. Even as a child, Fiore was never strong or physically healthy, and her childhood was frequented by bouts of sickness and broken bones; it didn't help that she wanted to climb trees and run races with the other kids The skin on her arms is especially marred by bruises, cuts, and scars, as she works without armguards or protection. Her fingers are deft and slender, as most of what she does requires precision, and her nails are cut short.  

Fiore has long, straight black hair and amber eyes that shift color occasionally; her contacts are built to recognize signs of injury and she thought the sunset color scheme was pretty. She usually wears hand-me-down clothes from her former neighbors, but she's been trying to develop more a battlefield-ready wardrobe for tougher situations.

[color=f00055][b]• Bio:[/b][/color] Fiore is deceptively childish and innocent; her mind is one of both astonishing cleverness and naivete. Although her giant library and aptitude for learning have sharpened her mind in some ways, she still holds onto the optimism and wonder that may grate on the nerves of the more seasoned warriors. Having seen the horrors of the invasion up close, her greatest wish to give people peace and happiness, and dislikes the very notion of war. However, as the situation doesn't seem likely to change, Fiore accepts the role this world has given her and hopes to aid in any way she can.

Fiore has spent all of her life studying and playing and growing up in a perhaps unorthodox community of scientists and runaways hidden away in the forests near the now-destroyed Tokyo City, a congregation of top scientists that now work towards the development of new tech and better understanding of psychic abilities. Her father, an Italian civilian living in Japan, had taken up house in the colony after attacks forced many to evacuate. Fiore's mother died when she was very young, from injuries sustained from the long trek, and Fiore remembers her very little. Her father is a hardworking man, though perpetually worried about Fiore's weakness--she is all he has left, and while Fiore returns the sentiment, she always reminds him he has many friends here.

[color=f00055][b]• Armament:[/b][/color] As a Linker, and more importantly, a Medic, Fiore specializes in treating injuries both physical or mental. Her contacts allow her to see a larger range of vital signs and help her immensely when her brain fails her.   

[i]Medical Proficiency[/i] -- Fiore has studied extensively in the medical field, reading entire bookshelves as a way of keeping herself busy while bedridden with sickness. Even as a young child, she was capable of treating cuts, broken bones, and even self-administered stiches on at least one occasion. Her natural skills are supplemented by her hardworking nature and hatred of suffering. By taking to the battlefield, she hopes to reach more people in need of treatment.

[i]All-Seeing Eye[/i] -- Although Fiore is not the best with technology, her years of hard work paid off. Her enhanced contacts give her a larger field of vision, as well as recognize injuries and help with medical procedures. 

[i]And How Does That Make You Feel?[/i] -- Mental health is also a big worry of Fiore's, especially with the kind of war the students are expected to wage. Her open mind and calming voice can make for an impromptu psychiatrist session if need be, and she hopes to try and lessen the effects of PTSD and other mental diseases with new treatments. Her career of a psychologist is just beginning, though, and she still has much to learn. 

[I]Drones, Drones[/I] -- As expected by the Academy, Fiore has borrowed a second-rate drone from the labs to aid her in combat. Despite her generally being not great with technology, she's confident she has what it takes to control and utilize drone effectively. It's constructed a bit shoddily, but it has cameras and holograph technology, and Fiore can use it to transmit her "mini-map" to her teammates. 

[color=f00055][b]• Psychic Drive:[/b][/color] [I]Probe[/I] -- Preferring to stay entirely out of combat, Fiore uses her psychic abilities to supplement her already heightened sight by sensing and returning information that would otherwise not be visible. This gives her an extensive "map" of the area, something Fiore finds useful when strategizing and coordinating attacks. 

[color=f00055][b]• Extra:[/b][/color] Half of her wardrobe consists of children's clothes. The other half is clothes that belonged to her mother. Has a large scar on her left foot, stretching from her big toe all the way to her pinky. Fond of fairy tales due to the "happily ever after" endings.  

[color=f00055][b]• Sample Post:[/b][/color] 
[hider=Saying Goodbye]
It has been, on the whole, quite possibly the strangest day Fiore has ever had. Not that that says much--at sixteen, Fiore hasn't seen much. And it's only the morning. 

Life in the village is--was, she reminds herself, for today she'll be saying goodbye to her home of 15 years--a quiet affair. Yes, it is filled to the brim with scientists and researchers, but for the most part, they laid low. They had to, after what happened when the aliens struck and the world caught on flames. Now, their labs are nothing but a cluster of tents surrounding the large box of a building that the more sensitive tech resides in. Fiore would know; she's visited them every day for the past 15 years, ever since her father stumbled upon the compound and she was practically raised by scientists, in lieu of a mother. 

Fiore pauses, her hands passing over the contents of her clothing drawer. She's sorting her belongings into piles now, one for taking and one for leaving behind. In case she comes back--in case somebody wants them. 

The shirt is red and black, well-worn and with many loose threads. It's one of her favorites. It belonged to mother, once upon a time, and it remains perpetually oversized, but Fiore loves it just the same. The scent of her mother has long since left, replaced with the hospital smell of sterilizers, but Fiore likes to imagine her mother's smell is tucked away somewhere. Like if she tried hard enough, she could pretend mother was standing over her like she would've done. At least Fiore thinks she would. 

But now is not the time to daydream. Now is the time to prepare herself. Fiore is determined to stand on her own two feet, to not worry father, to prove to the world she's not a child. Even if she may be as short as one. 

The standard-size military suitcase is almost full by now. Fiore casts one last look around her small room, taking in her bed, the patterned curtains, the bedside lamp. That's right--she should pack an alarm clock. The trinkets on the top of her dresser are useless, expect for the special contacts case--but Fiore's already packed that, in a separate box, with utmost care. The rest of this is just junk, like shiny rocks or friendship bracelets made of colorful wire and screws. Should she take one, for old times sake...?

No. Those are things of the past, things of before the war. Fiore shivers. That word will never end to unnerve her. She hasn't seen such bloodshed on her own lifetime, but she has seen the pictures, and they are terrifying. Is it only because her work relies on knowing the specifics of an injury does she continue to study such gory pictures. The nightmares have not yet ended, but Fiore can easily sacrifice an hour or two of sleep for information that could potentially save lives, and that is what matters. She has embraced her talents, and she will use them for good. That is the right thing to do. 

Breakfast is on the table, abandoned and forgotten. Fiore was too nervous to eat. Even when living in a world torn apart by invaders, she has never been this scared. She has absolutely no idea what lies ahead. 

Father strides up to her, a worried expression on his face. The gauntness of his cheekbones, the hollowness of his eyes--everything about him makes Fiore ache. She wants to stay. She wants to try and fix him, to find a cure for grief, but this new academy is more important. But what could be more important than one's flesh and blood? This world is confusing and frightening, and Fiore is made of glass, of fragile bones and a heavy heart.

But, as long as the world continues to turn, the sun continue to rise and set, and the battle continues to rage, Fiore has her dream. And she [i]will[/i] fulfill it. 
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